Hot Quit

by Kathryn Roberts

Looking at Jackson, she was surprised that there was not even a hint of revulsion in his expression. “Go on,” he said. “Did you beat him?”

  Taking a deep breath she hesitated while the waitress set down a plate heaped with pancakes and eggs and her own smaller plate of toast. “Yes,” she said softly after the waitress left. “I did. But it was no victory. It just meant that I was good at what I was doing.”

  Jackson heard the wounds reopened and wanted to hold her, to reassure her, but she changed the subject.

  “And you? Where did you meet Everett?”

  “I was sixteen years old and I had been jumping rail cars all over, looking for someplace to belong. I got off in Abilene and stole the keys to the fanciest truck I’d ever seen.”

  “Everett’s truck?” she laughed.

  “Yep.” He snickered at how stupid he’d been. “Long story short, I bashed up a front fender, and when I got caught, he told the judge, who was a friend of his, that he wanted me to work the damage off. At first I tried to be tough, but before long, he had me eating out of his hand, just like everyone else.”

  “That’s when he put you on a horse, right?” she said, entertained and interested.

  “Right.” His eyes sparkled and made his face light up. “I found out I was good at it, when I’d never been good at anything else in my life, and it felt so right that I never went back.”

  “I know how that feels,” she said, excitement building. “It’s a power trip.”

  He directed his gaze to her, halted by the tone of her voice. “Is it power to belong?”

  The conversation suddenly changed; she was instantly aware and afraid. Everything had gone along comfortably, polite conversation lulling raw nerves, easing bruised feelings, but one or two words later, and it was getting uncomfortably hot and the air was stifling. His penetrating gaze seemed to cut right through her.

  “Belonging? No, belonging is not a power trip.” She brought her napkin to her mouth and shifted nervously.

  “Then what is it?”

  “Really, Jackson, how should I know? I’ve never belonged in my whole life. I—”

  “You belong with me, Alex.”

  How could he sound so horribly calm when she was about to explode, and how could he say such ridiculous things?

  “No. I don’t even want to talk about it.” She thought about leaving, but was sure he’d make a scene. Her only hope was to regain control. “Tell me about the thing with Trisha.”

  “I thought we were going to be honest with each other.”

  Her temper flared. “Are you going to call me a liar again?”

  “No.”

  There was a pregnant pause for quite a while, and Alexandria knew she’d hit her mark. He crossed his arms over his chest like an Indian war chief. She’d made him be quiet for the moment, but didn’t know if she had it in her to do it again.

  “Trisha thought she was in love with me. I was giving her riding lessons and it gradually got away from both of us. She bought a horse from me and together we both were disciplined by the cutting horse association. I wasn’t allowed to earn money within the association for a year. At the time, I had just bought my place and had a ten-thousand-dollar balloon payment hanging over my head, and no way to pay it since I was fined and had to go to court. When you came along, it was perfect timing.”

  Cups rattled around them, distant chatter filled the room, but neither Jackson nor Alexandria moved.

  “Why didn’t Everett lend you the money?” she whispered as she toyed with the corner of her napkin.

  “He offered. But I’ve never been a man to let others bail me out.” He put both palms on the table and leaned forward. “Which is why I’m here now. I love you, Alex, and there’s got to be some way we can get through all this chafe and get down to the basic facts.”

  He reached across the table and touched her chin with his forefinger. She wouldn’t look at him, so he gently directed her face to him. “I said I love you. Do you love me, Alex?”

  It was impossible to lie at this point, and she tried to avert her gaze but he held her. “I…I don’t know,” she said on the verge of nervous laughter or tears, whichever might come first.

  “You knew in Temecula. Was it a lie?”

  She pulled away. “No,” she whispered, barely audible to herself. “No, it was no lie.” She took a deep breath, her pulse pounding in her temple and her hands shaking even though she held one tight in the other. One tear escaped and dropped to her cheek. “I do love you.”

