A Cowboy's Heart (18 page)

“They're with Janie. She got home a few minutes ago.” He grabbed the rope and made an adjustment on the knot she had tied. “It'll slip loose.”

“I've done this before.”

“I know you have, but it's pouring down rain, and I'm here. You could get in the truck and wait.”

“Get in the truck?” She blinked a few times, and then wiped the rain from her face. “You're telling me to get in my truck? This is my cow, and I know how to do this. She isn't the first cow that I've had down, and not the first one that I've dealt with alone.”

“It's pouring, you're soaked and that lightning is getting close.”

“I'm not leaving.” She pushed in next to him to prove her point.

“Fine, be stubborn.” He grabbed the hooves of the calf and slipped his hands down. “Pull when I say to pull.”

“I've done this before.” She shouted over the wind and the crash of thunder. He shot a look back and shook his head.

Twenty minutes later the calf was on the ground, and the mother, exhausted but alive, turned to nudge her offspring. Birth. Willow always cried after a birth, whether it was a cow, horse or a litter of kittens in the barn. The miracle of birth moved her. It deepened a longing that she tried to ignore.

“We need to get them to the barn.” Clint ran to the truck and grabbed another length of rope. The rain had slowed to a steady mist, but they were both soaked, and their feet sloshed through the soppy mud under the stand of trees where the cow had taken shelter. It hadn't proved to really be a shelter, but the cow didn't know better.

“I'll lead her to the barn.” Willow took the rope from his hands. “You drive the calf on up in the truck.”

Clint stood in front of her, his gaze holding hers. “Why do you keep pushing me away?”

“I'm not. I'm doing what I've been doing for five years. I'm taking care of my animals, and I'm not letting you take over.”

“You're pushing me away.”

“I'm sorry you feel that way. I feel like I'm standing my ground and holding on to something that is important to me.” She bit down on her lip, waiting for him to say something. She was waiting for him to understand how afraid she was. But she couldn't say it out loud.

She couldn't tell him about her fears. She was afraid of the eventual silence. And she was afraid of losing him. What would he think if she told him that? Especially now, with Jenna coming home and needing him.

She just looked at him, wanting him to get it. And wanting him to make walking away easy.

He didn't say anything. Instead he leaned forward, keeping his hands at his side, and he kissed her. His lips were wet from rain and cool air. Willow closed her eyes, realizing that the storm had nothing on this, on whatever connected them. She wanted to explore it, figure it out.

And she wanted to run from it, before it consumed her and then left her empty.

He pulled back, leaving her cold and uncertain, shivering in rain-soaked clothes. “I'm sorry that you are so determined to push me away,” he whispered. She didn't hear, but she read his lips.

“I'll meet you back at the barn.” She slipped the rope around the cow's neck.

“Willow, I'm trying to say something here. Are you going to walk away?”

“I'm not sure what I'm doing, Clint. I didn't want you to know about my hearing because I didn't want you to change. I didn't want you to start treating me differently.” She held tight to the rope and blinked as she focused on his face. “But things have changed.”

She waited for him to answer, to tell her that he would let her be herself. She wanted him to do something to show her things hadn't changed.

And as she waited, she saw their friendship melting away because he didn't understand. For him, being strong seemed as natural as breathing. And for her, it was like struggling for every breath.

I
CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE
, he signed. I
CAN'T
.

“Can't what?”

“Never mind, we need to get back to the house.” Clint gave her his jacket. “Since you insist on being the one to walk her to the barn.”

Willow nodded, but she didn't know what to say.

He said something she didn't catch.

“What?” She faced him, faced the gray eyes that sometimes
flashed with humor, or simmered with some indiscernible emotion. This time the look simmered.

“Willow, whether you want to admit it or not, things are going to change. For all of us. So you find faith, and you learn how to deal with it, but you can't keep it from happening.” He exhaled and shook his head. “My sister had part of her leg amputated. She's a single mom with twin boys. Everything is changing. And what you're going through isn't fair, either. If I could fix you all…”

“Clint, you don't have to fix us.”

