Because I Love You (5 page)

The choice, however, had always been hers. The law fascinated Leah. It was orderly, but required creative thinking to make sense of it. But she was tired. Her brother was making his family his priority, and Leah figured if she ever had the same chance, she might do the same.

Which made it even more important to continue to mend fences with her sister-in-law. Jenna showed her incredible kindness and support at brunch last week, and Leah had no intention of letting it go to waste. The women had turned the corner, now it was time for her big brother to start acting like an adult. Because, dammit, she was going to act like an adult even if it killed her. She and Nate had to make things right between them.

The barn was crowded, as it usually was after school. Kids were gathering for their riding lessons, some were tacking their horses and ponies, cleaning equipment, or goofing around with friends. This was Leah's life growing up and she missed the camaraderie she had with her barn friends.

When she rounded the corner, she spied a girl who was having trouble picking her mount's feet. “Is Joey being difficult?” she asked.

“He's being a pain,” the little redhead responded.

Leah felt the smile break across her face. The girl could have been her at that age. She guessed the child was about ten, maybe eleven. “What's your name?”

“Elizabeth.”

“That's my mom's name. I'm Leah.” Pulling a hair tie from the pocket of her jeans, Leah got the tangled mess of curls out of her face. “Now, I agree, Joey is a pain in the neck, but he jumps like a dream, so we put up with him. Try this.”

Leah crouched down, positioning herself so her shoulder was braced against the horse. “As you slide your hand down the inside of his leg, put a little pressure against him with your shoulder.” She leaned in a bit, and Joey lifted his foot.

Elizabeth's big blue eyes went wide. “He never does that! Can I try?”

Leah stood, happy Elizabeth wanted to try managing Joey herself. The little girl set herself up the same way Leah had, ran her hand down the inside of the gelding's leg, and leaned in with her shoulder. Joey's foot popped right up.

The look on Elizabeth's face was triumphant. She happily picked the horse's hoof, and then moved around to the other side. Leah stayed close by just in case she needed a hand, but it seemed once Elizabeth got the hang of something, she owned it.

Leah had been like that. She still was. Her mistakes, her missteps, and her accomplishments were hers and hers alone. No one got blamed, but she was also pretty stingy giving out credit. If Leah worked for something, she was happy to take the pat on the back.

Without any warning, there was a commotion at the end of the aisle. Moving to see what was going on, and to make sure no one got hurt, she made her way toward the noise. She wasn't surprised when she saw what had piqued everyone's interest.

The clutch of teenage girls standing near the main doors of the barn, mouths hanging open, watched as Nate and Tristan, both filthy, walked their horses in from the field. Leah had no idea what they had been up to, but based on the amount of dirt they were wearing, and the sheen of sweat on each of their horses, she guessed it had been a hard ride.

Of course, based on her experience with Tristan last weekend, a hard ride with him could be quite . . . exhilarating. She focused on the two men again, she knew her brother turned heads, he always had. But now, riding in with Tristan, every female in the barn with a pair of working ovaries was paying attention. While Leah had slipped into jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of half-chaps over her paddock boots, the guys were in full garb. Tristan looked like he'd walked out of a horsemanship magazine. Olive-colored breeches, which emphasized his muscular thighs and his perfect ass, tall black field boots, and a navy-blue polo shirt sent her hormones into overdrive. Combine all that with the scruff of his face, the sweat, and the band tattoo on his wonderfully defined biceps, and Leah would do whatever he wanted.

Gah. This was not fair. And it got worse. Tristan's nut-brown eyes locked on hers, and he flashed a sweet grin. It was heart-stopping. Panty-dropping.
Dangerous.

“Good Lord, I wouldn't have been able to resist him, either. He's not my type, but damn.”

Leah turned to see that she'd been joined by her sister, Amy, whom she hadn't seen since the upsetting lunch. Amy's point about Tris not being her type was total bullshit. Tristan Wade was everyone's type.

“Wait,” Amy said. “Is he bleeding?”

Crap. She hadn't noticed until Amy pointed it out, but there it was—running along the back of his arm was a good-size gash. Now a hundred things started flying through her head.
It had to be cleaned. How had it happened? Was he going to need stitches? Was he hurt anywhere else?
Leah shot an order out to her sister. “Go tell Da what happened, and bring me a first-aid kit.”

Amy went because bloody and dirty were out of her comfort zone, but Leah moved toward the riders, both idiots, she was sure, and took hold of the bridles, stopping their horses. “What did you do to yourself?” she snapped. “You look like you've been through a war.”

“Almost,” Nate replied. “We went out on the trail and the horses were spooked by a flock of birds that took off. It would've been funny if it hadn't almost killed us.”

