I am Not Your Melody: (steamy cowboy romance) (15 page)

“Thank you, Lord,” she said, her eyes closed, her breath finally returning to normal. “That could have been really bad. Really bad. But I’m okay — thank you, thank you.”

***

Bill didn’t like waiting around. It was snowing too hard out now for Allie to make it home in her rear-wheel drive car, especially since she had zero experience driving in bad weather. He had tried to call her cell phone to let her know he was coming to pick her up — that they could get her car in the morning, after the roads had been plowed and salted — but she didn’t answer.

Maybe her phone had died. Maybe she was getting ready to leave right now, completely oblivious to the driving conditions.

To hell with it
. Bill was going to pick her up, whether Allie wanted him to or not. She’d be safer driving home as a passenger in his four-wheel-drive truck than she would be trying to navigate the icy roads herself.

Bill was halfway to the bar when he saw—

No. No damn it No No

—the passenger-side of Allie’s little blue car with Florida plates was crashed up against a thick evergreen tree. Broken pine branches and glass littered the road the sidewalk.

Allie don’t do this to me—

Bill jumped out of his truck before it had even rolled to a stop, hoping his heavy boots wouldn’t slide on the slick road. He could see her… her head was back, her eyes closed. In the driver side.

A car crash.

It could NOT happen again NO it could NOT happen AGAIN—

“Allie, please—” he said, throwing the door of her car open.

Allie’s eyes opened and her head snapped up in surprise. She winced at the sudden movement, then smiled.

“Bill — you’re here!”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry —
she’s alive!
— and it came out as a strangled laugh somehow, his eyes burning with unshed tears at the horror he’d thought he might have walked up on.

“Are you okay?” he asked, urgency in his voice.

“I’m fine,” she said, and she sounded like she meant it. “The car’s not, though.”

Bill put his hands inside the car, carefully feeling her neck, her spine, running down her whole body, checking for injuries the way he had learned to do back when he was a volunteer firefighter.

“Does it hurt here?” he asked as he checked her out.

“No,” Allie said. “I really am fine. I think I hurt my thumb… don’t know how.”

She unbuckled her lap belt, and carefully stepped out of the car. The thumb on her left hand was already beginning to swell.

Bill wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her, resisting the urge to squeeze her as tightly as he could, because he didn’t want to hurt her.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” he said fiercely. “You gave me a scare.”

“Did you see the crash?”

“I saw you… with your eyes closed —” his voice broke.

“I’m so sorry I scared you,” she said. “You can see yourself, I’m totally fine.”

He nodded, swallowing hard, tightening his hug around her despite himself. “A part of me died inside the moment I saw you like that.”

“I had my eyes closed because I was literally thanking God that I was fine,” she said. “So bring that little part inside of you back to life, okay?”

She smiled up at him reassuringly, as if to remind him that she was
all right
. She was not his Melody.

Bill held her injured hand in his, inspecting it. “I bet that airbag broke your thumb at the same time it saved your life.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Allie said softly. “The tree hit the side of the car, I was wearing my seatbelt, and I had airbags. It’s just one of those things. I’m fine. I’m here.”

He walked her carefully back to his truck, and lifted her up so she didn’t have to pull herself up onto the high-up seat.

“I hope you have some aspirin or something at the ranch,” Allie said, cradling her hand.

Bill stared straight ahead as he drove, concentrating on getting to the hospital two towns over, safely. “Gettin’ you checked out tonight,” he said. He would accept no argument on that. “And I’ll call Joe to tow your car tomorrow.”

Allie’s hand shook as she wrapped her arms around herself in the passenger seat. It must be from the adrenaline rush she’d experienced during the crash.

“No point in fixin’ up that car,” Bill told her. “What’s good in Miami isn’t any good in north Idaho. You need somethin’ with four wheel drive and studded tires.”

That was the last thing he said to her for the rest of the night. It wasn’t on purpose… he just…

Car crash
. It was as if his past was coming back to remind him that he’d screwed up. Screwed up by daring to think he had a future ahead of him with Allie.

