Courting Trouble (32 page)

“Coffee?” Savannah asked and held up the pot.

His insides already rolled with the thick oily feeling of upset and fatigue. He shook his head no and forced a polite smile to his face.

“I gotta check the kiln. Tulsa ought to be down in a minute. We gotta head to the airport in ten.” Savannah opened the glass door and shivered with the cold. The windows rattled in their panes when she pulled shut the door.

Cade heard the sound of more footsteps on the stairs. Tulsa walked into the kitchen. Her curls were pulled away from her face and she wore a black suit jacket and pants—sharp and crisp. A smile pulled her face into happiness when she saw him, but then she paused. Cade saw the hardness in his face—his stance—reflected in Tulsa’s eyes. He tried to soften his jaw but there was nothing there, nothing to give. His throat felt too thick, his mind too buzzed, his limbs too heavy.

No, this wasn’t a good time to have this conversation, but the need propelled him forward, his need to finally be clear on all that had happened, everything that had changed and impacted his life, each bit without him ever knowing.

“Awful early to pay a visit,” Tulsa said. Her voice was tentative. She pulled her right brow upward. She carried her coffee cup to the counter and refilled her cup from the pot before she replaced it, turned, and leaned against the counter. “How’s your dad?” she asked, her voice softer.

Cade shook his head, looked down at the floor. How was his dad? The same. Not good. A liar.

“He’s forgotten how to lie,” Cade finally said.

With his words, the color drained from Tulsa’s face. Her breath shortened and she licked her bottom lip. He said nothing. She placed her coffee cup on the counter and walked toward him. Her lips were pursed and her head tilted. Was that shame in her eyes? Embarrassment? Sadness? Guilt? His chest tightened. The scent of her—lavender and earthy and good and all that he’d loved—filled him. He ground his teeth together.

“I…” Tulsa met his gaze and then glanced at the wood floor. “I…” She pulled in a deep breath and glanced up through those long lashes. “I should have told you.”

“Should doesn’t go very far in life.”

“We were eighteen and my mother had just died and…” Tulsa closed her eyes, deep in thought, then opened them again. “What Hudd said to me. How he said it, made so much sense. It all seemed so reasonable, so rational. It felt like he was right—that my staying would ruin your life and mine.”

“And all those years between then and now?”

Tulsa looked up toward the ceiling and crossed her arms over her chest.

“We had lives. You moved to New York, got married. I lived in LA.” Her blue eyes met his gaze. “And this thing with Hudd and my mom, it never went away.” Her voice caught. “I… I… just didn’t see the point.”

His throat choked. His ribs pulled tight. His shoulder tightened and a pain sliced up the back of his neck.

“I… I know I always loved you, but I didn’t see a way, and when I finally wanted to tell you, I didn’t think you’d believe me—”

“Believe you?” His words burst out hard and fast, like bullets. “Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

She took one step back and her face tightened, the vulnerability now locked away from him. Tulsa squinted and anger crawled up onto her face. “When it came to Hudd, you never believed me before, why would I think you’d believe me after I left?”

The air rushed from Cade’s lungs. How could he respond? With anger? With pain? With unkind words about running away and being a coward? He locked his jaw.

“What do you want me to say?” Tulsa shot out. “That I’m sorry for leaving? I’m not. I’ve created a life—a life for me and for my family. A life I never would have had if I’d stayed here.”

“We weren’t staying here.” Cade’s eyes slid to the left as he stared at Tulsa. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“Right. Denver. College. Law school. I remember the plan.” Tulsa nodded. “I also remember your dad telling me that if I stayed, none of that plan would happen. That he’d make sure of it. No school. No money. No help. Just you and me, alone. Do you think I wanted that for you? To lose everything because of me? How long would that have lasted? You? Cut off from all things Montgomery?”

“Guess we’ll never know,” Cade said.

He believed the threats that Tulsa told him Hudd had made. And really, to be fair, he might not have believed her then if she’d come to him. He might have sided with his father—his family—and he would have been wrong. But all that truth that now tore at his brain didn’t fill his mouth, didn’t form his words—all he wanted to do was rage, rage at a future that never was, because Tulsa had believed his father, because she didn’t trust him, perhaps never had.

Tulsa pushed her lips together. She fought a slickness in her eyes. “Guess not,” she said.

