| |
“GED?” Brandon gave Meg a wary look. “General Ed Degree? You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m not kidding.”
His mouth twisted sideways. “I don’t know.”
“You didn’t know about learning to read either.” At first Brandon’s progress had been painfully slow, but a couple of weeks ago, something had shifted and things started clicking for him. He still struggled, but he had more tools to deal with the struggle. As his vocabulary and word attack skills grew, so did his confidence. He was reading menus for Pete’s sake. Meg was going to strike while the iron was hot—while he was feeling successful.
“You have good math skills—definitely a base to build upon.”
“But, I...uh...doing it alone is kind of...”
“I’m staying for a while.”
He frowned at her. “What about going back to school?”
“I’m putting it off for a year.” She held up a finger before he could say anything. “And you don’t get to discuss the matter with me, because you’ve put off school for five years.”
“Six.”
“If you get your GED, you have more options open to you. What if you don’t stay with the MCC forever?”
He scowled at her as if that was not an option.
“What if Zach wanted you to go to school to be an official mechanic or welder?” Both of which could be useful skills on the ranch.
“Yeah,” he agreed softly.
“Instead of just learning the trade here, you could be certified. Maybe make extra money doing outside jobs.”
And if he ever wanted to leave the ranch, he could be employed.
“I’ll work with you,” she said. “Every day.”
He gave her a cocky smile. “Yet you won’t agree to dance lessons.”
“We can discuss that later.” Much later.
He looked as if he wanted to push the dance lessons, but instead picked up the brochure she’d given him. “I wouldn’t mind not being a dropout.”
“You have the ability to do this.”
He smiled a little, pressed his mouth flat again, then a bigger smile broke through. “If you’d help me, then yeah. I’d like to try.”
“Not try. Do.”
“Thanks, Yoda.”
Jason was beginning to dread what had formerly been his favorite part of training—the long solo rides, because they gave him way too much time to think. And all that thinking was leading him in circles. What the fuck was his next move—if he made one—supposed to be? Meg would probably laugh if she knew that his instinct was to find someone to talk to, so that he could sort through the stuff in his head. Make the right choice for everyone involved.
There was no one he could talk to. Not without spilling way too much.
No matter what, even if he had to admit he was running, he couldn’t shake the thought that Meg was better off finding someone whose thoughts weren’t going in circles. But from the way things were playing out, he wouldn’t have to worry about running or being a coward, because Meg was keeping a healthy distance from him.
She was also showing no signs of leaving the ranch.
If he left, then he truly would be running, so there they were. At an impasse.
A big storm was moving into the region later that day—a real storm, not the small spits and spurts of rain they’d been getting over the past week—and he wanted to get two training rides in before the rain started for real. He’d just finished saddling Bill when he caught sight of Meg leading Zach’s Appaloosa mare toward the pasture gate.
He called her name and she stopped and turned. If he wasn’t mistaken, her back also stiffened. He led Bill closer, noting that her expression was more wary than open, as if she was expecting a battle of some sort. And why not? That was what they’d done the last couple of times they’d spoken.
“How far are you going today?”
She pushed the windblown tendrils of hair away from her face. “Finishing the north stretch.”
“There’s a storm moving in.”
“I know.” She lifted her chin. Waited.
“Maybe you don’t need to go out today.”
She scowled at him. “If it rains, the trails will get slick and it could be days until I can finish. I’ve found a lot of holes and we have cattle drifting onto the property.”
“If you get into trouble, you’ll be a long way from the ranch.”
“I checked with Zach. He wants me to go.” Jason opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. “I have a job to do, Jason.” She turned and led the Appy to gate. Once through, she mounted.
“Meg.” Her name came out of his mouth almost before he was aware of speaking.
“I’ve got to go.” She turned the horse and headed off across the pasture at a trot.
Jason got in his two training rides before the rain started. It was nothing more than a sprinkle. Enough to dampen the earth. For the time being, that is. The real weather was due to start in an hour or two. Zach and Cody had left for Bozeman before he’d gotten back, Brandon was MIA, leaving him with not a whole lot to do except to scan the pasture behind the barn, looking for a lone rider to emerge from the woods on the other side.
That and pace. He started working on his quarterly taxes, found he couldn’t focus as the rain continued to drum on the cabin roof.
Meg was smart. She’d head home as soon as the weather turned, and since the rain would have started on the mountain where she was riding, she was probably on her way home now.
But over an hour later, she still wasn’t home and the rain showed no signs of letting up. He pulled out his phone and called Zach. “Where exactly is Meg checking fences today?” he asked without bothering with a hello. “I know it’s to the north, but which trail?”
“The storm is swinging wide. You should only get the edge of it there.”
“Maybe so, but it’s still raining like fuck.”
“The Broken Gully trail.”
“Thanks.”
“Jase...”
“Yeah?”
