Leave. Now. The urge came on her again.
She did better on her own, when she could hear her own thoughts, organize her priorities, gain a different perspective.
But where to go?
Removing her cell phone from her pocket, she dialed her attorney Roberto’s number, vaguely aware she’d done this before, with disastrous results.
It didn’t stop her.
Roberto answered with a brisk “Hello, Sierra.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “I’m sorry to impose on you, but I don’t have anyone else to call.”
“What is it?”
“I need a place to stay for a few days. Possibly a week.”
Chapter Fourteen
Clay could be patient when the situation called for it. Not today. He was on the verge of exploding.
Sierra had been in the casita for the last hour while he occupied himself in the house and yard with a dozen menial tasks. He’d given her the space she’d asked for, at her family’s home and here. But he wasn’t going to be shut out indefinitely.
After she’d abandoned the birthday party to sit alone on the back patio and, in his opinion, brood, he’d spoken to her father and brothers. Gavin stayed sore at Clay but did shake his hand eventually. Tensions had remained high, however, and he couldn’t wait to leave.
Wayne had significant lost ground to make up, and Clay felt sorry for the man. His first concern, however, was Sierra.
She’d received a momentous blow. But she would recover, and they’d move on. Clay was practical that way.
Crossing the yard, he opened the gate to the casita’s small courtyard, remembering the night they’d first made love and he’d jumped the gate in haste. The door was slightly ajar, an indicator that Jamie was napping. Sierra never left the door unlocked if he was awake in case he wandered outside.
Clay knocked and called softly, “Sierra.”
She didn’t answer. Was she napping, too? Probably. Emotional displays were exhausting. He stood there a moment, debated whether to knock again or return later.
“Come in.”
Apparently, she was awake.
He entered quietly so as not to disturb Jamie and came face-to-face with her packing a suitcase.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving for a while, taking Jamie with me. I need some time alone to think.”
Leaving? Was she joking? “You can’t think here? I won’t bother you if that’s what concerns you.”
She set a pair of folded slacks on top of the already full suitcase and pressed down on the clothes to compress them. “I’d rather get away from everyone and everything. Clear my head. Gain some perspective. Being here reminds me of everything. Confuses me and clouds my judgment.”
“And your judgment isn’t clouded at your dad’s?”
“I’m not staying there.”
When she’d originally said she was leaving, Clay had been mad. Now, he was scared. “Where, then?”
She glanced at Jamie sleeping in the crib.
“Sierra. Tell me.”
“My attorney’s home.”
“For how long?”
“Three or four days.”
“This is bullshit,” he spat out.
“Not so loud, you’ll wake up Jamie.”
Reining in his frustration, he continued in a lower voice, “You can’t just leave.”
Her chin jutted out. “You promised me when I moved in that I wasn’t chained to you or this place.”
“You’re not. You can go anytime. But I’m asking you to stay. We can’t work on our relationship when we’re apart.”
“This is about a lot more than our relationship.”
“We’re in the same boat, Sierra. My dad lied to me, too.”
“There’s a difference. Your dad’s motives were good—to spare his friend embarrassment. My dad’s motives were to save himself. I want to forgive him, and I will. I just need time alone and to talk to someone who doesn’t have a personal stake in this.”
“Good idea. We can see Dr. Brewster together.”
She closed the suitcase lid. “Don’t take this wrong, but you have a strong personality and strong opinions, and I’m too easily influenced. If I talk to Dr. Brewster, it will be by myself.”
“Go easier on your dad. None of us is guiltless when it comes to lying.”
“None of us perpetuated a lie for years and years.”
She might have, if he hadn’t been there for her surprise party the day she arrived home.
His face must have reflected his thoughts for she zippered the suitcase closed with an angry jerk of her hand.
“Are you punishing me for Jessica?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her denial was weak at best.
How long until she forgave him?
“Okay, stay at your attorney’s house for a few days. Just leave Jamie with me.”
“What!”
“Jamie’s head doesn’t need any clearing, and his perspective is fine.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You’ve said yourself over and over that he’s had too much disruption in his life. I don’t think we should put him through any more, especially when it isn’t necessary.”
“I’m taking him with me.”
“We have a joint-custody agreement. I want my five days starting now.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I’m pretty sure I can. If need be, we’ll let a judge decide.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “You haven’t enforced the custody agreement before.”
“That’s because you were living here.” And we were sleeping together. “Now, you’re leaving.”
“I’ll be gone a week at the most.”
“No problem. I can watch Jamie for a week.”
“Don’t do this, Clay.”
“I’m asking you the same thing.”
“I can’t stay here,” she said in a thready whisper.
“Why?”
“It’s too confining. Too crowded.”
No more confining or crowded than her attorney’s home. “That’s what you do, isn’t it? When things get tough, you run for the hills.”
“I do not!”
