“What did she say?” Blythe whispered.
“She cursed me. Screamed that I would never know love, because I didn’t deserve it. She told me that even Rosa didn’t love me, but she’d been too afraid to tell me. I didn’t understand. Rosa never acted as though she was afraid of me. I was confused and heartbroken.
“Her mother told me Rosa had wanted to get away from me for months, but she was afraid of what I’d do when I found out she was in love with someone else. And then she told me Rosa loved someone close to me and knew, if she told me, I’d kill him.”
There were tears on Tucker’s cheeks, and the final words he said came out as a sob. “I guess she was right, because when I saw her with another man, I did want to kill him. I honestly did. And that’s why I wanted to leave, because I was afraid of that kind of rage. I wouldn’t have hurt her, but I might have hurt him, whoever he was.”
Blythe reached out her hand to him. He wanted to take it, he wanted to let her hold him, but he needed to finish.
“When I got out of the hospital, I lashed out at all of my friends. I knew it had to be one of them. I accused them all and swore them off. I never wanted to talk to any of them again. The only one I didn’t was Chris, who you met at the restaurant. He and his wife, Kate, have been together since high school. Kate told me that Chris had been with her that night, and I knew she wouldn’t lie about it. If she thought Chris had been unfaithful to her, she would’ve been in as much of a rage as I was.”
“That’s why you’re such close friends.”
“He was the only one I trusted. And Jace. They became the only people I’d talk to, other than my parents. Every man I saw, I wondered if he was with her that night. If he was the man she fell in love with.”
After graduation, which he didn’t attend, he left for Europe. He went to art school in Spain and decided to make his home there. He came back to the States for holidays but was always anxious to leave again. When he was in Aspen, he only saw his family, and occasionally Chris and Kate. Then he’d return to Europe.
It wasn’t long before his work became known and US galleries were clamoring to represent him. In the last couple of years, he’d been coming back more often, but he still had no desire to live here again.
“Jace and I have a condo in Aspen, but I’m never there. It has my art in it, the pieces I’ve given to Jace, or the ones I haven’t wanted to sell. In the last three years, I don’t think I’ve slept there more than a dozen times.”
“Spain is your escape.”
“It has been.”
“Is that where you were?”
“No, it isn’t. I would’ve been too easy to find. I went to Mexico.”
Blythe was taking it all in. He could see her processing the story he was telling her.
“When I came back before Thanksgiving, I had been feeling as though my life was meaningless. I wanted love, the kind of love my parents have—the kind that, since Rosa died, I never believed I could have—but I knew it was too much to hope for.
“And then there you were, with your violet eyes and obstinate attitude. The minute I saw you, I wanted you, and somehow I knew it wouldn’t be meaningless between us. I could feel you. Our connection was immediate, and I know you felt it, too.”
Tucker moved his chair closer to the bed. He wanted to hold her, but he wasn’t finished.
“I didn’t plan to leave on Thanksgiving. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to get away, push Rosa out of my head, and come back to you. Once I started driving, I kept going. Leaving is what I knew, what I know. Up until this last time, I always ran to Spain.”
He told her he’d painted her every day when he was in Spain. He’d been with her less than twenty-four hours, but he could still remember everything about her. He told her he painted her hands, the curve of her spine, her smile.
“They’re all in my house in San Sebastian. It’s a seaside village on the Bay of Biscay, in Northern Spain, very close to the border of France.”
He inched closer still, taking both her hands in his. “When Jace told me he planned to see you in January, I knew I had to come back. You are the first woman I’ve felt anything for since Rosa. For a while, I didn’t think I would ever feel anything again, especially love. I didn’t think it was possible.”
He stood and she moved over so there was room for him. He gently climbed in and put his arm around her, bringing her closer to him.
“When Bree’s husband died, I saw how you took on all her pain. You swallowed it and carried it for her. Whatever Bree was going through, you felt. I worried that if I told you my story, you would do the same with me. I wanted to tell you, but it was too soon. The funeral was that same day. It would have been selfish for me to burden you with my pain—my damage, as Jace calls it. But I knew, if there was going to be anything more between us, I needed to tell you.”
He was torn, he told her, which was why he’d acted the way he did. He’d wanted to go to Aspen, to think, but he was afraid that if he did, he’d head right back to Spain. Then, the worst thing he could ever imagine happened.
“The accident,” she whispered.
“I woke up. I saw you. Your back was to me, and I couldn’t tell if you were breathing or not. The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed. Again.
“Rosa’s mother’s words came screaming back at me. She told me I’d never know love because I didn’t deserve it. You know, I’ve never told anyone else what she said to me that night. I never told my parents or Jace that Rosa’s parents came to see me in the hospital.”
That was why Jace didn’t understand, why no one understood. They thought he couldn’t let go of Rosa, but that wasn’t it. It wasn’t about letting go, it was about believing in the future. That was the part he couldn’t let himself do.
