Close Enough to Touch (22 page)

He would’ve lost his mind if he hadn’t walked into the yard and
spotted Grace. He smiled before he could stop himself. The purple strands of her
hair glinted in the sunlight, completely at odds with the pastoral scene behind
her—the mountains still striped with snow at the highest peaks, even in July.
The wild grass, golden and rippling like waves in the distance. And just behind
her, the spring house lurked, its dark wood frame leaning precariously to the
south, just as it had for the past twenty years. And in the foreground of it all
was Grace, wearing her tight black jeans and some sort of tunic with a
flirtatious nude girl painted on the side. Grace frowned, of course, unhappy
about something, but her black eyelashes curled up in cheerful sexiness against
pink eye shadow. Her lips were lush and rosy against her white skin.

She was so out of place. And exactly where she should be.

“Mr. Rawlins?” a young man asked. He was carrying a clipboard
and looked about seventeen.

“Just a second,” Cole said absentmindedly. “I’ll be right
back.” He headed across the yard, straight toward Grace. She was talking to Eve
now, nodding, still serious.

“Are you sure?” Grace was asking.

“Absolutely. I would have mentioned it sooner, but I forgot
that Michael had moved to Vancouver. I’ll call him tonight when I get back to
the office if you think you’d be interested.”

“Of course I would be. Thank you so much.”

“When do you plan on going?”

Cole stopped short a few feet away.

Grace was turned half away from him, but he could hear her
clearly. He could see her mouth forming the words. “If I can get a job lined up,
I’ll move on in a week or two. But not if you still need me. I wouldn’t do that
to you.”

“No, once preproduction is done, I’ll be…” Eve’s words died as
she met Cole’s eyes. “Is everything okay?”

No. No, everything was not okay. His ears were filled with a
rushing sound that seemed to have nothing to do with the breeze lifting Grace’s
hair off her shoulders.

“Hey, Cole,” she said casually.

What had she been saying? She was leaving?
But not if you need me.
Her? Eve? “What the hell’s going on,
Grace?”

“Uh,” Eve said. “I’ll leave you two alone. If that’s what you
want, Grace.”

Grace nodded, though she kept her glare straight on Cole as Eve
moved away.

She hadn’t been saying that, had
she?

“I’m in the middle of a business conversation, Cole. What’s
wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with
me?
You’re
leaving?
”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re leaving Jackson,” he said, more certain of what he’d
heard now. His pulse tripped and tumbled. “After what you said last night,
you’re just standing here talking about taking off.”

“What did I say last night?”

He couldn’t believe this. It was happening again. Promises and
lies and then a casual goodbye as if he barely even had a right to that.

“Cole—”

“You said you were going to stay.”

“I did not. I didn’t say anything like that.”

“You’re kidding, right? Do you not remember anything we talked
about last night?”

She crossed her arms and looked at him as if he was the bad
guy. “Of course I remember. I whined about my life and then I said I was going
to change it. I didn’t say anything about staying in
Wyoming!
”

“Staying in Wyoming,” he murmured, not quite able to draw
enough breath. She said it as if it was the most absurd phrase ever spoken. The
most ridiculous idea ever posed. Staying in Wyoming. With him. “Right. Of
course. Why would you ever stay here? Unless, of course, Eve Hill needed help.
Then you might stay. Or if your aunt offered you a place to live. Or if you had
nowhere else to go. Other than that, why would you even
think
of staying, Grace?”

She shook her head. “I don’t get what you’re upset about. I’m
going to Vancouver. I told you that before.”

“Yeah, you did. And then last night, I thought… Jesus, what
does it matter? You’re going. That’s it, right?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Eve thinks she might be able to
find me a job.”

“Well, then, you’d better run as fast as you can, Grace. You’ve
got a job waiting for you out there. Anything else? Or is it just the job?
Nothing more meaningful than that? Just like this vacant apartment in this
shitty little town. One little dot on the map to keep you going. One more
meaningless physical connection to the earth since there’s nothing else holding
you down.”

Her eyes blazed for a moment, showing amber in the depths of
brown. But she shook her head and blew out a slow, deep breath. “I’m sorry if
you misunderstood me.”

