“Why not Reno? I have family and friends there. The job is at the hospital where I used to work.” She lowered her voice. “It won’t be forever. The lease with the county is only for two years.”
Two years? It sounded like a lifetime to him.
“Reno is only an hour away,” Miranda continued to plead her case. “I’ll come back on my days off.”
How long until she grew tired of the drive? Tired of him?
“You could come to Reno.”
All this time they’d spent together, everything she’d seen, and still she acted as if there was nothing wrong with him. “I can’t.”
“Will, listen to me.” She placed herself in front of him. “Accept the town’s offer. You can get the counseling you need to conquer your PTSD in Reno while you’re training to be an EMT. I’ll find a small apartment and you can stay with me. Between that and my trips here, we’ll only be apart a few days a week.”
The plan made sense for anyone but him.
“I don’t start at the hospital till the first of February,” she said. “Let’s take a drive to Reno one day next week. Check out the EMT school. You can meet my family.”
“I can’t leave Sweetheart.”
“Is it work? I’m sure Sam will give you a day off.”
He looked straight at her. “I physically can’t leave. I haven’t for years.”
“Of course you’ve left.”
“No. Anytime I try, I get sick. Puke my guts out.”
She drew back, frowning at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was afraid I’d lose you. Same as I lost Lexie.”
“Oh, Will.” She hugged him. He was slow to return it. “That wouldn’t have happened.”
But it was happening. He was losing her, too. History was repeating itself.
“When was the last time you tried leaving town?” she asked.
“Friday.”
“And?”
“I made it an eighth of a mile out of town.”
Understanding dawned on her face. “That’s the real reason you didn’t take the town’s offer.”
“Can’t train to be an EMT if I can’t get to the school.”
“Don’t give up. There are other techniques we haven’t tried yet. Biofeedback. Meditation—”
“You’re not listening to me,” he snapped, pulling away from her.
“I am listening to you,” she snapped right back at him. “And what I’m hearing is that you won’t try.”
“I have tried.”
“Yes. Without the right kind of help and support. You need a professional therapist. You can’t conquer this on your own.”
She was turning the tables on him and he didn’t like it. “My PTSD isn’t the problem. You took a job in Reno without talking to me.”
“I have no other choice.” She sighed as if he, not her, was the one being single-minded.
“You do. You can stay here,” he said. “Live with me.”
“In your trailer?”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I’m no freeloader.”
“Then keep working at the Paydirt.”
“Nursing is too important to me to give up.”
“It would only be temporary,” he said, throwing her words back at her. “Or I can move in here with you.” The idea had come from nowhere, but he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. “We’ll stay upstairs, and Babs and Himey can have the downstairs.”
She went to the bed and sat on the edge. He thought she must have gone weak with relief. Such a simple solution, yet it would solve all her problems.
He joined her on the bed. “You can quit the Paydirt and take care of Babs and Himey full-time.” At her look of alarm, he added, “Or keep working at the Paydirt if you don’t want to let Nell go. I’m sure after the holidays you’ll find a new resident.”
“No.”
“Why not? It’s a great idea.”
She shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, I know you’re trying to help and have the sincerest of intentions. But I can’t let you move in here just to save my house and business.”
“That wouldn’t be the only reason.”
Did she not realize the extent of his feelings for her? Then again, had he ever told her how he really felt?
“If I wasn’t on the brink of foreclosure, would you be asking to move in with me?” When he hesitated, she said, “I didn’t think so.”
“Lots of couples live together because it makes financial sense. You’re being stubborn.”
“Lots of couples don’t...” She took a breath. “Don’t have one partner with a debilitating condition.”
He stiffened.
“Will, this isn’t just about me or my house or my business.” She cradled his cheek and forced his head toward her when he would have glanced away. “You won’t get better if I continue accommodating you.”
At least she hadn’t used the term “enabling.”
“I’m a lot better than I was.”
“What you’ve done is improve your coping skills. And avoided situations that trigger panic attacks. It’s not the same thing as overcoming your condition.”
“Sometimes coping is the best anyone with PTSD can do.”
“I need more.” Her voice was suddenly thick with emotion. “I need a man who will share my life completely. Who will go with me to visit my parents on their fortieth wedding anniversary or attend my brother’s college graduation. A man who will take me on a fabulous honeymoon if we were to get married. Be by my side in the hospital if we were to have a child.”
She gazed at him as if he meant the world to her. But if that were true, why wouldn’t she stay in Sweetheart with him?
Unless she was using his PTSD as an excuse to break up with him. That was what his ex-fiancée had done.
“I can’t leave. Won’t leave.”
“Not even for me?”
“Will you stay for me?”
She studied his face. “My situation is serious.”
“Mine, too.”
“Yours is treatable.”
“And yours is fixable.”
She withdrew, her features shutting down. “This isn’t a contest to see which one of us has the bigger problem.”
