“Done,” Helen said.
She gave Evie a last squeeze on the arm before heading back to the other house. Evie studied the earrings, then carefully slipped the lid back on the box. It was hard to look at Tanner when she was feeling so emotional, but she made herself do it.
“Well. I guess that’s pretty much it.”
He looked back at her, his gray eyes dark with emotion. A muscle worked in his jaw, and he reached out to cup her face in his big hand. His thumb swept across her cheek.
“I’ll miss you. Make sure you kick ass on that final year of yours, okay? So you can get out there and save some more foals.”
She nodded, her throat so tight with emotion she couldn’t speak.
By mutual unspoken accord, they drew apart. Evie crossed her arms over her chest, then sucked in a deep breath.
“Guess I’ll go brush my teeth, then.”
Tanner didn’t follow her inside, and she walked slowly to the bathroom and squeezed paste onto her brush. She stared at her own reflection as she cleaned her teeth, hating herself for being such a coward.
Tell him you love him. Tell him you want to stay, or at least work something out so this doesn’t have to be a permanent goodbye.
She leaned forward and spat, then rinsed her mouth out.
If Tanner wanted her to stay, he’d had his opportunity on the front porch. She’d given him plenty of openings, but he hadn’t said a word. She’d forced herself into his life by insisting on driving him home, and she’d climbed into his bed and insisted on staying there until the end of her visit. She didn’t have it in her to ask for more, not when it felt as though she’d done all the running so far.
If he wanted her to stay, he needed to tell her. But he hadn’t.
There wasn’t much more to it than that, really. It was over.
Drying her toothbrush, she packed it with the rest of her toiletries and slipped it into the outside pocket on her case. Then she extended the handle and wheeled it out into the living room. Tanner was standing at the sink, hands braced on the edge of the counter, his head lowered. He looked up when she came in, and she forced a smile.
“All ready.” She took a deep breath. “I was thinking, since Johnny’s driving me to the airport anyway, it might be easier to say our goodbyes here. That way I won’t have to blubber in public.”
Tanner stilled, and something flickered behind his eyes. After a beat he nodded.
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” she said.
It wasn’t, but it would make it easier. Maybe.
The sound of the truck pulling up out front sent a rush of adrenalin through her. Tanner rounded the kitchen bench and she stepped in to his arms and kissed him one last time.
“Gonna miss you and your stubbornness,” she said. “I left my email on your desk—let me know how your eyesight tests go, okay?”
“I will,” he said.
She stared up into his face. His bad eye was almost completely clear now, and he’d been able to keep it fully open for two days. The bruising was a pastel halo around his eye, soon to be gone altogether.
In a couple more weeks, his accident would be but a bad memory, and he’d be moving on with his life.
“Look after yourself, Tanner Harding.”
“You too, Evie Forrester.”
She turned away from him, grabbing the handle on her suitcase.
“You never did learn that one, did you?” Tanner said, tugging it from her grasp easily.
“Right. I’d forgot your obsession with throwing my luggage around.”
She followed him out the door and watched as he slid her case into the back of Johnny’s truck. He had a quick word with Johnny, who shot a glance her way before nodding. Then Tanner walked around and opened the passenger door for her.
Evie took a deep breath, pasted on a smile, and stepped up into the cabin of the truck. Johnny slid into the driver’s seat, and she hoped he couldn’t tell her chin was wobbling. Tanner shut the door behind her and stepped back. She looked out at him, standing there in his faded jeans, a plain black T-shirt the perfect foil for his lean, powerful physique.
For two weeks, he’d been hers, and it had been amazing. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that every man she ever met would be held to his standard and found wanting for the rest of her life.
There was only one Tanner, and he was going to be the keeper of her heart for a long time.
“All set?” Johnny said.
“Yep. Let’s get this show on the road.” She dragged her gaze from Tanner’s and concentrated on putting her seat belt on. When she looked up again, she mustered one last smile and lifted her hand in farewell. Then Johnny started the truck and pulled away from the house.
Panic clutched her chest as he turned into the drive.
Surely this can’t be it. Surely.
She took a breath, ready to tell him to stop. Then she caught sight of Tanner in the side-view mirror, standing in front of his house, still as a statue. Not raising a hand or calling her name. Not urging her to come back and stay.
She sank back against the seat. Her first instinct was right.
It was over.
*
Tanner waited until the dust from the truck had dissipated before turning away. He went back into the house, but the moment he walked in he could smell Evie’s perfume.
“Jesus.”
He lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck, struggling to get a grip on his emotions.
Evie’s face came to mind, the way she’d searched his gaze when they’d said their goodbyes. Had she been waiting for him to say something?
He’d never know. She hadn’t said anything, either, he reminded himself as he exited the house and headed for the barn. Clementine’s colt, Banjo, had had his first run in the paddock yesterday, but today he was back in the stall with his mother, greedily drinking his fill.
They’d all agreed Evie should have the honor of naming him, and she’d chosen the name of a famous Australian poet. When he’d admitted he’d never heard of Banjo Patterson, she’d found a poem called ‘The Man From Snowy River’ on the internet and read it to him.