“I didn’t misunderstand shit. I see you, Grace. I see you and I
thought I liked the real girl inside you. Last night, you were honest. For once.
And I thought I liked you. But now you’re back to lying and running. You’re back
to fear.”

She glanced around as if she were afraid someone might hear.
She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I’m not afraid. I’m looking for
something real.”

“A job?”

“Yes, a job! And hope. A future. Eve thinks maybe she has an in
with a scouting company. So, I can do the stuff I’ve been doing for her.”

“Listen to yourself. You want to go all the way to Vancouver in
hopes of what? The same job you actually have here?”

“This isn’t the place for me,” she said on a furious
whisper.

“Why?”

“You already said it yourself. I don’t belong here. I don’t fit
in.”

“You don’t belong anywhere,” he snapped.

Grace gasped and stumbled back from him.

“You don’t want to belong. You have no idea who you’d be if you
fit in. People accept you here, Grace. You want to talk about Wyoming like it’s
some backwater, but people
like
you here. So if you
don’t fit in, it’s because you’re throwing your arms out and yelling that you
won’t be made to. Stop pretending like it’s everyone else. It’s you.”

“I know it’s me, damn you,” she snarled. “You don’t get to
throw that at me like it’s going to hurt.”

He shook his head. “What you said last night—I’m not the one
who misunderstood it. You are.”

“I know what I meant!”

“Do you? Because you said you were ready to stop running. Ready
to stop living like you didn’t have anything valuable to lose.”

“I’m not running,” she snapped.

“And not losing anything either, I suppose?”

She raised her chin and stared him down. He held her gaze,
trying to force her to show him something. Anything. But her eyes were black and
depthless.

New pain bloomed in his body, and it had nothing to do with his
leg. “Okay, then. I guess you were right. You’d better go on and build something
real somewhere, because you sure as hell haven’t pulled it off here.”

Thunder rumbled from the east as he turned and stalked away.
She didn’t stop him. She didn’t even make a sound.

Something valuable. Right. That wasn’t him. It hadn’t been him
when he was young and whole, and it sure as hell wasn’t him as a broken-down
cowboy. She’d made that clear from the start. She was right. He was the one
who’d misunderstood.

Jesus. He hadn’t learned a damn thing.

He stalked past the boy with the clipboard, ignoring his
outstretched hand.

“Mr. Rawlins!”

“It’s Cole,” he barked, still moving toward the big house. He
was done with this shit. Done with Easy and his sadistic manipulation. Either
Cole was good enough to run this place or he wasn’t. Either he was a man and a
cowboy and a boss, or he wasn’t.

“Mr. Cole!”

“Christ.” He paused on the front porch, one hand on the door.
“What the hell is it? Somebody in urgent need of a lasso demonstration? Or can I
offer to walk you to the bathroom trailer and wipe your ass for you?”

The kid blinked, his eyes huge in his face.

Cole sighed. “I’m sorry. What is it?”

“Ms. Beckingham! She was supposed to be back an hour ago and
she’s still gone.”

Great. Just what he needed. A stubborn director lost on an
adventure. “I’m sure she and Jeremy lost track of time. You can’t reach her on
the phone?” But he already knew the answer. If you could get a signal up here,
it dropped off as soon as you got into the trees.

“Let’s give it another fifteen minutes—” Thunder fell in from
the east again, rumbling and rolling like stones. Cole looked up to see a bolt
of lightning light up the next hill. Not good. It looked like dusk out there and
it was only 3:00 p.m. “Maybe you should let her security detail know.”

“I already did. They took a truck in the direction she went,
but it ends in a trail.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to—”

This time it wasn’t rolling thunder that cut him off but the
gunshot crack of lightning close by. Several of the crew members shrieked, and
everybody sprang into action to gather up equipment or cover their work with
tarps. The wind shifted and suddenly went cold.

Cole rushed through the big house and found Easy in his office.
“Have you seen any of the guys around?”

“Most of the men are doing a pasture move today.”

“All right.” He rushed out and checked the barn just to be
sure, then grabbed his saddle and chaps. The kid with the clipboard followed
behind him.

