Taken Home (Lone Star Burn) (17 page)

He asked the horse to walk and kept that in mind. He ignored the dance and focused on guiding the horse to where he wanted to go. The horse took off at a run, and Mason let him. He ran that horse down the path along the side of the barn, across the field, and back. When the horse began to slow, he pushed him to run more. Only when they came around the large barn for the second time did Mason ask the horse to drop down to a walk again.

And the horse did. Feeling exhilarated, Mason gave the horse a hearty pat on the neck and rode up beside Chelle’s father. “Are you saddling up?”

Roger’s face split into a smile for the first time that day. “Well, I’ll be damned. That horse may not need Tony Carlton after all.” He turned to his ranch hand. “Tack Checkers up for me. Looks like we’re going for a ride.”

After the ranch hand was out of earshot, Roger said, “I was sure I’d see you fall on your ass, son, but I’m glad you didn’t. Chelle needs a strong man she can respect. That doesn’t mean I agree with all the tomfoolery I’ve read about you in the press, but I’m sure that’s all behind you now.”

“Yes, sir,” Mason said, treating the man with more deference than he’d ever shown, even with his own father. There was something about Roger that made a man want to stand straighter around him.

“Roger Wilton Landon, tell me you did not put my future son-in-law on a horse you said was dangerous.” Chelle’s mother’s voice rang out from the porch steps.

Mason choked back a laugh and avoided Roger’s eyes. They’d gotten to a good place he didn’t want to spoil.

“Oh my God, Dad. He could have been killed.” Chelle closed the distance between them.

Roger’s horse arrived, and he swung himself into the saddle. “Don’t get yourselves all lathered up. In fact, since you two are out here, do you want to join us? I thought we’d ride down to the summer pasture.”

Chelle looked up at Mason. “Are you all right?”

Roger made a disgusted sound. “Don’t coddle the man. He’s a fine rider.”

“He is?” Chelle asked in awe. A huge smile spread across his face. “Of course he is.” She turned to her mother. “Mom? Do you want to go?”

Bryn waved a finger at her husband, but nodded. “You are so lucky he didn’t get hurt. Come on, Chelle. Clover will be happy to see you.” She looked back at her husband. “We’ll be two minutes. I want everyone still alive when I come back.”

Chelle and her mother led their horses into the barn while two ranch hands rushed to help them. Roger cleared his throat and said, “If she’s still mad at me later, I’ll apologize. You remember that, son. Pride isn’t strength; it’s weakness. There’s no shame in saying you’re sorry so you don’t have to sleep in the barn.”

“Yes, sir,” Mason responded automatically while he tried to figure out why Roger’s words had touched him so deeply. Mason wanted to believe people could be as genuinely good as Chelle’s family appeared.

He wanted to, but believing wasn’t his strong suit.

Chapter Fifteen

Later that night, Chelle and Mason sat side by side on the porch swing. Chelle couldn’t remember ever having a better day in her life. She looked down at her hand laced through Mason’s and thought if she died right then, no undertaker would be able to wipe the smile off her face. “You survived meeting my parents,” Chelle said.

Mason tightened his grip on her hand. “It wasn’t hard. They’re nice people.”

Chelle chuckled. “Nice? My dad did everything but ask you for a blood sample at dinner.”

Mason smiled. “He wanted to make sure I was good enough for his daughter.”

“How did he get you up on that horse?” Chelle asked with a shake of her head.

“I chose it.”

“Dad should have told you he considered Fury dangerous.”

Mason shrugged. “Tango, and I would have gotten on him anyway.”

“Tango, is it? I don’t understand men sometimes. Was it really worth risking breaking your neck?”

“Yes,” Mason said simply.

Chelle laid her head on Mason’s shoulder. “I used to ride with my parents all the time when I was younger, but I haven’t in a while. I’m glad we did tonight.”

Mason turned his head and nuzzled her hair before saying, “Me too.”

“Where did you learn to ride? I pictured you growing up in a city.”

He shifted as if the topic of his past made him uncomfortable. “I did, but my parents wanted to prepare me for any role I might get in a movie.”

“Did you always know you wanted to be an actor?”

Mason was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t have a choice. My parents didn’t come from money. I don’t know what their finances were before I started working, but I don’t think they were very good. My mother used to say people would stop and stare at me when I was a baby. They’d tell her I was the most beautiful child they’d ever seen or that I belonged in commercials or on TV.”

“It must have been devastating for you when she died.”