“Nate stayed on,” Tristan added. “But I took a tumble in some very nasty briars. Tore up my arm a bit.”

“A
bit
?”

Cautiously working her way around the horse, Leah could see Tristan's injury was more than a few scratches from a thorny bush. “Let me help you down.”

Nate had already dismounted, and was holding Tristan's horse. When Tris maneuvered, so he could get out of the saddle, Leah saw him wince.
Briars her ass
. Based on the way he pressed his hand to his side, he'd done more than cut up his arm.

“You need to go to the hospital,” she said flatly.

“Don't be absurd.” Finally, he eased himself down. “A bit of antiseptic, and I'll be good as new.”

“You need to see a doctor.”

“No, really. I'll be alright in a bit. Just need to walk it off.” He ground out the response, sucking in a breath as he took a step. He wasn't really going to argue with her, was he?

“Tristan,” she growled. “If you give me a hard time in front of these impressionable young riders, some who are already too big for their britches, I will kick your ass.”

His soulful eyes steadied, and she could see when he started to understand. He knew he couldn't mess with the barn culture; every good instructor wanted her charges to get medical attention if necessary, and now he'd been put on the spot. It was a cheap trick, and Leah didn't care. If it got him to the doctor, she'd do whatever was necessary.

“Alright, what happened? Took a tumble, lad?” Her father came down the aisle with one of the barn managers in tow.

“I'm afraid so. A bit banged up, but I'll be fine.” Leah didn't believe him for a second. Based on the look in his eyes, Tristan didn't even buy his own bullshit.

Amy had moved most of the kids out of the area, so Tris could have a little privacy. Da lifted his shirt, and examined the injured flank. Angry bruises had already begun appearing. “Och. You need to go to the hospital, young man. I'm bettin' you broke two or three ribs. Nothing you want to mess with. Need your noggin checked, too.”

“I don't think that's really necessary.” His clipped boarding-school English sounded so assured, so confident. “I'll just
rest a bit and then I'll head back to the city. No need to trouble yourselves.”

“'Tis no trouble. You took a nasty spill off Reilly there. We'll take care of you.”

“Do I have a choice in the matter?” he asked.

Her father shook his head. “No, young man. You don't.”

Nate handed off both horses to one of the grooms. “I'll take him. Call Dr. Goldstein and see if he can meet us in the ER.”

At this point, Leah had stepped back. She didn't really know her place in this situation. Yes, he was her friend, but there were a lot of questions about the two of them. If she insisted on going with them that would get the entire family talking.

Nate took off his gloves and helmet and nodded in Leah's direction. “Can you give Tris a hand? I'm going to change quickly and let Jenna know what's going on.”

Her brother was gone before she could acknowledge him, and Leah was left alone with a very frustrated man. But with each twinge of pain, she could see all Tris wanted was relief.

“Do you want me to find you a change of clothes? Something easier to wear, like a pair of sweats?”

At first, he shook his head, but then looked up at her, his face gone pale, and nodded. “That would be great, love. I can't imagine I'm going to be very comfortable in these bloody boots.”

“Do you have anything with you? Or should I go to the house and grab something of Nate's?”

“I do. The keys are on the front seat of my car. Would you get my gym bag from the boot?”

She retrieved the bag and helped him get changed. It wasn't just a rib or his arm; his knee was bruised and there were abrasions all up and down the outside of his left thigh.

After getting him out of his riding clothes and into a pair of stretchy fleece pants, clean T-shirt, and a pair of athletic shoes, she settled him on the bench in the changing room. The poor guy was so banged up, and this affected her in more ways than one. First, her heart was breaking for him. Leah didn't want to see anyone in pain, especially someone she cared about. Second, seeing his body, touching him, as she helped him change, lit a fire low in her belly. She wanted him. He was battered and bloody, and all she could think about was getting him into bed.

That confirmed it. Leah was a horrible person.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, already knowing he felt like crap.

“Like I've been hit by a fucking double decker. That horse is the spawn of Satan.”

“Reilly? He's not so bad. I ride him all the time.”

“Well, the damn beast hates me,” he grumbled. “I don't understand. Small children and animals love me. They always love me.”

“Well, not that beastie. I'm thinking he probably doesn't like your accent,” Leah teased.

“Pardon? My accent?”

“He's an Irish Sport Horse. That could be part of the problem.” Bantering with him a little had to be better than fawning
all over his injuries. The excessive attention was obviously making him twitchy. She was learning more about Tris every day, and how to handle him.

Resting his head against the paneled wall behind him, Tristan cocked a brow. “The horse is prejudiced, then? Bastard.”

