“I wanted to call you,” Alison whispered in aside. “I also didn’t want to involve myself.”
Taylor tried to assuage her with a nod of understanding. “How is he, Alison? It’s not like him to just close down the gallery and abandon his daily routine.”
“He’s getting by,” she replied. She ceased long enough to make small-talk with a customer, maintaining a friendly ease as she tabulated the purchases. Taylor could see that she had a knack for making every person who shopped there feel special, whether they were there for repeat business or simply a tourist passing through. With business concluded for the moment, she continued in a soft voice. “He’s been spending most of his time with Mark. Look for one and you’ll usually find the other. I guess they’ve been doing a little work on the house, but mostly they’re playing cowboy. A role they are both good at,” she finished with a wink.
“I’ve thought about calling.”
Alison nodded in acceptance of that. “That’s another thing Chandler has in common with both CJ and Mark—they can engage the silent treatment like no other man you will ever meet. It may be their finest weapon.”
“Kind of makes you wonder how any of them ever got a woman,” she jested.
Alison laughed a little too loud, startling her patrons. “Genetics allowed them to be born better looking than they deserved.” A wink accompanied her smirk. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I’m about ninety-five percent certain Chandler will be in Monday morning. If you can resist the urge to text or call, you’d be able to meet face-to-face.”
“I don’t know…”
“Give yourself the weekend to think about it. I may come in a few minutes late just to ensure your privacy. That’ll be our little secret.”
“Of course,” Taylor answered conspiratorially. “It’ll take me that long to work up the nerve.”
“I don’t think you’ll be the only one,” she replied.
Taylor felt a sense of relief as she headed home, thinking about the things she needed to tell him Monday morning. She needed to come clean about so much, make sure he understood her feelings—and if that didn’t work, maybe she could stick her hand inside his shirt and play his favorite hand of cards. She parked and stepped into the house quietly, not wanting a confrontation or debriefing with her mother at that moment. She found Liam watching television attentively with Alice, his lips forming a smile but making no move to open.
“Mom, I can’t believe you’ve got him watching your story, too.”
“Shh!” she whispered. “The doctor is talking.”
Taylor moved into the room and lowered her face close to Liam’s. “This airs every weekday in the hospital but I’m always too busy to watch. Looks like Raven is pregnant.”
They came to a commercial break. “Mom, is there any chance she’s carrying Mitch’s baby?”
“An outside chance,” Alice explained with all the alacrity of someone versed in sports betting. “Would you like to make another bet?”
“Oh, no,” Taylor quickly rejoined. “I’ve seen this one before. Raven’s sister is also pregnant, some interloper does a baby swap, a paternity test shows the swapped babies have the wrong DNA when there was no hanky-panky going on and it blows the couples all to hell. Good drama, but a little more than I’m interested in digesting right now.”
Alice smiled back at her. “Suit yourself.”
Liam glanced at her a touch more sympathetically. “Rough day?”
“I’ve had worse,” she whispered. “I’m going to take a nap. I really want to mentally prepare myself for next week.”
“Rest as much as you’re able. I’ll keep your mom company.”
“Thank you,” she said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You are a lifesaver.”
He shook his head in a self-effacing manner. “Unless I can get you smiling again, and at the mention of Chandler’s name, I won’t think that way about myself.”
Taylor pulled her lips into a small frown. “Easier said than done.”
Chapter 28
He still wasn’t sure about his course of action. He told himself that he would’ve felt more confident skiing away from an avalanche. Nevertheless, and in spite of his better judgment, he requested this meeting with no confirmation she would actually come. His text message to her had been short and to the point.
“Monday morning, my office—will you meet me?” And her reply had been equally succinct.
“Yes.”
He had no way to know she’d planned to be there all along, with or without his invitation. When she entered his office door, he stood, his body ramrod-straight, his eyes expectant and his lips open with the ghost of a question.