She could be taken from him at any moment. That was something that he knew now, knew for sure. And surely Allie too must know — since her husband left her — that Bill could leave her at any moment, as well.

It was impossible to bare one’s heart to another when you know too much.

And Bill… he knew too much.

***

Allie wrapped a plastic bag around her casted hand, and let it drape over the side of the tub as she soaked away the tension from her body.

The car crash had frightened her, yes — but what had frightened her more was Bill’s reaction to it. She’d triggered him, and he’d gone into survival mode it seemed. It was like he was on autopilot. Once he knew she was okay, it was as if he’d shut off.

Completely detached from her, both emotionally and physically.

Yes, he’d taken care of her. Taken her to the hospital, stayed with her the whole time until he was able to drive her home, and make her a grilled cheese sandwich.

He had turned the radio on to the news, to cover the growing silence in the house. Not the comfortable silence they enjoyed as they sat together eating breakfast and sharing parts of the Bear Creek Saddle Gazette, or sitting and reading, sharing the same blanket, her feet on his lap. No… the silence had been different. It said…
I have something to say that I can’t…so I won’t
. Or maybe just,
There are too many thoughts swirling in my head to know what to say… so I will say nothing
.

She hoped she was wrong. Maybe Bill was just scared, and tired. Obviously seeing a car crash was going to trigger him to think about losing his wife. But that didn’t mean he was done with Allie, right? Is it only been a couple of hours before, that they were smiling with each other, embracing in the hallway, and he had invited her to stay at his house for a while longer.

Stay with me
.

That’s what he had told her. And it scared her too, it went against every protective instinct she had to put herself in a position to be emotionally injured by a man again. Still… if it turned out that Bill was scared of being with her now because of the crash — because of all the bad memories it brought bubbling to the surface — then she would have to tell him the same thing.

Stay with me
.

Chapter Fourteen

Allie awoke early the morning after the car crash, aching all over. She popped one of the few extra-strength non-narcotic pain pills the doctor at the emergency room had prescribed to her to use for the first week or so, until the pain in her broken thumb and the muscle aches subsided.

It took a little longer than usual to get dressed with only one good hand. How was she going to pour drinks at the grand opening party?

Allie limped to the kitchen for coffee, despite not having injured her lower body at all. Just annoying muscle cramps left over from tensing every bit of her body during the impact. It was as if her body was saying “What did you do to me??”

Ugh. She might be off her game, but at least she could be off her game and
caffeinated
.

One of Bill’s socks was on the floor, probably dropped either on its way into or out of the laundry room. Wincing, she leaned down and picked it up. A pair of his boxer-briefs was also on the floor.

She picked up another couple of small items of clothing as she followed the trail into the back of the small house, to his bedroom.

The door to his room lay open, which was unusual for Bill. Maybe with his arms full of laundry, he just hadn’t been able to shut it.

“You dropped some,” Allie said, standing in the doorway.

“Just put it on the bed with the rest.”

Something was wrong between them, still. Bill was behaving differently around her, distancing himself ever since the accident last night. Practically ignoring her.

“It’s not your usual laundry day,” she noted. “Something up?”

“No. Nothin’.”

Bill folded the clean clothes from the dryer with slow, methodical skill. It wasn’t strange that her jack-of-all-trades cowboy could keep house, too, but she’d never have guessed it by looking at him.

Allie walked over to the bed where he had all his clothes piled up, and picked up one of his big black T-shirts. She folded it and set it to the side, reaching for another shirt.

“If you really want to help,” Bill said, “you can put the folded ones in there.”

He pointed to a big duffel bag — green-drab and probably from the Army surplus store in town — on the floor by his bed.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Fear and anxiety twisted her stomach. There was no reason for Bill to be packing. Where did he think he was going? They had a future together. A bar to open in only three days.

“Your apartment is ready for you to move into,” Bill said quietly. “You need to get your stuff together as well. I’ll help you move everything over tonight.”

“Tonight?” Adrenaline rushed through her, making all of her pain disappear. “That’s it? You’re just… kicking me out?”

