by T. J. Kline
“Pshh,” she scoffed. “Really?” She arched a brow in disbelief. “Then I’m sure you know where to find John?”
“Of course. I already checked. He’s still running the boys’ ranch.”
She blew out a breath and shook her head. “Deep roots, huh?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Rayne ignored his question and clipped the end of the absorbable suture, swabbing medication over the area. “There. Just keep Vaseline over it and flies off of it. Don’t ride him until it’s healed up.” She ran a hand over the gelding’s shoulder. “He’s going to be fine.”
Rayne turned her back on him and headed toward her truck. Ty dogged her steps, unsure what to say next. There was no logical reason for her to stay any longer, but he didn’t want her to leave yet. “Um, how much do I owe you?”
She looked back at him for a quick second before shutting the box in the bed of her truck. “This one’s on the house, Ty. Just do me a favor and find a different clinic to call next time. Call Dr. Wilson. I’m sure she’d be happy to put up with you.” She locked the box on the other side and slid behind the wheel, twisting the key in the ignition. “And go visit John at Mercy General. I think he’d really like to see you.”
Mercy General?
“The hospital?”
“Yes, Ty, the hospital. John had a stroke. Maybe a visit from someone with deep roots will help.”
CHAPTER TWO
Ty stood in the doorway of the ICU room and stared at John, lying immobile in the bed. He barely resembled the father-figure who’d spent so many days gruffly ordering them around, reminding them what it meant to be a man. So many days sweating it out in the pasture, mending fences and herding the cattle that helped fund the facility that turned wayward boys into men. It hadn’t mattered to John whether the boys came from money or poverty; when they were with him, they all had one standard to live up to—John’s.
The antiseptic smell of the room couldn’t hide the underlying scent of despair. Ty’s heart beat in time with the steady beep of the heart monitor and the whoosh of the respirator, but he felt little hope as he stared at the sagging sallow face of the man who’d once demanded his respect, forcing him to stack, unstack, and restack hay until he confessed to stealing a piggin string from the local feed store to practice calf roping on his own. His charm might have worked on the woman behind the counter that day, but it hadn’t worked on John any better than it had Rayne yesterday.
“If a man can’t be trusted, his word is worth nothing, and that’s all you have in this world, Ty. A real man never lies, especially to a woman.”
And that had been just one of the many rules he’d learned under John’s tutelage. John could have written a book with the many lessons he’d taught them on being men. Lessons about honor, dignity, and justice. Values that most people ignored, John drove home, producing men who would do more good than harm. Unlike many of the boys sent to the ranch by their rich parents to learn a lesson or two, Ty had arrived a juvenile delinquent ward of the state, full of rage and determined to take a shot at his drunk-ass, abusive father figuratively, and likely literally had John not jerked him off the destructive path he’d been on at the time. If not for John, he'd have landed himself in jail a long time ago. Instead, Ty tried to get his father help. When the man drank himself to death a few years ago, Ty had paid for the funeral knowing that the cost was too steep for his father’s new wife, struggling with their son, already heading down the same path Ty’d been on. He might not have been able to forgive his father enough to attend, but he'd taken care of all of the arrangements for a proper burial from the road because, as John would have reminded him, it was the right thing to do.
“You actually showed up?” Ty spun to see Rayne slip through the door and let it shut behind her with a soft click. “I didn't think you would.”
He felt a sharp stab in his chest. It was his own fault that she saw him as heartless, and after the way he’d left, it was no wonder. He had been heartless in the way he treated her that night. He glanced back at the bed, at the man who'd tried to teach him to never lie. If he'd listened to John, he wouldn’t be in this mess now.
Rayne tried to ignore the heavy weight of Ty's scrutiny. The nurses didn't even question her presence in John's room anymore. She was a regular visitor, coming in nearly every day to read to him for a few minutes, or tell him about the animals she was treating and the people who owned them, most his long time neighbors. But having Ty in the room made her uncomfortable. She was second-guessing her every movement and she certainly wasn't about to have her usual one-sided conversation with Ty sitting there listening.
“I'll just come back later,” she muttered, reaching for the purse she’d laid on the rolling table in the corner.
“Stay. Please.” Ty looked back at John and ran a hand over his face.
She heard his palm rasp over the stubble on his jaw and could see the powerlessness weighing on him. As angry as she wanted to be at him for leaving, for turning his back on both her and John and disappearing without a word, she could see the regret in his eyes. He didn't need her to remind him of what he'd left behind, of what he'd given up, when he made his escape twelve years ago. Seeing John in his current state was all the reminder he needed of just what he’d sacrificed, being gone.
Rayne wanted to move closer to Ty, to comfort him as he tried to process John's condition. The man had been like a father to them both. Instead she sank into the chair by John’s bedside with a sigh, clenching her fists into tight balls in her lap to keep from reaching out to touch him, to soothe the pain she could see etched in his face.
“How long has he been like this?”
She avoided looking at Ty, even if she was answering his question. “About five days. I've been trying to get a hold of all of the guys, but some of the numbers on John's phone were no good, and I haven't exactly had time to spend tracking everyone down.”
