“Whatdoyou want?” he asked, and suddenly all pretense died between them.
The air crackled with unspoken emotions. Amanda saw his eyes darken, saw his knuckles whiten over that wrench. She felt the gnaw of pain in her chest that had been her only answer all these years when she’d asked that same question.
“I want to go home the way I am,” she admitted. “And I can never do that. So I guess I’ll try and make it where I am. What doyouwant?”
She could touch the tension between them, winnow her fingers through it like a field of static, curling over her and brushing her skin. She could see the cost of his control.
“I want...”
Amanda held her breath. She felt her heart skid and right itself. She saw the last word in his eyes, felt it in the way he stood, heard it in the rasp of his breath.
And she almost answered.
“I want to get this engine repaired by suppertime,” he grated. “And I’d appreciate it if visitors would ask me when they intend to disrupt my schedule.”
For a minute Amanda couldn’t answer. She still couldn’t breathe, Jake’s near brush with the truth still skittering through her. She raked her trembling fingers through her hair and hoped he didn’t realize how shaken she was.
“Of course,” she acknowledged. “After all, this is your ranch.”
“That’s right,” he retorted. “Itismy ranch. You might want to remember that a little more often.”
Amanda managed a smile. “By the way, I never thanked you for lending me Sweet William. He’s a wonderful horse.”
Jake shrugged, as if to say that even that much gratitude was too much a burden.
“Would there be a chance I could... rent or lease a horse while I’m here? So I can ride back and forth to the cabin instead of taking those damned roads?”
Jake lifted the wrench. “Use Bill. He won’t mind.”
Amanda immediately shook her head. “No,” she disagreed. “Not your work horse. I’m enough of a bother as it is. You let me know when you get a chance. I’ll keep practicing in the meantime. And... and I’ll stay away from you, if that’s what you want.”
He didn’t answer. Amanda saw the ambivalence and understood it perfectly. She felt the draw and fought it as hard. She prayed for reprieve and yet wasn’t sure she was brave enough for it.
All she got was another shrug. “I’ll let you know,” he said and turned back to his tractor. And Amanda returned to her car and the cabin that had begun to echo with more than ghosts during the long spring nights.
She was halfway across the drive before he spoke.
“Amanda—”
Amanda turned, unsure what she’d heard in his voice. He was standing as stiffly as a man about to be sentenced to death, and his eyes were dark, hooded in the bright sunlight. She couldn’t quite see what he hid there, but she felt the discomfort, the ambivalence.
“Yes?”
He opened his mouth to speak, still holding tight to that wrench, still as rigid as pain. “I’m... don’t pay any attention to me. It’s been busy around here, and I’ve been in a bad mood. I meant it about Sweet William. You’re comfortable on him, and he likes that upper pasture. Go ahead and take him.”
Amanda knew better than to argue a second time. She knew, too, what Jake was offering. The least she could do was be gracious enough to accept, even if she was still no closer to understanding.
“Thank you,” she answered with a smile. “And next time, I’ll ask you first. Since it’s your ranch and all.”
She wished he’d at least smile. He just nodded and turned back to his tractor. And Amanda turned back to her book, knowing full well that she couldn’t even think to investigate it until she’d unraveled the mystery in Jake Kendall’s eyes.
Itwashis ranch. His world. The only place he knew he belonged on this earth, where he knew what he was worth. Jake looked out the window on this spring evening watching the shadows melt and pool out across the meadow, and thought of how Amanda Marlow threatened to change his life. How she thought to impact it.
But she had the entire damn world to make her impact on. She could fly to Boston or Beirut or Beijing to lay claim to a piece of earth. Jake had here. He had these mountains and meadows and rivers to call his. He had men who understood him and horses who worked for him, friends to call on and neighbors he could depend on and who could depend on him. He had sense in his life and he had control. And nowhere else did he have that.
No matter what she did, she couldn’t take that away from him. She couldn’t lay claim to his land, to his place. He never needed to be lonely here; he never felt like an outsider. And to Jake, who had given up so much over the years, that was something he simply couldn’t sacrifice.
The lights were on at Clovis’s side of the cabin he shared with José. Jake decided that he’d go on down and get Clovis and check on the mares. Grabbing his hat from the rack, he strode across the hardwood floor and banged open the screen door.
