Bad News Cowboy (26 page)

Liss opened the door to Connor's truck and stood waiting for her to climb in.

“I... Can you sit in the middle?” Kate asked.

Kate needed an easy escape. She didn't know if she would survive the ride home. She needed to let part of the splintered bits of herself break open entirely. To let some of this pressure escape so it didn't dissolve her entirely.

“Sure.” Liss climbed in ahead of her, surprisingly agile given her advanced stage of pregnancy.

For the first time ever in her whole life, Kate really wondered what it would be like to have a baby. A whole new wave of longing broke over her. Dreams, desires she'd never once let herself have, clawing up from deep inside her, threatening to overtake her.

Her stomach cramped and she got in quickly, slamming the truck door behind her just as Connor got in and closed the driver's side.

She wasn't going to think about shit like having babies. She'd never thought about it before.

She thought of Jack. Jack's hands on her skin. Jack looking at her, his blue eyes so deep and earnest.

I love you.

That meant...that meant this stuff. Getting married. Having babies.

The pang hit harder, echoing through her, a metallic taste lingering on her tongue.

No. She couldn't do that. He would depend on her then. A child would be depending on her...

Shit. No. Shit. No.

That mantra echoed in her head the entire ride back to the ranch, Connor and Liss, blissfully, letting silence fill the cab of the truck, letting it surround her like a fuzzy blanket, cushioning her from reality.

From the pain of the moment.

They pulled into the driveway and Kate felt her body start to tense. They would want to talk tonight. And she would have to explain.

And she couldn't explain. Not without the dam bursting and her becoming a whole flood that washed away everything she knew. Everything she was.

They pulled up in front of the main house. Of course Connor wasn't taking her home. Of course he was bringing her here. And Liss would make cocoa and they would want to talk and she couldn't. She couldn't.

She felt for the handle and flung the passenger door wide, undid her buckle and stumbled out of the truck.

She had told him she wasn't running. But she was. And she was going to do it again. She turned away from Connor and Liss and she ran. Not toward her house, toward the barn. If there was any clarity to be had, she would find it there.

There was no sound around her, only the desperate gasp for breath and the sound of her feet on the ground. She closed everything out and listened closely to that rhythm, counting footsteps, counting breaths. That at least did something to stem the pain.

She wrenched open the side door of the barn and walked inside, waiting for the immediate peace and calm that always came when she breathed that air in deep.

Instead it broke loose that frozen block that had lodged itself in her heart. All the cracks that had formed on the drive over breaking apart, bit by bit. And once that happened, the sob that had been building in her chest all this time released.

Tears flooded down her cheeks and she didn't make any move to stop them. She walked over to Roo's stall and pushed the door open. Stepping inside, she put her hand on her horse's rump, sliding her fingertips along up to her neck before wrapping her arms around the animal and burying her face against her. And then she cried like she didn't remember crying in her whole life. Not when her dad died, not when Jessie died.

She had cried—of course she had. She had grieved. Because she had lost. But something in her, a wall of some kind that she'd built up strong around herself, had held the flow in check.

That wall was gone now. And she was certain it had something to do with Jack. Stupid Jack. Stupid Jack who probably had Connor's knuckle prints in his cheek. She should have felt bad about that. Later she would feel bad about that. But right now she was glad that someone who was stronger than she was had knocked him flat. She wanted him to hurt the way she did, to feel afraid, to feel as if the rules had been changed.

Because she was small and petty. And she wasn't brave.

She had spent so long pretending to be brave. Convincing herself she was brave. Because she ran into everything with guns blazing. Because she didn't cry—she gritted her teeth and got to work. But the truth was, she did that only because she was afraid of all the other emotions she might accidentally feel. Bravery wasn't just being tough. And she was only just now realizing that fact.

Fine, then. She was a coward.

But things were changing too fast. She had changed; what she wanted had changed. And she was afraid she would keep on changing until she got to a place where she didn't recognize herself anymore.