“That isn't what I meant.”

She nodded, but she didn't know what to say. And her mind went back to his comment about not being able to take this, and it reminded her of someone about to walk away. He thought she needed to be fixed.

And all she really needed was to be loved for who she was.

“Willow?”

“We should go.” She glanced over her shoulder, at more black clouds rolling their way. “Looks like we're about to get hit by more rain.”

“You're running from me.”

She wished it wasn't true, but it probably was. His eyes reflected the storm, and his smile had disappeared. He deserved some kind of explanation.

“I want you for a friend, not a caretaker.”

“Sometimes we're stronger when we let someone help us.”

“But you're taking over. You see me as someone you need to fix.”

She waited for him to tell her he'd give her space and that he could be in her life without taking over. But instead he took a step back, a step away from her. She saw it in his eyes, realization. He knew that she was right. He sighed and turned away.

The rain started to fall again, this time a gentle, soaking rain. Willow pulled her jacket collar up as he walked away.

He got into the truck and she started up the hill, the cow
walking behind her and the truck just ahead. She could see Clint's reflection in the rearview mirror as he kept an eye on them. And she knew that everything changed today.

She had pushed someone from her life, someone who had become maybe her best friend, and it hurt. It hurt worse than that moment when Brad told her their marriage was over. It hurt worse than the plane ride when she was ten years old.

This hurt deep in her heart, like an ache that might linger for a long, long time. And all she had wanted was for him to say he could be in her life without taking over.

Maybe he couldn't.

“W
hy aren't you talking to Clint?” Janie asked after two days of silence. Willow had wondered when her aunt would bring it up.

“I'm not
not
talking to him.”

“Okay, then what is this? He came back from helping you with that cow, and since then the two of you have been circling like wasps that have had their nests messed with.”

Willow sort of chuckled and smiled. “That's a nice visual image.”

“Okay, so, tell me what is going on.”

“He's a macho cowboy who likes to fix people. I don't need to be fixed, and I told him that.”

“Tell him you love him.”

Willow picked up her purse. “I'm not going to tell him I love him. Years ago I had a crush. Now I don't know what I have. I do know that I need to run into town.”

“You're stubborn.”

Willow nodded. “Yep, I am. Need anything from the store?”

Janie shook her head and walked off. Willow walked out to her truck, patting her leg as an invitation for Bell to ride along.

When she pulled into the feed store in town, an older farmer waved and headed in her direction. Bart Jenson. She took in a deep gulp of air and mentally prepared herself for a man who just couldn't handle the idea that she raised bulls. It wasn't proper he had said, more than once.

“Mr. Jenson.” She closed the door of her truck and smiled. He didn't smile back.

“I want to talk to you about the fence of yours that borders my property.”

“Didn't we already settle this?”

A truck pulled into the parking lot. Clint's truck. Oh, she so didn't need this. She needed to handle Bart and pay for her grain so it could be delivered on Monday. She didn't need to settle an old dispute all over again.

Clint was getting out of his truck. The windows were down, and the boys waved from the back seat.

“I settled it with that stubborn aunt of yours, but now you own the place.” Bart's voice was as growly as his personality. He hitched his thumbs in the straps of his bib overalls and put on his benevolent face, the one he used when talking down to a woman.

Clint was heading their way. To take over. She knew that look on his face. He thought she needed to be rescued.

“I'm sticking with the agreement, Bart. I'm paying for one thousand feet of fence. I'll have it finished by the end of August.”

Bart turned away from her. “I'll just talk to Clint about it.”

Willow wanted to stomp. She wanted to demand that the older farmer talk to her. And he was ignoring her, waiting for Clint. Willow waited, too, ready to be angry and to tell Clint that he didn't need to fix this for her.

“Clint, I want to discuss this fence situation with you.”

“It isn't my fence, Bart.”

“Yes, but you know as well as I do that this woman don't know a thing about how this should be done.”

“Sounds to me like she does.”