Mason stared out into the darkness and said, “Yes. It was senseless, and it was difficult not to resent her for that.”

“You don’t think she killed herself, do you?”

Mason shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll never know. My mother was prone to depression, and she closely linked her identity to my success. If I was doing well, she was on top of the world. If I failed at something, she couldn’t handle it. She and my father wanted to control every decision I made, right down to what I wore each day. It was too much. That’s why I fired my father. I didn’t want to hate them, and I was starting to.”

“And then your mother died.”

“Yes.”

Chelle’s eyes filled with tears. “You must have felt responsible. You were too young to realize it wasn’t your fault.”

When Mason fell quiet, Chelle decided to change the subject. She didn’t want the dark cloud of the past to mar what she hoped had been an amazing day for him. “Tomorrow is going to be crazy. Most of the town will probably be at Mrs. Nicholson’s. Some will come because they want to congratulate us, and some because they’re curious. Either way, prepare yourself for a whole lot of handshaking.”

“I’m used to that,” Mason said with some humor.

Chelle rocked back and forth in silence, letting herself simply enjoy being next to Mason. What had started as a game at Sarah’s wedding had grown into something real. She could picture being married to Mason. It was easy enough to imagine herself standing beside him in Sacramento as well as raising children with him in Fort Mavis.

She let out a long, slow breath and admitted to herself that she had fallen completely, irreversibly in love with him. She loved how confident he was in public and how he let her see beyond that when they were alone. She loved how easily they could make each other laugh or turn each other on. She would have loved him even if he hadn’t known a horse from a donkey, but watching him bond with her father and the ranch hands was a little piece of heaven on earth.

Tracing the edge of Mason’s thumb with hers, Chelle said, “I’m sorry you and Charles are having issues. I get the feeling it’s over me, and I don’t want to come between you two.”

Mason lifted his arm, wrapped it around Chelle’s shoulders, and kissed her forehead. “I’ve certainly done enough to deserve his opinion of me.”

Chelle voiced what she knew he couldn’t. “But it hurts.”

He made a sound deep in his chest.

Chelle raised her head and said, “Melanie thinks Charles is afraid we’ve taken this game too far, but it’s not a game to me.”

Mason tensed beside her.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Mason, I love—”

Mason stood abruptly. “I have a few e-mails I need to answer before I zonk out tonight. Thank God for smartphones.” He whipped open the door to the house and said, “Good night.”

“Good night,” Chelle said sadly as she watched him retreat into the house without even kissing her good night. She sank deeper into the swing and closed her eyes.

She thought about his mother and how deeply he must have felt her loss. She wondered if that was why he’d lost touch with his father, and her heart went out to both of them. Death had a way of either bringing people together or driving them away from each other. Sarah had described how the latter had happened to her family after her little brother had drowned. So much guilt. So much pain.

Mason probably felt he didn’t deserve love. He was wrong.

She thought back to her first impression of him and how cocky he had come across. Like her town, Mason had layers. She believed with all her heart if she kept peeling them back, she would find a man who loved her as much as she loved him.

Once he stops running.

Mason paced his small bedroom in the Landon home. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He felt hot and cold at the same time and more than a little sick.

Chelle loves me.

I let this go too far. I’ve been selfish and refused to listen to any of Charles’s warnings. I told myself I could have what I wanted without anyone getting hurt.

The truth was in her eyes. Their engagement was real to her.

Fuck.

He’d told her it was temporary, and she’d agreed to those terms. Why did she have to take their relationship further than they’d agreed to go?

He rubbed his forehead in frustration.
Because she comes from a good family. Because she doesn’t understand there is no such thing as unicorns and happily ever afters.

He’d walked away because he hadn’t wanted to tell her he didn’t love her. He hadn’t wanted to disappoint her. The memory of the look in her eyes when he’d bolted for the house tore at him. She should have been angry. Instead, she’d had that damned sympathetic look on her face that he’d seen before—like she wanted to hug his pain away.

She’d looked at him the same way when he’d told her how his mother had died.
I don’t know why I told her anything.
Chelle had a way of getting him to open up about things he’d never discussed with anyone.

He should hate that about her, but he didn’t.

Being with her was fucking amazing. Whether it was walking into a party with her and knowing she was about to charm the socks off every person in the room, or waking up beside her and instantly feeling better about the day before him. Yes, they were a good match, in and out of bed, but that didn’t mean he was ready to vow to spend the rest of his life with her.

