To Wed a Rancher (14 page)

“I think…we should both leave today,” he said. “Now. It's what we planned, anyway. Just earlier than expected. I'll make some calls, take you to the airport, get you on an early flight and…”

“No.” She touched his hand. “Don't drive me.” She couldn't bear a public goodbye at an airport. “I'll leave now. Hank can pick up the car. Ruby will make sure I have transportation. I think this is the way we should end. Here at the ranch. Maybe…this minute.” Because if they didn't end right now, she was surely going to let her tears fall.

“If you like.”

No. There was no
like
about it. She wanted the impossible. She wanted Shane. However she could have him. She had become one of those women Ruby comforted.

Without another second of hesitation, Rachel looped one arm around his neck and kissed him quickly. “This was the best summer ever,” she said fiercely. “Kiss Lizzie goodbye for me and give her some extra oats. Make sure the new people aren't mean to her. And—”

“Rachel—” Shane's voice broke. He pulled her hard against his chest and his lips met hers. She leaned into him as tears threatened.

Just a few seconds more,
she pleaded.
Don't cry now. Don't, Rachel.
She ran for the car, climbed in and hit the gas. Shane disappeared from her rearview mirror.

And the tears fell.

 

Shane kicked the wall. He kicked a few other things, too. She was gone. Gone forever. And the look in her eyes…

Something was wrong. And he was pretty sure that he knew what it was. Rachel wasn't a jump-into-bed kind of woman. She wouldn't do that lightly. But when that call had come this morning it had caught him by surprise. So much so that the sense of loss at ending things so quickly and finally had hit him sledgehammer hard, and he had just wanted to get past it. He'd been callous in his suggestion that they end it now. Hell, he hadn't said any of the things he'd wanted to say. Things like,
Thank you for being you, thank you for bringing light into my life, thank you for saving me from myself.

And then there had been all the things he never
could
say. Things like,
I love you. I love you. I love you.

He kicked the bedpost, the one he had still not put back together, and it fell over with a bang.

She was gone.
Get used to it, Merritt.

But that was never going to happen. Slowly, he began to gather his things, getting ready to leave. Rachel would soon be living her dream life, and he owed it to her not to be a pathetic lovesick guy. He could never call her. If he did, she would know something was wrong and she would worry.

He just couldn't do that to her. And yet…something was flat out wrong ending things this way. She'd had so many aborted stays in her life, being dragged here and there with no fanfare at all. And here was another aborted ending.

Just once in her life she should have a joyful farewell, with people saying all the right things.

“She's already gone,” he said. “It's too late.”

Yes. Most people would think that way. But Rachel had never been like most people, and she had taught him a thing or two.

He picked up the telephone.

 

Rachel couldn't figure out what was wrong with Ruby. The woman wasn't herself at all.

“I'll see about getting you a ride, but I think there may be some problem at the airport. I heard something on the news earlier. This could take a while,” Ruby said.

“What kind of problem?”

“Oh, I don't know. Some holdup. Planes stacked in. They're telling people not to show up yet.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I should call and get an update.”

“Oh. No. There are lots of flights today. You need some breakfast. You didn't even eat breakfast.”

She hadn't, but…

“How do you know that?”

“I just…I think I know you a little bit by now, Rachel Everly. I just know it. Are you calling me a liar?”

Rachel didn't have time to say no. The phone rang, and Ruby jumped up and ran into the next room to answer it. “Sorry, got to take this. A businesswoman has to always be available, you know.”

Apparently there was a lot of business today. The phone kept ringing. Ruby kept talking in low, fervent whispers. Was she having problems with her business? Rachel would make sure that Ruby at least was okay before she left today.

The thought made Rachel sad. So many friends
she would never see again, never know what had happened to them. An image of Shane reared up in her consciousness. Rachel closed her eyes.

“Honey, are you sure you're all right?”

She opened her eyes to find Ruby frowning down at her.

Lie. Lie,
she told herself.
What purpose would it serve to worry your friend?
“I'm just fine,” she tried to say, but her voice came out garbled and thick. “I really need to leave,” she finally managed. “I have to call the airport, and if there's a problem there call Shane and let him know.” She couldn't get trapped in an airport with him. Not after she'd managed to make it this far without letting him see that she'd been stupid enough to love a man who had told her from day one that he couldn't love, couldn't promise.

“Sweetie, he knows,” Ruby said, and she enfolded Rachel in her arms.

Panic erupted in Rachel like a volcano. “He knows what?” That she loved him? No, no, no. Don't let him know that.

Ruby looked panicked, as if she'd made a mistake herself. “He knows about the airport, I'm sure. He has people to do those things for him, and I'm—I think—”

The sound of sirens blaring interrupted her. Both women looked up. There was yelling, screaming, something that sounded like a drum and a fiddle and—

Rachel raced Ruby to the window.

“Thank goodness. I thought I was going to have to tie you down,” Ruby said. “Come on, sweetie. Shane knows you need something better than a handshake and a peck on the cheek goodbye.”

Fear gripped Rachel's heart. “I don't understand.”

“You will. Come on.”

A part of Rachel wanted to dig in her heels. She was pretty darn sure that if this had something to do with Shane she should back away. If she saw him again, or had to talk about him to anyone, she was definitely going to make a fool of herself. But the part of her that was desperately, pathetically in love with him didn't have the strength to run away again. She followed Ruby out onto the lawn of the boarding house.

A group of people had gathered there. Len and some men were in the back of a pickup truck with musical instruments.

“Have to have music at a going away party,” he said, smiling and tipping his hat to her as they began to play some soft, lonely tune that pulled at Rachel's heart.