  Again he tenderly tipped her chin so he could see her face. “Then why the tears? We love each other. It’s good news.”

  “No, I keep trying to tell you, it’s not.” She burst out in tears as she got up and ran from the restaurant.

  Jackson leaped up, reached for her as she ran by, and missed by mere inches. He ran into the spectacled waitress, who wanted to know if he wanted the bill added to his room charge.

  “Yes, 2218,” he said as he charged past her. Outside there was no sign of Alexandria, and he hastily concluded that if he were a crying woman he’d head for his room. He ran again through the concourse and found her waiting by the elevators.

  “Now I know we have something to talk about,” he said as he took her by the elbow. “Your room or mine?”

  “Neither. This won’t work. There’s no use in talking about it; it just won’t work.”

  “Wrong.” He stepped into the elevator, taking her with him. “My room.”

  Alexandria fought with herself. She didn’t want to go to his room, but she didn’t want him in hers because there would be no place for her to run to. Like an unwilling horse, it felt like he dragged her every step until they reached 2218. He produced a key and they entered. Once inside, she knew she had to compose herself, knowing that things weren’t going to get easier, just more impossible.

  His bed was unmade, and it brought unwelcome thoughts of what might have been. It would have been great, but she had to reconcile herself to the fact that memories were all she was going to have.

  He stood in front of the door like an Egyptian guard, legs akimbo and arms crossed. Everything about him, down to his expression, was strong and unyielding. She began to doubt she had the courage to walk away from a confrontation with him. The only thing that made her speak first was the fact that he would not. It was a proven negotiating tactic, and she approved of his approach, even though it put her at a decided disadvantage.

  “Stop thinking with your heart and start thinking for a minute with your head. You and I have nothing in common other than a month together. You’ve gone back to your own life and I’ve gone back to mine. There’s no place for me with you, and I know you’d die living in the city with me, not to mention the fact that you’d be harping at me all the time about my ethics.” She’d spoken as quickly as she could to give him no opportunity to interrupt, and at the end, she wanted to gasp for breath. She felt light-headed and sick to her stomach, and she reached for the back of a chair to steady herself. “So you see, it won’t work. There has to be something more.”

  He continued to stand, looking over her like a stone sentinel.

  “Why aren’t you saying anything? I thought you’d…” Her voice died out as she suspected a trap. “You aren’t going to let me out of here, are you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  His gravelly voice gave her shivers. “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” His great body seemed to soften with each word. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never loved a woman like you before, and I’ve never had to fight like this just to be heard. I’m a little embarrassed, but I’m more worried that you won’t listen.”

  “I’m sorry, but you don’t understand.”

  He moved toward her as the words tumbled out. “It’s you who doesn’t understand.”

  She backed away from him, but he advanced quickly and took her in his arms. There was no hope if she gave in now and she struggled to be free. He let her go, but h
eld her wrist. Slowly he drew her forward until his lips touched hers. His kiss was gentle, forgiving, and unbearable.

  Alexandria knew she should run, but the knowledge that this was probably the last time he would ever kiss her made her stop to relish the feeling.

  “Please,” she said as she finally pushed him away. “Please, I can’t think at all.”

  He covered her mouth once again to silence her, but pulled away slowly. “It’s your choice, Alex.” His gruff whisper was thickened by passion. “Do you want me to stop?”

  Alex was unable to think, much less answer, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally she mouthed the words she couldn’t bear to speak aloud. “Yes.”

  Slowly he relieved the pressure and she felt him release her wrist. She couldn’t look at him, but she knew he was watching.

  “OK.” He stepped back. “I’ll do anything you say. You tell me what’s next.”

  “Please, Jackson, you’ve got to try to understand how impossible this is. We’re not Romeo and Juliet; we’re not love-stricken teenagers; we are adults who have responsibilities.” Her eyes began to cloud with tears and she tried to hold them back. “This is not a fairy tale, and we’ve got to realize that when it comes down to everyday life—after the chemistry cools off—we have to go on living. I want to remember how sweet it was for us, not live in fear you’ll leave me when the illusion is gone.”