“I understand why you’re worried, but you must know that Meg can take care of herself. If it gets too wet, she can head to the line cabin.” True statement. Meg was more than capable. But that didn’t ease the knot in his belly. “If this had been Shane,” Zach continued in a reasonable voice, “would you be this bent out of shape over a rainstorm?”
That’s it, Zach. Twist the knife. “It’s not Shane. It’s Meg.” And, yeah. He’d be concerned about Shane. But he wouldn’t be pacing the floor over him.
There was a brief silence, then Zach said, “What does that tell you, Jason?”
Jason sucked in a breath, decided not to waste it and hung up the phone.
An hour later the rain had let up to a degree, but the iron-gray clouds hung over the mountain, darkening the skies. It would be dark in a matter of hours. He could make it to the line cabin by then. If she wasn’t there, then he’d continue to look. He wasn’t having Meg out in the rain and dark, hurt or injured.
He caught Bob and led him into the barn, threw the saddle on him without much more than a twinge of pain. The wrist was healed. The ribs were almost there. It was his insides that were still a wreck.
He mounted Bob, rode to the gate, opened it without dismounting and let himself through. He trotted across the pasture, where the ground was firm, but once he hit the trees, he slowed. Water was running down the trails in small streams, and he guided Bob over to the rocky margins. When he hit the fork, he headed up the Broken Gully trail and came out of the trees half a mile later. The trail wound up along the narrow rocky gully, before disappearing back into the trees, and Jason dismounted to lead Bob along the slick rocks. Ten feet below at least a foot of water streamed through the normally dry gully.
“Oh yeah,” Jason muttered to the horse. “The storm is swinging wide.”
But not wide enough. He hunched his shoulders against the rain and wind, burying his chin in the wet folds of his silk wild rag as he climbed.
He’d just hit the trees again and was about to remount when Bob raised his head and gave a shrill whinny. He was answered and seconds later Meg came around the bend in the trail, leading the Appy mare. She stopped when she saw Jason, then started forward again, her boots sloshing in the mud. It was all he could do not to race forward, fold her into his arms and tell her that he was so damned glad to see her.
Instead he stayed where he was, standing in the rain next to Bob, torn between relief and the sure knowledge that he’d overreacted when he followed his gut and set out after her.
Or not.
The mare was limping, which explained why Meg was walking instead of riding.
“Did something happen?” she asked when she got close enough for him to hear her.
“Yeah. You didn’t come home.”
She stopped a few feet away from him, swiped the moisture off her face with the back of her hand. “Dotty slipped on wet granite, strained a tendon I think.” She gave him a dark look before adding in a grudging voice, “Which wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gone out. I know. But I found the hole in the fence. All the wires were down.”
“Was it worth it?”
“You know I’d never do anything to hurt a horse, so no.”
“You worried the shit out of me.”
“Good.”
His back stiffened at the unexpected answer. “What the hell does that mean?”
Her expression shifted as she glanced away. When she finally looked back at him, she appeared to be very close to tears. Meg, who never cried. Not even when he’d walked away that first time. “What?” he asked, feeling suddenly helpless.
“Damn it, Jason.”
“Meg...” She walked to him then, still leading the mare who bumped noses with Bob. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and after the briefest of hesitations, he did the same, holding her tightly, smoothing his hand over her wet back, pressing his cheek against her wet hair.
“Why do you keep fighting this?”
“Because I’m fucking scared.”
“I know.” His arms tightened and he felt her shiver against him. “I’m scared, too. I’m scared you’re never going to figure this out.”
“Because you do have it figured out?”
“My part, yeah.”
She reached up to take his face between her cold wet hands. He turned his head to kiss her palm. The corner of her mouth quivered. “I have a lot to say,” she muttered, “but I’m too damned cold.”
He put an arm around her, drawing her closer to his side, ignoring the way their raincoats bunched up between them, and they walked in tandem until they hit the narrow part of the trail. Then he stopped and offered her his reins. “Go home on Bob. I’ll walk the Appy back.”
She shook her head and started walking, the mare limped along behind her. “No. But thank you.”
“Don’t be stubborn,” he called after her, even as it struck him that if she hadn’t been stubborn, he wouldn’t be out on this mountain, feeling as if his world was somehow whole again. Or maybe closer to whole. There were issues to be addressed and he still wasn’t certain about...well a lot of things.
But he couldn’t keep going as he had been. The inertia and the confusion had been killing him. And he wasn’t going to run again.
She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “I’ll go back with you.”
His heart swelled at her simple words, which held a huge implication. She’d go with him...if he didn’t screw up again.
Or maybe even if he did.
He silently followed her down the trail, then hurried Bob a few steps to catch up with her as they crossed the broad pasture leading to the back ranch gate. He opened it and Meg went through, her shoulders hunched. He was pretty sure her teeth were close to rattling, but she led the Appy into the barn, out of the rain, and started unsaddling her. Jason unsaddled Bob, took the tack to the shed while Meg released the horses. He didn’t tell her to go to the house and warm up. Didn’t waste his breath.
