by Ann Major
“What about me?”
“We weren’t really friends, now were we?”
“I always liked you,” he whispered.
“You never brought me here…the way you brought all the rest of your real friends.”
“My mother and dad lived here then.”
“See what I mean. I was always Jesse Ray Gray’s daughter, so you were ashamed of me.”
His face darkened. “With my mother, it was difficult. She was always so critical, and she had about a hundred rules she lived by. Maybe I wasn’t ready to tell her about you. About us. Maybe I was too afraid she’d spoil it, or drive you away. Maybe I didn’t realize how you’d see it and feel about it.” He paused. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Look, I don’t want to quarrel about the past. We have our own lives now, don’t we? Let’s just ride and enjoy what’s left of the afternoon.”
She rose from the ground and headed toward the barn in silence with the dog racing circles around her.
“If coming here was so important to you, you could have asked me to show you the house,” he said defensively behind her.
Since she didn’t want to argue, she just kept silent.
Except for Bendi’s toenails scraping the concrete inside the barn as he trotted happily beside her and the sounds of horses munching grain and corn in their stalls, the shadowy barn was silent. In the tack room, saddles, bridles and halters hung from whitewashed walls. Everything—the sink, the desk that held a telephone, the floor—was immaculate.
The two horses that Cole had ordered to be saddled nickered as he opened the first stall door. Horseshoes rang on the concrete as he took the reins of a lovely palomino mare with brown eyes and led her out.
“Meet Lily. She’s gentle and likes everybody.”
“She’s lovely.”
At the compliments, Lily lowered her golden head and let Maddie stroke her.
“Good girl.” Maddie held out the apple she’d brought and enjoyed the feel of the mare’s lips and nose as she eagerly took a bite.
Horses—they’d been her salvation as a girl. If it hadn’t been for horses and Miss Jennie, where would she be now? Maybe in some shabby trailer enduring some awful man’s abuse. Or worse, abusing her own child.
Cole opened another stall and led out a tall bay gelding. “And this is Raider. He and I go way back. He’s half Arab and half quarter horse and pretty challenging to ride.”
“In what way?”
“He doesn’t like white rocks. And he insists on bossing all the other horses. He thinks he should decide which hay pile the horses can eat, and if they don’t agree, he lays his ears back and charges them.”
“Oh, dear.” She began to stroke him. “A big boy who doesn’t play well with others. In my line of work I meet a lot of people with your problem.”
“Lily is so agreeable that he isn’t threatened, so he doesn’t get up to many of his bad tricks when he’s around her.”
Outside, the wind rustled in the trees. Raider stomped, snorted and tossed his head, eagerly anticipating their ride.
Cole gave Maddie another moment to stroke and talk to Lily. Then they mounted and headed for the narrow, shady trail that wound through the brush. “I keep the trail groomed in the summers, just for riding,” Cole said.
“Do you ride often?” she asked wistfully, unable to imagine such a luxury.
“I’ve been away a lot overseeing my rigs and haven’t had time when I’m here, so getting out today will be fun, especially since you’ll be with me.” His words, warm and seductive, sang along her nerve edges.
Don’t say things like that. Don’t make me long for what I can never have.
“Riding will be a special treat for me, too. As a single mom, I don’t take off much time for myself.”
The sky was a deep blue, and the clouds against the horizon looked as soft as huge tufts of cotton. The light breeze curling the grasses made the late afternoon cooler than expected. Maddie, who rode behind Cole, found herself enjoying the ride more than she’d enjoyed anything besides Noah in years.
He set off on a gallop. Laughing aloud, she raced after him across one of his endless pastures with her hair streaming behind her. Her blood tingling from the thrill of it, she felt like a girl again with the big animal beneath her. When Cole turned and their eyes met, excitement charged through her in a white-hot jolt. Later, when he pulled up on his reins and headed in the direction of the river, she followed.
“The ground is not firm enough here to gallop,” he said as he waited for her to come alongside him.
She wasn’t surprised when Cole chose the pool where he’d discovered her earlier that day as their destination to water their horses and picnic.
When Cole helped her dismount, she stood beside Lily, stroking the horse, pretending she felt as calm as the mare, who dipped her mouth into the pool and drank through golden lips.
Cole opened a cold beer can and offered it to Maddie. When she accepted it, he popped the top off a tonic water and lifted it to his sculpted mouth. Studying his dark, angular face, especially his mouth, and the reflections of the trees and sky in the green water, she fought to pretend she felt nothing for him. But her blood was buzzing even before she drank deeply.
“So, who are you now, Maddie Gray?” he whispered as he led her to a limestone rock that served as a bench. “Now that you’re all grown up and educated? What have you made of yourself?”
“My story is probably pretty ordinary.”
“Not to me.”
“I don’t have your lineage of famous pioneer Texans. I was just a child here, going hungry on occasion and feeling trapped in that awful trailer with Mother when she was there. And when she wasn’t, I was always too scared of the neighbors in the next trailer to play outside.”