“We'll put you on Leland next time. He's a wonderful thoroughbred that Da bought in England, so he should like you fine.”

Tris started to laugh, but stopped the second the pain hit. Leah dropped next to him on the bench, feeling incredibly helpless. Holding his side, he looked over at her, and the only thing she saw was intense frustration. It hurt her to see it, and affected her on a deep level. It had been a very long time since Leah felt this way about anyone. There wasn't just one thing about Tristan that made her want him. Sure, the sex had been great, but his spirit, his intelligence, his wit, and his kindness had captured her heart. Seeing him hurt like this was tearing her up.

“Do you want me to go to the hospital with you?”
What had made her say that?

“Ah, no. Don't trouble yourself. I'll get checked out and then head home.”

Of course he didn't want her there, didn't need her to fuss.
Stay cool, Leah. Stay cool
. “Okay. Make sure you let me know how you are. I'm staying out here for a few days because I'm working on a case with a local securities firm.”

“Oh. Well, that's disappointing. I was hoping maybe we could have dinner. I'm probably going to work from home for a couple of days.”

“Perfect, we're flipping locations. You'll be in the city while I'm out here. It's usually the other way around.”

He grinned. “It is.”

They settled into silence for a bit and Leah made a point not to lean in or touch him for fear it might hurt. The problem was, he hurt no matter what.

“God, Leah. It's hard to breathe.”

“Maybe you need an ambulance?” She wasn't usually one to panic, but hearing him strain to take a breath was scary.

“An ambulance? I don't want—” He drew another breath and was in even more pain. “Shit.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed hard. “It was such a stupid thing to happen.”

“The hospital isn't far,” she reassured him. “Only about ten minutes.”

That was a lie. It was more like twenty.

Nate found them in the changing room, stopping short when he saw Tris holding Leah's hand. His friend was seriously hurt and her big brother was worried about whether or not she had a boyfriend. To his credit, he shook it off and didn't say anything.

“Let's get you in the car, big guy. They're going to be waiting for us with a wheelchair and get you right into X-ray. Our doctor will be there to handle everything.”

Nate helped Tris up from the bench and steadied him as he walked to the car. She didn't say anything because at that point Tristan was preoccupied with just moving. Everything was an effort, but as usual, Nate had the situation well under
control. She wasn't needed. It was going to be fine.

She sighed. Fine.

Nothing woke you up quicker than realizing you were in pain. Then to open your eyes, and not know where you were, was even worse. But once he adjusted, it all came flooding back. He moved carefully, deliberately. Memories of the previous day came flooding back in one horrible rush. Just thinking about the way he flipped off the spooked horse, spent hours in the emergency room, and finally realized that he couldn't drive himself back to the city, was giving him a headache on top of the pain he had everywhere else.

So here he was, in the small guest cottage on the Bayards' farm. The well-appointed stone house looked like a miniature of the main house, and was outfitted for a guest's every comfort. He slept well, but he had a feeling it was due to the heavy painkillers he was on. Now the medication had worn off, and he was fucking miserable.

The urge to take a piss pushed him into action, but the thought of getting out of bed was daunting. He couldn't avoid it forever, though, so slowly he moved his legs and gently pushed himself to a sitting position. His head spun. His muscles screamed, as did his ribs. He had three or four badly bruised ribs and one with a slight crack. Not serious, but enough to take him out of the game.

Once he'd been examined and x-rayed, the doctor announced that Tristan either had to be admitted to the hospital, or stay put locally for the next few days. Staying locally meant he was now a guest of Nate Bayard and his family.

They were very warm people, and had taken the news of his residence in the guest cottage with complete grace. His mother put the staff to work to prepare the space, gather some clothes for him to wear, and Sally, the housekeeper made him a light meal so, as she said, “You won't starve during the night.”

Leah hung back when he'd arrived from the emergency, and Nate told the family his diagnosis. Badly bruised ribs and a three-inch gash on his arm, which needed some stitches, not to mention the bruises everywhere else on his body. He hated that he was imposing on the family, but he couldn't deny he was relieved when Leah suggested he stay in the cottage for a couple of nights. It was close by, she reasoned, but he'd still have some privacy; he wouldn't have to travel, and he could relax while he was getting better. The family all agreed that it was a brilliant idea, but when he turned to thank Leah, she'd gone. She did, however, check on him before she went to bed for the night.

