Chapter Twenty-Five

Hannah…

My eyes pop open as a voice calls out, “Roarke! Roarke!”

“Ruth,” I whisper and sit up straight, as does Roarke, sunlight trying to burn my eyeballs from my head through the parted curtain.

Ruth’s voice lifts in the air again. “Roarke!”

“My grandmother,” he says, as if the voice has just started to process in his mind.

“Obviously we fell asleep and never showered.”

“Are you up there, Roarke? Don’t make my old ankles walk the stairs.”

“Oh God, she’s coming up here.”

“Easy, Han,” Roarke says, his hands coming down on my shoulders. “We’re dressed. It’s not like we’re naked and rolling around in the sheets, though I wouldn’t complain if we were.”

“We’re in your bedroom. She’s going to think that we were.”

“And that matters why?”

“Because everyone is trying to make us a couple again.”

“Right,” he says, releasing me. “We wouldn’t want that. I’ll catch her before she gets up here.”

I grab his arm. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

“There you are!” Ruth exclaims, entering the room, and while perhaps I shouldn’t feel a burning need to make what just went wrong with Roarke right, I do. God, I really do.

“Roarke,” I whisper, my hand still holding onto his arm.

“Oh, Hannah, we’ve been worried sick.”

At this announcement from Ruth, I release Roarke and turn around to face her. “Worried?” My brows furrow. “I don’t understand.”

“Jessica went to pick you up, and you weren’t at your hotel, and you’re not answering your phone.”

I blink. “Right. I have no idea where my purse and phone are right now.”

“You must have left them at the stable,” Roarke suggests.

“What’s going on, you two?” Ruth asks, looking between us. “Because you’re both a mess. You sure don’t look like it’s been a night of hot loving.”

“Grandma,” Roarke chides, while I urgently cross my legs with the need to pee like a Russian racehorse, and having actually met a Russian racehorse, thanks to Roarke, I’m one of the few people who understands that statement. When a horse pees, get out of the way.

“I’m just keeping it real, honey,” Ruth replies, plucking her tongue at Roarke and looking between us. “You two are a mess.” She waggles a finger at me. “And you, missy. We weren’t sure if you were in danger or Roarke ran you off.”

“I don’t run off that easily,” I assure her. “But I’m so very sorry for scaring everyone and letting Jessica run around looking for me. Roarke had an emergency case last night, and I stayed and helped. I came up here to shower, and we sat down to talk, and that was it. We were asleep.”

I can almost feel Roarke’s anger at my explanation. I came up here to shower. No. No. I came up here to be with him. God. Can I make this any worse with him? I’m confused. I don’t know what I want or what I feel.

Ruth’s cellphone rings, and she grabs it from the side of the big bag at her hip, answering and then quickly saying, “I’ve got her. She helped Roarke with surgery and fell asleep. All is well.” She glances at me but keeps talking to the caller. “Yes. Yes. I’ll bring her for gingerbread cookie tasting, but she needs a shower and some sleep first. Let’s make it after lunch. Yes. Right. We’ll handle it.” She disconnects. “I told Jessica I’d take you to get a car.”

Not Roarke, I think. Of course not Roarke. Roarke has things to do, like sleep and be pissed at me.

“How did the emergency turn out?” Ruth asks.

“Racehorse with a broken leg,” Roarke says. “She’ll recover, but she won’t race again.”

“It was tough surgery,” I add quickly. “Roarke was incredible.”

“He always is, honey,” Ruth agrees. “You of all people know that. I always thought you’d end up a vet yourself.”

“I’m better behind the scenes and behind the camera.” I glance at Roarke, but he doesn’t look at me. “I don’t have Roarke’s calm confidence.”

He doesn’t comment. He glances at his watch. “I need to get down there and check on Bella.”

“I’ll come, too,” I offer. “But I have to pee first. I’ll meet you down there.” He nods and heads for the door. “Don’t you need to pee, too?”

He glances over his shoulder at me. “I don’t do such things. You know that.” He pauses beside his grandmother, kisses her, and heads out into the hallway.

I’d laugh at his joke, but it was dry and stiff when he’s never dry and stiff. “I’ll be right back, Ruth,” I say, heading to the bathroom.

“I’ll make coffee,” she offers.

