by Jeannie Watt
“Could it? Go too far?”
His expression blanked out in a way she hadn’t seen before. She wasn’t the only one with a protective barrier.
She stepped toward the window, giving herself some space as her mind worked. She looked back at him. “What is too far?”
“Too far is when someone can get hurt. Not breakup hurt, but life-altering hurt.”
Her brows pulled together. “I…don’t understand.”
“We could spend a lot of time debating this, but the bottom line is that our lives are different. Our goals are different. We are different.”
“And you’re falling in love with me.” Kristen had no idea where she’d gotten the strength to toss that out there, but there it lay, like a live bomb between them.
Austin’s blue gaze drilled into her. “Maybe that’s the biggest reason.” So much for the bomb. Dealt with and now what?
She wanted to reach out and take him by the front of the shirt. Shake some sense into him. If he loved her, then…
Nothing. Because it always came back to the same issue. Austin’s forte.
“Who are you protecting?”
“You.” The word came out of his mouth almost before her question was asked. “And that’s just the way it is.” The thumb hooked in his pocket dragged it down even more. “This isn’t easy for me, Kris. But it is realistic.”
Realistic. She disagreed. If it was realistic, she wouldn’t be fighting it so much. She was the realist of the two. She started to hug her arms around herself, then quickly dropped them to her sides, opening herself back up. She refused to look defensive. Or hurt. He knew she was hurt. No sense belaboring the point.
“This is for the best, Kristen.”
“Right. Got another platitude?”
His mouth tightened. They were four feet apart, but it felt like a mile. A gulf separated them that didn’t have to be there.
“When you left Marietta, things were good between us. What changed?”
“I guess I just came to my senses.”
She let out an exasperated breath. “You’re afraid that if you give me the real reason, that I’ll figure a way around it.”
The shift in his expression confirmed her suspicion. He wasn’t about to give her more ammo, which meant that he was worried about what she might do with it. “It doesn’t matter if you do, Kristen. We need to end things. Now.” Austin shifted his weight. “I should go.”
No. You should stay here and duke this out with me.
Was his sudden retreat tied to his injury? The stitches, the black eyes, the fractured leg?
Her gut told her no. It was connected to his friend’s injury—or maybe it was the result of a perfect storm of circumstances. The one thing she did know was that he believed he was doing the right thing, standing here, breaking her heart.
They would address that later, after she had time to think.
He started for the door and she realized that she couldn’t let him leave thinking that this was over.
“I’m tougher than you’re giving me credit for, Austin.”
He turned at the door, his intense blue gaze zeroing in on her. “And sometimes we’re not as tough as we think.” His mouth tightened. “That’s when we break.”
*
Smooth, Harding. Very smooth.
Austin felt like shit as he drove away from Kristen’s house, but he’d done the right thing. How could it not be the right thing if it saved Kristen grief in the end?
Maybe, you jerk, she would have just forgotten you after moving to Reno. Maybe circumstances would have gotten in the way and you guys would have drifted apart.
And maybe that was yet another chickenshit way to handle things.
This way there was no question about their relationship. It was over.
Austin ran his fingers over the stitches, testing the area for tenderness. A reminder of their different worlds. They weren’t even supposed to have a relationship. Kristen had wanted to break free of her self-imposed rules and regulations. He’d wanted to help her because he’d sensed there was someone he could like beneath her coolly defensive exterior.
Oh, he’d liked her all right. A little too much.
And she likes you.
Therein lay the problem, because how in the hell was she supposed to work her life around his? He couldn’t think of a way without her giving up something significant. Something she would regret giving up later. And there wasn’t a question of him giving up his life—he had nothing to fall back on. No plan. Which was starting to look like it might develop into an issue. It wasn’t like he could be Les Connor’s grunt on the Forty-Six Ranch forever. The guy worked him because he enjoyed working him, not because they were falling behind in upkeep and maintenance. Shelby and Ty kept the place up just fine. They didn’t need help.