“I used my key,” she informed him. The chestnut hair was swept over her head, framing the right side of her face. He recognized the yellow-checked shirt as one he’d insisted she buy while they were shopping. She took his breath away, and it took every ounce of strength in him to not wrap her up in a bracing hug. Instead he waited for her to take the seat closest to him.
“It’s fine,” he assured her as he sat down. “I didn’t want to open this morning until I had a chance to see you.” He cleared his throat uneasily. “How’ve you been?”
“Lost without you,” she freely admitted. “It’s been interesting. Mom’s roped Liam into watching TV with her every day. I think he’s working remotely, too, even though he’s on vacation.”
“He’s a good guy,” Chandler observed.
“He is.”
“Taylor…”
She lifted a hand to quiet him. “Chandler, I’ve been dishonest with you.” His heart fell at the utterance of those words. “I should have been upfront but I guess it was too chicken.”
“Don’t be hard on yourself,” he said, unclenching his jaw. “You’ve a pretty tough girl.”
Her body stiffened in anticipation of the disclosure. “I overheard you tell your brother that you didn’t want to marry me out of a sense of obligation. I wasn’t eavesdropping—I respect you too much to do that—but I heard it by accident.”
“How much did you hear?”
“That was the extent of it,” she promised, placing a hand to her chest for emphasis. “I felt guilty for hearing that much.”
His jaw tightened again. “That’s the problem with eavesdropping,” he said ruefully. “You miss out on the rest of the conversation.” His gaze turned baleful. “How many times did we make love after that? How many nights did you lay in my arms and tell me your most private thoughts? And I did the same damned thing…” He looked away from her, fixing his eyes to a spot on the floor. “What is this about, Taylor? Trying to assuage your guilt? Trying to let me down easy? Done.” He stared into her eyes, wishing he could turn the cold green flecks warm again. “I’ve got a pretty thick skin. I love my brother, but growing up with him, I had to develop one pretty fast. It won’t hurt that much. I have prior experience.”
She gave him a tight frown. “This sounds disturbingly like a job interview.” She wove her fingers together nervously and glanced down at her thumbs. “I felt you pulling away from me, Chandler. I think you were, and still are, too scared of your own feelings. That’s fine. There are no easy answers in life.” She looked up and met his eyes. “And I could live happily with you for a hundred years if that was all of it. But I don’t want to just be with you because you have some misguided ideas about love. I’m going to be flat-out honest with you, lay all of my cards on the table. I’d love to be a part of your family. I have a deep, abiding affection for everyone—even your brother—but I won’t make you unhappy just to make myself a part of your life.” She stood to leave, and was at the door when his voice stopped her.
“Taylor, if this is the end…” She turned and their gazes locked. “…then I have to tell you the truth. I am obligated to love you. I’m obligated because my heart tells me to. If that’s not good enough for you, or if I’ve been too much of a jerk, I understand if you don’t want this to continue. If you still want a job here, it�
��s yours. You don’t have to worry about seeing me with another woman.” She watched his blue eyes grow wet and sad. “It’s going to take me a very long time to get over you.”
Her face was unreadable, her expression impassive. He couldn’t tell if she was about to throttle him, kiss him, or burst into tears. Before any of the above could take place, she turned and closed the door behind her with a decisive thud. His heart fell to the floor, where it lay in a million pieces, irreparable for all time. He cursed himself for being so stupid. He cursed Mark for pouring his bourbon down the drain. And he cursed fate most of all, for having played such a cruel trick with his heart.
***
Taylor ambled through the house like a zombie, following the sound of his voice. It was a true miracle she’d made it home alive. She’d driven there in a haze of tears and regret, cursing herself the whole way for being such a damned fool. “Why?” she had moaned gutturally. “Why did I leave him?” She could see the forgiveness in his eyes, but then he’d flipped it off as easily as a light switch. He’d never had a poker face, and his expression betrayed everything in his head, but she was too stubborn and proud to throw her arms around his neck and say, “I forgive you—now forgive me for being a fool.” Now she found Liam sitting alone in the kitchen, talking into his phone.