“Then quit making it into one.”
Intended or not, his reply obviously hit the mark. She rose from the bed.
He did, too. “Miranda, wait. I don’t think you comprehend the severity of my condition.”
“Maybe I don’t. But what I do comprehend is that you use it as a crutch. To avoid commitments.”
That unnerved him. “I was ready to marry Lexie. Willing to leave the army for her.”
“Really? Because I see a pattern here. You start getting close to someone, and boom, next thing you’re having panic attacks.”
Her aim was pretty good, too. “I could say the same about you.”
“Me?”
“By your own admission, you haven’t had a serious relationship in years.”
“Because of work.”
“It’s always because of work. You’re just as scared as I am. At least I’m willing to move in with you.”
“On your terms. That we stay in Sweetheart and both of us, not just me, lose out on what could be a great opportunity.”
“I thought Harmony House was your dream.”
“It is. And I’ll reopen it in a couple of years when the economy’s improved and the town’s recovered.”
“In the meantime—”
“In the meantime, you and I can still have a relationship.”
“Traveling back and forth between here and Reno?”
“Me working, saving money. You training to be an EMT and getting c
ounseling.”
“I can’t,” he reiterated, the memory of his last attempt at leaving still fresh in his mind.
She crossed her arms and glared at him. “You won’t. Let’s be clear on that.”
He made one last attempt. “Stay, Miranda. We can’t figure this out if you don’t.”
“I’m going to Reno. You might be content to live half a life, but I’m not.” Her conviction left no doubt. She’d made her decision. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
There was no reason for Will to remain. Wordlessly he descended the stairs and left the house. He didn’t turn around even when Mrs. Litey called his name. His name, not her son, Joseph’s.
He drove straight to the ranch, feeling oddly calm. Cruze waited for him where he’d left him, guarding the horses in the corral. He stooped to give him a pat, which turned into a hug. He was where he belonged. At the Gold Nugget. With the horses and Cruze. Not with Miranda.
As he stroked the dog’s thick fur, tolerated him licking his ear, something inside him snapped in two. Will could feel it, as if he was a giant tree split by lightning.
Miranda was leaving Sweetheart, going to Reno. He might not see her again for a long, long time.
Aware of guests milling about in the near distance, Will fled to the tack shed, making it in the nick of time. Leaning against a saddle rack, he stopped struggling...and suffered the worst panic attack of his life.
Chapter Fifteen
Christmas dinner at the Gold Nugget was a grueling affair for Will. Not because the food wasn’t good or the company congenial. He’d spent a lousy two days after his blowup with Miranda.
He still couldn’t believe she’d accepted a job in Reno and was leaving at the end of January. That she could so easily cast aside their relationship.
“Who wants dessert?” Sam’s wife, Annie, carried one pie pan and one cake platter to the table. Her mother brought up the rear, balancing a large pot of coffee. “There’s also some lime sorbet in the freezer.”
The nine guests joining Sam’s family at the table enthusiastically called out their preferences. Several complained that they didn’t have room for another bite, only to accept the plate Annie waved in front of them.
“Will?” She smiled warmly at him. “What can I get you? Some of each?”
“Thanks, but no. I’m stuffed.” He patted his stomach, which was on the empty side. He might have eaten more if each bite didn’t taste like paste.
It was the same story last night at the ranch’s open house. He’d made an appearance, for Sam’s sake, stood in the corner for an hour, tossed back a whiskey, then left. If Sam had noticed, he didn’t say. Then again, between his family and the guests, he was rather preoccupied.
“Come on,” Annie coaxed. “I know how much you like desserts.”
He did. That must be why Miranda was always offering him one. Had always offered him one. There would be no more trips to Harmony House. To see Mrs. Litey or for any other reason.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to excuse myself.” Will crawled out of the bench seat, narrowly avoiding kicking his neighbors. “Sorry,” he murmured.
“What about the sleigh ride?” one of the guests asked.
Damn. He’d forgotten.
“Heading to the barn now to hitch up.” Only when he was outside did he realize he’d run off without his coat.
There was an old one hanging in the barn. He headed there first to collect Cruze and the draft mare. To his relief he discovered a pair of gloves in one of the coat pockets.
Leading Sugar Pie to the tack shed, he tied her to the hitching post in front and looked around. He hadn’t been back since his last panic attack. Then, the shed had seemed to shrink until the walls had completely closed in on him. Today it was normal size. And yet he still felt as if he couldn’t draw a decent breath.
Reaching under the cuff of his shirtsleeve, he began snapping the rubber band on his wrist and silently chanting his mantra. Both coping mechanisms failed completely. No surprise.
Will wasn’t having a panic attack. He was suffering from a broken heart.
He loved Miranda. Had since the day of the fire evacuation when she’d come scurrying down the attic stairs. Perhaps even from his first day in Sweetheart when he’d bumped into her at the general store.