If he was in Kelly’s shoes, what in the hell would he do in the long term?
Another tick in the ‘you did the right thing with Kristen’ column.
All the ticks were there. Once she cooled off, Kristen would realize that. She was logical. Sensible.
Intuitive, funny, supportive. Sexy.
Stop.
Austin turned onto the road leading to the Forty-Six. He’d grab his gear and take a nice slow drive to Omaha. He’d made plans to stop at a bull-riding practice pen owned by a friend in Rapid City and another in Sioux City. If he could find other pens along the way, he’d stop at them, too.
And maybe he should give thought to his post bull-riding career while he had some time alone on the road—although focusing on the future might just mess with his present. Mess with his focus. He was a bull rider. And when he wasn’t, he wasn’t.
The future would be there no matter what he did now.
One thing was for certain, though—he was going to face that future alone until he had something worthy to share.
*
The call from Reno came ten days after Austin had disappeared from Kristen’s life. Ten hellish days in which she’d weighed pros versus cons, sensible decisions versus impulsive decisions. Reality versus fantasy.
Reality got a foothold when she was told she had the job.
She let out a long breath, overwhelmed by a feeling of sheer relief. Security was only a couple signatures away. She’d be leaving Marietta, picking up her life in Reno. Continuing on her chosen path, wiser in the ways of the corporate world, and no longer naïve enough to believe that hard work guaranteed success.
They needed an answer by Monday, which gave her the weekend. She could say yes right now. Give a verbal, settle the matter.
She wasn’t ready to do that, and the fact that she hesitated gave her pause. Was fantasy winning?
Or did she not want to look too damned desperate?
Kristen didn’t know, and the fact that she hadn’t given an instant verbal told her that she had a lot to think about. “Thank you. I’ll get back to you on Monday. Do I call you personally?”
“Yes. You have my extension, right?”
“Right. I’ll talk to you then.”
After hanging up the phone, Kristen did not do a happy dance. She idly rubbed her upper arms as she paced through the war room. Why hadn’t she jumped immediately?
What was the reason?
Her parents and sister and Marietta came to mind, but the real reason was nearly a thousand miles away, going about his business, riding bulls and putting his life on the line.
Protecting her.
Who was protecting him?
Sometimes we aren’t as tough as we think we are. That’s when we break.
Break, indeed.
*
Kelly Kincaid would never again ride bulls, and he was also on the road to divorce. Double whammy. Austin told himself that it wasn’t his business, but Kelly’s situation ate at him. The guy had been so in love. And Melissa had appeared to love him, too.
But maybe not enough.
“Or maybe too much,” Shelby pointed out when she and Ty stopped in Omaha to watch him ride
while on their way to Tennessee and he filled them in about his friend. “And you don’t know what went on with them. Sometimes guys aren’t good at reading the signs. And sometimes they ignore the signs.”
Well, he wasn’t guilty of that. He’d read the signs and deduced that he wasn’t going to put Kristen through hell. A little pain now was better than a lot of pain later. From what he’d been able to glean from the Marietta grapevine, she’d landed her job in Reno. Once there, she’d slide back into her old life, hook up with some guy who didn’t regularly flirt with death and all would be well.
For both of them.
He had to remember that, but sometimes it was hard when he was dealing with a hole in his gut that wasn’t diminishing with time.
You’re doing the right thing—doing what you have to do.
He couldn’t offer Kristen the security she needed, couldn’t even guarantee that he’d have a job in a year, a month, a week. If he got hurt tomorrow, if he found himself in Kelly Kincaid’s shoes, he had no backup plan, other than holing up on the Forty-Six until he figured out his plan.
Whatever that might be. The practice pens he’d visited had been inspiring, but he’d need a partner to set one up. And a clientele. And a location. Even if he had all those things, the reality was that he’d probably still need a day job to make ends meet. That meant luck or training.