His throat was thick with unshed tears and he rubbed the back of his neck again. He wasn’t going to stand here and indulge in waterworks. She’d gone, and he’d let her go because it was the right thing for her.
And because he’d been too damned uncertain about what she’d say if he asked her to stay, to lay his heart on the line.
He swore, spinning on his heel and leaving the barn, but he couldn’t leave his own thoughts behind.
Had he really let her go out of cowardice? Because he’d been too scared she’d say she didn’t feel the same? Had he really chosen to say nothing rather than gamble everything for the biggest prize of all—Evie?
He stopped in the middle of the yard, very much afraid the answer was yes. It was a lowering, unmanning realization. For nine years he’d considered himself tougher than most men. He’d prided himself on the life he led, the risks he took. He could handle pain, ride through injuries, stick it when a lot of other riders couldn’t.
And he’d just let the best thing that had ever happened to him walk out of his life.
“Tanner Harding, what is wrong with you?”
He looked up to find Helen powering toward him, her color high.
“I wasn’t going to say anything, because we don’t interfere in each other’s lives like that, but what you did today… Are you an idiot, letting that woman go? Are you insane?”
She stopped in front of him, hands on her hips.
“That woman is perfect for you, and don’t pretend that you are not head over heels in love with her, because you are. Why on earth did you let her go? Why would you do that? You’re not a stupid man. So why would you let a woman like Evie slip through your fingers?”
“I fucked up,” he said simply. “I got scared. I wasn’t sure she’d want me. Wasn’t sure if all the problems we’d have to solve
would be worth it just to be with me.”
The belligerent look faded from Helen’s face. “She loves you, Tanner. Of course she thinks it’s worth it.”
He glanced toward the driveway. Evie and Johnny had been gone nearly forty minutes.
“Her flight is at midday.” He held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
Helen pulled her ever-present phone from her pocket and he called Johnny.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Calling Johnny and telling him to pull over. We’ll jump in your truck and catch them.”
To his frustration, the phone rang and rang before finally cutting to voice mail.
“Give me a second to check something,” Helen said.
She ran-jogged back to her house, disappearing inside. Tanner paced, an increasing sense of urgency biting at him. He had to talk to Evie before she left. He had to at least give them a chance.
Helen emerged from her house, slamming the door behind her, something small and black held high in her hand.
“He left it behind, the donkey,” she called.
Tanner twisted on his heel and bolted up the stairs to the porch. The front door hit the wall as he flung it open and scanned for his own phone. Not in the kitchen, not on the coffee table. He spun and headed up the hallway. Two minutes later he found it on his desk. It took him two swipes to get the screen to unlock, and he fumbled through the menu trying to find Evie’s contact listing. Finally he found it and called her.
Helen hovered in the office doorway, one hand on her chest as he listened to Evie’s phone ring. Almost immediately a recording told him her phone was not switched on.
“Shit,” he said.
For a moment his mind was a blank, filled with nothing but panic. Then he started for the door, grabbing Helen’s shoulders and urging her ahead of him.
“If we floor it, we might be able to make the airport by midday,” he said.
He matched his stride to Helen’s as they ran to the barn where his truck was stored. Helen started the big motor with a powerful rev, sticking it straight into gear and flooring it. The tires spat gravel as they shot past the house and down the driveway.
“Keep trying her phone, just in case,” Helen said, her attention fixed on the road.
Tanner grabbed for the Jesus strap as Helen squealed out of the driveway, leaving rubber on the road. She gave him an apologetic look.
“Sorry, your truck’s got more power than ours,” she said.
“Don’t apologize, you’re doing great,” he said, gesturing for her to floor it again. If he’d been driving, they would have taken the corner on two wheels.
He checked the time on his phone. They had fifty minutes until Evie’s plane departed. It was doable. If they were lucky.
He tried Evie’s phone again, only to get the same message.
“We’ll get there,” Helen said.
Tanner nodded, hoping she was right.
The next forty minutes were the most tense and frustrating of his life. Helen drove like a stuntman, overtaking slow drivers, sitting on the speed limit, doing everything she could to get ahead. He tried Evie multiple times, only to get the same message. They hit the outskirts of Pueblo with ten minutes to spare and the knot in his gut started to untangle. They were going to make it. He was going to get his chance to lay it on the line with Evie.
Then Helen turned into the main road to the airport and hit roadworks. Traffic slowed to a crawl as they inched forward. Tanner’s blood pressure rose and he fisted his hands in his lap, restraining the impulse to leap from the car and run. They were too far from the airport to make any difference, and he was in no condition to do a hundred-yard sprint.
After five minutes they passed the choke point and Helen took the truck back up to the speed limit.
“I feel like I’m in a movie,” she said as she wove through traffic.
“I don’t.”
He was in a nightmare. Evie was going to fly away, and he was going to have to wait twenty-four hours before he could speak to her.
He wanted to bang his head against the dash. Why hadn’t he laid it on the line when he had the chance? Why hadn’t he cowboyed up?
Helen shot him a hopeful smile as she turned into the gates of the airport.
