‘No.’ He stroked one hand over her hair. ‘What happened, happened that morning. Or maybe the night before. You know that. You felt her kick.’ When his voice thickened with grief, he cleared it, forged ahead. ‘You said that – in the hospital. You said you felt her kick. Si, it had absolutely nothing to do with you or your body or Ty. It was a terrible, terrible twist of fate, and there is nothing you could have done.’ When she began to shudder with a fresh wave of grief, he kissed the top of her head, whispered, ‘It wasn’t your fault.’
And then he held her as that wave broke.
As Sierra sobbed in his arms, Ty stretched out his neck and nibbled on her hair, desperate for more of her love after so long apart. Knowing that it would help, Benji gently turned her to face the horse again. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her against his chest while she swiped at her face and reached out to stroke Ty with her other hand.
Her inner horsewoman kicked in immediately as he had known it would. Sierra started taking deep breaths, calming herself so that she didn’t stress Ty. Slowly, her tears turned to sniffles. Her shaking stopped. And by the time they were ready to go, she leaned forward and kissed Ty’s nose without being prompted.
They got to the lake by nine o’clock, but to Sierra it felt like two in the morning. Her throat was dry from the tequila. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her sinuses were congested from all the crying, and she could already feel a headache thumping behind her eyes. She looked terrible. She knew it, but she didn’t have the energy to care.
Benji expertly reversed so that the truck bed overlooked the lake. He parked, turned off the engine. He handed her a bottle of water and two aspirin, opened his door. ‘Give me a minute to get the blankets out,’ he said, and when she nodded, he reached over and gently tugged a long strand of her hair, as if he wanted to touch her but wasn’t sure of himself.
The moment he climbed out of the warm cab, Sierra let her head fall back, exhausted. She hadn’t meant to let it all out. It had just slipped away from her. The entire day, starting with bringing Ty out to help with the Sinclaire wedding, to wedding dress shopping, and the news of Mav and Nina’s baby … It had just been one too many straws, adding to that ever-present weight.
And even then, if Benji hadn’t come to The Drifter she would have escaped the grief and suffered nothing but a hangover. There’d even been a moment in the bar with the young cowboy that she’d considered just letting it happen. The sex might have been bad, or even wrong, but it still would have been a distraction.
She should have been angry with Benji for getting in the way. So, only God knew why she wasn’t. And why, as he opened her door, her old Ugg boots and a pair of thick socks in his hand, she smiled tiredly. ‘Did you check those for tarantulas?’ she asked as she bent down to unstrap her heels.
Benji slipped one hand into her Ugg boot. He felt around for a few seconds before yelping loudly as if he’d been bitten.
Sierra rolled her eyes. ‘Very funny.’
He grinned, but he still checked the other one before handing them both to her. ‘All clear.’
Sierra slipped them on with a sigh of relief, grateful to be out of her heels for the day. She took Benji’s hand when he offered it, let him lead her to the back of the truck before letting him go.
Restricted by her skirt, she shimmied her butt up and onto the tailgate, scooted inelegantly back onto the pile of spread blankets. She lay down, and even though she tried not to think about their kiss earlier, or how perfectly safe she’d felt in his arms, it was harder to ignore him when he spread out next to her and threw the last blanket over both of them.
She nestled under the thick blanket and stared up at the star-studded sky. The cold winter air provided cool relief to her hot, tear-stained face.
Benji didn’t say anything. He just lay next to her, not touching her, but close enough to have her wishing that he would. Because as much as she had been driven by the need to make everything else go away, even momentarily, she still wanted him too. She always had. She probably always would.
But that was her cross to bear.
Still, she had forgotten how comforting silence in the company of the right person could be. It wasn’t like being alone, trapped with your own thoughts. It was being so close to someone that just their proximity to you made you feel not alone. It was being so close to someone that you knew what you’d say to each other if you were talking, making words unnecessary.
It had always been like that with Benji.
And because that terrified her, she spoke. ‘When I was in New York for school and then LA for work, I’d forget how bright the stars were here. And then every time I’d come home, I’d spend the first night just …’ she shook her head, ‘in awe.’
‘There’s nowhere as beautiful as Hunt Ranch,’ he said simply.
Sierra rolled onto her side so that she could look at him. His blond hair, with only the faintest grey at his temples, was in dire need of a trim. His face, which he shaved religiously every morning, was lightly shadowed with scruff. He rested his head on one arm, his elbow poking out, biceps flexing.
It hurt to look at him – always. It made her wonder what their life would be like had things worked out differently. It made her imagine an alternate reality, a reality that wasn’t hers, a reality where they had a one-year-old and were looking forward to Christmas with none of that grief between them, a reality where the worst thing that happened to them was that they’d stayed up all night with a fussy child.
‘What did she look like?’ Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper, but the question fell into the night like a shot from a Winchester.
She heard his breath catch. For a long moment he didn’t say anything. The cold night stretched over their cocoon of warmth as he sorted through his thoughts, always so careful. But when he turned to her, his eyes glistening with tears, he said, ‘She looked like you. Like a Hunt.’
Sierra didn’t cry. She had no more tears to shed just then. But that emptiness inside her yawned wide. ‘Strange. I always imagine her like you. Blonde curls. Green eyes. Cheeky grin.’
‘Nope, she was all Hunt.’ He shifted so that he was on his side, facing her fully. ‘Do you remember when Poppy was born?’
‘Of course.’
‘She had all that thick, brown hair?’
‘Yeah. And it stuck up like she had been electrocuted.’