He could not get the woman out of his head. He liked the sweetness he saw in her personality when she was around her family, the animals, and the children. When she stopped in to say good night, she wasn't wearing anything except a pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt. And unlike the other night, this time she looked perfect. Her feet were tucked into a pair of bunny slippers, her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and her face was scrubbed clean. She was absolutely stunning. A Celtic beauty, with her long, fiery curls and freckled nose, Tristan had dreamed about her. He had a feeling he was going to be dreaming about her pretty often.

He managed to take care of business without killing himself, always a plus in his book, and went to the small kitchen
area of the cottage to see if there was anything to eat. He guessed that the fact that he had an appetite was probably a good sign that he didn't have to worry about his brain bleeding out.

Jesus. He hoped he didn't have to worry about that.

Bugger it.
His imagination was definitely getting the better of him. He didn't have a head injury, thank God, but he did need to find food.

Now that he wasn't completely doped up, he was able to take in the guest cottage. It was broken into two main spaces—the living area, which included the kitchen and living room, and the bedroom with the en suite bath. The areas were tied together with soothing earthy tones on the walls, wide-plank wood floors, and equestrian art. A large leather sofa faced an impressive stone fireplace in the living area, and the requisite flat-panel television sat perched on a corner chest. The kitchen, while small, was very functional with a table and chairs and flat-size appliances.

The bedroom was a bright space with a four-poster bed, and bedding that rivaled the finest hotels. No doubt about it, the Bayards took very good care of people who visited their home. Now he just needed to find some food.

He did a double take when he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror hung next to the door leading to the bedroom. Cripes. He was a mess. At best he looked like he'd been on an all-night bender, at worst he looked like a prison inmate. His face was covered in a day's growth of beard, and with his dark coloring, it was substantial. He was in borrowed clothes—Nate's, he gathered—and that made him wonder who was responsible for changing his clothes and getting him into bed. He didn't remember any of it.

Lifting the gray Harvard T-shirt, the triangle-shaped bruise on his side was immense, and a combination of angry colors. No wonder it hurt to move. He remembered the doctor telling him to take deep breaths to keep his lungs inflated, and considering how much he hurt, he seriously considered the physician was a fucking madman. He was going to be laid up for a while, and for a guy like Tris, who never stopped moving, there wasn't much that was worse.

Going back to the bedroom, he saw his clothes folded neatly on a chair. It seemed the best course of action for breakfast to take a short walk to the main house and see what he could rustle up. He vaguely remembered Sally, the Bayards' housekeeper, saying something about breakfast in the morning. The walk would definitely do him good. The last thing he needed was to stiffen up. Something else the demon doctor had promised would happen.

Carefully, he changed out of his sleep pants and into the sweats he was wearing yesterday. The T-shirt was staying put. Between his ribs and the sutures on the back of his arm he wasn't going to attempt to change that alone. Just as he was ready to leave the cottage, there was a light tapping on the door. He didn't even get a chance to turn the knob, when Leah entered the room and his day got measurably better.

She was dressed for work in a gray tweed skirt, high-heeled black boots, and a black sweater. There was nothing even slightly indecent about her outfit, but all Tristan could think about were the curves beneath her clothes. Soft, supple curves that he wasn't going to be touching for a very long time because they were just friends.

“Oh, you're up!” Leah, who was holding what appeared to be a picnic cooler, drew a hand to her chest. “I thought you
might still be sleeping.”

“I got up about fifteen minutes ago. I was about to throw myself on Sally's mercy and beg for breakfast.”

“No need to beg,” she said, holding up the cooler. “I have provisions right here. Sally put together several meals and snacks, so you wouldn't be hungry.”

Following her to the kitchen, he smiled as she started to unpack the bag. “Sally is a saint,” he murmured.

“You aren't the first to have said that. Let me go over what she's sent.” Touching each package, Leah gave him a rundown of what was inside and how to heat it up. “There's a list of directions right here if you forget.”

“I really appreciate this, Leah. Your family has been extremely kind.”

She nodded. “They're good people. Unfortunately, I have to go to work, but my mother said that she would check in on you today. You're also welcome to go by the house if you want some company. Just go in the back door.”

“I'm sure I'll be able to go back to my apartment tonight.” He hoped he could go back. Although the doctor had been very clear that he shouldn't drive for at least a week . . .

“Tris, I really hope you'll consider staying here for a few days. I know it must be strange to you, but you can't do very much on your own. You need help.”

“It's not your family's job to care for me. I can manage.”

“Maybe so, but . . .” She stepped to him and laid her hand on his chest. Immediately his body warmed at her touch. “I don't want you there by yourself. I'll worry.”

For a second, he thought he was being played. But everything he saw, from her voice, to her eyes, to her body language, told him she was sincere. She really would worry about him. And this was something completely new—no woman had ever cared only about him. They had cared about his money, his status, the trappings of his life, but never just about him.