“Oh, come on. You turned down a full-ride scholarship and instead went to college in another state right after your mom died and the ranch started to fail. You cut off your family and me when you found out you were pregnant. You left your old job and your friends in California to come here because you couldn’t handle your anxieties and being a single mother. And now you’re slinking off to your attorney’s house after a fight with your dad.”
“It was more than a fight.”
“Grow up, Sierra. Start facing your problems instead of avoiding them.”
“How dare you criticize me!” Anger flashed in those wide eyes. “I may not cope well with my problems but at least I’m not a control freak.”
“This isn’t a matter of me trying to control you. It’s you taking my son from me. Again! If clearing your head and getting perspective is really your goal, you can do that without Jamie.”
“You know I can’t be separated from him.”
“You should have thought of that before deciding to leave.”
“I’m not the bad person here. My dad is.”
“Don’t go, Sierra. When has leaving ever worked out for you?”
“When has pushing people into doing what you want ever worked out for you? Is that why Jessica left?”
Clay recoiled as if stabbed with an iron poker.
Was Sierra right? Had he pushed Jessica into having children when she wasn’t ready? Put his own desire to start a family ahead of hers for a career?
“What about your job? You leaving that, too?”
“I’m sorry to put you in a spot.”
“We have an employment contract.”
“That allows for sick time.”
“You’re not sick.”
“Whatever.” She grabbed a tissue from the box
on the nightstand and dabbed her nose. “Short my pay.”
“The wild-horse auction is next weekend. Everyone is counting on you.”
“All the files are in order, and I left detailed notes on the desk. A temp can handle the rest.”
“Is there nothing you care about more than yourself?”
“Is there anything you care about besides yourself?” she shot back.
“You. My son. Our dads. Patching up this god-awful mess and putting our families back on track. I’m not sure how to accomplish that, but I damn well know the answer isn’t running off to my attorney’s.”
She set the suitcase on the floor. “You pegged me earlier. I fold under pressure. And whether you intend it or not, you pressure me. I’m not the kind of person who stands up for herself well.”
“You’re standing up to me.”
“Are you really going to fight me for Jamie?”
“If you walk out that door, I most certainly am.”
“What if I don’t go to my attorney’s? What if I stay at my dad’s instead?”
“I thought you said you couldn’t go there, either.”
“I’m thinking you’re right. I should face my dad. Deal with his lie.”
“Then by all means, go.” He was through pleading with her. “But leave Jamie here.”
“You can visit him every day at the ranch.”
For someone so adamant about not seeing her dad a minute ago, she was making a pretty quick turnaround.
“Do you really need space or do you simply want to get away from me?”
She closed her eyes. “I don’t know anymore.”
Nothing she’d said until now hurt worse than that. “We have a custody agreement, and we’re going to stick to it.”
“It feels like you’re the one punishing me.” She pressed a hand to her chest, rubbed it as if her heart ached. “Why don’t you just admit it? You don’t trust me.”
“Should I? You did hide my son from me.”
“And you’ve hidden things from me, too. Pretty recently, in fact.”
“I told you, I was trying to avoid an argument.”
“Well, big surprise. We’re arguing.”
Clay lost his temper, aware he was exhibiting the very stereotypical control-freak trait she’d accused him of. “I’ve bent over backward for you. The casita. The job. Letting you take Jamie with you to the office. The counseling sessions. I’ve given a hundred and ten percent.”
“I’ve given, too. I agreed to move in with you for Jamie’s sake and our relationship. And I’ve been a damn good employee.”
“Good employees don’t quit with no notice.”
“I’ll be back.”
“Permanently or to pick up Jamie?”
“That’s not fair.”
Clay expelled a harsh breath. “I can’t live every day wondering if you’ll disappear because my preference to eat dinner at six is too controlling.”
“I’m not that extreme.”
“I’ve been committed to you and Jamie since the day you returned. I wish you could say the same.”
“A short breather to reevaluate and take stock of the situation isn’t a lack of commitment.”
Jamie woke up and started to cry. Incredibly, he’d slept through the entire argument.
Sierra and Clay started toward him and bottlenecked at the foot of the crib. They stared at each other in stormy silence for several seconds, neither giving an inch.
Finally, Clay let her pass. Apparently his dad did raise him to be a gentleman.
Sierra lifted Jamie into her arms. The second he saw Clay, he reached for him, his face puffy and mottled from sleep.
“Hey, there, pal.”
“Da, da, da, da.”
Sierra’s features caved, her pain striking him square in the gut.
In one afternoon she’d had her entire belief system felled. That would send even the strongest individual retreating to lick their wounds. He was about to tell her to take Jamie with her when she abruptly handed him to Clay.
“All this fighting is getting us nowhere.”
He went weak with relief. She’d changed her mind. They were going to solve their problems and everything would go back to the way it was.
“I agree,” he said. “Let’s not talk anymore tonight. We’ll have some dinner, take Jamie on a walk.”
“You can. I won’t be here.” She went to the bed and grabbed her suitcase. “We’ll start with two days, then go to five. I’ll see you Monday evening when I pick up Jamie. Or you can drop him off at Dad’s, whichever’s more convenient for you.”
