Runaway Cowboy (7 page)

“Don't go there. Find something else to talk about, or I'll turn the radio on and sing at the top of my lungs.”

“Okay,” he said with a chuckle. “Anything but that.”

She knew he was kidding. It was common knowledge for anyone who'd spent time at the ranch that she loved country music, but she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. She didn't care. She found pleasure in torturing those around her with her personal musical stylings, even if it was bad enough to send the barn cats into hiding.

This was the easy friendship she remembered between them, the relationship she regretted losing. She missed having him there to offer advice when Derek almost didn't graduate high school because a teacher accused him of losing a textbook. She missed laughing with him when Scott screamed like a woman after Derek dropped a rope by the water trough in the corral, making it look like a snake. She missed crying on his shoulder when she woke from another nightmare where her mother was reaching out from the fiery crash. More than anything else, she missed the way he would stand behind her and wrap his arms around her, making her feel completely enveloped and safe, while he whispered into her ear how far and wide and forever his love was.

Regret and longing twined in her chest, wrapping around her lungs and making her feel like she couldn't catch her breath. The playfulness of the moment was gone, lost again to her memories and the bitterness that always trailed closely behind. He seemed to sense the change in her and reached for the radio knob, in spite of his words.

“Wait.” Her hand reached out and covered his. Electricity seemed to jump from the connection, traveling up her arm and shocking her heart. “Just tell me why you left. No excuses. One minute you were there and we were happy, and the next you were gone. Why?”

Clay withdrew his hand from under her fingers as if her touch burned. “Are you sure you want to do this here? Now?” His gaze met hers for a brief moment before returning to the road, but she could see the honesty in his eyes. And the fear. “I can't explain everything.”

He ran a hand over his face. “The first thing you need to know is that I loved you from the first moment I saw you, Jennifer.” When she didn't say anything, he went on. “I planned on marrying you, on spending the rest of my life with you, but after you said yes, I realized how little I had to offer you.”

Clay shook his head. “I was only twenty-two, you were barely twenty, and you already had a family to take care of. I couldn't support all of you, and I didn't want to live off Mike's charity.”

She interrupted him. “You think that's what we've done?”

“No, I . . . damn it. That's not what I meant.” He looked at the road, avoiding her questioning gaze. “You three have built this company with Mike, but I'm just the loser who would have been milking my wife's hard work. I couldn't do that.”

“Clay—”

“Hear me out. You deserved far more than I could ever offer you. I got scared you'd realize it, and I ran.”

She could hear the anguish in his voice. “You left because you thought you weren't good enough for me? Clay, you never had to
earn
my love,” she whispered. “It was always yours.”

“I wanted to save you from making a mistake. And I had to close a few chapters of my life.”

She stared at him, silent for so long that he finally turned to look at her. As much as she wanted to believe him, her instinct told her he was holding back. He said there were some things he couldn't explain. Couldn't or
wouldn't
, she wondered. This wasn't making sense.

“I was old enough to tell you I loved you, to share my bed with you, but not to make the decision to marry you?”

“I don't know how to explain what I was thinking. I thought you'd look back down the road and regret our life together, so I made the decision for you.” He reached for the front of his baseball cap and shifted the hat on his head. “In retrospect, I made a mistake, but at the time, I thought I was doing the right thing. I was protecting you.”

“I'm not buying this, Clay. I want to, believe me. What do you mean, ‘protecting me'?”

He shifted his eyes back to the road, refusing to meet hers again. “I don't know what else you want me to say.”

“The truth.” She rubbed her hands along the top of her thighs, trying to work out the details in her mind. “Even if what you're telling me is true, why did you call Scott and Mike? Why didn't you ever return my calls? Why did you stay away so long?” She turned to face him, her hand at the back of the seat next to his shoulder. “Why did you come back now?”

The muscle in his jaw was ticking. She could see that wall rising up again, spreading the chasm between them and making her wonder if the gap was too wide to ever bridge.

“Clay, you wanted a chance to explain, so explain. I want to know, please.”

He barely glanced her way, but she didn't miss the way his hands gripped the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. Or the way his nostrils flared and his lips pinched together. Without saying another word, he reached forward and turned on the radio, effectively cutting off any further discussion and any hope she had for understanding what had gone wrong.

Chapter Five

J
EN WOKE THE
next morning to silence in the kitchen downstairs. Usually the cacophony of her brothers and Mike and any of the crew who snuck in to be fed by Silvie was enough to wake the dead. She glanced at her nightstand, wondering if she had overslept, but the clock simply blinked back at her, indicating that they'd lost power at some point after she'd fallen asleep last night. She flung the blankets back and jumped from the bed, hurrying to grab her cell phone from the dresser against the wall. If the sun filtering through her window was any indication, it was after eight, and she needed to get started grooming the horses before the boys arrived this afternoon.

She glanced at the phone. How in the world had she managed to sleep until nine? The horses must be starving by now. She rushed through her morning routine, only taking a quick swipe through her tresses with the brush before pulling her hair under a baseball cap and tossing on an old T-shirt with a comfortable pair of jeans. She slid her feet into her worn Ropers, hurrying down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“I already fed them.” Clay sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee, his legs crossed casually at the ankles.

“Uh, thanks?”

“Is that a question?” He quirked a brow as he took another sip of the brew. “I just started a fresh pot. Silvie headed into town to the grocery store before everyone comes home this afternoon.” He pushed the chair in front of him out with his foot. “Sit, I'll fix you something for breakfast.”

She wanted to sit, to pretend that this was what they did every day, like any normal couple. But they weren't a regular couple anymore. He'd turned his back on that normalcy. He'd even rejected her offer of forgiveness yesterday. If only he would explain. Then they could move forward, past this stubborn stalemate, into some semblance of tolerance.