“Sounds great. I’ll see you then.” He hit a button and returned the phone to his shirt pocket, seemingly startled when he noted her presence. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry I interrupted you.”
He shook it off. “You didn’t. I was just talking with Anne.”
“Is that her?” Taylor inquired, forgetting her own misery for a moment. “The girl you love.”
She watched him blush unexpectedly, his face and neck turning red. “Maybe. We’ll see. Anyway, I just wanted to let her know I’d be coming home sometime after the holiday.”
“You must be enjoying yourself here.”
He nodded. “Your mom is a lot of fun to be around. She’s out with some friends, by the way, discussing church stuff. Anyway, this trip has also been cathartic. I could finally put some of my failings into perspective, knowing that I did the best I could by you and Riley.”
“If only it were that easy for me,” she replied.
His eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly. “Uh-oh. Pull up a chair and tell me about it.”
“I’d rather not.”
“I’ll just keep badgering you,” he rejoined. “And if that doesn’t work, Miss Alice could be apprised of the situation.”
“No!” she answered sharply. “She already thinks I’m a doofus for spending this long away from Chandler. You think I want her knowing we’ve ended things?”
Worry lines formed around his eyes and mouth. “I hope you’re not serious.”
“I don’t know,” she answered, throwing her hands up in frustration. “We left things ambiguous.”
“The Labor Day Rodeo is coming up,” he reminded her. “Aren’t you supposed to be there, cheering him on?”
Taylor rested her head between both hands and sighed. “I’m probably the last person he’d want to see there. The very last.”
***
“Pull.”
Mark glanced at him warily from his perch. Chandler was on the back of a horse—not his, but a younger mount—clenching his rope and his teeth in anger, frustration, and regret. The day’s events, more or less a secret Chandler was keeping—somewhere in his stomach, from the looks of things—flashed across his eyes like a warning sign. Mark was reluctant to act. He was reluctant to help. He was scared to do nothing, though.
“Pull, dammit, pull! And don’t give me any lip.”
Mark grudgingly opened the gate and watched Chandler take off after the calf. He drew close, flung himself to the ground, and stumbled hard when his boot got hung momentarily in the stirrup. Calf and horse both ran away, leaving a cursing, dirty cowboy in their dusty wake.
“Dammit,” he screamed through gritted teeth. Mark had leapt off the fence and was at his side in a matter of seconds. He grabbed Chandler by the wrist and yanked him to his feet.
“Dust yourself off,” he said. “It happens.”
“Not to me,” he practically spat back. “I have to win this year.”
“And what’s special about this year?”
“It’s my best chance to win,” he argued, wiping the dirt from his hat and replacing it atop his head. “It’s my only chance to…”
Mark watched worriedly as his friend’s words trailed off. “Chance to do what? Prove you’re a man? Prove you can live without her? Prove you’re a stupid fool who’s going to die without the woman you love?”
“Screw you, Mark. I could have any of a hundred women if I put my mind to it.”
“But you won’t put your mind to it,” Mark challenged him, “because you don’t want another woman. You want her.” He stared at Chandler in profile. “That’s why I’ve hardly ever seen you interested in dating. The woman you wanted, you couldn’t have. And now that you can have her, you don’t want her. You need a good ass-kicking.”
“I’m warning you, Mark,” he said. His voice came out so non-threatening, absent of malice, that it was almost a joke. “Keep your nose out of this.”
He lifted his hands in defeat. “Go get your horse, cowboy. I’ve got a calf to round up.” They resumed their practice, Mark watching in reticence as Chandler tied the calf up time and time again. There was nothing cruel in his methods, but it was there in his gaze as he worked efficiently, counting to the silent clock in his head. Chandler could keep time as good as any stopwatch. Mark shook his head and frowned. He suddenly wished he knew how to meddle, bend things to his will—but he wasn’t Chandler.