He missed the days when he hadn’t thought about the future.
Missed them a lot.
He did his best to focus on his upcoming ride as he traveled north on Highway 93. It was late afternoon when Missoula came into view, the city spreading out in the valley beneath the mountains that had once held a deep glacial lake. He’d always liked Missoula. He’d had some good times there. He planned to have more good times.
While he could.
Austin’s face tightened. He had to stop thinking like that. It wasn’t doing his rides any good. He’d finished okay in Omaha, okay in Deadwood, okay in Billings. But he’d dropped a couple places in the standings and needed to ramp up his focus. Regain lost ground.
Missoula was where he was going to do that. If nothing else, he’d do it for Kelly, the guy who’d helped him see that no matter how much you might want something, that didn’t mean you were going to get it.
Chapter Fifteen
Slick Back was a small bull with a nasty attitude—quick and agile, totally unpredictable. There would be no lazy spins or half-hearted bucks. Slick Back relished every contest, and Austin had been fortunate to draw him when he needed a high score to boost his standings. The bull would do his part. It was all on Austin now.
The bull shifted nervously, stamping his feet as Austin went through his prep. As soon as he was in place, Austin nodded. The spotter released his vest and Slick Back burst out into the arena before the gate fully opened, snapping Austin’s head back with the force of his first landing.
Austin tucked his chin, pushed down hard, rolled a shoulder first in, then out, to counteract a sudden spin followed by an equally sudden reversal. The bull’s feet pounded the earth, but he still moved fluidly, his back humping as he pushed his shoulders high into the air, all four feet coming off the ground. He landed hard, swinging his ass around, pounding the arena floor again as he reared, then spun. Austin stayed square in the middle, sheer determination holding him in place at times. The horn sounded and he started debating dismounts, when suddenly Slick Back shifted beneath him, shifted in a way that his body hadn’t expected and the world went sideways as the bull’s feet came out from under him and he slammed to the ground on his side, taking Austin with him.
The blackness started to clear, giving way to a mottled black and white world as Austin opened his eyes, inhaled dirt. He tried to lift his head, but pressure from above kept it from moving.
Pinned. He was pinned under the bull. He had to get free.
He put his palms in the dirt, pushed up. Couldn’t move. The weight was too great. Frantic now, he pulled his knee up to get it under him so that he could struggle free of the massive bull and his body exploded in pain. An animalistic sound ripped out of his throat.
“It’s me, buddy. You’re okay. Lie still.”
Austin didn’t recognize the voice, but his brain started to wrap around the fact that it wasn’t the bull that had him pinned. Slick Back wasn’t lying on him. He was being held down by a fellow human being. Kept from moving. Why?
He wasn’t paralyzed. The pain was too fucking intense. But he needed to get to the gate before the bull came back.
He couldn’t move.
His head went back down; he took another lungful of dirt. Closed his eyes. Moaned again.
“Easy.”
There were hands on him. Testing, touching. Voices. A low rumble. Not a bull. An engine. A vehicle. He was going to be run over if he didn’t get off the highway he was lying on. He struggled again and was rolled over onto something hard. Pinned down again as he squinted against the bright orbs of light above him.
And then he was weightless. Rising in the air. Moving.
Ambulance. They were putting him in a fucking ambulance.
Better than lying on a highway waiting to be run over. Maybe.
A face came into focus. One of the medical guys, peering down at him, looking concerned. Too concerned.
Austin made a sound and the guy leaned closer.
“Score?” The word slurred out of his lips, barely audible, but the guy understood.
“Ninety something, man. You did good.”
*
Kristen’s head came up at the sound of footsteps in the deserted hospital corridor, and she rose to her feet as a nurse came around the corner, clipboard in hand. The nurse gave Kristen an encouraging smile. “You can go in now.”
“Thank you.” The words barely came out. Despite several cups of coffee, her throat was dry, her nerves shot.
“He’s on serious pain meds. He may not remember this visit.”