  “Alex.” He touched her cheek; she realized he was wiping the tears that had begun to roll down.

  Quickly she waved his hand away and looked straight at him to make sure there was no mistake. “My name is Alexandria. I live in Los Angeles, and I’m a corporate raider. I have to go now or I’ll miss the appointments I have scheduled.”

  She turned and opened the door. As she stepped into the hall, she looked back. She’d never seen such pain on his face.

  “Please forgive me, Jackson, I do love you, but this has to be good-bye.”

  CHAPTER 12

  “For Christ’s sake, son, I never thought I’d see you give up on something you wanted.” Everett had been arguing with Jackson for the last half hour and showed no sign of giving in. Jackson, on the other hand, felt like he’d been ridden hard and put up wet. At least he was sitting on the couch and comfortable.

  “Ev, come on, you’re always the one who says a man has to cut his losses. This has gone bad and I see it. There’s no reason to continue chasing after her.”

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this kind of stuff from you. When I jerked you out of the penal system, you’d never heard the word quit. That’s why you kept gettin’ back on that miserable black horse. He’d buck you off, and you’d go right back for more. Why do you think I called him Joker?”

  Jackson rolled his eyes as he answered. “You told me a hundred times, because the horse had enough cow and the breeding to be a world champion, but he never found a rider who made him want to do anything but joke about the subject. I know, but this is different. I had a chance then. Alex has told me over and over there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that we’re goin’ to make it. She won’t even let me call her Alex—it’s Alexandria, and probably the next time I see her it will be back to Ms. Payne.”

  “So?”

  Jackson toyed with the table lamp next to him, pulling the chain and turning it on and then off. “So I’m not making any progress.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “She keeps running away from me, that’s why.”

  “Doesn’t a person run away from things that scare ’em?”

  “Ev, I don’t know anymore.”

  “Well, think about it. You sound tired, son, and it’s late. You go try to get some sleep. I’m going to Amarillo tomorrow, but I’ll call you when I get back. Go sleep, you hear me?”

  “I will,” Jackson lied. He hadn’t been able to sleep the night through for a week since Ogden. “Talk to you later.” He hesitated, knowing how worried Everett was to have called every day for the last three days. “And Ev, thanks.”

  He hung the phone up and pulled the string on the lamp one last time. Darkness settled around him like a shroud and he was alone again. It used to be the way he liked it, but now it felt like punishment. Being alone was oppressive when all he wanted was the sound of her voice, the ripple of her laughter, the flash in her eyes when he pushed her to ride a little harder.

  He got up from the couch and went to the bedroom, but as soon as he touched the threshold, he stopped. Like a shrine, her things were still there, waiting for her return, and suddenly he didn’t want to see physical proof that she was gone. He closed the door, turned, and went outside. He walked down to the pasture in back of the barn where Joker was.

  The old horse was in the far corner by the huge oak trees as usual, but since there was no moon, Jackson couldn’t actually see him until he was very close, but a soft nicker welcomed him.

  “Hey, old man. Here I am again, needing you, wanting advice.” He ran his hand through the thick mane and felt the familiar nuzzling that meant he understood. “I’ve never been in such a fix. I don’t know if I’d love her as much if she was an easy catch, but it doesn’t matter; I have no choice and don’t think I ever did. I guess I should have known when someone named Hesperia called that something extraordinary was happening.” He ran his hand along the horse’s top line and down into his tail. A couple of open-handed pats and he wandered to the base of the oak, sat down, and rested against it.

  “You should see her ride, Joker. She’s got more natural talent than I ever hoped to have, and I can see it in her face that it excites her; she likes it. I just can’t figure why she’s throwing it all away.”

