Wishing on a Rodeo Moon (Women of Character) (3 page)

He
opened the atrium door into his living room and stood aside. "The phone is
over by the windows."

He saw
her look around his house ― the place he had bought after she’d
left him. Jake was proud of his home, the hand-hewn beams, the natural, light
colored woods. He had spent a lot of time making it comfortable. He thought he
saw interest in her gaze, but then tiredness seemed to shut down her face.

Thinking
fast, he followed behind her. "It’s too bad this won’t work
out," he said softly. "I, uh, I’m kind of strapped for cash
right now. I thought it would be an ideal arrangement." Jake thought she
hesitated, her hands on the wheels, then she moved on into the room. The late
afternoon sun spilled through the casement windows and touched her. Jake was
close enough to see that her knuckles were white from the way she was clenching
the wheels. She turned the chair so her back was to him, and quickly picked up
the phone.

As she
began to punch in numbers, Jake knew he had nothing to lose. She was prepared
to get out as fast as she could. He had scared her, maybe brought back the bad
memories of that night, not that she would admit to it. Tye had never been one
to admit to anything she felt was a weakness. She covered it up with bravado
and brash nerve. Once she set her mind on a course, there was no persuading her
otherwise. But now, Jake knew he had to persuade her to stay, for her own sake.

He
stepped forward, noting the soft curve of her cheek, the swing of her naturally
blond hair spilling past her blue, blue eyes. She was the kind of woman a man
could lose himself in and not care if he ever surfaced. Once, Jake had almost
let himself get lost in her. His gaze dropped to the empty space where her
right leg should be. He swallowed hard. Pain lanced through him, and he
didn’t want to feel it. He didn’t want to feel connected to a woman
who had thrown his love in his face.

In his
mind, Jake replayed the night of the rodeo accident. Once again he saw the bull
falling on her. The bull had been old and just died. It was a scene he would
never forget. He’d gone to see her once in the hospital, though she
didn’t know that. He hadn’t gone back. Somehow, he didn’t
think she’d want to see him and be reminded of that terrible night.

He felt
anger well in him. Her lifestyle had finally caught up with her ― the
wild living, the parties. Jake read the papers. He shook his head in disgust.
The bottom line was he’d wanted forever with Tye, but all she’d
wanted was new excitement down the road. It seemed she had gotten what she
wanted, in spades.

Returning
to the present, Jake watched Tye’s eyes, saw the overwhelming pain, the
sad defeat. His gut clenched. Despite his bitterness he knew he could not let
her leave. Something told him she needed this place. He had promised Ben he
would help her, and dammit, he wouldn’t go back on that promise. Before
long it would be dark, and it was an hour’s drive to the center, not
counting how long it would take to get a driver back out here. No matter where
she was going, it would take time.

Tye held
her shoulders straight, but she looked exhausted. Violet shadows emphasized her
eyes and hollows lay in her cheeks. Jake figured she needed a good night's rest
and then some. As his thoughts rambled on, he heard her mutter something about
voice mail into the phone. Going for broke, Jake said, "I never thought
I’d see the day you’d give up at the first obstacle. I guess
you’ve changed over the years, Tye. But then, ten years is a long
time."

As if
he’d touched her with a live wire, Tye’s head jerked around, her
eyes narrowing and shooting fire.

"What
did you say?" she demanded. She dropped the phone back on its cradle with
a loud clatter. She hoped she’d broken it, she was so mad, but she
glanced at it quickly and saw it was still in one piece.

Jake had
the nerve to turn away and saunter toward the kitchen. She stared after him,
for the moment speechless. Hurriedly, she jerked her eyes from his long back
and legs. She wondered why he wore perfectly creased dress pants. He’d
look great in tight, faded jeans. Years ago he’d worn jeans all the time.
Tye made an exasperated sound, irritated with her thoughts. With a jerky
movement, she propelled her chair across a short-napped grey carpet.

"What
the hell are you implying? I've never given up on anything in my life. You
don't know what you're talking, about Jake Miller. I suppose this is some kind
of reverse psychology?" Her entire body felt ready to snap from the
tension riding her. She gripped the arms of her chair, feeling an ache shoot up
into her neck. "Well, it’s not going to work. I’m not
seventeen anymore. You don’t know a damn thing about me."

