Taken Home (Lone Star Burn) (18 page)

“What happened?”

“I can’t tell you.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will you call me?”

“If I can.”

Chelle opened her mouth, closed it, then said quietly, “You make it very difficult to believe in you.”

He kissed her lips with tenderness and said, “It’s better for both of us if you don’t.”

With that, he walked away from Chelle and asked one of the men for a ride to the airport. He would use the time on the flight back to California to distance himself from his emotions. He wouldn’t let himself wonder if Chelle was upset.

He was going back to face his past. He would either beat it or lose himself to it. Either way, it was not something he could explain to Chelle.

Chapter Seventeen

Chelle sat on the back bumper of a truck and watched Mason leave with one of her cousins. She didn’t want to get upset in front of her family and friends, but she couldn’t help herself. She wiped away tears as they flowed down her cheeks.

David sat down beside her and handed her a napkin. “I can drive you home if you want.”

Chelle wiped her face and shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Why can’t anything stay perfect? Does life always have to even out? You’re not allowed real joy unless it’s followed by a kick to the crotch?”

“You picked a tough man to fall in love with, Chelle. Seems like that man has a dark past. One he tries to hide.”

With a deep, shaking breath, Chelle calmed herself enough that she no longer needed the napkin. “I don’t care what he did.” She sniffed. “Well, unless he killed people. I couldn’t get over that. But I get that he made bad choices. He told me. And he told me why. He’s a good man, David. He’s just lost.”

“Where’d he go?”

“He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Is he coming back?”

“He didn’t say.”

“You deserve better than that, Chelle.”

“You know that corny expression about someone being someone else’s world? I never understood that until I met Mason. When I’m with him everything is different, better. Nothing else matters; I know I’m where I belong. A feeling that strong can’t be wrong, can it?”

David sighed. “When it comes to love, I wouldn’t say I’m qualified to give advice.”

Chelle turned to face David. “Lucy’s still engaged, isn’t she? Did you tell her how you feel about her?”

David tipped his Stetson lower. “She made her choice.”

“So that’s it? You’re giving up without a fight?”

David shrugged. “I respect her decision.”

Chelle hopped off the back of the truck. “I didn’t take you for a quitter, David. Go tell her you love her, and see just how happy she is or isn’t with that fiancé of hers.”

David pushed his hat back. “I might do that, Chelle. And if Mason doesn’t come back, he’s a damn fool.”

Chelle straightened her shoulders and said, “He’ll be back,” with confidence.

David headed back to help the men clear away the trash from the party. Sarah and Melanie took his place beside Chelle.

Sarah asked cheerfully, “Where’d you hide Mason? We’re thinking about making a bonfire.”

Chelle let out a long, sad breath. “He had to go back to California.”

Looking concerned, Melanie asked, “Did you two have a fight?”

“No. There was something he needed to handle back home.”

Sarah put a hand on Chelle’s shoulder. “He’s a senator. He probably gets called back for all kinds of emergencies.”

“True, but he didn’t want me to go back with him.”

Sarah waved her other hand in the air with flair. “He was being considerate. Your whole family is here and celebrating with you. He probably didn’t want to take you away from that. Did he say when he would be back?”

Chelle felt her eyes tearing up again and blinked quickly. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Oh boy,” Melanie said. “Here come your parents.”

Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse.

Her father pinned her down with a look that told her he wasn’t pleased. “Did I see Mason leave?”

“Yes, Dad. There was an emergency back in California.”

“Must have been something mighty important for him to go without even saying good-bye or thanking anyone.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and she hastily wiped it away.

Her mother linked her arm with her husband’s. “Let’s not discuss anything more with everyone watching. We’re all set to go home. Chelle, would you like to ride with us?”

Chelle thought about how she’d feel sitting in her room all by herself and shook her head. “No, I’ll be along later.”

As her parents walked away, she heard her father say, “I’ll kill the bastard if he hurts my baby.”

Charles and Tony walked over to join them, and Charles asked, “Did Mason leave?”

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She stormed up to Charles and snapped, “Yes, he did. He left. Don’t ask me why. Don’t ask if he’s coming back. I don’t know. All I do know is that whatever happens between Mason and me is none of your damn business, Charles.”

He looked at Melanie, who blushed and made an apologetic face. “I may have told her you were worried about how it would work out.”