Irritation at his blasé attitude burned in her chest as she moved toward the cabinet and reached for a travel mug, ignoring the chair. “I have work to do today. You know, horses to be ridden and groomed, and stalls to clean before the boys get home. But by all means, you should feel free to put your feet up and relax until they get home today.” She grabbed a piece of fruit from the bowl Silvie kept filled on the kitchen table and clipped the lid over the top of her mug before waltzing out the back door.

She didn't have time to bicker with him today, but, oh, how the thought of the two of them, alone on the ranch, made an unwelcome sizzle of excitement spiral to parts of her long ignored.

C
LAY WATCHED HER
go, cursing himself for his stupidity. What the hell was wrong with him? He should have just told her the truth yesterday when she asked. His pride was going to ruin every good thing in his life, just like it always had. Jen would have understood the need to take care of family; she'd been doing it for years with her brothers. What she wouldn't understand was his need to leave again, to keep her safe from his past.

He walked to the back door and watched her head for the barn. Clay thought about following her for a second, but he'd never seen Jen like this before. Maybe Mike was right: he needed to be careful not to push her too much, but he wasn't about to let her get too far from his sight.

“I'll clean the stalls. Just go ahead and work the horses,” he called after her. He saw her raise a hand in acknowledgment.

There was nothing friendly in her gesture, nothing to give him any hope that they might be able to rebuild their friendship.
At least she didn't flip me the bird.

He wasn't sure why it even mattered, since he wasn't staying. Mike had asked him to stay for a week until Jake returned, so unless he wanted to marry the woman and put the whole family in jeopardy, he was just making it harder on both of them when it came time for him to leave.

Marry her?
Where had that thought come from?

Jen had no intention of being in the same room as him right now, let alone marrying him. He'd had his chance, and he'd tossed it away.

Clay wandered onto the porch, watching Jen as she walked through the aisleway of the barn. Damn, that woman could stir him in ways no other could. She might be a tomboy, but beneath her rough-and-tumble exterior, she was all soft femininity. She'd always worked as hard as any of the men on the ranch, probably even harder. He remembered nights when she'd helped both Scott and Derek with their homework before heading back out to groom the animals after sending the boys off to bed. While they attended school, she'd worked her butt off on the ranch, sacrificing her own education to make sure they both got degrees. She hadn't taken the role of mothering them lightly. Nor had she slacked off on becoming a shrewd businesswoman. So far, she'd marketed their company better than any of them, helping the business grow from a small-town contractor to an elaborate, full-scale operation, with several full-time employees on the crew.

She was brilliant and beautiful. Clay continued to watch her from a distance, just like he'd done for nearly six months before she noticed him. Back then, he'd deliberately made himself invisible. He knew he didn't deserve someone like Jen. She was so far out of his league that he wasn't fit to clean her horse's stall. He'd been nothing more than a stall cleaner with a chip on his shoulder and a past he wanted to forget. A guy like him couldn't bring anything of value into her life. Some things hadn't changed with time.

Clay leaned over the porch railing, watching her saddle a big bay horse, a nice-looking gelding with two white socks and a blaze. He'd look great under saddle in the opening ceremonies, and Clay wondered if that was what she had planned for him.

Jen had a good life with Mike and her brothers. It wasn't right to drag her down with the problems that plagued his family. It was part of why he'd left. He'd wanted to protect her from the trouble that seemed to follow him like a karmic gift from hell. The last few text messages he'd received from his sister weren't making him feel too optimistic that his life was on an upswing now either. No, if he really cared about Jen, he'd make himself invisible for the next week and then vanish from her life again.

Jen stumbled, falling against the horse's rump and glanced back in his direction. She knew he was watching her and was trying not to catch his eye, but it didn't deter him in the slightest. For the past five years, he'd had to make due with only a picture and his memories. He wasn't about to shortchange himself when he had the flesh-and-blood woman in front of him. He'd forgotten little things about her that he'd loved: the way she walked, with her chin just slightly dipped down and her shoulders back as if daring the world to test her; her eyes that dared defiance but, at the same time, showed a compassion he'd rarely seen from anyone else; the way her hips swayed just slightly, rolling with a feminine grace that came from feeling comfortable in her own athletic skin rather than practiced flirtation. She was all woman, and at one time, she'd been all his.

He spun on his heel and walked back into the house, unable to bear the jealousy twisting his gut. Just because he'd been her first, didn't mean he was her last. Who knew how many men she'd dated since he left? He deliberately hadn't asked Scott about her love life. He hadn't wanted to know, but now he was curious why she was still single when she didn't have to be. She mustn't be dating anyone now. She'd have told him, if for no other reason than to remind him of what he'd lost, and he wondered why she was still alone. He knew Jen always planned on having a family of her own, outside of raising her brothers. Now that they were grown men, or well on their way, why was she still devoting all of her time to her brothers and the company? A twinge of hope rose. Could it be that she still had feelings for him?

The soft
clomp
of shod hooves on the dirt caught his attention, and he hurried to the front door in time to see her head out across the pasture toward the lake. She pulled her hat low on her brow, but he didn't need to see her face to know she was upset. He could speculate why. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out his presence back at the ranch had her pissed off and ready to do battle.

He left the house, crossed the yard, and ran into the barn, where he retrieved a bridle from the tack room, slipping it over the halter on a sorrel mare. Jumping on her bareback, he followed Jen, hanging back far enough that she wouldn't notice him. He watched her ride, letting the horse open up to a full gallop. The lake had always been her refuge when she felt circumstances closing in on her. Clay hated himself for causing the turmoil within her. He shouldn't have gone to the rodeo, he shouldn't have let Mike talk him into coming back here, and he never should have kissed Jen.