Clint smiled and then he tipped his hat and walked away. Willow tried to thank him, but he kept going, and she knew that meant more than words. Bart Gordon was red in the face and looked like a man about to blow. Willow faced the problem, her problem, but her gaze shifted back to Clint, walking through the door of the feed store.

“Bart, I'm sticking with the deal. I keep my word, and I'm asking you to keep yours.”

“My word is good, young lady. But I'll have you know, this is the last time we'll do a deal like this.”

“Have it your way.” She smiled. “But we're going to be neighbors, and we're going to have to work through problems from time to time.”

“You won't last on that ranch by yourself, not without Clint or Janie to take care of things.”

He stormed off, and Willow wanted to remind him that she'd taken care of herself for five years before Clint Cameron showed up. She could still handle things on her own.

But the thought wilted inside her, because she was having a hard time believing. She knew, without a doubt, that she was going to need help running the ranch.

She knew that she would miss Clint. And he had just proved that he could let her handle things alone. She would have told him, but when he walked out to his truck, he passed by without speaking to her.

And tomorrow he was leaving the boys with them so that he could visit Jenna in the hospital. He planned on being gone for close to a week. Willow started her truck and backed out of the parking space without going in for feed.

 

Clint walked down the hallway of the hospital, the antiseptic smell so strong he could nearly taste it. He glanced down at
the number on a piece of paper the lady at the information desk had given him.

He neared room 512 and his heart ka-thumped in his chest. He could count on one hand the times in his life that he'd been afraid. This one counted.

He paused at the door, giving himself a minute to breathe and to be the older brother Jenna needed. Funny that Willow was pushing him away because she thought he was strong, and because he had a habit of taking over. He felt anything but strong. He shoved the paper into his pocket, practiced a smile and walked into the room.

Jenna was awake and looking at the door, like she'd known he was there. She smiled, a little weary, kind of sad. He took a few steps, aware that they were both on the verge of tears.

“Hey, Sis.” He leaned, pulling her to him in a hug that was awkward for them both.

“Let me go now, Clint, you're suffocating me.”

He let go and backed up. He was suffocating everyone he cared about. Suffocating the people he loved. He took off his hat and sat down in the seat next to hers.

“Are you okay?” Jenna reached for his hand.

“I've had better days. But I'm here for you.”

She laughed, shaky and weak from painkillers. “Clint, are you always going to be there for everyone?”

“I'm sure gonna try.”

A light squeeze on his hand. “I'm glad you've always been there for me.”

He nodded, and his gaze shifted down to her leg, the amputation a success, they had said. He didn't know how losing part of her leg could be a successful surgery. He was just glad she was alive. And she had faith. Both were answers to prayer.

“I'm going to be okay.” She made it sound like a fact.

“I know you are.”

“I think I probably feel better than you do.”

“I don't know.” He leaned forward, resting his hat on his knee. “What happened?”

“I don't remember a lot, but I woke up in sort of a house. An older lady, she'd been a nurse a long time ago, had watched the attack on our convoy. When she saw me, alive, she sent her nephew to drag me to her house. She wanted to save me.”

“She did, didn't she?”

“I think so.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “I don't like to think about what could have happened.”

“Then we won't. Instead let's talk about getting you back home, back to the boys and the farm.”

“It's going to be a little while before that happens.”

“I know.” He touched her brow, brushing back dark hair that fell into her eyes. “But we have you. That's what matters.”

“How are my boys?” Tears flooded her eyes. “Can you bring them soon?”

“I will. And they're fine. They're with Janie and Willow. They're probably eating too much ice cream and running the house.” He pulled folded pages from a coloring book out of his pocket, along with snapshots of the boys. “They sent these for you.”

She took the papers and opened them, tears trickling down her cheeks as she stared at her boys, smiling from the photographs that he hadn't thought to take. The pictures had been Willow's idea.

“They're doing great, Jenna. They miss you, but they're good.”