“You have no idea how hard it is for me to believe it now. Every part of me is terrified that if I’m in your life, something will happen to you or the baby.
“That’s why I left. I believed you were better off without me. A couple of nights ago, when they brought you here, I knew something was terribly wrong. I couldn’t stop myself from calling Jace. I had to know what had happened. The only other two times in my life I felt that way were when Rosa looked at me, right before the accident, and again, when you did.”
Blythe shifted so she could get her arm further around him, hold him tighter.
“All Jace said was that I needed to get here, as fast as I could, because I was about to lose my baby. What that did to me, Blythe…I can’t even describe how I felt. Hope mixed with the worst kind of fear I could imagine. If something happened to our baby because of me, I don’t think I would’ve been able to go on. I still feel that way.”
Blythe looked up at him.
“What is it? Ask me, tell me. Whatever it is, I can take it. Even if you say you don’t want me here. I can take it, Blythe.”
“You have to trust me, Tucker.”
He wanted to believe it was that simple. He wanted to let himself love her—but the risk. That was what he struggled with. If he left now, and stayed out of their lives, she’d be okay. She’d raise the baby, find love, and live a full and wonderful life. If he stayed, he didn’t know what might happen.
“I don’t see it that way,” she said. “I see a man who loved someone very much, who was hurt to his core, and then there was a terrible accident. That’s what it was, Tucker. An accident.”
He shook his head, but Blythe put her fingers to his mouth to quiet him.
“What about Rosa? She was with another man. She loved another man. How was that your doing? Whatever she believed, or told her parents she believed, was born of her own guilt, not of who you are. You’re not a violent man. You are deep, and complex, and mysterious—but you’re not violent.
“You’re right; I felt you immediately, Tucker. If you’d told me this story that first night, when we had dinner, I would’ve said the same thing. I would’ve told you then that I didn’t believe you had that kind of anger inside you.”
<
br /> “I don’t know—”
“I do.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Blythe reached for his hand. “Feel him,” she said, bringing his hand to where hers rested on their baby. “You made him, and he’s perfect. He’s everything that’s good in this world.”
“Him?”
She kissed the tears rolling down his cheeks. “He’s here to prove that you’re wrong about yourself.”
“What if I’m not wrong? What if—”
“No, Tucker, there are no ‘what ifs.’ You have to trust us.”
“What if I can’t take care of you? What if something happens to you because of me?”
“Tucker, listen to me. You have to believe in us. It isn’t all up to you. We’ll take care of each other.”
Jace felt it. He knew Tucker told Blythe about Rosa. He was driving back from Crested Butte when it hit him. Now it was his turn. He had his own story to tell, and it would likely rip their lives to shreds.
18
Jace pulled in the driveway and saw Bree sitting on the front porch, reading a book. He didn’t know why he came here, and he didn’t know who he expected to find when he did. Was he looking for Lyric? Or Bree?
There was something that told him Lyric would go easy on him. If he told her the story, she wouldn’t judge him. Maybe he was a fool for thinking so.
“Hey, there,” he said as he got out of his truck. “Gettin’ a little cold for you to be sittin’ out here, isn’t it?”
“I got caught up in my book, I guess. I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”
He walked up to where she was on the porch, and she stood. “Where’s Lyric?”
“She had some family stuff to take care of but asked me to let her know if she was needed here, and she’d come back.”
“Goin’ inside now?”
“Yeah, I think I will.”
He walked her to the front door and held it open.
“Uh, do you want to come in?”
“I would.”
Bree dropped her book on the island in the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. “We don’t have much to eat. I could make you a sandwich.”
“Nah, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
“Somethin’ to drink?”
“A beer would be nice if you’ve got one.”
She pulled one out and handed it to him. She poured herself a glass of wine and followed him into the living room. She started to sit in one of the chairs, when Jace motioned her over and patted the seat on the couch, next to him.
“Come over here and sit next to me.”
“Jace—”
“Bree, come and sit down.”
When Jace woke up later, he had no idea what time it was. Bree was out cold on the couch, next to him. He eased himself out from under her, reached down, and picked her up. She felt as though she didn’t weigh a thing as he carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the unmade bed. When he pulled the covers over her, she stirred.
“Don’t go,” she murmured. He wondered if she knew she said it, or if she was dreaming. He stood to leave, and she touched his hand. “Jace, please, don’t go.”
He toed off his boots and stretched out next to her. She moved closer and rested her head in the crook of his arm. He held her close, and they both fell back to sleep.
Jace opened his eyes and looked at the clock. It was a little after five in the morning. His arm was asleep, where Bree’s head rested on it. They’d fallen asleep that way, and neither had moved.
Bree felt so warm against him, in contrast to the coldness he felt building in his chest. Something was wrong, and as much as he wanted to stay huddled in her warmth and ignore it, he knew he couldn’t.