Chelle continued her rant. “Mason has been nothing but good to me. I don’t know what awful thing he did to you, Charles, but I thought you were good friends. You made him feel awful about coming here with me. And that wasn’t right. I may not have known him as long as you have, but I understand him a whole lot better than you. He wouldn’t leave me unless it was something very important. I believe that. And if you don’t, could you all kindly keep your thoughts to yourself?”

Tony raised his hands in front of his chest in mock surrender. Sarah elbowed her husband in reprimand.

Melanie linked her hand with Charles’s. She looked up at him and said, “She’s right, you know. It’s none of our business. Charles, you said yourself you were a different man before you met me. Love might do the same for Mason. You don’t know what’s in his heart.”

Charles pulled his fiancée into his arms. “I spoke to Mason while we were working on the roof. I’m not proud of some of the things I said to him yesterday, and I told him that. He has been a very good friend to me for a very long time. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at Chelle. If that’s not love, it’s damn close to it. But I don’t know if it will be enough.”

Melanie asked, “Enough to do what?”

Chelle answered, “For him to put the past behind him. I know how his mother died, Charles. He told me.”

Charles added, “Then you know it shaped who he is. He doesn’t let anyone get close. He bolted today. If he doesn’t call you, it may be over.”

Chelle heard the warning, but she trusted what her heart was telling her. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“I’ve seen him—” Charles started to say, but Chelle cut him off.

“To
me
. He wouldn’t do that to me. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to finish helping everyone clean up, and then I’m going home.”

When Chelle finally walked up the steps of her parents’ home, it was late, but the lights were still on inside. Instead of going inside she sat on the porch swing and tried not to succumb to the doubt that was nipping at her heels.

Mason hadn’t called her.

She’d tried to call him, but he hadn’t answered.

She sat on the swing, telling herself he had a good reason for both.

The screen door opened, and her parents came out to the porch. They each took a seat on either side of her.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Chelle said when the silence became unbearable.

“You don’t have to,” her mother answered. “But we love you, and we’re not going anywhere.”

Chelle wiped at one of her eyes. “Dad, I know you want to say something about Mason, but please don’t.”

Her father put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “I fought in a war and it was hell, but knowing that you’re hurting and not knowing what to do—that’s a different kind of torture.”

Chelle reached out and took her mother’s hand in hers. “There is something you could do. You could listen to a story and not judge me or Mason too harshly for it.”

Over the next hour, she gave her parents a G-rated version of how she’d met Mason, how their engagement had come to be, and all the reasons she’d fallen in love with him. She told them about his journey and how Charles thought it might stop him from being able to love anyone. She ended her story by telling them how much she missed him and how she refused to believe she was wrong about him.

“So you were never actually engaged?” her father asked gruffly.

Chelle looked down at the diamond still on her finger. “I guess not, Dad.”

Her mother gave her hand one final squeeze and suggested they all go to bed. Her father balked and started to say they should talk about what Chelle had shared.

Chelle’s mother shook her head, encouraged her husband to join her at the door, and said, “Chelle doesn’t need our advice; she needs that man of hers to call. And he will. Our daughter is no fool. Men, on the other hand, take the long way around what should be a short road.”

Mason sat with his head in his hands in the private waiting room of a luxury rehab center in Malibu. He could hear the ocean waves crashing against the shore below, but they didn’t soothe him. The last forty-eight hours had been hell, but if Ruby allowed herself to be admitted, it would be worth it.

Millie was a saint. By the time Mason had shown up, she’d already settled Ruby into bed and flushed every pill in her house down the toilet. She’d also arranged for a doctor to visit under a nondisclosure agreement to check that she hadn’t taken more than the two pills she’d claimed to have taken.

Millie had left soon after Mason had arrived, but she returned a while later with a change of clothes for Mason and some toiletries. She didn’t ask him about his relationship with Ruby, and he didn’t offer her the history. She was—blissfully, thankfully—as professional as always.

When Ruby finally woke, she was embarrassed, then angry. She told him to leave several times, but he didn’t. He told her he wasn’t going anywhere until she agreed to check herself into rehab.

In an act of defiance, Ruby got shit-faced drunk on the alcohol neither he nor Millie had thought to dispose of. She flirted with him, yelled at him, then cried through most of the second night he was there. He held her and listened to her pour out her anguish until she fell asleep against him on the couch, and then he moved to sit in a chair across from her. When she woke the next morning, she met his eyes, and he knew she was ready.

He made arrangements for her stay at the very discreet beachside center and made sure they weren’t followed by the press. The lack of paparazzi had been a relief in some ways, but in others it reaffirmed Ruby’s reasons for feeling desperate. Interest in her was waning. Hopefully, her newest project would change that. She’d be fine as long as she was getting treatment.