“I just want to see him.” She’d driven almost four hours from Marietta to Missoula without stopping, arriving at the hospital in the early hours of the morning, only to be told that Austin was still in recovery.
That was when she started pacing. Pacing and making serious life choices. There was no way that Austin was going through this alone. His brother and sister-in-law were in Tennessee. His parents in Arizona. She was available and when Shelby Harding had called her to tell her that Austin had a bad wreck, she hadn’t even paused to pack a bag. She’d grabbed her jacket, purse and keys and headed out the door. It wasn’t until she got to Missoula that she’d sent her sister a text telling her that her car hadn’t been stolen. It was in Missoula.
“Room 544. Almost to the end of the hall, on the right.”
Kristen thanked the nurse and started down the corridor, needing more than anything to confirm that Austin was in one piece.
He’s alive. He’s okay. It could have been worse.
She’d repeated the words so many times that they blurred together in her head, had essentially lost meaning, but still made her feel better. The door was open when she reached the room and she paused before going inside. His eyes were shut, his skin pale, his hair sticking out in random spikes against the pristine pillow. There was a nasty abrasion up one side of his face, another on his sinewy forearm, which rested atop the white sheet covering his lower body.
Kristen walked toward the bed, coming to a stop a few feet away, giving herself time to process the extent of Austin’s injuries. The adrenaline that had kept her going for the past six hours was dissipating, leaving her feeling weak. Exhausted. And close to tears.
She could cry later. When she was alone.
She dropped her purse on the counter and was about to take a seat in the chair next to the bed when Austin’s eyes opened. He frowned as he fought to focus, making her wonder if he thought she was some kind of a drug-induced hallucination.
“Why are you here?” The words croaked out of his dry lips.
Would he remember this conve
rsation in the morning?
Judging from his almost fully dilated pupils, she guessed the answer was no. But if he did remember, he’d be chewing on the truth. “Shelby called.”
Another slow-motion frown formed as he digested that bit of information. “Shelb?”
“Yeah.”
His eyes drifted shut again, a grimace of pain forming on his face. “Why?”
She could barely hear him, so she moved closer. “Maybe she figured out something you didn’t.”
It took him a few seconds to say, “What?”
“We’ll talk about that later.” At length.
His thumb clicked the medication button he held in one hand and then his hand relaxed. He’d drifted off again…or so Kristen thought, until he said her name.
She moved closer to the bed, fighting the urge to touch him. Feel the warm of this body, the reassuring beat of his heart under her hand. “Yes?”
Austin pulled in a deep breath, his face contorting as his chest rose. He exhaled painfully, then whispered, “You shouldn’t be here.”
Kristen had expected the rejection. Had steeled herself for it.
It still stung.
She gave her head a weary shake. “But I am here.”
And there wasn’t a lot Austin could do about it.
*
It was the scent that tugged at him, urging him to surface, to open his eyes. Delicately floral with just a hint of something else. Some kind of spice. Kristen’s scent.
As soon as he came fully conscious, Austin rolled his head to the side, fully expecting to find her sitting next to him, but the chair beside the bed was empty. Marshaling his strength, he lifted his head. The bathroom door was open. The curtains that divided the room were pushed to the wall.
There was no one in the room.
But she’d been there. He was certain of it.
He fumbled for the medication pump and found that it was gone. Probably a good thing. His leg, his entire lower body, ached like a son of a bitch, but he wanted a clear head as he dealt with this new wrinkle in his life.
He slowly lifted the sheet to take a look at his lower body. His right leg was wrapped and when he shifted it even minutely, he could feel trouble brewing. His right hip hurt like hell, his right shoulder didn’t want to move and he could feel the bruise throbbing on that side of his face. The nurse came in during his once-over, introduced herself as Dani, and made him tell her his name and birthdate before setting about making him more comfortable. As if that were even a possibility. “Want to give me a rundown on what all they did to me last night?”