“I’m not kicking you out,” Bill said. “You bought that apartment when you bought your half of the bar. It’s where you’re s’posed to live.”

The clothes… the duffel bag. “Are you… moving into my apartment with me?” she asked, with a touch of hope she knew was futile.

This couldn’t be the end. Why did he want her to leave? It didn’t matter that the apartment was hers. She liked living with him, being with him.

Bill shook his head. “I can’t do this, Allie. I thought I could, but that was stupid of me.” He took a breath, his strong hands gripping the laundry, wrinkling it. “For a little while there, I thought… to hell with it. My past don’tt matter if I can be with — have the bar with — you.”

Allie grabbed his hands, making him drop the balled-up shirt onto the floor. “That’s true, Bill. That’s
still
true. So why are you kicking me out?”

“I was wrong about everythin’,” Bill said. “
I can’t do this
. You have to move out — into your own apartment. I’m goin’ to sell the ranch to Zach and the guys; it should be theirs anyways. And you… I’m gonna let you buy out my half of the bar. You can own it yourself.”

Her head reeled from all of the information he had just thrown at her at once. “I can’t afford to buy the whole bar,” she said. “But that doesn’t matter right now… I understand wanting to sell the ranch, since now we have the bar, together. But if you sell me the bar
and
you sell your ranch, what do you have left? What are you going to do?”

Bill shrugged, gently extracting himself from her hold on his hands.

A sudden fear gripped her. He was getting rid of everything. “You’re not going to do anything crazy, are you?”

“I’ve got a huntin’ cabin I haven’t used in too long. It’s deeper into the mountain. Less people. With a little work, I can live there full-time.” He paused, avoiding her stare. “I’m better off on my own.”

His words hit her like a slap in the face. Allie could run now, and hold onto her dignity. But she couldn’t let him go without a fight. He had to know she
wanted
him. Needed him.

“This is all because of me,” she said, her voice breaking. “We have something good, Bill. You don’t have to ruin it all.” Tears welled up in her eyes but she fought them back. “Please don’t leave.”

“You could’ve died, Allie!” Bill grabbed her shoulders, his grey eyes finally looking directly into her own. “Don’t you see that?”

She flinched, frightened by the intensity in his gaze, at how firmly he held her in his iron grasp. But he didn’t shake her, didn’t hurt her. At least not with his hands.

“If you hadn’t been wearin’ your seatbelt,” he said, his voice raising, “if you hadn’t turned the wheel at the last second, or if any other
dozens of factors
hadn’t worked perfectly the way they did — you would be
dead
right now. I can’t lose you like that, Allie.” His face was flushed, his voice raw with emotion.

“But I didn’t die,” Allie said, “I wasn’t even close. I’m fine. I walked away with a little tiny fractured thumb.” She tried to smile, to prove just how okay she was, but she couldn’t.

“I tried, Allie,” Bill said, dropping his hands from her shoulders. “I tried to see, what would it be like to let myself get close to you. But it’s not worth it, it ain’t worth the pain. At any moment I could lose you. You could lose me… just like you lost your own husband, fool that he was when he left you.”

Tears stung Allie’s eyes. “Yes. I am fully aware that when you’re in a relationship with somebody you care about, there’s always a chance you could lose that other person at any time.”

It was something that had stopped Allie before. But it wouldn’t now. “I’m not willing to live in fear, not anymore,” she said. “Our bar’s grand opening is on Saturday! I want you with me, by my side. Please, Bill.”

Bill shook his head slowly. “It’s just like with Melody, all over again. I can’t do it. I won’t do it. You can have the bar…forget the money. I’ll sign it over to you.”

At any other time in her life, Allie would of been ecstatic to hear those words — that she could be the sole owner of her business. But not now, not like this.

“I don’t want your half of the bar,” she said, her voice breaking. “I want you. I want you there, as my partner.”

But Bill didn’t seem to be listening. He was back to the task on hand like an automaton, folding clothes, putting them in his bag. One after another.