“I can look after my own self,” Jamie said, looking at Leland as though he were encountering a stranger.
Which was no more than Leland deserved. He deserved worse, actually, so he took Diablo into the barn, groomed him, gave him some water and some feed, and then walked the horse gently to the fields, where he could run with his horse pals and graze as long as he wanted to.
Jamie was gone from the corral when Leland went past it, and he hoped Jamie was getting some dinner. He would make sure, of course, but he wouldn’t be obvious about it.
Look where being obvious had gotten him. Look where that had gotten Jamie, hurt and confused, acting like a young man with nothing in the world worth caring about. That was what weighed on Leland’s heart as he scooted into the back of the dining hall to grab whatever wasn’t already being wrapped up for the night. There were sounds of staff in the back, washing up, and guests lingered by the front door, happy laughter dancing up to the ceiling beams. And there he was, with a day-old ham sandwich in one hand and a slightly warm root beer in the other.
When he finished, he threw away his trash, checked on the ice maker, chatted with Levi a bit, all the while pretending he was okay. Being the foreman of a ranch, he was in charge of everything, but it seemed he was standing behind a blind spot. For everyone else, he knew what they should be doing, where they should be going, what they were responsible for. But for himself? He had no idea.
“Coming to the dance, Leland?” asked Levi. He’d taken off his apron, a signal that meant he was done with this semi-official meeting and wanted to go have some fun.
“Sure,” Leland said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
But he would not go. If he did, he’d either see Jamie there or he wouldn’t. If he saw him, he’d be tempted to take him in his arms again, to sweep him off his feet and into his bed. He’d already done that. Already messed up.
If he didn’t see him, then he’d get worried and start looking for him. He might find him in the barn, in the shadowy dark, or in his room. Either way, it’d be too much for Leland. The best thing to do—the best thing forJamie—was if Leland left him alone for a while and then took up treating him like he had before. Casual and profession. Yes, that’s what he’d do.
In the meantime, he headed to his cabin and took a hot shower and lay on top of the covers as the evening grew dark. He had the windows open to catch the breeze as it came down the mountains. From not too far away, he could hear the music from the dining hall, and the low laughter of guests and ranch hands and anybody who was dancing.
Jamiewas what mattered. Leland needed to make sure he was okay, and then he needed to take him to the bank, like he’d promised. Help him get his driver’s license. Make sure he didn’t work too hard. And resist his own impulses,his, which had messed things up between them so badly.
26
Jamie
After eating a quick dinner, Jamie cleaned up for the dance and went to the dining hall, half hoping Leland would be there. Half certain he would not be. What would he say to Leland anyway, should they meet? It was bound to be more of the same, moreno, we can’tandno, we shouldn’t,even if they alreadyhad.
Leland was most definitely not at the dance, even as Jamie stood by one of the wooden beams holding up the porch, standing half behind it as though it might make him invisible. Leland wasn’t there, and as everyone danced and laughed beneath the sprinkling of fairy lights and the stronger beams from the wrought-iron lanterns, no one seemed to notice. Or if they did, it wasn’t important to them, as they were having such a good time.
This made the ache in Jamie’s heart worse, though he knew Leland would truly be missed, if he ever were to leave. Jamie was the one who wouldn’t be missed, and perhaps it would be better for everyone, especially Leland, if he left.
The second he got back to his room, he drew his green duffle bag out of his closet, and dragged his clothes out of the dresser. With all the new clothes and gear Leland had bought for him, the duffle was quite full. By the time he zipped it shut, he certainly couldn’t fit his Carhartt jacket in there, or his cowboy boots. He needed to leave those things behind anyway, as they reminded him, every second, of Leland and his kindness.
He finished packing and left the duffle by the door so he would see it first thing he woke up, so it could remind him what he decided to do. Then he laid the money Mr. Ayers had given him on top, so he would remember to take it with him.
It was quite late. He needed to sleep.
In the morning, he was going to march down that road and out that gate, head into town with his thousand dollars, and catch the first bus out of Farthing. He would kick the dust of the ranch from his heels because he didn’t need anything from the ranch. Not the hard work, not the hard hours, and not Leland. And especially not Leland’s attention, or his smiles, or his strong arms. He was going to head out to fresh places and new people, and never, ever again would he open up his heart.
He was an idiot. Why had he fallen for those grey-blue eyes, that hard jaw, and a mouth that spoke such sweet words? He should have known better than to fall in love with the boss. Or with a guy who saidyes, and thenno,come hereand thengo away.
What had he been thinking? He hadn’t been thinking, that’s what. He’d started believing in hope, started believing he could make a better life for himself at the ranch. Started believing that Leland cared about him. But whether he’d been telling himself lies or Leland had told them, it was all lies, and he had believed them.
Well, never again.
Sleep came hard, as though he’d thrown himself against stones in the night and just hung on till morning. By the time the sun began creeping over his windowsill, the soft breezes stirring the thin, white curtains, someone was banging on his door.
It was too much to hope it was Leland, but he hoped anyway. And opened the door with such force, it banged against the wall of his room.
There stood Clay, fully dressed, looking bright-eyed and ready for the day.
“Hey, they need you,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I know it’s early, but the driver delivering hay has somehow managed to dump all the bales as the truck came around the curve to the barn. Leland wants everyone out there to clean up before guests wake up.”
“What time is it?” Jamie asked, though it really didn’t matter. It was early, and he needed to get away, get away before he ever saw Leland’s face again.
“Five thirty,” Clay said, and he winced as though agreeing with Jamie’s unspoken complaint as to how early it was. “Extra pay, Leland says. He doesn’t want the guests to have to wade through bales of hay.”
“Fine,” Jamie said. He’d do it to keep the guests happy and for the money. But he wasn’t going to talk to Leland, even if he was there, except to sayyes, sir,andno, sir,and that was it.