He frowned as if he genuinely empathized with the child she’d been. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
“You asked,” she said, touched by his response. She’d never talked about these things with him before. Or with Greg, she thought. Greg knew next to nothing about her past, and she didn’t want him to. For some reason that she didn’t understand, she felt like talking to Cole this afternoon. Since they both needed closure, maybe telling him as much of the truth as she dared would help.
“Yes. Maybe it’s time I did talk about it. Mother didn’t come home lots of nights—sometimes she’d be gone several nights in a row. Out on dates, I suppose. Dates that lasted all night…and sometimes several days. I would hide in the closet even though I was scared of the dark.”
“Did you ever tell a teacher that you were so scared you locked yourself in a dark closet?”
“Only Miss Jennie, when I was in high school. She took me home with her one afternoon. Everything was so clean and bright and nice in her house, and she was so gentle and kind that I started to cry because I wanted to live in a place like hers, with no smudges on the walls, a place with tablecloths and clean sheets on the beds, a place where I felt safe and where people were kind. Mother, you see, always screamed and cursed at me. Most people in Yella treated me like they hated me, too, though not Liam or Lizzie, who were always nice to me. So, I never imagined that I might achieve a decent kind of life.
“But Miss Jennie gave me hope. Until I started spending afternoons at her house in high school, my only friends had been horses.”
“What was the name of your first horse pal?”
“Remember how our trailer was next to Jasper Bower’s property? Well, Mr. Bower noticed that I used to bring his two horses apples after school. He was the one who gave me my first job mucking stalls in exchange for riding lessons. He let me take care of Pico and his other horses and gave me a good reference and that led to other jobs. I loved being in barns and working with horses, but until Miss Jennie saw how lost I was and befriended me, the human world mostly seemed big and unfriendly. And I felt helpless to ever change anything. She made me realize that if I didn’t want to be despised my whole life, I couldn’t hide out i
n barns. It was up to me to make something of myself. She’d been poor, too, you see, and she told me how she’d changed her life. She set out a very specific path to follow, with steps and options. We made a plan for what I’d do after graduation. I swore that if I ever succeeded, I wouldn’t forget that there were other little girls like me who didn’t have anyone to turn to, and that I’d help them…just like she helped me.”
“And? Have you?”
“I try so hard. I try every day. I got my bachelor’s degree in sociology and psychology so I could work at the same homeless shelter that took me in when I left Yella. Now, on cold days, I have coats to give shivering children and diapers for wet, dirty babies and bus tokens for poor mothers who need transportation to get to work. I run a day care for children and a shelter for women and children. And one for disabled men, as well. We feed lunch to three hundred people a day. I feel like the shelter I work for makes a difference.”
“You make the difference.” His gaze was so intense with interest and admiration, it caused a warm rush of pleasure and pride to swamp her.
“Working with these people requires many of the same skill sets I acquired training horses. Only you’re dealing with people. With rules, patience, determination, compassion and a plan, you can sometimes work miracles.” She paused. “When Noah’s older, I need to go back to school for my master’s so I can do more. But right now I need to be with him as much as I can. Children grow up fast. You don’t want to waste a moment.”
“If I had a son I’d feel the same way.”
Her head jerked. When her eyes met his, his warm, thoughtful gaze unnerved her.
“I’m sure you would,” she whispered haltingly.
For a second or two she was so connected to him she felt she had to tell him about Noah—because it was the right thing to do. She caught a panicky breath. Thankfully, he looked away, and in doing so, broke the spell. Squeezing herself, she let out a sigh. She had to be careful. Confiding in him had made her feel closer to him, and that closeness was dangerous.
As the sun turned golden-red and the sky blazed, he continued asking her questions. So eager was she to answer them she barely noticed the lengthening shadows as the sun sank lower.
After she finished her second beer, he unpacked their sandwiches and chips, which were delicious. Since they were there, she ate too many cookies, which he teased her about after she lamented having done so.
“Lighten up on yourself,” he said. “It’s easy to know what you should eat, but not always so easy to eat what you should. Besides, what would the world be coming to if Yella’s number one bad girl lived up to her virtuous ideals one hundred percent of the time?”
As she laughed, she found it amazing and scary that she could feel so easy opening up to him. It was as if he were a true friend of the heart, instead of what he really was to her—the rich college boy who’d once lusted for her body and the powerful man who could threaten her future if he discovered her secret.
“Do you ever save any adults?”
“A few. We are connected to all the agencies in town that can help them with their special problems. If you’re a person who’s down and out, and you want to change, we can teach you how to get your medications, how to fill out a job application or an application for an apartment. But a person has to be fiercely determined to succeed. There are so many basic skills functioning adults require…like money management and taking care of health issues.”
In his turn, Cole talked about his oil and gas company and his ranch. She got a little lost when he tried to explain a modern drilling technique called hydraulic fracturing. Fracking, he explained, involved using pressurized water, sand and chemicals to extract more gas and oil from rock formations than had previously been possible. “But I’m not saving lives,” he said. “I’m just making money.”
“The modern world can’t survive without energy. You saved the ranch, your family’s heritage.”
