Chloe held up her hand. “You know better than to argue with me. I can be every bit as stubborn as you. And if you take off without me, I’m just going to follow you all the way there.”
He didn’t doubt her one bit.
Hours later, he woke up to find it was dark outside his truck. He turned his head to see Chloe with one hand on the wheel and the other arm propped along the edge of the door. She looked tired.
He still couldn’t believe that she was with him, that she’d put her life on hold in order to travel a thousand miles with someone who hadn’t promised her anything beyond one night together and some really hot kisses. He wanted so much to be worthy of her because in that moment he knew he loved her. He was crazy, stupid in love with Chloe Brody.
As if she sensed he’d awakened, she glanced at him. “Hey, you woke up just in time to pump gas.”
He looked out the windshield to see she was getting off at an exit with a truck stop lighting up the night. “Where are we?”
“Outskirts of Pueblo, Colorado.”
He straightened in his seat. “Sorry I slept so long.”
“You needed it.”
He looked back at her. “You need to rest now.”
“I’m okay.”
“Either you let me drive my own truck when we leave here or I’m not getting in.”
She looked at him and laughed. “I guess it is your turn to be stubborn.”
After they went to the bathroom, filled up the truck with gas and loaded up on caffeine and food, they hit the road again. Despite the soda she’d drank, it wasn’t long before Chloe curled up in the corner of the passenger side and fell asleep.
Wyatt glanced over at her and smiled before returning his attention to the road. Soon they would go their separate ways, but tonight she was still with him. He could still smell her delicate feminine scent and hear her soft breathing. And it felt right. It wouldn’t last, but for now he was going to pretend it could. Tomorrow, he’d have to face the reality of his grandfather’s death. That was soon enough to cut the final tie with Chloe. Might as well get all the hurt over with at once.
* * *
CHLOE HADN’T REALIZED how hard the trip to Wyoming was going to be. She’d been to several funerals since her mother’s, but making the arrangements for one? That was a whole different story. But she hid how her insides shrank away from every decision Wyatt had to make because he shouldn’t have to do it alone.
Still, by the time their meeting with the funeral director was over, she had to excuse herself. She hurried to the restroom and splashed water on her face. The combination of fatigue, hunger and emotions tugged to the surface had her feeling shaky.
She lost track of how long she stood over the sink, staring at herself in the mirror. But if she were drained, Wyatt had to be even more so, considering he was doing everything while recovering from serious injuries.
When she stepped out into the hallway, Wyatt was waiting for her.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just tired.”
“You can go home now,” he said. “I’ll drive you to the airport, and—”
She stepped forward and took his hands in hers. “Wyatt, stop. I’m not going anywhere.”
He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You’re amazing.”
“I’m just doing what any decent person would.”
“No. Decent people send their condolences, flowers. They don’t drive through the night just to be there for someone they barely know.”
She ran her thumb across the back of one of his hands. “Maybe it doesn’t feel like I barely know you anymore.”
He stared at Chloe for a long moment before he gathered her close and just held her.
Several minutes later, they walked hand in hand to his truck. It felt so natural, as if they’d known and cared for each other much longer than they actually had. Once they were in the truck and leaving the parking lot, Wyatt reached across the seat and took her hand again. It was as if he needed the physical contact, and she wasn’t about to deny him. The truth was she found every bit as much comfort in their connection as he likely did.
She expected they were headed to a motel, so she was surprised when he pulled into the short driveway beside a small house that looked several decades old. The way he’d talked, she didn’t think he had a home anywhere. But he didn’t have to tell her this was his grandfather’s house, that this was where he’d been raised.
He sat so long staring out the windshield that she wondered if he would ever get out of the truck. But she didn’t rush him, didn’t even speak.
“I haven’t been here in a long time,” he finally said. “Only once or twice since Grandpa went into the home. Because of the Alzheimer’s, he probably didn’t even remember he had a house. But I just couldn’t get rid of it. I guess some dumb part of me kept hoping he’d get better and come back.”
Chloe squeezed his hand. “It’s not dumb. It just shows how much you loved him.”
Wyatt took a shaky breath. “He didn’t even know me anymore.”
“But you knew him. That’s what matters.”
Wyatt looked across the truck toward her. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She showed him a small smile. “Me, too.”
They were both so tired that they fell asleep within moments of curling onto a bed that she suspected had been Wyatt’s when he was a boy. When she woke, she walked down to the corner where there was a fast-food restaurant and got them something to eat. When she returned, Wyatt was standing in the middle of the living room scanning his surroundings.
“You okay?”
He shifted his attention to her. “Yeah. Just thinking how quickly I can go through all this and get the house on the market.”
“You’re selling it?”
He nodded. “This part of my life is over now. We didn’t spend a ton of time here anyway. We were on the road most of the time, traveling from one rodeo to the next.”