One of the staff members came out to inform him that she was checked in and he could go. Mason stood and looked at the door Ruby had gone through.
Good luck. It’s up to you now, Ruby.

He turned his phone back on when he exited the building and listened to the messages from Millie. She’d moved around as many meetings as she could, but he had some the next day that were unavoidable. She also said there was a matter she didn’t want to discuss over the phone, but it was important enough that he should drop into the office that day to see her.

He hadn’t slept in two days and felt like shit, but if Millie said it was important, it was. He drove directly to his office.

As soon as Millie saw him she said, “You look like—”

“I know,” he said tiredly. “Ruby’s in, though, and that’s what’s important.”

“She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

In an uncharacteristic admission, Mason said, “I did it for me as much as for her.”

“Well, you did good.” She made a pained face. “I wish I didn’t have bad news for you. This came in the mail today. It’s a picture of you and Ruby leaving her house. It came with a nasty little note about how you deserve to be exposed for what you are, a man with no morals and no respect for women. I don’t know who sent it, but it’s already beginning to show up online.”

She turned her computer so he could see his name in the headlines of a news blog. “Senator Thorne Leaves Small-Town Fiancée to Party with Ruby Skye. Next Governor? Not Anymore.”

“That’s gossip, not news,” Mason snapped. He scanned the rest of the article. “Did any of the articles mention where I took Ruby today?”

Millie shook her head and turned her monitor back to its original position. “No, but this is damaging, Mason. That photo gave your opponents a human-interest story that paints you as a heartless bastard. You’re losing voter support and fast.”

“I don’t care about the polls.” Mason punched the wall with the side of his fist. If Chelle saw that photo, she’d be devastated.
Even when I’m doing something right, I’m fucking something up.

“You need to. Ruby has been publicly intoxicated on several occasions lately. Linking your name with hers feeds into the image of you as someone who doesn’t take anything seriously. Not your engagement. Not your seat in the state senate. Nothing. It undermines your water bill. I’ve had three senators call this morning to pull their support. It’s not good. Is there any way you could do a press conference with Ms. Landon? Make up some reason you went to see Ruby? Maybe a stomach virus? If you can get Chelle to stand up and say that photo is a whole lot of nothing, the buzz surrounding it will die.”

“I can’t ask Chelle to do that. I won’t bring her into this mess, and I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone the truth about what I’ve been doing with Ruby. No. I’ll handle this.”

Millie folded her hands on her desktop. “What are you going to do?”

Chapter Eighteen

When Mason didn’t call the first night, she told herself whatever emergency he’d needed to go back to deal with had likely kept him nonstop busy. That didn’t stop her from lying awake all night waiting to hear from him, but it gave her some comfort as she fought back the doubt that was building within her.

Charles was wrong. Mason hadn’t bolted. He’d gone back to deal with something.

Both Sarah and Melanie had called her the following day and tried to lure her out of her parents’ home, but she didn’t want to see either of them. She didn’t want to hear their theories on why he hadn’t found five minutes yet to call and tell her he’d made it back okay. Or tell her he missed her. Anything.

She helped her parents organize their tax papers, filed invoices they’d paid, and tried not to think about Mason. She knew what her mother would say if she asked her for advice. Mason would either call or he wouldn’t; no amount of worrying over it would change that.

The second night without Mason was harder to handle than the first. She stopped checking her phone for texts, stopped picking it up every two minutes to make sure she hadn’t missed a call. She included him in her prayers as she always did, but this time asked for the strength not to give up. She refused to believe she was wrong about him.

Yet when she thought back to the first night they’d met, she acknowledged he could say all the right things and not mean them. His false declaration of love for her had been a testament to his theatrical training. He could talk a weatherman into predicting sunshine on a rainy day. All he had to do was flash that Hollywood smile of his, and people wanted to believe him.

Was it wise to trust anything a man like that said?

Who am I kidding? He didn’t say he loved me. He didn’t ask me to wait for him.

He told me he didn’t do relationships.

I didn’t want to believe him.

Flashes of their time together came back to her as she lay, still dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, on her twin-size bed, missing him. From the way he’d introduced her to the pleasures of being with a man to how proud he’d looked when her father’s damn horse hadn’t killed him—there was not one moment of their time together Chelle regretted. Not one caress or one shared joke she would go back and change. Being with Mason had been like stepping into a fairy tale, albeit an X-rated one.