This is what happened to Mom.

Fear gripped her throat and shook her hard, a sob racking her shoulders.

“Kate?”

The sound of her brother's voice penetrated her weeping.

She looked up, dragging her arm over her cheeks, wiping the tears away. “Shouldn't you be out rallying the townsfolk with pitchforks and torches?”

“Did you want me to? Because I would happily go torch Monaghan's ass. He would deserve it.”

She sniffed loudly. “Why are you so convinced of that? You haven't even asked me what my part in all this was.”

“He deserves it, because you're my sister. And you're upset. There's only one side for me to take.”

“You probably shouldn't hate him.”

“I don't know. I was sort of thinking I should call up Eli and make sure he hates him, too.”

She shuddered, another sob working its way through her. “Don't.”

“I do have to tell him. Otherwise the gossip chain is going to wrap itself around him when he goes to get that foofy coffee of his tomorrow morning before his shift. I imagine you would rather have me controlling the conversation instead of some old busybody.”

“I guess we did make gossip. But it was his fault.”

“Then I'll ready the pitchforks,” Connor said, his tone casual.

She wiped at a tear that was running down her cheek. “No, you dumb asshole. I meant the spectacle was his fault. Because he wouldn't just...”

“Kate Garrett, this is the first time I've seen you cry outside a funeral since you were a little girl with two skinned knees, two scraped elbows and a split lip from a very ill-advised stunt you pulled climbing around in the hayloft. Which in my mind means Jack Monaghan might need killing. But I would rather know for sure before I go risking jail time over the demise of my oldest friend.”

She paused for a moment. “Well, on the one hand, if you did kill him, Eli might help you cover it up.”

“Kate. He said... He said that he loved you. The only thing I have ever heard Jack say he loved is a hamburger and a piece of pie. He doesn't do things like that. He doesn't get attached to people. Well, people other than me and Eli. He doesn't get attached to women.”

Another tear trailed down her cheek. “I know.”

“Maybe tell me what's been going on with few enough details that I don't end up emotionally scarred.”

She blinked rapidly, trying to stem the flow of moisture that was running endlessly from her eyes. “We've been...together. You know. Together.”

“Yes. I know exactly what you mean. Picnics in the field with a good foot of space between your bodies. The begrudging allowance of hand-holding after several dates. That is what you mean.”

“Well...”

“No. For the purposes of this conversation. That is what you mean. Continue.”

A reluctant laugh pushed through her tears. “Right. Picnics. And it was supposed to just be picnics. That's what he said. That's what I wanted. It's what I agreed to. But then...then tonight happened. He told me that he loved me. And I just...” Tears and misery struggled to the forefront again, choking off her words. “I can't. Connor, I can't. How can I? With everything... With Mom...”

Suddenly, she found herself being tugged away from her horse and pulled into Connor's embrace. “Whatever Mom's issues were, they were hers. Only hers. You're not why she left, Kate. I'm sure there were a million reasons, but you weren't one of them. You weren't the reason she left. But you are damn sure the reason we stayed. You were our glue, Katie. You're the reason Eli and I didn't just give up and go off and do Lord knows what while everything here fell apart. We didn't stay for Dad. It was all for you. So don't for one moment think that you somehow can't have love.”

She took a shuddering breath. “At the risk of sounding a little bit egotistical, I actually do know that, Connor.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “You and Eli did such a good job of letting me know that you never resented me. And letting me know just how special I was. All of the baggage and crap that I have because of Mom and Dad... That's all on them. And it's so much smaller than it probably should be. Because of you.”

“So what's the matter, then, Katie? If you don't love him, you don't love him. And that's fine. But you're in here crying like someone reached in and pulled your heart out. You look like someone who just lost love. I'm the last person on earth to push anyone toward Jack. I know him well enough to know what he's done, and that when it comes to love he's unproven. But I don't want to see you like this.” He released his hold on her. “Do you love him?”