Other people held homemade signs that read, “We'll miss you, Rachel,” and “Good luck in Maine,” and “Don't forget us, Rachel.” Some of the signs had been painted, and the paint was clearly still wet.

“Rachel, we wish we'd had more time, but we brought food. You can't say goodbye without cake,” Angie said, and she and Cynthia and some of the other men and women began to set out folding tables and chairs and bring out food.

There was chatter, and people began to hug her. She hugged them back, thanked them and turned to Ruby. “You did this so fast!” A lump nearly choked her, but she got the words out and hugged her friend, kissing her cheek.

“Not me,” Ruby said. “I told you. I'm thrilled this is happening, but this was all Shane.”

But Shane wasn't here. Rachel knew then that he had wanted her to have a goodbye party, but they had already said their goodbyes. She tried to accept that
and smile at her friends. They had gone to so much trouble for her.

There were even games of several types, and someone gave Rachel a horseshoe. When she turned to throw it in the wrong direction a cry rang out. “I'm just getting my bearings,” she said, a bit sheepishly. “I wasn't going to throw it yet.”

But apparently it wasn't her lack of skill with a horseshoe that was causing the uproar. People were pointing and calling out Shane's name, and Rachel looked up to see him flying down the road in his pickup truck, the dust curling in a low cloud behind him.

Her heart began to thump wildly, erratically. Her throat felt thick with tears. For the first time in her life she thought she might actually faint. Somehow she didn't.

Shane drove close to the crowd, jumped out of the truck and walked right up to her. “Hello again, sunshine. I'm sorry. I know you wanted it to be a short goodbye, but…I just couldn't do it. It had to be right. You need to know how important you are, how much you'll be missed, that this wasn't just an ordinary summer. It was different, better. It was special because of you.”

Oh, no. The first teardrop slipped down her cheek. She just couldn't stop it.

“Don't,” Shane whispered. “I didn't mean to hurt you.” He stepped forward, took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the tear away gently.

“They're tears of joy,” she said, and that was partly true and partly very much a lie. “Thank you. For this.” She gestured to the crowd.
This
was so wonderful. People had obviously stopped their busy lives to make
this happen for her. She was not going to ruin it for them by crying. If only she could stop.

“She's crying.” Jarrod stated the obvious. “I— Rachel, I think those are presents Shane has in his truck.”

That Jarrod was trying so hard to cheer her up only made the tears flow faster. She swiped them away.

The crowd turned to look at the back of the truck, which appeared to be crammed full. There was a log cabin quilt covering whatever was inside. “I'm sorry I didn't have time to do this right,” Shane said. “You should have had everything wrapped in gold ribbons and silver star paper. This isn't all I hoped it would be.”

She looked at him, hoping her heart wasn't in her eyes. “I don't need silver paper. But I don't understand. What are you giving me?”

“A home. Or at least some of the things from the ranch you've grown to treasure.” He handed her the green glass vase that had gotten her eyes glowing so many times, her favorite mug, a small and exquisite oak table. Slowly he revealed the secrets beneath the quilt.

“Not your mother's favorite china? Shane, I love it. You know that. But you can't give that to me.”

“Why not? You're building a dream life. You'll need things, and you should have things you love.”

“But they're yours.”

“And I was going to sell them,” he said. “You treasured them the way I should have.”

Suddenly, something wasn't right. “You said the buyers wanted the house and all its contents. Shane, you can't do that. You can't let me have these things. That would be stealing.”

His fierce, steady gaze suddenly flickered. “No, it wouldn't. I—I decided not to sell the ranch.”

“Just like that?”

“Quicker than that.”

“Why?”

“I'd rather not say.”

She shook her head. “But Shane—”

“Because that house
is
a home now. It wasn't before you came. You loved it up and changed it. You changed
me.
And now…things are different.”

“Will you rent it out?”

He took her hands. “It doesn't matter, does it? What matters is that you're going to have what you want and need. I'm glad of that. But I want you to know, if you ever pass this way again, we'll be here for you. You have family here. You have a permanent place to come to.”

“You're staying?” The words came out on a whisper, on a breath.

“I don't think I can do anything other than stay. You made me see the ranch through your eyes. You taught me to let people in, not shut them out. This place feels like family now. It's where I belong.”

She bit her lip. She nodded. “I'm glad.”

As if no one else but the two of them were there, he cupped her face with his palms. “I want you to be happy. Supremely happy. To have all the things you've ever dreamed of.”

But of course that was no longer possible. She gazed up at him with her heart in her eyes.

“What if my dream changes? What if I've realized that a home isn't one never-changing place?”

“Rachel.” He said her name on a breath. Somewhere someone sighed. “What are you saying?”

She set down the vase she was still holding. “All those other times when I had to leave a place I didn't fight back. I went because there was no one on my side, no one I could trust. But…I trust you. You've opened up my world, inspired me to take risks and make better choices. I'd like to make one of those choices right now.”

“Do it,” he said. “If it's that you don't want my mother's dishes, I can find you something you'll like better.”

She bopped him on the arm. “I love your mother's dishes. I don't want to talk about dishes. I want to talk about you. About me. About how I want to stay here and how I don't want to be another woman who ends up crying on Ruby's bosom. I want you to love me, but if you can't—”

Rachel never got the chance to say the words. Shane tugged her to him and she tumbled into his arms. “I've been in love with you for weeks.” His voice was a fierce, dark whisper.

“And you didn't tell me?”

“You had things to do. In Maine. Without me. I wanted you to have your dream.”

“You
are
my dream. Every night. Every day.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I'm never leaving you. Not now. Not ever.”

“Can you afford to keep the ranch?”

“If I want to, I can afford never to work again in my life. I'm rich, Rachel, but I think I'd like to ranch even though I'm not a cattleman. I'll be a horse rancher.”