“Made it,” she said with satisfaction.
His gaze was fixed on the twin-engine plane taxiing down the runway. Pueblo was not a busy commuter hub. It had to be Evie’s plane.
“No,” Helen said, her face sagging with disappointment when she followed his gaze.
“We missed her,” he said, his tone flat.
“It might not be her flight,” Helen said, ever the optimist. “Run in to the terminal and check.”
Tanner didn’t bother responding. Helen pulled up outside the terminal and he got out.
“I’ll park and come in,” she said.
“Don’t bother. This isn’t going to take long.”
He walked into the terminal, heading straight for the information desk.
“Excuse me. Could you tell me if the midday flight to Santa Fe has left?” he asked the middle-aged woman behind the counter.
She gave him a perfunctory smile before checking her screen.
“Just took off. If you need to rebook, ticket desk is at the far end of the terminal,” she said, pointing the way with a brightly lacquered nail. “Hope your ticket is refundable.”
He mustered up a smile and a thanks and turned toward the exit. He could see Helen outside, rushing toward the automatic doors, and he lifted a hand to let her know there was no rush.
Then some instinct made him turn his head and he stopped in his tracks.
Seated thirty feet away at a table at the concourse café was a blonde woman. She had her back to him, so he couldn’t see her face.
But he knew.
Evie.
He broke into a run.
*
She had to stop crying. She’d been sitting here, sobbing quietly, for so long the women behind the counter were starting to give her strange looks. Any second now they were going to call security and have her taken away.
Evie blew her nose into a serviette, then took a deep breath and tried to get a grip. She needed to work out what to do, if she was going to woman up and call Tanner to tell him she couldn’t get on a plane and leave him, or if she was going to rebook her flight to Santa Fe and fly home as planned.
She started to pull her phone from her jacket pocket, but some sixth sense—a tickle on the back of her neck—made her look over her shoulder.
And there he, running toward her, his gray eyes blazing.
Tanner.
Her brain went blank, but her body knew what to do. Suddenly she was on her feet, turning toward him—and then she was in his arms, his embrace so strong and fierce it took her breath away.
“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I love you, Evie. I should never have let you go. Forgive me,” he said, his cheek pressed against hers.
They were the words she’d been wanting—needing—to hear, and relief sent a fresh wave of tears to her eyes.
“I tried to leave, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t make myself leave you,” she said.
He pulled back so he could see her face, his face twisting with concern when he saw her tears.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” He cupped her face, and she realized his hands were shaking as he swept her tears away with his thumbs.
“I was hoping so much you’d come for me,” she confessed.
“I should never have let you go in the first place.”
He kissed her, and she could taste his desperation and fear and relief. She opened to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, practically climbing his body to get closer.
“Ahem.”
Tanner stilled and lifted his head. Evie looked over his shoulder to see Helen standing there, a big smirk on her face.
“I don’t want to be a wet blanket, but thought it might be worth reminding you you’re in a p
ublic place,” she said, her gaze aimed pointedly over Evie’s other shoulder.
Evie glanced across and saw the two women behind the café counter were staring at them, clearly highly titillated.
“They can put it on YouTube for all I care,” Tanner said, and then he was kissing her again, chasing the last doubts from her mind with his passion and intensity.
He loved her.
He loved her.
There were things they needed to work out. Her study, his ranch. His recovery, her career. But the important part was sorted. He was hers, and she was his. The rest of it was just logistics and stuff.
Stuff they could work out. Stuff was easy.
Love was the challenge. Love was the beginning, the middle and the end.
Tanner lifted his head. She looked into his eyes, and saw it all—his love, his devotion, his hopes, his fears, his dreams.
She smiled.
“Yes,” she said. “To all of it. Yes, please.”
Epilogue
Eight months later
“Are you sure Johnny will have enough room in the truck for us and all the luggage?” Evie asked as the tiny twin-engine plane approached the runway.
“It’s a truck, Evie. It’s got plenty of room.”
Evie chewed her lip, thinking about all the suitcases that were waiting for them at Pueblo airport. Two weeks ago, she’d packed up her life in Australia and sent three huge cases off ahead of her via an excess baggage company. According to the company’s website, they’d been sitting here in Pueblo for three days now, waiting for her and Tanner to catch up with them.
She glanced across at him, smiling faintly as she studied his sun-bronzed profile.
For the last three weeks, ever since her final exam, they’d been living at Forrester’s Landing, spending time with her family before she moved to Colorado permanently. Tanner had installed some new fencing with her father, rounded up cattle with her brother, and generally further cemented himself in their good graces. The general consensus, as her mother kept telling her, was that Tanner was a keeper.
As if Evie didn’t know that already.
All those hours beneath the harsh Australian sun had given him a deep tan. The contrast made his gray eyes even more vibrant and arresting, scoring Tanner plenty of head turns from the female half of the population as they traveled home. It probably had something to do with the cocky confidence in his walk and the way he wore his black Stetson, too, as well as his big, hard body encased in worn denim and a simple black, Western-style shirt.
Tanner (American Extreme Bull Riders Tour Book 1) Page 21