“Thank you for taking care of them for me.” She wiped at her eyes with a tissue she pulled from a box on the table. “Are they okay, Clint? Do they know what happened?”

“They're doing great. And they've taken care of me most of the time.” He sat forward in the chair. “They do know. They have a lot of questions and suggestions.”

They both smiled at that.

“I miss them so much.”

“They miss you.” And he told her about Timmy's near-escape when he went to look for her.

She smiled, a little bigger, a little more genuine. “Now, I want to talk about you and Willow.”

Of course his misery was what she needed to cheer herself up. He nearly laughed, yet he didn't feel like laughing. He definitely didn't want to talk about Willow, who was barely speaking to him.

He had a problem with relationships. He'd known it since high school. He'd had a habit of dating girls who needed to be fixed. The worst mistake had been the judge's daughter. She'd been angry with her parents, and he'd been a good way to get back at them.

After it was over he realized he hadn't loved her after all, because he hadn't really missed her. She'd hurt his pride more than anything.

He missed Willow. Even though he saw her daily at the farm, he missed her.

“Come on, Clint, give it a chance.” Jenna tugged at his hand.

“Do you really need to go in that direction to be happy?” He smiled and she laughed.

“Yes, I do. Tell me all about it.”

“She thinks I have a habit of taking over.”

Jenna laughed. “And you think you don't? Clint, you always take over. It's a big part of your macho personality.”

“Fine, I take over. But I can't change who I am, and I don't have time for a relationship.”

“Did you want a relationship?” Her laughter was gone, and she looked too serious. “When are you going to let yourself have time?”

“Jenna, I can't think about that right now. I need to think about you and the boys.”

She struggled to sit up, and when he reached to help, she put a hand out to stop them. “Hold it right there, Cowboy. See, that's your problem. I can get up by myself. I have to learn to do this on my own. And you can't take over.”

“I wasn't.”

“You were. You've always taken care of me. And I let you. Now you're trying to take care of Willow. You're a pretty hard guy to fight off, and maybe she's afraid she'll lose.”

“I was just trying to help.”

“Help by letting us be strong. Help me by realizing that I'm a grown woman with two boys that I have to take care of. Willow has built a business without your help.”

“Her hearing is getting worse.”

“So, help her to be strong. You can do that. And you have to build your own life. A life that doesn't include taking care of me, the boys or Dad.”

It took a minute for that to sink in, and when it did, it hurt. He'd always taken care of Jenna. And now, when she needed him more than ever, she was telling him to back off. She was his little sister. He didn't think he could.

“Clint, let me take care of myself, and I promise, when I need help, I'll ask.” She handed him a piece of paper. “And I bet if you ask Willow, she'll tell you that she's willing to ask when she needs help.”

“It isn't easy.” Changes, they were all facing changes. And if he wanted to keep Willow in his life, he had to be willing to change.

“You're right, it isn't easy. You're a great brother, a great person, but your relationships have always been about taking care of someone. That isn't really love.” She pointed to the paper she'd handed him. “That's my life, right there on that paper. I wrote up a one-year plan, a five-year plan and a fifteen-year plan. That's where I want to be and what I want to do. I have goals. I have dreams of my own.”

He looked at the list. It included being a mom, taking care of herself and her children and raising horses. Taking care of herself. She had underlined that goal.

He nodded, but it sure wasn't easy. “Good plans.”

“Yes, they are. And you need to make a few plans of your own.” She smiled, his little sister, strong and a force to be reckoned with. “Plans that don't include taking care of me.”

“I'm being lectured.” He shook his head at this fact.

“Yes, you are. I think that I have to give you a push so that you'll let me take the steps I need to in my own life. And when you go home, make nice with Willow and let her love you back. Give her room to breathe.”

He sat back, realizing what she was telling him. He had been acting like everyone else in Willow's life, taking over and making decisions for her. He should have concentrated on the one thing he realized he really wanted to do.

He wanted to love her.

But he didn't know if she'd be willing to let him. She had walls, and because of him, the walls were now a little higher, and harder to climb.