Leah's emotions were real, and that simple fact caught him square in the chest.

“Alright. I'll stay. Until you're free to come back with me.”

“I guess that's fair.” The woman breathed an actual sigh of relief. “I live and work close enough to your apartment that I can easily check up on you.”

God, what had he gotten himself into? Leah nursing him back to health? That could completely do him in.

“Nate said he would run by your apartment and pick up clothes, toiletries, whatever you want. In the meantime, if you need anyone to run to the store, Jenna will be around. She said she'd check on you in a couple of hours, and your assistant said to call her if there was anything from the office you would like brought over.”

“Thank you. I'm going to owe everyone an eternal debt.”

“No debt. We take care of each other, and you're like one of the family. I grabbed your computer bag from the car and there's a charging station on the desk.” She pointed to an alcove tucked in near the dining area. “There are towels and anything you might need for a shower in the bathroom, but be careful, okay?”

He nodded.

“I have to go to work. Take it easy. Let people help you.” Leah's request reflected her deep concern.

“Again, thank you, love. I'll speak to you later?”

“I expect I'll be home around six o'clock. I'll check in with you then. If you'd like I'll bring dinner for both of us.”

“That sounds perfect.” And it did sound perfect. In his mind, there wasn't much that could beat out spending time with a beautiful redhead. Especially one that challenged everything he thought he knew about himself so completely. Without any warning, Leah stood on her toes, and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Once she left, Tristan knew he would be thinking about her all day.

*  *  *

Leah always loved the pace of her work in the city. At times, it was frenetic, out of control, but she thrived in the environment and loved the pressure. However, being able to work on the Island the last few days had definitely lowered the energy level and lessened the stress. It had actually been kind of nice.

Working as a private securities lawyer, Leah came across every kind of asshole. In lower Manhattan, where she worked, you couldn't turn around without bumping into one. After the debacle at her last job, with a man whom she'd trusted implicitly, Leah was fairly certain there weren't any nice guys left. Maybe, before he got married, her brother was the exception. But he was her brother, and it was gross to think about, so that didn't count.

Then she met Tristan, and all her promises to stay out of a relationship crumbled each time she set eyes on him. They were good friends, and Leah was totally unprepared for the barrage of emotions he caused. Talk about conflicted. Her focus had to be her career. She loved her work, and the last time a relationship got into the mix, she almost lost everything she'd been working for. No matter how attractive, how interesting, how wonderful Tristan was, she had to keep her head on straight. The connection to her brother and all the other people in her orbit made him too dangerous. It didn't make him less desirable, however, which was the problem.

“Hey, you're a million miles away.”

“Huh?” Leah looked up, and in the doorway of her temporary office was one of her sorority sisters, a woman she never particularly trusted, Ginger Kyle. “Did you say something?”

“Yeah. I asked if you wanted to go get lunch, but you were off in another dimension. Is everything okay?”

“Um . . . sure . . . a family friend took a fall off one of our horses yesterday. He's hurt and staying at the house right now. I was just thinking about him.”

“Ah. A friend? How good a friend?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean is he a friend, like for real, or are you being cryptic because you don't want to jinx something?”

“This isn't something I'm going to talk about. Where would you like to go for lunch?”

Leah hadn't meant to be so short with her colleague, but immediately, Ginger backpedaled. “I'm sorry. I was just
curious.”

“No, I'm the one who should apologize. I try to keep work and my personal life separate. It's just how I operate.” Especially since she'd been burned the last time she mixed work and pleasure.

And dating her boss was definitely the worst mix of all. Ginger didn't know the specifics, and she wasn't going to, but Leah would never make the same mistake again.

“I understand. Sorry. I really was just curious.”

“No worries. I'm sensitive about it.”

Ginger mentioned a small restaurant about a block away from the office, and it was like several other places in town, all catering to the working lunch. It was more of the same old thing. Lunch wasn't really a break or a way to connect with colleagues. Just like the city, it was all about the work. When her father worked down at the barn, he came up to the main house for lunch. He and her mother would sit for an hour, sometimes with their children, sometimes not, and talk. Leah was always amazed that her parents never ran out of things to say to each other. They were closer now, as they neared retirement, than she'd ever seen. Her mother's battle with breast cancer hit the whole family hard, but none more so than her father.

Mom was the love of his life and the diagnosis became her father's battle as much as it became her mom's. He went to every doctor's appointment, every chemo treatment, every scan. He held her hand, held her head while she vomited, and learned to tie a head scarf. Not a day went by that her father didn't make her mother feel beautiful, desired, and loved. More than anything, Mom felt loved.