He was happy.
***
Several days later—they all ran together on the ranch—Mark was in the tack room, polishing his saddle, when one of the younger ranch hands knocked against the door jamb.
“Hunter,” he said, looking up. “What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Jasper, there’s a lady here to see you.”
Mark smiled. “Mr. Jasper is my father. It’s okay if you want to use my first name.”
“Sorry, Mark,” he said nervously.
“Spill it,” he commanded gently.
“It’s Chandler’s girlfriend.”
“Oh,” Mark replied. “Send her in. And, thank you, Hunter.”
“You’re welcome, sir.” After a brief exchange, he saw her through the doorway. She looked about as forlorn as her other half, only she wore it a little better. Grit shone through in her movements.
“I hope I’m not interrupting you.”
Mark tossed his rag aside and shook his head. “Not at all. I’m not sure how much of a help I can be to you, though. I hope you don’t expect me to act as a go-between.”
“No,” she replied briskly. “It’s not that.” She anxiously pushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. “I’m going to try for honesty here. No one is closer to Chandler than you are, Mark. Not even his siblings can read his emotions and thoughts like you can. I’m sure he knows things about you that even Christa doesn’t.”
Mark nodded somewhat reluctantly. “Yes. Chandler and I have a lot in common. We share a similar world-view, we like a lot of the same activities. I can count him not just as my friend but also my brother. That’s a great thing to have.” He cleared his throat. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I spent a lot of years resenting him. Everything came so easy to Chandler—school, friends, even that damned growth spurt.”
“You were always better at ranching,” she conjectured.
“Maybe,” he answered with a wink. “Anyway, he’s also this skilled renaissance man, able to paint or draw a masterpiece at the drop of a hat. Hell, I once saw him sculpt a vase out of raw clay. The art of love, though—that’s never come easy to him, until you were involved.”
She considered that briefly. “If you could describe Chandler in one word, what would it be?”
“Loyal,” Mark replied before she’d finished her question. “Which makes him sound like a dog, I guess. Man’s best friend.” He laughed at the allegory he’d provided. “Chandler is incredibly loyal to his family and friends. He looks at you with tunnel vision, Taylor. You might as well be the only other woman on this earth. You’re certainly the only woman for him.”
“Thank you for your honesty,” she said, wondering if she should shake his hand or something else. That all felt too formal, though. They were in a barn, full of hay, horses, and the accompanying smells.
“You’re welcome,” he said with another nod. “I don’t resent Chandler anymore. I have a beautiful woman who loves me without question, and two of the finest boys a man could ever sire.” Masculine pride was evident in the softening of his face. “I don’t have to tell you how special it is to be a parent.” She nodded in agreement. “I’d like Chandler to be happy.”
“I’d like that, too.”
“You’re just not sure how to do it.”
“Exactly.”
Mark took in a deep breath. “He’s spending all of his free time out here, preparing for the rodeo.” He stared at her with unveiled curiosity. “You’re planning to be there?”
“Yes.”
He hooked an arm upward and scratched the back of his head. “Town’s busy, but I think I can finagle it. Chase always reserves the biggest table for us at The Barbeque House, and we stuff ourselves silly as a reward for working so hard. If I make sure he heads home directly from the celebratory meal, can I count on you to be waiting there on his front porch, looking like his dream come true?”
Taylor laughed unevenly. “Tall order, but I’ll see what I can do.” She turned to go before Mark’s voice stopped her. She glanced back over her shoulder and met his eyes.
“Don’t let him talk you out of loving him. If the shoe was on the other foot, I know he couldn’t make that decision.” She nodded and left. When Mark knew she was out of earshot, he picked up his phone and dialed. “Chandler,” he said without pause, “I’m going to put our plan into action, and I want no lip from you.”
The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga) Page 31