Most of the guys who’d been at John’s ranch with them had left Saddle Creek behind. She didn’t fault them for wanting to move on and look toward their futures, especially since most of them didn’t have a lot to hold them here. Except for Ty. He'd had her; he just hadn't wanted her enough.
“I might have numbers and emails for some of them,” he muttered, pulling out his phone.
She shrugged, as if it didn't matter, but she knew she was minimizing the situation. Rayne had been trying to stall letting the doctors make any decisions about his condition until she made sure all of the guys had the opportunity to say their final goodbyes to John. She had a feeling John somehow understood her predicament and was only hanging on until then. It didn't make logical sense but, in her gut, it felt true, and something John would be stubborn enough to do.
“I’ll get them later,” she offered.
It was easier to focus on John. Easier to talk about his condition, rather than admit the hurt she still felt, caught in the broken pieces of her heart. She’d tried to mend them, but Ty’s departure had left her with shards that had never quite fit back together. As if he could read her mind, Ty cleared his throat.
“I'm sorry, Rayne.” Ty scrubbed his hand over his jaw, in desperate need of a shave, looking almost as pale and haggard as the old man in the hospital bed. “I should have...” He let his hands drop to his sides, helpless.
She hated the way her heart clenched, pained by the agony and regret she could see in his face. She wanted to believe that he wished he could have been here, for John. Or for her. But his silence over the years spoke far louder than his apologies.
“I don't know what I could have done, but I should have been here.”
“For who, Ty? Me or John?” Her hands gripped the wooden arms of her chair tightly, trying to control her emotions. Anger and sympathy battled for a place in her heart. She didn't want to feel sorry for him, and she certainly didn't want him to know she was still drawn to him. As far as Ty was concerned, she wanted him to think he didn't matter to her at all.
But her
body wasn't about to accept the lie. The fury she could still feel welling in her chest at his abandonment did nothing to still the way her heart raced as he moved closer to where she sat. Or to stop her breath from catching as he reached out to her. It did nothing to still the jolt of electricity that shot up her fingers and into her arm as he touched her hand, making every nerve ending sizzle in response.
“I should have been here for both of you.”
His eyes practically pleaded with her to forgive him, to understand. The problem was that she couldn't understand how he’d been able to just walk away, pretend that they hadn't been in love for three years. How could he have left her behind without ever once looking back? How could he never call? How could he never visit? Not a day had gone by that she hadn’t thought of him, or wondered how he’d been.
He ran his thumb over the back of her hand and heat swirled through her limbs, filling her belly with nervous fluttering, the way it had when she was a young girl, and warming the juncture of her thighs, the way it had when he'd taught her how to be a woman.
Damn him.
Rayne pulled her hand from his, trying desperately to grasp the anger that was fading at his nearness, and heard him let out a long sigh. “What happened, Rayne? We used to be friends.”
The man must have balls made out of titanium to have the nerve to ask her that. It was enough to dredge up the disillusionment and heartache she’d once felt.
“Friends?” She rose from the chair and moved away from him, letting a bitter laugh fall from between her lips. “Is that how you remember it? Gee, I guess I must have misread our relationship. That ring you put on my finger said so much more to me. That night...”
She took a deep breath, stopping herself from saying anything more; she'd already said far more than she wanted to. “You know what? I'll just come back and see John later.”
She snatched her purse and hurried for the door, just as Rebecca, one of John's regular nurses, opened it. “Oh! Sorry, Rayne. I didn't expect you until later.” Rayne took a step back, moving out of the way as Rebecca wheeled in her equipment. “And, I didn't realize you had company. Let me just take care of him and I’ll be out of your way.”
“We should just go,” Rayne said, glaring at Ty across the room.
“What are you doing?” Ty’s voice was quiet, but demanded an answer.
Rebecca looked at Rayne for confirmation. “Just taking his vitals. Are you family?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” she repeated, her tone indicating that she wasn’t likely to share privileged information with non-family visitors. “Well, I'm sure Rayne can fill you in on anything you might need to know.”
Ty simply looked at Rayne and gave a quick scoff. “I'm sure she will.”
Rebecca looked from Rayne back to Ty. “Why don't you guys head down to the cafeteria? Don't worry, we'll be waiting for you when you get back. I'll give you a call when the doctor makes his rounds, Rayne.” Rebecca shot Rayne a sly wink as Ty held the door open for her.
Rayne couldn't hold it against her. What woman wouldn't want to spend time with a guy that looked like Ty Prescott? Rebecca had no idea what sort of hell she'd just sentenced Rayne to, and Rayne had little doubt the next few minutes would be anything short of torture.
CHAPTER THREE
Ty’s studied Rayne as she carried her coffee to their table, letting his gaze slide over her, from her dark hair, pulled back in a ponytail, to the full lips that used to smile easily around him, down her body, taking in the luscious curves that had still been a lanky, coltish body twelve years ago. Her husband was a lucky, lucky man.
Rayne took her seat in the hard, plastic chair across from him. Her eyes might be clouded and unreadable, but her posture spoke volumes. She looked like she'd give almost anything to be rid of him again. She'd barely spoken to him since they left John's room, unless the occasional grunt and one-word answers could be called speaking. He turned the half-empty paper cup between his fingers, the bitter coffee growing colder by the second, trying to figure out what he could say that would help breach the chasm between them.