When she came back in through the rear of the barn, he waited for her before starting for the door that led to the front drive, only to stop when she said, “Why did you come after me? I wasn’t late. Nowhere close to late.”
He turned to see her standing a few feet behind him, a very serious expression on her face. She wanted answers. She deserved answers. “I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going to lose you.”
“Lose me?”
Her frown made him feel ridiculously self-conscious. This wasn’t the kind of stuff he said out loud, but here he was. Saying it. “Crazy, I know, with everything that’s happened. And...I know you’re a good hand. I know you can handle yourself. I don’t coddle people.”
Her lips parted for a moment. “It hasn’t been an easy two weeks.”
“No fucking shit.”
She came closer, put a gentle hand on the sleeve of his wet slicker. When he looked down into her face, saw the tension there, the concern—for him—all he wanted was to wrap her in his arms, hold her close, tell her it was all right. That they were all right. That he wanted to start over from ground zero, only not screw up this time.
“You are not the same as your family.”
He blinked at her. “You’ve been talking to Cody.”
“A little. I should say sorry, but I’m not. It helped me understand some things.”
“It’s okay. I guess it’s part of this friends-watching-your-back thing.”
She smiled a little and he did put his arms around her then, tucking her head under his chin, nuzzling the top of her wet head with his cheek. “I know I’m not like my family.” He eased back so he could see her face again. “And now that Adam is out of the picture, I think they may leave me alone. I’m doing better about my background—and I’m coming to grips with my fears about my family messing with my friends because of me.” He took a breath, let it out. “What I don’t know is how to handle this.” He made a gesture that encompassed the two of them. “There are so many ways to fuck up. So many mistakes to be made. So much I don’t know.”
“And if you go into this expecting dire consequences from a fuckup, it’s never going to work.”
There it was. The crux of the matter. He had to change his attitude about himself, and his abilities or they were both sunk.
A shiver went through her and he rubbed his hands over her shoulders. “You need to get into a hot shower.”
She pressed her lips together as she searched his face. “But we’re not done...right?”
“We’re not done.” He knew now that he couldn’t handle it if they were done any more than she could.
After leaving the barn, Meg started toward Jason’s cabin. If she was getting into a shower, she was doing it in a place where she could be near him. He walked beside her without saying a word, opened the door for her, went into the bathroom and cranked on the water in the shower stall. Meg took off her wet coat and hung it on the hook next to the door, where it immediately started forming a puddle as the water dripped off the oilskin. She edged the rug underneath it with her foot as Jason hung his coat beside hers. And that somehow seemed right—their coats hanging together.
When she glanced up at him, his expression was extremely serious and her heart beat a little faster as he turned her so that she was square to him, then started to unbutton her shirt. Her hands were close to numb, his couldn’t be much better, but he managed to get the buttons out of the holes, the cuffs undone. He gently slid the shirt off her shoulders, catching it before it hit the floor and draping it over the back of the kitchen chair. Then he sat her down, pulled off her soaked boots and peeled her socks off her wet feet.
Meg bit her lip as he helped her to her feet, undid her jeans and somehow worked them down her damp legs. Then he stood, looking down at her, more emotion in his face than she’d ever seen. Her breathing went shallow and he pulled his gaze away.
“Maybe you’d better do your underwear.”
“You’re doing such a good job.”
“And you need to get into the shower.”
There were other ways to get warm, but Meg kept the thought to herself. She walked into the now steamy bathroom and took off her bra and panties, tossed them into the plastic basket Jason used as a hamper, then stepped under the hot, hot spray. Closed her eyes. Blessed warmth.
Her eyes flashed open again as the curtain was moved aside and Jason stepped into the shower, filling the space. But instead of reaching for her, he reached for the washcloth, lathered it with soap and then turned her around to gently wash her back, her arms, her legs.
Her breath caught as both his fingers and the cloth trailed over her soapy body.
She turned around, glanced down, her breath catching yet again as she saw how hard he was. She met his gaze and he gave his head a small shake.
No. He would not make love to her here. But he would make her crazy.
He washed the front of her, concentrating on her breasts, lingering a little too long as his hand slipped between her thighs. Finally he gave in, leaned in and kissed her, his erection pressed hard against her abdomen. She circled it, felt it throb, held it between them until he raised his head.
“First we talk.” His voice was low and husky, speaking of his desire. Meg swallowed, thought about protesting, but she slowly released him, then pushed her hair back from her forehead with both hands. There were things to discuss, matters to settle. And as much as she wanted to go for the here and now, she would follow his lead. She nodded and he reached past her to turn off the water.
He handed her a towel as she followed him out of the small shower stall and then draped his own towel around his hips without bothering to dry off. He left the bathroom and returned a moment later with an oversize hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.
“I want you to stay warm.”
“I don’t think that is going to be a problem,” she said. Not when her insides were on fire. She pressed her lips together, tried to keep the words from forming, then blurted, “I don’t want to wait. I need you now.”