How do you give up on something like that?

A knock on her bedroom door startled her, and she sat up.

“Mind if we come in?” her mother asked, opening the door a few inches.

“That’s fine,” Chelle answered automatically. Her stomach did nervous flips when her father and mother both came to stand beside her bed. Her father had a piece of paper in one hand. It looked like a printout of a news article.

Oh my God.
Chelle brought her hand to her mouth in horror.
Mason’s dead.
She scooted to the edge of her bed and blinked back tears born from real fear. “What is it? What happened?”

“Your mother and I didn’t know if we should show you this, but we decided it was better for you to hear it from us than someone in town.”

Chelle clasped her hand over her heart. “Just say it.”

Her father handed her the paper. Chelle took it and watched her mother move closer to hug her father. They both looked so concerned Chelle thought she might throw up. The first thing that jumped out on the page was Mason helping Ruby Skye into the backseat of a limo. It was the type of photo that looked as if it had been taken from the bushes without anyone being aware. Chelle read the headline twice and tried to read the article: “Senator Thorne Caught Ruby-Red-Handed.” Her hands were shaking too much to allow her to read much more than the first paragraph, which accused Mason of returning to his wild partying days. They called him a liar. A cheat. Someone who had no respect for family values. “Is this really who you want representing you?” the article asked.

Mason had left her at their engagement party to meet up with his ex-girlfriend? She didn’t want to believe it was true, but the evidence of where he’d been was right there in full color. She crumpled the paper in her hand and fought to breathe.
He could have told me. What happened to not wanting to hurt me?

Her mother sat beside her on the bed and rubbed her back, soothing her as she’d always done. “I’m so sorry, Chelle. I didn’t want to believe it when I first saw it, but it’s all over the news.”

Her father didn’t say anything, and for that, Chelle was grateful. She knew what he was thinking, but if he’d said it, she probably would have broken down in tears.

Chelle threw the paper on the floor.
It
was
too good to be true.
She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “At least now I know why he’s not calling.”

“Oh, honey,” her mother cooed.

Chelle blinked back tears she refused to shed. “I’ll be okay. The whole thing was wrong from the start. Who gets engaged and then tries to date? My mistake was forgetting it wasn’t real.”

Her father made an angry growling noise, then walked out of the room. Her mother stayed and continued to rub Chelle’s back. “It didn’t look like a mistake when I saw you with him. If he really did run back to California to party with that . . . that woman, then he’s the one who made a mistake, and it’s one he’ll probably spend the rest of his life regretting.”

Chelle sniffed. “If? Mom, that photo is pretty damning.”

Her mother bent, picked the paper off the floor, and smoothed it over her lap. She studied the photo. “I stared at this photo long and hard before we brought it in to show you. I don’t care what the article says. Everyone knows you can’t believe half of what is in the news. There’s no denying he left you to go to her, but he’s not happy about it. He doesn’t look like a man who just spent a wild night with that woman. He’s miserable. And sad. Take a look for yourself.”

Chelle glanced over and said coldly, “Or hungover.”

“Maybe,” her mother said gently and laid the paper down on the bed beside her.

“Mom, he hasn’t called me. Not once. Not a text. Not an e-mail. Nothing. It’s time for me to admit I am not as good a judge of character as I like to imagine I am.”

Smoothing her hands down the front of her jeans, her mother said, “Let yourself cry it out tonight, baby. But tomorrow morning you get up nice and early, and you go for a trail ride with your dad and me. Then we’ll come back, have a nice lunch, and decide where you want to fly off to next.”

That did bring tears to Chelle’s eyes. “Don’t you think I’ve made enough of a mess of everything already? Maybe it’s better if I just stay here and work on the ranch like we talked about.”

Her mother put a hand beneath her chin and turned her face so their eyes met. “Chelle Susan Landon, you will do no such thing. You think Mason is the only man out there? He’s not. He’s also not the reason you wanted to leave here. Your dad and I know you don’t want the same life we’ve had. We don’t need you to be a carbon copy of us. What matters is that you’re happy. Where are your cards with destinations on them? Pick another. You went riding into the wind, baby, and you fell off. What did I always tell you about that?”

Tears were streaming down Chelle’s cheeks, but they were the result of a complicated mix of feelings. There were some things she knew she needed to let go of, and other things she was so grateful would always be there. “How did you get so wise, Mom?”