By falling in love with him, Chelle had ruined everything.

Mason sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. He couldn’t see any choice other than breaking it off with her. And soon. But not tomorrow. He couldn’t do that to her. Not in front of her family and the whole town.

I’ll do it back in Sacramento. Just like we had planned. Only I’ll find a way to make her think it was her idea.

He punched the bed beside him.

As much as he tried to fight it, the truth could not be denied. He didn’t want to break up with her. His gut twisted painfully at the idea of never seeing her again. What he wanted was a time machine that could take him back to before she’d said she loved him. Back to when he’d felt completely in control and had prided himself on his indifference.

I was happier as an asshole.

He shook his head.
That’s not true. I wasn’t happy. But I wasn’t this miserable, either.

Under any other circumstances he would have called Charles, but he didn’t want to hear his friend’s opinion on this problem.

He knew he needed to end it with Chelle before she fell harder for him.

He wanted to forget she’d said anything.

He flopped backward onto the bed.

Charles is right about one thing—I went too far.

Chapter Sixteen

It was hard not to worry a little when Mason joined her family for breakfast and took a seat without giving her a good-morning kiss. She told herself it was simply because he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable in front of her family, but he was also having difficulty looking her in the eye. She hadn’t known him long, but she’d spent enough time with him to be able to read his mood.

The kitchen was overflowing with relatives who couldn’t wait until the party to meet Mason. He smiled as he greeted each of them, but she knew that smile. It was the one he used with the public. She called it his game face. Men accepted it, women fawned over it, but Chelle knew it was an act.

When their eyes met across the kitchen and he flashed that fake bright smile at her, she knew something was definitely wrong. There wasn’t time to speak to him privately, though. Her parents’ house was a bustle of preparation and congratulations.

Before she knew it, she and Mason were in a truck they’d borrowed from her parents and were heading down the driveway. Mason looked perfectly at home driving the twenty-year-old Ford. Chelle reached out, took Mason’s hand in hers, and gave him directions to Mrs. Nicholson’s house.

He frowned, then turned his head to meet her eyes. The torment Chelle saw there tore at her heart.
I shouldn’t have brought up his mother last night. I put that look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said gently, her eyes shining with tears.

He groaned and gave her hand a squeeze. “Don’t be. I’m an ass.”

Chelle chuckled. “Sometimes.”

He laughed with her and brought her hand up to his lips. “You could have hesitated a little before agreeing.”

Chelle raised her head and met his eyes again. “Your ego can take it.”

He cocked an eyebrow in concession, then his expression became more serious. “Everything will be perfect today, Chelle. I’ll make sure it is.”

“I’m not worried.”

His expression darkened again, and he seemed to want to say more, but they arrived at Mrs. Nicholson’s house and parked beside a slew of other trucks.

One of Chelle’s cousins was beside them instantly, telling Mason where the men were assembling their tools and equipment. Mason glanced back at her, and Chelle forced herself to smile and wave. Whatever he wanted to tell her would likely have to wait until they flew back to Sacramento in the morning.

Sarah appeared at her side, wide awake and as chipper as usual. “What a beautiful day. I love Fort Mavis. We don’t have anything like this in Rhode Island. What an incredible way to turn a celebration into something that benefits the community. How can you stand being away from here?”

Chelle looked around before answering, “It’s surprisingly easier than you’d think. Don’t get me wrong—I love it here, but I need more. I enjoy meeting people I don’t know and seeing things I’ve never seen. I like getting lost in a new city and trying foods I’ve never even heard of. These last two weeks have been . . . magical.”

Sarah nodded toward Mason, who was donning a tool belt and climbing up a ladder to join several other men on the roof. “That might also have something to do with who you’ve spent your time with.”

Chelle blushed. “I can’t argue with that. Mason is everything I’ve always wanted in a man. He’s funny. He’s kind. He’s amazing in bed. Even my parents like him.”

Sarah gave Chelle a quick hug. “Look at you. You go off to California to meet your fake fiancé and come back with a real one.”

Melanie joined them with a yawn. “Jace was so excited to come and help out today, he woke us up at five.” She looked Chelle over. “How did dinner go last night?”

Chelle watched Mason help strip the roof of the old shingles. “Better than I dared hope. He got along so well with my parents that we all went for a trail ride before bed.”

“That’s great,” Melanie said slowly. “I’m glad Charles is up there next to Mason. I know he feels badly about yesterday.”