“You’re sure?” Cole asked. “They’re that late?”

“Yes. She was supposed to be back at two o’clock. We’re going
to the river one last time. Ms. Beckingham’s plane is chartered to leave at
five-thirty.”

“Okay. I’m heading up to look for them.” Lightning flashed over
their heads. A deafening crack followed. He tried to remember when he’d first
heard the thunder, even if he hadn’t registered it. But he had no idea. He’d
been distracted. And heck, half the sky was still blue. Unfortunately, it was
the wrong half. The clouds moving from the east were nearly black.

Cole shouldered his saddle and headed for the corral. His big
mare looked at him warily when he approached, but gave a shiver of satisfaction
when he laid the blanket over her back. Cole would’ve shivered, too, for a
different reason. But adrenaline was working through his bloodstream, keeping
him from thinking too much about what he was doing.

“You ready to ride, girl?” he asked as he went through the
familiar motions. Watching his own hands was like watching a movie. He could’ve
done this in his sleep, yet it felt as if he’d never seen it before. His pulse
was heavy and loud, but strangely slow.

He snugged the front cinch, then finished up quickly before
patting her rump. “Be gentle, all right?”

She turned her head toward him and then away. He was slipping
his boot into the stirrup when another bolt of lightning blasted the hill. She
danced and snorted, and he slid his foot free. Now his pulse sped up. Just a
little. Just enough to make him nervous.

“All right,” he murmured. “Nothing we haven’t done before.”
Cowboys didn’t turn in every time it rained. On cue, a drop hit his hand. Then
another, so heavy it stung almost like hail. He put his boot back into place and
mounted his horse. At first, it felt fine. A little stretch in his hip. Nothing
more. He felt a stab of relief so sharp that the breath flew out of his lungs
like he’d been punched.

They’d been wrong. The doctors and therapists and specialists.
They’d tortured him for nothing. They’d been wrong and he’d been right.

But once he moved off the wide, flat dirt around the corral
area and started the climb up the trail, he settled into the saddle and felt a
deep twinge in his hip.

He shifted and tried to relax into it, but that just made the
pain worse.

Cole took a deep breath and tightened his thighs, trying to
transfer his weight forward. That helped. A little. But he was barely into the
trees and he could feel every shift of the mare beneath him, every terrible
thump of her hooves. The pain moved deeper into his pelvis. Then his spine.

He shouldn’t have done this. This would make it worse.

Then again, if he wasn’t healed now, he was never going to be
right again. He knew that. He could see it in the faces of every person who
brought it up.
How’s your leg, Cole? How’s your hip?
That concern he pretended not to see. The sorrow they tried to hide.

Cole grunted and put his head down and told himself it didn’t
hurt as much as it did.

As the trail got steeper, he gave up his fight and let his body
ease back until he was leaning back farther than he normally would. That wasn’t
bad, actually. It put a lot of the weight on his tailbone instead of his hips.
In fact, aside from the sharp stretch of unused muscles, it felt almost fine.
Until another crack of lightning broke the day and his mare stumbled. She caught
herself quickly and settled back into a walk, but the jolt sent fire up his
bones.

Cole cursed and gritted his teeth. Fear began to eat his
adrenaline and, between that and the pain, sweat broke out and the wind turned
it to ice. But it hardly mattered. Another flash of lightning seemed to be the
starting gun for the rain, and it fell in a sudden explosion of sound. He was
slightly protected by the trees, but not from the branches that slapped into
him, dragging over his chaps and trying to knock his hat free.

At one point his mount startled and lurched forward, but she
was a damn good horse, and even with his weight balanced so strangely on her,
she only raced a few feet before slowing again.

She picked her way confidently over rocks and didn’t hesitate
for a second when the trail skirted along an exposed cliff. Cole wasn’t so sure,
though. He made himself sit upright, despite the pain. He didn’t want to throw
her off in any way, and he needed to be able to see over the edge. Likely
Madeline and Jeremy had been caught in the storm and taken shelter. But just in
case, he kept his eyes on the ridge of rock fifty feet below.