“It isn't that simple.”

“Bullshit it's not. It's completely that simple.”

“No, it's not. I'm not afraid of not being lovable. You've proved to me that I am. Eli has proved it. I'm afraid of... I'm afraid of me. I've changed so much just in the past couple of months. I tried so hard not to. For a long time. But then I saw myself being left behind. You're married. You're having a baby. Eli is married. I was still just me. I got afraid. And I thought maybe I needed to do something. So I started aiming harder for the rodeo stuff. And...and then there was Jack. I know you worried about being Dad. That's not what I worry about. I worry that I'm Mom. So I spent a hell of a long time just working hard, trying to be everything good that you and Eli were. And then I allowed just a little bit of change, and everything feels outside my control. Where will it end? I'm afraid of what I'll change into. I'm afraid that someday I'll be the one who walks out the door. On my husband. On my kids. Dad always... I swore when Dad looked at me, he was seeing her. I'm better off just doing the rodeo thing. I'm better off if nobody needs me.”

“Katie,” he said, his voice rough. “I love you. That's a load of shit. You have to get out of your own way.”

“Easy for you—”

“Think real hard before you finish that sentence,” Connor said, his voice hard. “I know all about life kicking you in the balls. I know better than most. I would venture to say I know better than you. I also know that there's a point where you can't blame other people or even fate for the crap in your life. If you hold on to her too long, it's all you get.” He sighed heavily. “I almost lost Liss. And it wouldn't have been anyone's fault but mine.”

“But what if I—?”

“Who controls your life, Kate? Sure, none of us chose the parents we had. I didn't choose to lose Jessie. But you? You control you. If you don't want to leave, don't leave. If you want to be faithful to your husband, be faithful to your husband. If you want to have children, and you want to be a good mother, choose to do that. Don't you let people who abandoned us determine how happy you'll be. Don't you let them stop you from having love. And don't you ever let fear decide what you'll become.” He grabbed hold of her arms and looked her in the eye. “I don't care what you do. If you ride on the circuit and only come home off-season. If you marry that asshole Jack and have ten babies. As long as it makes you happy. Be happy.”

She swallowed, her throat so dry it felt as if she'd swallowed a handful of dust. “I'm scared.” It was a hard thing to admit, a hard thing to say. She'd lived so long thinking she was brave.

“That's okay. Me, too. I'm about to be a father. I don't know how to do that. But it isn't the fear that's the problem. It's what you do with it. It's whether or not you let it win.” He patted her shoulder and looked at her hard.

“Connor,” she said.

“Yes?”

“You do know how to do that. How to be a father. Listen to all the things I just told you. About how I never felt unloved. You're going to be great.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Thanks. I needed to hear that. But if I'm going to listen to you, you need to listen to me. You aren't anyone but you, Kate. Remember that.”

She nodded slowly and watched him walk out of the barn.

She didn't feel relieved at all. In fact, she was starting to feel angry. He wasn't listening to her excuses. They were good excuses. They would keep her safe. They would keep her from getting hurt.

Like you aren't already hurt? You're in here crying like an orphaned calf.

Yes. She was. But pretending to be tough, shutting out every emotion, every deep desire, meant that she couldn't get her heart broken. If she didn't pay attention to her heart, what would she care if it was, anyway?

But she did care. Right now she did, because she felt like she was dying. Maybe it was just too late for all this self-protection. Maybe this was as bad as it got.

This misery of her own making was possibly the most painful thing she'd ever experienced.

Did she love him? She was afraid to answer that question. Connor was right—she could control herself. She could control what she did. And for the majority of her life that had meant protecting herself. As life had raged on around her without asking what it should or shouldn't do, as people had been torn from her life in various different ways, she had built up walls around herself, stronger, higher. Had honed herself down to the basics. Tough. Hardworking. Loyal. Those things were simple; those things were sure.