“There’s that.” He smiled. “Hey, the sun’s going down fast. We better ride back to the house before it gets totally dark.”
When he helped her remount Lily, her spirits rocketed at his nearness and his casual touch. As she stared down at his handsome face, which was half in shadow, she felt her stomach flutter. His intent gaze lingered on her, as well, increasing her nervousness. He didn’t have to touch her to be dangerous.
For years, she’d been crushed by loneliness and the hard work required to pull herself up from nothing. Even now that she’d found Greg, she often felt lonely. Why did she never feel as connected to Greg as she felt right now to Cole?
How can you think that when you know Greg wants you as a person and Cole wants you for only one thing?
Instead of feeling outrage over Cole’s lust for her, a delicious shiver of excitement coursed through her. Was she as shameless as her mother?
She had to stop this. She had to get back to his house and find her letters and go.
Not long after they remounted and headed back to his home, a full moon rose, painting the landscape with shimmering silver. Beside Cole, her blood began to pulse in ever-deepening awareness of him. When they reached the barn, which loomed in the dark, and he lifted her down, she was already so hot for him that she couldn’t prevent herself from trembling when her body slid briefly against his.
No sooner were her feet on the ground than she sprang free of him.
Not that she felt much safer standing several feet away. How could she when all she wanted was for him to wrap her in his arms again and kiss her?
Breathing hard, he stared down at her so hungrily her own mouth watered. “You said not to touch you.”
“Yes….”
“Then don’t look at me like that.”
When she didn’t stop, he closed his eyes on a groan. His massive chest swelled, and he rasped in a harsh breath. “We’d better put the horses up,” he said, his voice biting as he heaved out another violent breath.
For no reason at all she was too shy and tongue-tied to utter a coherent thought.
She should never have come out with him today or talked to him so openly, baring her soul, so to speak. Maybe then she wouldn’t have reawakened all those dangerous yearnings and unrealistic hopes that had haunted her for years. She’d always wanted more from him—so much more than he’d ever been able to give to a girl he’d considered beneath him.
She knew too well that theirs was an impossible relationship.
But tonight he’d brought her to his house, talked to her about his family and work, listened to her with respect.
None of that should matter. She should stick to her decision and marry Greg and have nothing more to do with Cole.
But that was a difficult plan when Cole made her feel so alive.
Six
Since her heart was in shreds just from spending a pleasant evening with Cole, she wished she could forget her letters and demand that he drive her home. But when Cole turned on the lights in the barn and neither Joe nor a groom appeared, the smell of hay and the soft nickering of the horses seduced her into offering to help him put both horses to bed.
Together they removed the saddles and bridles and carried them to the tack room. Together they hosed down the horses, rubbing their long, narrow faces with big puffy sponges, squeezing the sponges repeatedly so that the water ran down their great bodies and legs and gurgled in the drain.
“I’ve missed working with horses,” she said. “Horses don’t lie to you, so they don’t break your heart as often as people do.”
His eyes studied her face for a long moment. He’d hurt her, made her feel cheap and unimportant to him. Maybe he hadn’t done it deliberately, but he’d hurt her just the same. For six long years she’d carried those scars.
“I’m sorry you had such a rough start in life. But you’ve certainly risen above it.”
She smiled warily as he turned back to Lily, but the work was a pleasant distraction, causing her to relax in Cole’s company. All sensual tension vanished. She simply enj
oyed being with him and his horses. Soon they were laughing and talking easily.
“Would you like a cup of coffee before I drive you home?” he asked after he secured Raider in his stall.
She wondered if he was merely being polite, but his gaze was so intense, she couldn’t resist.
“I’d love one,” she lied, even though she never drank the bitter stuff.
Side by side they walked down the road to his house in the moonlight, each so wrapped up in their lighthearted banter they failed to see the Lincoln parked in the shadows of the huge live oak beside his house. He opened the front door as they were laughing at a joke he’d made.
“John, is that you—at last?” His mother’s biting tone cut Maddie to the quick.
“Mother?”
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever come home.”
“You should have called before coming if you don’t like being inconvenienced.”
“I did call. Your phone was off, or you didn’t bother to answer.”
Black silk rustled as his tall, elegantly slim mother stood up. Her flawless features held no warmth. She kept her thin nose high and angled away from Maddie.
“You should have let me know you were coming home, dear,” she said. “I would have had Angelica make dinner.”
“I had other plans. You remember Maddie Gray, don’t you?”
His mother’s lips pursed as her icy stare flicked briefly to Maddie. “Vaguely,” she lied in a voice that made Maddie feel small.
“Hello,” Maddie said.
His mother’s nose arched higher. “I’d prefer to talk to my son in private.”
Feeling like a child unjustly put into time-out, Maddie nodded. Her first impulse was to leave, but she couldn’t since Cole had driven her here. Then she remembered her letters. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity to search for them. “Cole, why don’t I wait in your office?” Maddie said.
“Because the den is larger and much more comfortable,” he replied.
“I’ll be just fine in there. You and your mother should take the den.” Before he could object, she hurried toward his office.