  Joker’s arthritic joints creaked and popped as he turned and moved close enough to put his head right in front of Jackson, who rubbed his broad forehead. “Sure, she’s used to caviar and jet airplanes, but she was happy here, I know. It showed like a neon light.”

  The gelding inhaled, then exhaled as if he had seen it too. “Maybe it’s all me. I didn’t trust her when I should have, but darn it, Joker, she wasn’t straight with me.”

  Joker blew his nose, and in that unique way a horse has of making its point, he blew dirt and wet things all over Jackson. “I take it you don’t agree,” he said as he wiped his arms and chest. “Well, it doesn’t matter much now, we both made mistakes.” Joker shook his head, probably to fend off evening flies, but it looked for all the world like he was agreeing with Jackson.

  For a long time, they both were quiet. Joker was probably sleeping, like an old man dozes in his recliner at night, but all sorts of things were going through Jackson’s mind. Was she afraid, as Everett concluded? Her reluctance to deal with the truth meant she was afraid of…he tried to plug in a number of things, but it always came back to the same thing. She didn’t want things to change. She was enjoying cutting, life on the ranch, and him. Her fear grew from the fact that she believed things would change. She was afraid she would lose something that meant a lot to her.

  “She said she loves me, you know.”

  Joker nodded in agreement.

  “She never lied to me about that.”

  Joker nodded again.

  “She only lied when she was afraid.” It flashed back to him that she lied when she told him she’d come to Ogden to see Everett, and suddenly he saw the barracuda, the financial genius, as a vulnerable woman, one who had to succeed in order to get her own father to pay attention to her, one who had taken a cold fish like Paul Maitland into her arms because she was starved for warmth.

  Suddenly he knew what he had to do. He’d once called her Rapunzel and urged her to let down her hair. Now she’d done it and it was his turn to climb the tower and set her free. She was waiting for him to slay her dragons and all he’d been thinking about was slaying his own.

  He stood so fast that Joker blew rollers and momentarily shied away. Jackson hugged the sleek neck. “Joker, you’re perfect. I’ve never had a problem that you didn’t help with, but now I’ve gotta go.�
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  It was a clear day, clearer than most in Los Angeles. Jackson had caught a red-eye and although he’d hadn’t slept at all, he wasn’t tired; in fact, he’d never felt so alive, so invigorated. APM owned and was housed in a huge building that cast its distinctive silhouette across the downtown LA skyline. It hadn’t been hard to find, even for a man more comfortable with rolling hills and creeks than city blocks and taxicabs.

  Jackson paused in front of a giant carved mahogany door on the twenty-seventh floor of a twenty-eight story building. He didn’t know if she was in this early, but finding her was the first step of his plan. The door wasn’t as heavy as it looked, and he stepped inside. The air was cool, but he knew beads of nervous perspiration were about to garnish his temple as he stepped up to a very contemporary receptionist’s desk. A pretty brunette was on the phone; she looked to him as soon as he came in, then went back to the phone call.

  Jackson waited while she finished, hung up, and directed her attention to him. “Hesperia?” he asked doubtfully.

  “Ah, no.” The receptionist smiled as if he’d just made an off-color joke. “She’s Ms. Payne’s personal secretary. May I help you?”

  “Is Ms. Payne in?”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then I’ll have to check. May I tell her who’s calling?”

  “No.”

  She looked to him, her expression a direct question of his stability and intentions. “I have to know who—”

  “Just tell me if she’s in, please.”

  The woman hesitated, then lifted the phone. “There’s a man here to see Ms. Payne, and he won’t give his name.” Her voice was tentative.

  A door to the left opened and Paul appeared. “Just as I thought,” he said as he glided toward Jackson. “Mr. Morgan, why are you here?”

  “I don’t remember asking to see you.” Jackson stood his ground, knowing that if he had to fight for her, he would.

  Paul rubbed his hands together as he walked toward the entrance door. He grabbed the handle and pulled it open. “You have no reason to see her, either. I suggest you leave right now.”