Rayne swiped her finger over the front of her phone, checking the time and letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, as scintillating as all this catching up has been, I have appointments this afternoon.” She unfolded her lithe frame from the chair and rose.
“No, you don’t. You were coming to see John until you saw me in the room.” She opened her mouth to deny it, but closed it just as quickly. “Just because we have a past doesn't mean we can't have a civil conversation, does it?”
She arched a saucy brow at him and he immediately dreaded the scathing answer he could see her formulating in her mind. What was it going to take for her to realize he'd give just about anything to go back and do things differently?
“I'm sorry for what I said to you that night, Rayne. I should have...”
Told the truth. Told you that I needed you, but didn't want to stand in the way of your dreams.
“…gone about things differently.”
Her eyes narrowed, turning icy. “You think?”
“I know I can't make up for what a jerk I was in the past, but since I'm back and we only live a few miles from one another, we'll be in contact. I'd like us to at least get along, if not be friends again.”
“This town may be small, but I'm sure I can manage to avoid you.” She took a sip of her own coffee, trying to hide her grimace of distaste.
“Not when you're the only large animal vet in town, and I'm breeding horses,” he pointed out. The truth was, he wasn't entirely sure he would be breeding, but he wasn't about to tell her that. It was an excuse, but it seemed as good a reason as any right now. He’d say just about anything if it might help break down this wall between them.
She sighed. “What is it you really want from me, Ty? Because I doubt it’s my veterinary prowess. There are plenty of other vets you could call.”
He couldn't tell her the truth, that he'd returned hoping to find her and make her his. There were no words that could convey what he'd give to have her in his life again. The last twelve years had been empty without her beside him. But she was married now. So, he found himself faced with having to do the one thing he'd regretted for the last twelve years—lying to Rayne—and did it again.
“I just decided it was time to finally set down some roots, and there's no place else I'd rather do it.”
“Sure.” She didn't look even slightly convinced as she played with her cup. “That's obvious from the number of times you’ve visited.”
“You're right, and I should have come to see John more often.” And you.
She narrowed her eyes. “So, why didn't you?”
“It was never the right time.” He took a sip of coffee, hoping its bitterness could wash away the acrid taste of the lie. “There was always another ride to make in order to stay at the top. It was like I was one of those hamsters that just runs on a wheel until it falls off. Unless an injury forced it, I couldn't stop and still make All-Around.” He shrugged. “That didn't leave much time for visits home.” He didn’t tell her about the one time he’d caved. She’d been away at school and, obviously, John hadn’t shared the information with her.
“Or phone calls,” she pointed out.
He couldn’t argue with her rebuke. “It wasn't all prize money and celebrity, that much is for sure.”
“It looks that way to everyone here.”
“Gotta put on a show.” Ty lifted his cup in deference, finishing it off with one last swallow.
“You mean, lie.”
“I like to think of it as pretending.”
“Yeah, you were always good at that.”
He knew she wasn’t talking about his rodeo career any longer. The hurt of the past continued to rear its head in every conversation. “It’s the life I chose, and I loved some parts. Others, not so much.” His gaze bore into hers, begging her to understand, to see the truth. “I had to make sacrifices. And some mist
akes.”
Rayne shook her head in obvious disgust.
“What about you? What did you do after...” he paused, searching for words that wouldn't remind her of the night he’d left, “coming back?”
She met his gaze and he could see the intensity in her eyes. He might not have said the words, but that hadn’t stopped her from remembering what he’d said when he threw her love back in her face. What an idiot he’d been.
“I went back to John's, and he gave me a job keeping his books. It freed him up to be more hands-on with the daily operations of the ranch. Enough that he let me keep doing it even after I started at college.”
“He loved you like you were his daughter.”
“He loved us all,” she countered. “But I've always seen him that way.” A soft smile spread over Rayne's face. This was the woman he remembered, filled with kindness and love. “I don't know what I would have done without John. He covered every expense that my scholarships and grants didn't.”
“You didn’t take the full-ride?” That scholarship was the only reason he’d ended things with Rayne. She’d been set on turning it down to travel the rodeo circuit with him and, with that decision, would have given up her future as a veterinarian. He knew what being a vet meant to her, and he wasn’t going to let her turn it down for him.
“I couldn’t. Word got out about what John was doing, how well it was going, and after all of you guys left that summer, the state wanted to send more kids. He got a grant to expand. I wasn’t going to leave John here to manage it alone.”
Ty couldn’t breathe. He felt like he’d just hit the ground from being bucked off a rank bronc. He’d have never let her go if he’d thought she was going to turn it down.
“Then how…”
“I figured out other options. It wasn’t like I was just going to give up. I’m pretty resourceful when I want something.” He couldn’t help the slither of guilt that crept through his chest at her comment. “Once I headed to vet school, I didn't have time to do his books anymore, so he found a bookkeeper. I still tried to come home as often as I could for him. He realized it was easier to hire on extra hands, so he hired Maria to cook and a few counselors. The ranch has grown quite a bit. After my dad died—”