After a final hug, her mother stood. “I guess it’s because I had a wonderful mother who understood that I fell in love with a diamond in the rough. Your father came back from Vietnam an angry man. It took time and patience to work through that. She made sure I knew the difference between being someone’s doormat and being someone’s rock. I love your father and the life we’ve made together, but I could survive if he left me. That’s what I want for you, Chelle. Don’t be afraid to love with all your heart, but know that no matter what happens, it doesn’t change who you are.”

Her mother closed the door behind her. Chelle lay back down without turning off the light. She spent a good amount of time staring at the photo of Mason and Ruby before she eventually conceded that the answers she sought couldn’t be found there.
Why don’t you call, Mason? Even if it’s just to tell me it’s over?
She rummaged beside her bed for the present Sarah and Melanie had given her. She closed her eyes, reached inside, and pulled out a card.

Niagara Falls.
At least my tears won’t show there.

She fell asleep with the article and the card tucked beneath her pillow.

The next morning, Chelle woke to the sound of her cell phone ringing. The sun was streaming through the window, evidence she’d slept later than she normally did. The caller had a California area code. Chelle sat straight up in her bed and answered in a rush. “Mason?”

“Am I speaking with Chelle Landon?” a woman asked in a businesslike tone.

“Yes,” Chelle answered, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“I’m Millie Capri, Senator Thorne’s administrative assistant.”

Oh my God. He wouldn’t have his secretary tell me it’s over, would he?
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Capri?”

“Senator Thorne is giving a statement to the press at four o’clock this afternoon. It would be a huge benefit to him if you were there by his side.”

Chelle shook her head in disbelief. “Are you serious? Or is this some kind of joke?”

“Considering the negative attention the press has given him regarding his association with Ruby Skye, your presence would go a long way in diffusing the rumor that he’s cheating on you.”

Chelle’s breath caught in her throat. “Are you saying he’s not?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny what Senator Thorne does in his personal life, but I can tell you the rumor may cost him not only the passing of the bill he’s been working on, but also his run for governor.”

Chelle’s temper began to rise. “Give me one good reason why I should care about either.”

Mason’s secretary fell silent for a moment, then said, “If you love him, get your ass on a flight out here. He needs you.” She cleared her throat and in a professional voice said, “I can make the flight arrangements if you’d like.”

Chelle held the phone away from her before bringing it back to her ear. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “If Mason wants me out there, he can ask me himself.”

In a no-nonsense tone, Mrs. Capri said, “He won’t, and he doesn’t know I made this call. I’ll text you the information you’ll need when you arrive. This number is my private cell. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

The line went dead.

She dug the photo of Mason and Ruby out from under her pillow and frowned down at it before waving it at the powers above.
Is this a test? What am I supposed to do with this?

Mason was sitting in his office, answering e-mails and phone calls. He was winning back support for his bill, but it was slow going—one excruciating negotiation at a time. He had to prove to his colleagues that voters would not see supporting the protection of the state’s water supply as an endorsement of the lascivious lifestyle he had reportedly ditched his small-town fiancée for.

He hung up the phone on his desk and left his hand on the receiver. He’d almost called Chelle once or twice—okay, maybe a hundred times—so far that day. He’d even started dialing her number once, then slammed the phone down. There was nothing to say, not yet.

If he called her and somehow convinced her he’d been with Ruby for reasons other than what was in the news, what then? She’d want to come to Sacramento to be with him, and he wouldn’t put her through the media storm that was swirling around him. Right now, he was being vilified while Chelle was a martyr people were proclaiming public sympathy for.

That could change in a flash.

The paparazzi loved to build people up only to tear them down. He wouldn’t let that happen to Chelle. He’d promised her that when they eventually did break up, he would do it in a way that would show her in a good light.

Well, he’d certainly done that. Photos of Chelle in Fort Mavis were popping up in the media. She was the poster child for good old-fashioned values. California was a progressive state, but even its citizens didn’t like the idea of a governor who spat on core American values like honesty and family.

Mason moved his hand to rub his tired eyes. The kindest thing he could do for Chelle would be to keep her as far removed from that insanity as possible.

His cell phone rang in his pocket. It was Charles. Mason let it ring through to his voice mail. He really didn’t want to hear Charles gloat about being right. Nor did he want to defend how he’d left or why he hadn’t called Chelle.

Mason had faced worse alone, and he knew he would survive this, too. At the end of the day, he wasn’t a hero; he was a survivor. Nothing less. Nothing more.

Chelle was better off without him.