Why hadn’t he told her? It might have made a difference. Caused her to choose staying over leaving.
Wishful thinking on his part. What was it she’d said? She wanted a man who could go with her to her parents’ anniversary party. Take her on a honeymoon. Be by her side during the birth of their child.
Would Will be able to leave Sweetheart for something as important as that? Important as any of those things were?
Miranda wasn’t being unreasonable. She wanted an emotionally and mentally healthy partner. So had Will’s ex-fiancée. The difference was Miranda had claimed to want to help him through the healing process. In the end both women had run for the hills.
Will began removing the harness from where it hung on the rack, and then laid it out. First the collar, then the bridle. Last the long reins, which required a bit of straightening. Cruze lay with one front paw crossed over the other, watching patiently.
Will heard a telltale creak but didn’t look up from his task, even when Cruze’s tail thumped on the hard floor.
“You intend to hide out all Christmas Day in here?” Sam stood in the doorway.
“Only if I can convince you to drive the sleigh.”
Sam stepped inside. “Not a chance. I promised Annie I’d spend the afternoon with her and the girls.”
“Then I guess I’m done hiding out.”
“At least you admit it.”
“I’ve been admitting a lot of things to myself the last few minutes.”
“Usually works better when you tell others.” Sam’s eyes were kind, not judgmental. “I take it you and Miranda had a disagreement.”
“More like a parting of ways.”
Sam stepped closer. “I’m sorry, buddy.”
“Me, too.” Will felt the hurt anew, a giant lead weight filling his chest. “She’s leaving Sweetheart. Accepted a nursing job in Reno.”
“What about Harmony House?”
“She’s renting it out to the county. For two years.” Will explained the lease agreement. “It was that or foreclose on her mortgage.”
“I’m not trying to be insensitive,” Sam said, “but I don’t see the issue here. Go to Reno with her. I’ll find another trail boss. Better yet, accept the town’s offer for EMT training.”
Was everyone talking about him behind his back? Miranda had uttered almost those exact same words.
“I can’t leave. You know that.”
“You won’t leave, you mean.”
Again, the same words. Were they in cahoots? Will was starting to feel ganged up on. He opened his mouth only to shut it. Miranda and Sam were both right. Will had just realized as much himself ten minutes ago.
“It’s not as easy as you think,” he said after a pause.
“I don’t think it’s easy at all. But if it came down to me losing Annie or doing something difficult, nearly impossible, I’d choose Annie always. Love’s funny that way. It makes you into Superman. Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive. Able to leave Sweetheart and go to Reno.”
Will ground the heel of his palm into his forehead. He wanted to believe Sam. “I don’t know if I can.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No.” Too humiliating if he failed. “I have to do this myself.”
“See.” Sam cracked a grin. “You’re already talking like Superman.”
Will took stock of himself. Damned if he wasn’t feeling stronger. “Okay, I’ll do it. Tomorrow.”
/> “Today.”
“The guests are expecting a sleigh ride.”
“They’ll wait.”
“This may take a while.”
“Then I’ll drive the sleigh.”
“What about Annie and the girls?”
“Quit coming up with excuses and get out of here.”
Who was Will to disobey an order from his boss?
Whistling for Cruze, he hurried to his truck. He might need the calming effects of his canine pal if he hoped to accomplish the impossible. Cruze leaped onto the passenger seat when Will opened the door. The engine protested the cold weather, blowing out thick white streams of exhaust.
Once the truck was warmed, Will drove to the edge of town. He made it a full quarter mile before nausea overtook him. He stopped by the road and gave himself a few minutes to rest, during which he thought of Miranda constantly.
It did the trick. When his stomach settled, he drove another full quarter mile. Not bad. A whole lot better than before, in fact. At the first mile marker out of town, he was forced to stop again. Picturing Miranda’s face got him back on the road.
Son of a bitch! He could do this. Sam was right!
Instead of continuing, Will turned the truck around and drove back to town, straight to Miranda’s house. He had to tell her.
At her front door, he ground to a halt, his fist raised in the air. Tell her what, exactly?
I love you. I support you. I will go with you to Reno. Anywhere you want. I’m sorry I was such a jerk.
His fist came down hard on the door.
“Well, Merry Christmas to you, too,” Nell said when she answered his frantic knocking.
“Where’s Miranda?” Will started to squeeze past the plump woman.
“Not here.”
The floor seemed to buckle beneath his feet. “Where is she?”
“Reno, you silly. Visiting her family. She left yesterday.”
“She was supposed to have dinner here with the residents.” He must have chased her away. “When will she be back?”
“Tomorrow. Late morning. She has an appointment with the county. To sign that lease and finalize some other paperwork.”
He was too late.
Nell grabbed his arm. “Get yourself inside. You look as if you’re ready to collapse. Sit down and I’ll fetch you some water.”
His Christmas Sweetheart Page 18