“What about during the school year?”
“My grandmother was a retired teacher, so she homeschooled me.”
She wondered again about his parents, but now wasn’t the time to drag up what she suspected were bad memories. He had enough to deal with at the moment.
“Do you want to get started now, or do you need some time?”
His gaze connected with hers, and she could see him trying to puzzle out, yet again, why she was here with him.
“Might be good to have something to do,” she said.
“You don’t have to do anything. You’ve done more than enough already.”
“I don’t mind. Honest.”
She didn’t know if he didn’t want to argue with her or if he really just didn’t want to face the task of going through the pieces of his grandparents’ lives alone, but he finally nodded once.
After they ate, they raided the attic for a few boxes and started dividing up what was going to charity, what was going to the garbage and what Wyatt thought he could sell. They worked for hours, packing, hauling, cleaning. Chloe looked up at one point, enjoying watching Wyatt move.
She was glad to see he was careful of his injuries, but she could also see improvement every day. That was probably born of the fact that he was used to having to heal quickly so he could get back to work. A shiver went down her spine when she thought of him getting back on a bull. It was a good thing she’d be going home soon because she didn’t want to see him injured again, or worse. Seeing the aftermath when she’d barely known him had been bad enough. Having to watch it happen when she was in love with him? She couldn’t bear that.
He nearly caught her watching, so she jerked her gaze back to the cabinet below a bookcase. She pulled out some old magazines and had to smile when she found a Scrabble game in a box that had seen be
tter days.
“I see where your affinity for this came from.”
Wyatt glanced her way then walked across the room toward her. “It’s how Grandma taught me how to spell.”
“I think you should keep this.”
Wyatt took the box from her and opened the lid. He had a faraway smile as he opened the board. “You up for a game?”
“If you’re in the mood to get beat like a drum.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”
As they played the game sitting at his grandparents’ little kitchen table, eating pizza they’d ordered, Chloe tried not to think how much she would miss him when she left. Down deep within her, it felt wrong to even think about leaving. Though they still hadn’t known each other all that long, being with him felt natural, easy. She’d gotten used to seeing him every day, looked forward to talking to him after a long day at the clinic. And what they’d shared the night before they left Texas, well, an hour couldn’t pass without her reliving it and wanting to experience being that close to him again.
Wyatt pecked the edge of the board. “Your turn.”
She realized he’d caught her daydreaming. Could he possibly know about what? “Sorry. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”
“There’s a cure for that.” Wyatt stood and held his hand out to her.
She took it and let him pull her to her feet. He tugged her a little more, right into his arms. In the next moment, his mouth had captured hers. When they finally came up for air, Wyatt wordlessly led her to bed. They didn’t make love, but she didn’t mind. When he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead, her heart filled with a rush of happiness. As she drifted toward sleep, she knew she didn’t want to let this go. Didn’t want to let Wyatt go.
* * *
WYATT TOOK A few moments by himself at the side of his grandfather’s grave to say goodbye. He dreaded the finality of walking away, but he could see the grounds crew waiting to lower the casket and cover it with freshly turned earth.
He’d never been a man to shed tears, but he hadn’t been able to help it as the minister performed the short service. He’d heard a few sniffles from the people who’d come to pay their respects—neighbors, long-time friends of his grandparents, staff members from the nursing home and a few familiar faces from area ranches and the rodeo circuit. Even his grandpa’s old roping partner, Ernie, was wheeled in by his granddaughter, Violet.
Through it all, Chloe had been right there as if it were nothing out of the ordinary for her to help him. Maybe it was just who she was, a person whose heart was so big to counteract all the heartless people in the world, like his parents.
He glanced at the half of the headstone that bore his grandma’s name. He wasn’t sure what he believed about the afterlife, but he liked the idea of them being together again. His grandpa hadn’t been the same man without his other half.
Wyatt glanced over his shoulder toward where Chloe stood next to the parking area talking to Violet and Ernie. Was she his other half? And if so, how cruel fate was.
He turned back toward the grave and placed his hand against the silver casket. “’Bye, Grandpa. Give Grandma a kiss for me, okay?” A lump rose in his throat, and he swallowed hard against it before he turned and headed toward Chloe.
When he reached the others, Chloe took his hand. That connection felt like the most wonderful thing in the world. No, more than that, but he didn’t have the poetic words to describe how that simple touch made him feel.
Ernie pointed a gnarled finger at Chloe then glanced at Wyatt. “This one’s a keeper. You’re going to have to watch her closely or someone will snatch her from you. Just might be me.” His mischievous wink and raspy laugh caused Wyatt to smile.
“Don’t make me have to wrestle you, old man.”
“Wrestle, nothing. I’ll just run over you with this chair.”
