He hadn’t had much time to think on what he’d figured out down by the creek earlier, but now it all came rushing back to him.
He loved her.
The thought of losing her, of sending her home, left a hole inside that he could never fill. But his future was uncertain. It would be selfish of him to hold her here—to marry her—when he didn’t know what kind of life he could give her. The thieves had been caught, but whether or not his business was still viable, he didn’t know.
And if it was, was he capable of running it?
The only thing he knew for certain was that he had to speak with her. He’d lay out the facts, and perhaps she’d see reason—even if it killed him in the process.
“I believe if he’s treated kindly, he’ll be a gentle sort of horse,” Clara said, her voice like honey, low and sweet, as she ran a hand down the stallion’s nose.
Roman swallowed and looked at the horse. “Perhaps.” Why did she have to be so good with the horses? It made all of this so much harder.
“Clara,” he finally said.
She glanced at him, her eyes skeptical. Had he done that? She’d arrived here so full of hope and joy, and all he’d done was promise her marriage—and then push her away.
No wonder she didn’t trust him.
“Clara,” he said again, trying to summon the courage to be honest with her.
She clasped her hands together and looked at the ground. “I know you don’t want me. I won’t try to persuade you to change your mind. I can leave tomorrow, if that’s feasible.”
“No,” he said, more forcefully than he’d intended.
She jerked her head up, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.
He closed his eyes briefly. “You should go. But it isn’t because I don’t want you. God help me, I want you too much.” His voice caught in his throat, emotions threatening to spill over. It took every ounce of energy he had not to reach for her and crush her into his arms. “And that’s why I want you to leave.”
“I . . . I don’t understand.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen here. This entire business could be over with tomorrow or next week. Or it might not. But even if folks continue to board their horses here, I don’t know . . . I don’t know if I can do this.” It hurt to put words to the doubts that had sat deeply inside him for so long. The same doubts that had prevented him from doing anything worthwhile for years. The ones that had him convinced he’d never be anything more than a drifter, doomed to fail at everything he attempted.
“Of course you can run the livery,” Clara said. She straightened, her face more determined than Roman had ever seen. “You have a talent with horses, and you get along well with people. In the short time I’ve been here, I haven’t met a person who didn’t have good things to say about you.”
Roman didn’t know what to say to that. Sure, he got along with folks, but he didn’t think anyone really held him in much high esteem. He was, after all, just a cowboy trying to create a legitimate business.
“I don’t know what your parents or your brothers might have said to you to make you think you can’t make something wonderful out of your life, but they’re wrong. You can, Roman. I know you can.” She held his gaze, wisps of her bright hair framing her beautiful face.
Her words reached his ears and settled inside, melting away the obstacles that had stood in his path. He was ambitious enough to build this place and ask folks to stable their horses here. There was nothing at all to keep him from coming back after Hoskins and Jones’s attempt to sabotage it all. Nothing at all, except his own doubts.
Roman swallowed. She was right.
He drew his hands together behind him. “You have my word that I’ll do everything in my power to make this place succeed. But Clara . . .” His eyes searched hers. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but something about the way she looked at him gave him courage. “I can’t keep you here. I can’t force you into something that might not succeed.”
She gave him a sad smile. “You wouldn’t be forcing me into anything.”
“What do you mean?”
Clara took a step toward him, so close he could feel the warmth of her presence. Roman clenched his hands together. She turned her sweet face up to him, and he thought he’d never seen anything so completely pure and honest in his life.
“I love you, Roman Carlisle. I want to stay here. Not because I believe you’ll be a wildly successful livery man—although I do believe that to be true. But because I want to be with you. I don’t care if it’s hard, or if you own a livery or nothing at all. I want to be withyou.” Her eyes darted down quickly. “If that’s what you want.”
He stared at her a moment. She loved him. Those simple words repeated themselves in his head, over and over, until he started to believe they were true.
And then he could stand it no longer, having her this close to him and not touching her. He drew a hand to her chin, lifting it so he could see her face.
“I love you, Clara.” He drew in a deep breath, relishing the feel of her skin beneath his hand. “I don’t deserve anyone as perfect as you. Someone who believes in me so wholeheartedly.”