He eased his arm out from under her and rolled off of the bed. He hated to leave her, but the feeling of dread was not going away. If something had happened to Blythe or the baby, he needed to know. He prayed that wasn’t it.
Jace took the back way from Palmer Lake to Mount Herman Road. He didn’t know where he was going. He just kept driving southwest, toward the mountain.
It wasn’t long after the road turned to gravel that he saw another truck. He pulled up behind it and parked. This was the site of Tucker and Blythe’s accident. He could still see the scars it had left on the hillside.
As he climbed out, he saw Tucker farther up the hill. Jace made his way up the rocky terrain to where his brother sat on a big rock, his head in his hands.
“Tucker,” he said. “I’m here.”
Tucker looked up but didn’t speak. He didn’t need to; Jace could feel his anguish. He sat down next to him and waited.
It wasn’t long before Tucker spoke. “She asked me to trust her,” he said. “I want to, but I don’t know how to let myself.”
“Let go, Tuck. Quit holding on so tight to something that isn’t there anymore.”
“I don’t know if I ever loved Rosa, or if it’s turned into something so much bigger than it really was.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t remember?”
“I remember.”
“Then how can you say you don’t know?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t sure if it was your feelings or my own.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Tucker—”
“Fuck.”
After all these years, the truth about that night was finally working its way to the surface.
Tucker walked toward his truck. He wasn’t sure he could drive, but he knew he couldn’t stay here with Jace. The pieces were falling into place, and when they finished landing, he didn’t want Jace anywhere near him.
“Tucker, wait.”
He couldn’t wait.
“Don’t leave. Let’s talk about this.”
Talk about it? Was he kidding? Talk about it now? Seven years. That’s how long it had been, and Jace wanted to talk about it now? No, they wouldn’t be talking about it.
Tucker had the truck turned around and was about to head back down the mountain when Jace stepped in front of it.
He stopped, opened the driver’s door, walked to where his brother stood, and swung with everything he had in him. When his fist connected with Jace’s jaw, his brother fell backward. Tucker grabbed his shirt, steadied him, drew back, and hit him again. This time he was sure he’d broken Jace’s nose.
He went to grab him again but made the mistake of looking in his brother’s eyes. He couldn’t stand what he saw in them.
“Get the fuck out of my way, Jace, or I’ll run you over.”
He walked back to the truck, put it in gear, and pulled forward. Jace was standing near his own truck, trying to stop the blood flowing out of his nose. Tucker kept driving.
Blythe gasped when he walked into the room. “Tucker…is everything okay?”
“No. It isn’t.”
He ran his hand through his hair and streaked blood through it when he did.
“Your hand is bleeding.”
He looked at his knuckles. “It’s nothing. It’s fine.”
When Blythe reached her hand out to him, he walked over to her.
“How can you keep doing this?”
“What?” she asked.
“Reaching your hand out to me.”
“I’ll never stop.”
“Why not?”
“Tucker, how can you not know?”
He knew, but he needed to hear her say the words. “Tell me,” he said.
She pulled him closer. “Tucker, the reason I won’t ever stop is because I love you. When you love someone, you never stop reaching out to them.”
Jace never felt so lost. All these years, he’d hoped Tucker would move on from that night, find a way to get over it. He should have known he wouldn’t. At first, Jace had waited to tell him until he was out of the hospital. He told himself it would be easier after some time passed.
Each time he decided to tell him the trut
h, he found another excuse to put it off. He put it off so many times that it got to the point where he couldn’t explain to Tucker why.
He should have a doctor check out his broken nose, but he didn’t know where to go. There was only one person he could think of to call who he figured wouldn’t make him answer any questions. He’d seen her car in the driveway when he left the house in the glen an hour ago.
“Hey, it’s Jace,” he said when Lyric answered. “Sorry to call so early.”
“It’s okay, I’m up. You don’t sound too good.”
“That’s why I’m calling. I think my nose is broken.”
“Oh my ’lanta! What happened? You practicin’ at six in the morning or somethin’?”
“Nah. This had nothin’ to do with a horse.”
“That doesn’t sound good either. Where you at?”
“It might be better if I came to you. Are you still at the house?”
“Yep, but how did you know that?”
“I saw your car when I left.”
“When you left where? Here? I gotta hear this story. You and Bree? I coulda predicted that one. Damn, did I ever hook up with the right folks. Followin’ along with all your drama makes my life look like a walk in the park.”
“Lyric?”
“Yeah?
“My nose…”
“Right, right. Sorry. Meet me at the Speed Zone. You know where that is?”
He did. It was a coffee place only a couple of doors down from O’Malley’s, right on the main drag.
“I’ll be waiting out front,” Lyric said before she disconnected the call.
“Holy smokes!” Lyric said when she saw Jace. “You aren’t kidding; your nose is broken. Jeez! What’s the other guy look like?”
“Not a scratch on him, except maybe where his hand connected with my face.”
Kiss Me Cowboy (Cowboys of Crested Butte Book 3) Page 18