Jake
reached into the refrigerator and calmly took out two cans of soda. He handed
one to Tye, then popped the top on his. Taking a deep gulp, he lowered the can
and looked her straight in the eye. "You’re right, I don’t
know a thing about you. You seemed okay with everything, the arrangements and
the place, until you saw me. What we might have had is long over, so it
can’t be that. So if you’re not giving up, what is it that makes
you want to run like a rabbit for a hole?"

Tye had
never in her life been likened to a rabbit running for a hole in her life. The
analogy caused the beginnings of a smile. She caught herself and looked away
from him. She needed to stay angry so he wouldn’t catch her off guard.
God knows she’d crumble into the ground if she let him get past her
defenses.

I don’t want to deal with people, anyone, the way I am
now, she wanted to yell at him. I want to be selfish and alone. I don’t
want to remember how I loved you.

"I’m
uncomfortable with this whole situation. I thought I was out here by
myself." The truth was extremely difficult for her to admit. Tye felt as
if she had no pride left. And yet, suddenly, she remembered Jake saying he
needed the money.

He
shrugged his big shoulders. "Well, there's only me. Except for Sundays,
there usually isn't a gang of people hanging around," he said dryly.
"If you're worried about the connecting door between your side and mine,
I'll hand over the keys. My mom and dad used to live here, so I have an extra
set."

Tye
gripped the ice-cold can in her hand, feeling the aluminum indent under the
pressure. Jerkily, she placed the can on the table beside her and pushed it
toward him.

"You
shared the house with your parents?"

"Yes.
My mom needed help with my dad. It was easier this way."

Tye felt
an unexpected ache deep down. Easier for whom? Everyone but Jake. She pushed
that thought aside.

"What
happens on Sundays?" A faint curiosity stirred inside her.

"A bunch
of friends come and play football. It shouldn't bother you. We play in the
pasture away from your side of the house."

"Football?"
Something clicked in Tye's mind. "Ben plays football on Sundays since he
moved back from New York. He hardly ever misses it."

Jake
shifted his feet. "Yeah, well, Ben's one of the guys."

Things
began to sharpen into focus. If she hadn't felt so wrapped up in herself, she
might have figured it out earlier. When had she gotten so self-absorbed?
"I’ve been so stuck in my own thoughts, I haven’t paid
attention to what Ben’s been telling me." Tye put a weary hand to
the back of her head, then flipped her hair away from her face. "God! Ben
must have told me."

Jake’s
expression turned wary. "He told you about this place, that I owned
it?"

"Maybe."
Something on the wall beyond Jake’s shoulder caught Tye’s
attention. She had been staring at it fixedly, but her brain finally
assimilated that it was a large antler, the end of which was carved into the
head of a bear. The work was so breathtakingly beautiful and delicate that Tye
lost her train of thought. She moved her chair toward it, then slowly reached
out to run her fingertips delicately over the face of the animal.

"Jake,
I’ve never seen anything so stunning." She lifted her gaze to his in
wonder. "The detail is so exquisite and fine. This carving is a work of
art."

"Thank
you," Jake said simply.

"Where
did you get it?"

"It’s
an elk antler. It was given to me by a friend last year. He finds antlers in
the woods when they’re shed by elk or moose ―"

"No,
the carving ― who did the carving?" Memories snapped into place. Tye
let her gaze touch his, her eyes wide with amazement. "Jake, did you do
this? I remember." She recalled so clearly the small wooden animals Jake
used to carve. Tye had about a dozen of them in her room at Mama’s ranch.

"You
did this, Jake. You carved this antler. I had no idea you were into it so
seriously."

"There’s
probably a lot we don’t know about each other," Jake said slowly.
"It’s been a long time."

Confused,
exhausted, Tye felt suddenly overwhelmed by the pressures of the day. She was
tired beyond belief. She needed to lie down. Coming to a snap decision, she
tore her eyes away from the carved antler and wheeled herself to the door.
"Maybe I'll stay the night and call a taxi in the morning." She
couldn't help the stiffness of her voice or the determined tilt of her chin.