Clay held Jamie close, like a shield, words escaping him.
Of all the times for her to spontaneously overcome her separation anxieties.
“I love you, honey bun.” She gave Jamie a desperate hug and kiss on the cheek. Then, looking straight ahead, marched out the door, the only sign of her distress a slight wobble in her gait.
She was either the bravest person Clay knew or the biggest coward.
What about him?
Right this moment, he was alone.
“Ma, ma, ma.” Jamie poked Clay on the side of the head.
He could imagine his son saying, “Hey, idiot. You just let the woman we love leave.”
And he’d be right.
* * *
THE WILD-HORSE AUCTION was starting in—Sierra glanced at her watch—two hours.
Unable to completely walk away from the job, she’d handled several last-minute tasks from home—her father’s home—and spoken daily on the phone with the temp Clay had hired. It wasn’t the same.
She could see the auction unfolding in her mind’s eye.
The ranch hands grooming and exercising the mustangs under her brothers’ careful supervision so they would look their best and behave well. The foreman and his crew grading the dirt and insuring the arena was in tip-top condition, the bleachers swept, the pens tidy and the grounds spotless.
Any minute, the auctioneer and his assistant would arrive and set up in the announcer’s booth. Dallas was probably arranging her photographer’s table and inventorying her supplies. The media would arrive soon. One local TV station had agreed to send a reporter and camera operator and a small local paper had promised coverage.
The only individual not showing up was the head cashier.
Her.
Sierra had recruited Sage to take over rather than simply assist, as was the original plan. Cashiering wasn’t complicated, and there were the notes Sierra had left. Sage would have no trouble.
Sierra moped. She was a good employee, not the kind who abandoned ship in the middle of a big event.
Yet she’d done exactly that. Left her job, her son and Clay.
Talk about selfish.
She missed them. All of them. Clay, too.
Those last weeks together were the happiest she’d had since their affair. If only he’d given her those few days she needed to think, trusted her enough not to take off with Jamie, she’d be with him now.
No sooner had she shown up on her father’s doorstep a week ago than the two of them had talked. Unresolved issues remained, but they were making headway. With Gavin and Ethan as well. Not that Ethan had been upset with her. Gavin—that was a different story. He was disappointed she wasn’t working the auction. After several awkward meals, they’d cleared the air enough to eat companionably if not noisily and rowdily like before.
Sierra hadn’t realized how similar she and her father were—they both tended to avoid their problems. Where they differed was that she ran while her father shut down completely.
Checking her watch again, she sighed. She should be at the auction.
After all the hurt she’d caused her family, all the assistance they’d given her, she owed them not to bail at the last hour. In this valley, mustangs were synonymous with the Powell name and the plight of wild horses was close to their hearts, a vital part of their personal history to pass down to their children and grandchildren. To Jamie.
He had Jamie, would for another four days as per their parenting schedule.
She hadn’t forgotten about her son. Heaven forbid. But she didn’t obsess about him when he wasn’t with her. Not anymore. The breakup with Clay—she’d stopped kidding herself and calling it “time away”—had had one positive impact on her. She’d mostly gotten over her separation anxiety. There were moments, but then she’d remind herself Clay was a good father and wouldn’t let anything happen to Jamie.
She wished he’d taken the same tender care of her love for him.
Sierra didn’t regret her decision. It really was for the best, as she kept telling herself. Clay must agree. He didn’t act as though he wanted a reconciliation when they met to hand over Jamie.
God, that sounded awful. Their son wasn’t a borrowed tool to be exchanged when the other person was done using it.
She wondered if Clay had Jamie with him at the auction or if he’d hired Cassie to babysit. No, her niece would be with her fellow equestrian drill team members selling refreshments at the concession stand.
Did the drill team need more ice? Sierra could buy some and take it over. She’d be welcomed.
What message would that send Clay? She’d been wrong? She was sorry? She wanted to try again? She wasn’t a quitter and finished the jobs she started?
Apparently she was less dedicated to relationships than jobs.
She’d been so scared after seeing Jessica in the diner and discovering Clay had met with her, terrified when her father’s duplicity was revealed. It was too much like looking at her own reflection.
Sierra had once viewed honesty as fluid, able to change shape depending on the individual’s needs.
It was an excuse she’d used to justify her own actions.
The last few weeks had taught her much.
What to do with her new education?
She tackled the laundry in an attempt to stop dwelling on the auction and Clay. In her bedroom—the bedroom that would belong to Gavin and Sage’s baby once he or she was born—she grabbed the laundry bag.
Finding a new place to live and a new job were a priority, but she’d been dragging her feet, even turning down a second, in-person, interview with the company that had called. When she’d mentioned her lack of motivation to Dr. Brewster, the counselor had turned the tables on Sierra by posing questions like “Why do you think you’re procrastinating?” and “How do you feel about quitting your job?”
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