“He should,” Chelle volleyed back.

Sarah put a hand on her hip. “What did my brother do now?”

Melanie made a face, then admitted, “He had it out with Mason over Chelle. His heart is in the right place, but he could have been gentler with his approach.”

“Mason has been nothing but wonderful to me,” Chelle said firmly.

Sarah cut in. “Charles will just have to understand that love happens. If Mason and Chelle want to make their fake engagement real, he should be happy for them.”

Melanie flashed a look at Chelle. “Did something change since yesterday? Did Mason actually say he wanted the engagement to be a real one?”

Chelle stuck her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and looked away. “Not exactly.”

“Did he say he loves you?” Melanie pushed.

Chelle pursed her lips in anger. She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. She and Melanie both knew he hadn’t.

“He has to. Why would he be here if he didn’t?” Sarah asked.

Melanie pointed across the yard to the news crew filming from the other side of the street. “Charles said Mason has been doing really well in the polls since he’s made a big deal out of being engaged to a small-town girl. His advisers had been telling him to clean up his image, and being with Chelle is helping him do that.”

Chelle shook her head. “Mason told my father he’s not running for the senate again.”

In a slightly apologetic tone, Melanie added, “There have been rumors Mason could run for governor. They say the only thing holding him back is his reputation. He could be using you, Chelle. I don’t want to believe he’s capable of anything like that, but he sure jumped at the idea of pretending to be engaged. Men don’t do that. Not men without an agenda, anyway.”

Chelle’s hands went cold, and she brought them both to her mouth. Could Mason be using her? Every fiber of her being said no. Mason paused from pulling off shingles. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, then turned and sought her out in the crowd. Chelle waved at him, and he waved back. This time, his smile was the special one he only gave her.

“Mason would never do that.” With that, Chelle walked away from her friends toward where the women were setting up for the party that would follow.

She heard Sarah say, “He might love her.”

She wished she’d missed Melanie’s response: “But what if he doesn’t?”

Mason downed an ice-cold beer and crushed the can in his hand. He laid it on the table beside the heaping plate of ribs Chelle had brought him. Hours of manual labor and his interactions with the men of Fort Mavis had left him feeling better about everything.

No one looked at him like they feared he would sleep with their wives. They didn’t throw his past in his face. They cared that he’d worked as hard as they had and that he’d done right by one of the women of their town. Their approval of him filled him with a pride he couldn’t explain. He liked who he was in that crazy little town.

He’d lost count of how many people had told him he was a lucky bastard to be marrying a woman like Chelle. All day long, he’d heard stories about her, from when she’d hidden the class turtle in her pocket because she’d thought he missed his friends in the pond to how she’d cried the day she’d decided not to go to college in Boston.

She brought her own plate of food to the spot beside him and sat down with a smile and a tired sigh. “All this celebrating is hard work, but Mrs. Nicholson has a new roof, no one died in the process, and there is still beer in the cooler. Today’s a success.”

Mason leaned over and kissed her warmly. She brought both hands up to frame his face and kissed him back.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” someone said.

Chelle laughed and broke the kiss off. “Family. What can you do?”

Mason looked around at all the people who were smiling and cheering, and his chest constricted painfully. He gazed back down at Chelle and thought,
I want this to be real. I want to love her.

Mason grabbed Chelle by the shoulders and kissed her with all the pent-up emotions running through him. There was nothing standing between him and what he wanted: a future with Chelle. Why couldn’t he let himself go and have the kind of faith in her that she had in him?

A hand squeezed one of his shoulders tightly, and her father’s voice boomed, “There’ll be plenty of time for that after the wedding.”

Mason lifted his head and smiled unapologetically at Roger. “You did say you wanted grandchildren.”

A hush fell over the crowd as they waited to hear Roger’s response. He said, “You ever hear of a shotgun wedding? Around here, not all the grooms make it to the altar.” He winked.

“Dad,” Chelle said and rolled her eyes.

Mason chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”

Music began to play, and everyone’s attention moved from Chelle and Mason to the grassy dance floor. Mason pulled Chelle over to sit on his lap. He didn’t want to lose her. If that meant making his bond with her legal, that’s what he would do. “We need to talk.”

She studied his face for a minute. “About?”

“About us. Let’s go for a drive tonight. Just you and me.”