“Fabulous. Thank you.” I hurry into the bathroom, wasting no time doing my business and cleaning up. One look in the mirror and I decide I pretty much look like raccoons have settled under my eyes and then played with my lipstick. I quickly scrub off the mess and open a drawer to find the toothpaste. There’s a new toothbrush, too, and I put it to use. A dash of Roarke’s cologne and all is well. At least for now. I grab the sink. I don’t know what I’m doing with Roarke. He has a good reason to be pissed. I let him feel like I’d opened the door to more, then I’d shut it in the bedroom, but really I didn’t. I just need time. I need time that’s about me and him, not me, him, and this town, and I don’t know if that is even possible.

I push off the vanity and head downstairs, following the scent of coffee to the giant kitchen, with a giant wooden island framed in navy-blue wood. Ruth pours me a cup of coffee, and I join her at the pot, gratefully accepting the brew. I begin to mix it the way I like, adding creamer and Splenda, while Ruth just stands there, watching me, studying me. “Your eyes light when you look at him.”

Of course they do, I think. I love the man. “I had to pee.”

“Your eyes didn’t light because you had to pee. That’s a silly explanation.”

She’s right, of course. How did that even come out of my mouth? “I love him. That hasn’t changed.”

“Then why aren’t you together?”

“What did he tell you?” I counter.

“He won’t talk about it,” she says.

“It’s his story to tell you, Ruth. You have to know that.”

“He loves you.”

“I know that,” I say. “I do. I just—I don’t know that we love the same way.”

Her brows dip. “That’s nonsense. You two are amazing together.”

“Hi.”

We look up to find Allison holding my purse. “Roarke thought you might need this.”

And he sent her. Of course he did. She’s so pretty. She must be the first person he thinks of for everything. “Thank you,” I say, somehow managing a cordial reply when my emotions officially want to explode right here in this kitchen. No, they want to explode outside, standing in front of Roarke. I cross the room and accept the purse. “How are Bella and Snowflake?”

“They’re both doing well,” she says, shoving red hair from her pretty face.

“Good.” I turn to Ruth. “Do you mind taking me to my hotel?” I need out of here before I really do explode on Roarke. What good will that do? And why am I even letting Allison get to me?

Ruth studies me. “Hannah,” she warns softly.

“Yes?”

“Are you being objective right now?” she queries.

I blink. “What?”

She purses her lips at me and looks at Allison. “What’s Roarke doing right now?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Would you believe he’s suturing a pig’s leg? Who’d have thunk it, right?”

Ruth turns her attention back on me. “I repeat. Are you being objective right now?”

God, this woman reads me too well. “No,” I admit, with the realization that Roarke was just trying to take care of me and an animal, as well, but there is a lesson here. I’m not being fair to Roarke in all kinds of ways. “And on that note,” I add, “I’m going to go check on Roarke. I’ll be right back.”

She nods, approval in her eyes. I slide my purse across my chest and turn to find that Allison has already gone. I hurry through the house, and when I step onto the porch, Roarke is walking up the steps, urgency radiating off him. “Hey,” I say. “What’s wrong?”

“I have an emergency case I need to fly out to take care of.”

“After Bella just got here?”

“There’s some sort of horse sickness that’s taken down ten horses.” He steps onto the porch. “I really don’t have a choice.”

“Oh,” I say, and I manage to be both disappointed at his departure and proud of the fact that he’s the one people come to for complicated cases such as this. “It’s kind of incredible and amazing the way you can help with such things.”

He studies me a long, hard beat. “What happened in the bedroom—I was wrong.”

I blink, stunned by this whiplash change of topic. “What?”

“I’m pushing you too hard,” he says. “Me leaving is probably a good thing right now because if I stay, I’m going to keep pushing. I need to give you space.”

I close that space between us now, and I dare to press my hand to his chest. “I don’t need space. I need to figure this out with you, just you, Roarke, not this entire town. I can’t do this while we’re the town soap opera.”

“You need to think about what you’re saying right now and what you really want. You need space.”

My hand falls from his chest. “You need space.”

“No, I don’t need space. I’ve had years of space, but you’re a little too good at giving it to me for my comfort right now. I can’t do hot and cold with you, Han. Not with you. I’m not wired that way. I can’t do it.” He repeats himself, which he doesn’t do, but then he says nothing more. He steps around me and enters the house.