Chloe smiled then leaned forward and kissed Ernie on the cheek. As she stood straight again, she clasped Ernie’s hand. “It was nice to meet you, Ernie. You ever get down to Texas, you let me know and I’ll fix you a big batch of Texas barbecue.”
Ernie used his other hand to slap the arm of his wheelchair. “Well, what are we waiting for?”
Everyone laughed, chatted for a few more minutes, and then Violet had to get Ernie home to take his medicine.
Chloe seemed to know Wyatt needed quiet on their drive back to the house, but she held his hand the entire time, giving him silent support. He wanted to scream because soon she’d be hundreds of miles away, and he might never see her again.
As he followed her into the house, he fought the urge to tell her how he felt. But how could he be that selfish? He had no idea how he could provide for her. Sure, she had a good job, would always make more than he did. And he didn’t begrudge her that. But he’d at least like to be able to give her more than an old pickup that had seen better days, sporadic income and a pile of hospital debt. And she certainly didn’t need a mother-in-law who was in prison.
No, he had to let her go because he loved her.
When he came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, the dress hanging in his bedroom let him know Chloe had already changed into her casual clothes. He listened but didn’t hear her. After tossing the clothes he’d worn to the funeral onto the chair in his bedroom, he went in search of Chloe. He found her sitting at the kitchen table looking at pictures. His heart took a dive when he recognized the photo album.
She looked up at him then lifted one side of the album so he could see the photos. She pointed toward the photo he should have burned ages ago.
“Is this you? You were a cute little guy.”
“Yeah.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Are you okay?”
No, but how was he supposed to explain why? He could tell her the truth. Maybe it would even make it easier when she left.
Yeah, right. The only thing that would make that easier was amnesia.
She glanced back at the picture then closed the album. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I should have asked first.”
“No, it’s not that.” He shifted his focus toward the window, saw a little kid riding a bike down the sidewalk much as he had all those years ago. Damn, the thought of confessing everything to Chloe was way scarier than getting atop a bull that was determined to send him to the dirt. He crossed his arms and forced himself to meet her gaze.
“I don’t like seeing pictures of my parents.”
“I didn’t mean to add to your sadness.”
“I’m not sad. Angry is more like it.” He took a deep breath, considered stopping before he let the truth out. But the feeling that he owed her the truth settled on him. “I came to live with my grandparents because my parents were arrested and sent to prison.”
He expected a look of horror or disgust, but she only showed the slightest change in expression, to sympathy. “What happened?”
He stared at her for a moment before going to stand next to the window to gaze outside. “They were addicted to drugs. Neither of them could hold down a job, so they robbed a convenience store one night to get drug money. The clerk tried to hit an alarm, and my dad shot him.”
“Did...did the clerk die?”
The hesitation in her question broke his heart. Was she right now wishing she were back in Texas, far away from him and the ugly truth of his background?
“No, but his life was never the same after that. He’s paralyzed from the neck down.” Wyatt resisted the urge to punch through the window. “He was just a college kid working his way through school. The irony is that he wanted to be a doctor. Now, he probably wishes he never had to see another doctor as long as he lives.”
“That’s so sad.”
It was more than sad. It was a tragic waste, in so many ways.
“Do you see them?”
&nbs
p; “No.” He stopped and closed his eyes for a moment when he realized how sharp his answer had been. “My dad died in prison after only a couple of years. I’ve been to see my mother once.”
“Once the entire time she’s been there?”
From anyone else, the question would have sounded like an accusation. But with Chloe, he knew it was her innate need to fix and protect others that prompted the question.
“That was enough. She asked me to smuggle drugs into the prison for her. I told her no and that she’d blown her one shot of ever having a relationship with me again.” Though he feared what he’d see on Chloe’s face, he forced himself to look at her. His heart swelled when he didn’t see anger or accusation or even pity, but he knew better than to get his hopes up. “I know it probably disappoints you that I haven’t tried again, but I can’t. I won’t. They were the type of people who hurt everyone around them, even the people who wanted to love them.”
He slowly turned to fully face her. “So, there you have it. I’ll understand if you want to leave.”
She sat still for a few seconds before she slowly stood.
He’d meant what he said. Only he hadn’t expected her to want to leave immediately. He could kick himself to Montana and back.
Instead of heading for the door or even the bedroom to pack her things, she rounded the table and came to stand directly in front of him. She placed one hand on his crossed arms and used the other to frame his jaw.
“What your parents did is no reflection on you. You didn’t shoot that clerk.”
“But—”
Chloe placed her fingers against his lips. “Would you think any less of me if I’d told you my mother was a drunk driver rather than probably being run over by one?”
He looked into her eyes and saw a depth of understanding he’d never seen before. “No.”
“No difference.”
Where had she been in those dark days before he’d moved in with his grandparents, when the kids at his first school had teased him mercilessly after his parents had been arrested and seemed to appear on the news every night?
In Texas with her loving family, that’s where.
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