With her arms wrapped around his neck, Chelle kissed him lightly. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Mason’s phone rang. He recognized the number as Ruby’s, but didn’t answer. He’d have to explain to Ruby he couldn’t be her arm candy anymore. There was only one woman he wanted to be with, and she needed to hear him say what he’d been too afraid to admit until then.

Chelle stood and pulled on Mason’s hand. “Come dance with me.” There was a slow country ballad playing.

He stood and twirled her before him. “Absolutely, they’re playing our song.”

“Do we have a song?”

He led her toward the dance floor. “We do now.”

After several songs, Mason and Chelle conceded they were both getting tired. Hand in hand, they were walking back to their table when Mason’s phone rang again. He wouldn’t have answered it, but it was Millie.

“Mason, I would never interrupt your weekend, but I received a call from Ruby Skye, and she sounded . . . out of it. She was crying and talking crazy. I told her I’d try to get in touch with you. I’ve never heard her like this before. I didn’t know what to do except call you.”

“You did the right thing, Millie,” Mason said abruptly and hung up. The wonder of the day crashed and shattered around him in a million irreparable shards. No matter how far he ran, his past would find him and pull him down.

Chelle stepped in front of him and asked, “What’s wrong, Mason?”

He answered absently, “I don’t know. I need to make a call, Chelle. I’m sorry.” He walked away from her without saying more. He knew she was hurt that he had closed her out of what was going on, but he didn’t want her to be part of this.

When Ruby answered, she slurred his name. “Mason.”

“Ruby, what did you take? Where are you?”

“I’m at my house in Malibu. Everything is falling apart, Mason, and I don’t know what to do. The pills don’t help. I took one. Maybe two. I just want to sleep, but they’re not working.”

“What happened?”

“I came home from the shoot in Australia, and Brady was in bed with my housekeeper. The fucking housekeeper. I threw them both out. Now I’m all alone.” She started to sob. “I can’t sleep when I’m alone.”

“Ruby, I’m calling someone to go over there.”

“No,” she cried out. “No one can know about this. I could lose everything. I just landed a movie deal. Those don’t come easy anymore. They say I’m too old for many of the parts. I’m thirty, not ninety. Mason, you can’t tell anyone about this. Promise me you won’t.”

Mason clenched his hand at his side. “I promise. What do you want me to do?”

“Can you come over?”

“I’m in Texas, and I’m engaged.”

Ruby started crying again. “I don’t want to fuck you, but I can’t be alone tonight. I’m afraid if I am, I won’t be here tomorrow. Have you ever felt that way, Mason? You start thinking maybe it would be better if you fell asleep and never woke up?”

“Shit, Ruby. I’m sending Millie over. Don’t do anything.”

“Millie won’t leak it to the press, will she?”

“Millie? Millie’s a vault.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t have anyone else, Mason.”

“I’ll be there before morning. Let Millie in when she rings you. Her next call will be to the police if you don’t.”

“I will. Thank you, Mason. You’re really coming?”

“Yes,” Mason said tersely and hung up. Guilt from the past swirled within him. He looked back at Chelle, who was anxiously waiting for him to return to her. He couldn’t tell her about Ruby. If she told anyone and it somehow got to the press, it might send Ruby off the edge she was already teetering on.

Ruby wasn’t exaggerating how she felt. He’d known her long enough to believe the desperation in her voice. She was hitting rock bottom, a scary place to go alone. He remembered that feeling all too well, and he’d be damned if he’d stand by and do nothing while she followed in his mother’s footsteps.

Chelle had said his mother’s death hadn’t been his fault. His head knew she was right, but that didn’t stop him from hating his mother for dying, himself for not knowing how depressed she’d become, and his father for not saving his family from the dark path they’d all gone down.

He cared about Ruby, but that wasn’t the only thing that was driving his decision to go to her. He needed to get her the help he wished he’d gotten his mother. No, it wouldn’t change anything that had happened, but that didn’t matter. The past had risen up and was tearing into him again.

He looked around at the people who had welcomed him into their town, and wondered what they’d think of him if they knew the self-destructive lifestyle he’d lived, how close he’d come to being Ruby.

Chelle thought she loved him, but she didn’t know this side of him. She belonged in a place like Fort Mavis, surrounded by people who gathered for scrapbooking parties. She deserved better than whatever he would find at Ruby’s house. Better than him.

He took Chelle aside and said, “Something urgent came up. I have to go back to California tonight.”

She took his hand in hers. “I’ll go with you.”

He shook his head and gently removed his hand from hers. “I need to do this alone.”