“We should head back.” Cal stood and walked toward the horses.
Losing his warmth sent an immediate chill through me. Knowing I might have lost him entirely froze me to the bone. But I couldn’t takeback what I’d said. Resignedly, I rose to my feet and repacked the saddle bags.
The trip back to the ranch should have been idyllic. Moonlight silvered the landscape, reflecting off the river and lighting their way. But all the romance and promise were gone from the night. Cal rode ahead of me, leading the way and frequently checking on me, but he said nothing. Maybe there was nothing left to say. Our lives had intersected in Poplar Springs, but they were never going to run together. An achy sadness started in my chest.
I’d been fine before Cal arrived in town. Content with my child, my job, my life. But now, the contentment was gone. I’d exchanged it for a few weeks of happiness with Cal. His broad shoulders moved ahead of me and I longed to put my arms around him, but what good would that do? There was no way forward for us.
“You go on up to the house. It’s getting late,” he said when we were back at the barn. “I’ll take care of the horses.”
“I’ll do my part,” I said, leading Nova inside and removing her saddle.
I wanted to ask if he’d come to the house with me, but I knew what his answer would be. In his mind, it was over between us. I’d rejected him and that was it. He was blocking me out. Would he even hear me if I tried to explain? I glanced over to where he was working on Astra, checking her over while he gave her a rubdown. He was so focused on the mare that he seemed oblivious to me.
The way he was acting felt all too familiar. Luke had stopped listening to me, too. I’d dealt with it by leaning on the support of the rest of the family and the community. But I’d have none of that if I joined Cal and things stopped working between us. That was too much of a risk.
With half a mind on my task, I rubbed Nova down and put off the inevitable. It was clear that what I had with Cal was over, but therodeo was still ahead of us and we had to work together. Could we be professional enough to make that possible?
I wished I could rewind to the moment he’d said that he loved me and stop the conversation from going any further, pretend that everything was fine between us for a few more days. But I couldn’t.
I finished with my horse and walked to the stall where Cal worked. Leaning in the open door, I watched him. He was so strong and gentle with the animal. He was a good man, a better man than Luke in so many ways. That thought was almost enough to make me relent and say I’d go with him anywhere and we’d figure out the details together. It would never work, though, so it was best to make a clean break.
“Cal,” I whispered and waited for him to look at me. “I’m sorry. I wish there were another way for us, but I don’t think there is.” My voice cracked when I spoke, and I hoped he didn’t notice. The tears would come if he did.
He nodded, apparently agreeing with me. And that hurt even worse for some reason.
“About the rodeo…”
“I can do the final promo events alone if that would be easier,” he said. We had the interview on Denver AM, and he was booked to compete in a rodeo between here and Denver. We’d planned to go together to both to promote Poplar Springs’s rodeo. I’d been looking forward to them, but traveling together would be awkward now.
“That’s probably best,” I said. “I can work on the final logistics for the rodeo here and keep you apprised of any other expectations.” Doing the work wouldn’t reduce my hurt any since his name and image would be everywhere, but it would keep my mind occupied.
“All right, then.” He put away the brushes he’d been using, and I stepped back so he could close the stall door.
“Goodnight,” I said and turned to head for the barn door. Before I could take a step, he caught my arm and pulled me to him, crushing me in a hug. I couldn’t stop myself from returning it. And then he was kissing me, deep and fierce. It would have been wonderful if not for the sense that this was the final kiss between us. Oh, God, I was going to miss this, miss him. But neither of us could change our situation.
I sought comfort in the kiss, imagining what a different life might be like if we could be together, until I finally made myself pull back. Unable to stop touching him entirely, I caressed his face for another few seconds before stepping back.
“Goodbye, Amy,” he said, his voice husky.
“Bye, Cal.” I turned and made my way to the house, forcing myself not to look back.
TWENTY-SEVEN
AMY
On the short walk to the house, I schooled my features into an impassive mask. As much as I wanted to run to my room, throw myself on the bed, and cry like a teenager with a broken heart, I wouldn’t. Before Luke’s death, I’d become adept at suppressing my emotions. I didn’t want anyone to see how much my husband’s attitude hurt me.
After he died, I became a pro, especially in front of the Thornes. I focused on trying to give comfort instead of taking it. The family had suffered enough without me adding to the burden. It was why I’d gone to Beaumont for grief counseling, and then participated in an online widows’ support group that I could do from the office. The mayor had known about it because I’d needed to warn him if I appeared overly upset and he’d been surprisingly supportive.
So I’d keep it together until I was alone for the night. I just had to hold on until then.
I slipped into the house quietly, going to check on Henry who Laura had put to bed for me. He was sleeping soundly. I lingered with my son, drawing comfort from his sweet, innocent presence. I’d seenpictures of all the brothers when they were growing up and Henry looked a bit like each of them, but out of all of the Thornes, he actually looked most like Marshall did at that age. I wondered who he’d resemble the most as he got older.
I wandered around his room, straightening his toys and putting his clothes away. After several minutes, I felt a little stronger, a little more in control of my emotions, so I kissed his forehead and went to the kitchen for a cup of tea before going to my room.
I put the kettle on to boil and found a chamomile teabag. While I waited, I wiped down the already clean counters and stovetop. Anything to keep my mind from processing the full truth. Cal was out of my life forever. My aimless activity wasn’t enough of a distraction as I thought about what was gone from my life. No more nights curled in my bed with Cal, no more kisses or caresses, no more stories of the rodeo. A single sob broke from me before I clamped one hand over my mouth, but I couldn’t hold back the tears that flowed freely down my cheeks.
I was no stranger to heartbreak, but this felt different. By the time Luke died, the good parts of my marriage had already been over. My tears then had been because a good man died far too young. But more than that, I’d cried because Henry lost his father and grandfather, Laura lost a son and husband, and the twins lost their brother and their dad both in the same damn car accident that should never have happened.