Tye
paused in the doorway and waited for Jake to say something. When he didn't, she
looked back at him.

"You
can stay as long as you need to," he said.

She
splayed her fingers and rubbed her forehead. "Why are you doing this,
Jake?" she asked, looking up at him. "Why would you offer this place
to me at the low rent Ben quoted me?" She knew her voice was too high, and
made an attempt to lower it. "Why me, of all people?"

"The
apartment's been empty. You needed a place to stay for a while and the solution
seemed right."

I’m kind of strapped for cash
. Tye looked at
him. He wouldn’t beg her to stay, and she wouldn’t want him to. Was
this a small way for her to repay him for what she had done years ago? The
small amount she paid him in rent might help him out now.

Tye had
another split-second flashback to the night of the accident. Once more she saw
him at her side, his face filled with determination and concern, the drizzle of
rain blurring his features. They should have been strangers after ten years
apart, yet he had helped her that night, had stayed with her, and she felt an
unwanted connection to him. Darn him! Why had he come back into her life now? How
could she deal with this?

"Why,
Jake? Why were you there that night?"

She eyed
him across the room, noting a certain hardness in his expression. Tye knew he
wasn’t going to answer. Why?

The
thoughts ran too fast for her to catch them. At the moment, she couldn’t
think properly. She had to lie down. "I've got to get some sleep,"
she said. "What time do you leave for work? Will I see you in the
morning?"

"I'll
be around," he promised.

Jake
moved up behind her as if to help propel her chair out the door.

"I'm
fine," she lied, gripping the rubber-edged wheels. "I can get myself
the rest of the way."

"I
can help," Jake said. Tye twisted in the chair and narrowed her eyes
challengingly. Finally, he seemed to get the message, because he stepped away from
her and merely opened the door.

It took
every ounce of strength Tye possessed to move the chair out the door ― on
to their shared front deck. At the door of her apartment, she turned her head
and looked back. Jake stood in his doorway watching her. He lifted a hand
slowly and saluted her. Tye turned her head away and closed her eyes tightly.
That gesture of farewell was familiar, one she hadn’t seen in so many
years. Emotion overloaded her. Tye felt the threatening burn behind her eyes.

Firming
her lips to stop the trembling, she said loudly, "For the record, Jake, I
never give up."
Except once, when I
shouldn’t have
, she amended silently.
I
was only seventeen, and maybe I made a mistake
. A mistake she could
never undo and would forever regret.

#

"Ben,
find me another place. I can't stay here," Tye typed on her notebook
computer early the next morning.

Ben's
reply came almost immediately via chat. "Why not? The place is perfect.
What's the matter? Has something happened to upset you?"

Tye
looked at the ceiling, then typed, "No" she swallowed hard and typed
quickly, "Jake’s been great. I just can't stay here. It's not right
for me. By the way, you might have told me, but I don’t recall you
mentioning the place was owned by Jake." Tye hit the Send button.

"I
did tell you, Sis. I know you two were hot when you were kids, but it
didn’t seem to be a problem for Jake. You two have hardly mentioned each
other in all these years."

Tye felt
a sharp lance of pain. She hadn’t told anyone the truth about her
leaving, and apparently Jake hadn’t confided in her brother, either.

"It'll
take me awhile to find another place with such a perfect setup. I told Jake it
was only temporary."

Tye felt
a curl of disappointment. The apartment was perfect, but how could she explain
the twisting emotions she herself didn't understand? She couldn't stay around
Jake Miller. He touched something raw in her, the part of her that had never
fully recovered from loving him. She was attracted to him, plain and simple. It
was the first real emotion she’d felt in months. Maybe before the
accident she might have done something about it if Jake walked back into her
life, but not now, not when she felt so inadequate as a woman, as a person.

Tye had
never felt inadequate in her life. Now, the feeling seemed to seep into every
segment of her existence. Even her writing career suffered. Since the accident
she hadn’t touched a freelance article she’d once been incredibly
enthusiastic about. She had to get her life back on track. Seeing Jake brought
into vivid recall the day of the accident, the pain and her own vulnerability.
All her absurd fantasies about him aside, how could she move on with her life
if she were constantly reminded of the life they might have had together?