Cade grabbed his leather jacket that he’d slung over the back of a kitchen chair. He had nothing more to say. She didn’t apologize. He wouldn’t ask her to stay, tell her that this time all the blocks and problems and barricades that stood between them were easy to overcome, because they weren’t.

She hadn’t trusted him then and he didn’t trust her now.

There was so much emotion between them but nothing left to give—no road left to try. The truth was out and they still couldn’t build a bridge past their hurt and lies.

“Have a safe trip,” Cade said as the leather molded around his shoulders. No warmth came with it. “I’m certain you’re excited to get home to LA.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Blue-sky day after blue-sky day after blue-sky day—somehow even the perfect blue of the Los Angeles sky had lost its vibrancy. Week after week Tulsa didn’t bother to put the top down on her car. Nor did she turn on her radio. Nor did she hum a tune. Day after day, week after week, she simply transported herself to her office where she now sat, mindlessly glancing at interrogatories. Not really caring—knowing she should care more. This morning, she waited the last few minutes until the morning staff meeting was to begin.

She sighed and let her chin sink to her chest. This was no way to live. Depressed, beaten—that wasn’t her style. She was a fighter, a warrior, a go-getter who won. She pulled a deep breath into her lungs and looked out at the blue water of the Pacific in the distance. Nope—even the ocean didn’t excite her.

“Tulsa?”

Tulsa caught Emma’s and Jo’s reflections in the window and she swiveled her chair toward her partners as they entered her office. Tulsa forced her face to soften and tried to erase all the sadness from her eyes. Emma folded herself onto Tulsa’s office couch and Jo leaned against the credenza.

“Did I miss a memo?” Tulsa asked and crinkled her eyebrows.

They usually met in the conference room for the morning meeting. A look, thick with concern, flashed between Jo and Emma.

Emma tucked a white-blond curl behind her ear and a soft smile lit upon her face. “We thought…” Her words drifted to an unsettled silence as she again looked across the office toward Jo.

“We thought that we should talk.” Jo finished Emma’s sentence. Her brown eyes met Tulsa’s.

“Okay.” Tulsa leaned back in her desk chair and clasped her hands. A tingle crawled up her neck. Somehow she suddenly felt as though she were in trouble—about to be chastised or scolded.

“We wondered…” Emma looked from Tulsa to Jo, an uncertainty in her eyes. “Well, we wondered if you were okay?”

Tulsa crinkled her brows and forced her lips into a half smile. “Of course I’m okay. Ash is with Savannah. I’m home. The practice is busy. You’re both here.” Tulsa twisted her chair toward the wall of windows and held out her hand toward the perfect blue sky. “The weather is perfect.” But even as she said it, even as she tried to fake it for her partners—for her friends—she realized they weren’t buying what she was selling. Not even
she
was buying what she was selling. Her hand dropped to her lap and again her chin sank to her chest. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips. She had the world. All that she wanted—or thought that she wanted: a career, a full bank account, success, a happy niece and sister, and yet… And yet.

She spun her chair toward Emma and Jo. She bit her bottom lip. A kind of panic gripped her chest.

“I’m in love with Cade and I can’t get around it.”

Emma nodded and tilted her head. “We know.”

Of course they knew. And they’d waited—like wonderful, loving, patient friends—they’d waited for Tulsa to try to work out her feelings for herself. They’d waited because they knew she was private and would want to at least try to sort out her personal challenges alone. They’d waited because they loved her and knew her and understood.

Tulsa gripped her forehead with both hands. “I feel so—”

“Vulnerable?” Emma asked.

“Ridiculous?” Jo added.

Tulsa shook her head with each word. “Bewildered,” she finally whispered out. “I just… Life is good, but I just can’t shake this… this achy feeling. I think about him. I pick up the phone to call him. I type up an email to send him. But then…” She looked from Jo to Emma.

“But then you don’t,” Emma said.

“But then I don’t.” Tulsa repeated her words, quiet and tentative. She glanced out the window. “I don’t need a man. I’ve never needed a man. I’m just so confused about all these feelings—I can’t get him out of my head.”

“Love can suck that way.” Jo pulled her arms tighter across her chest.

“You know,” Emma said, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers, “you’ve known why you left Powder Springs for nearly twenty years, but Cade—well he just found out. Plus with you being back—”

“And his father lying about not only Connie, but also you,” Jo added.

“That is a lot for a man to process,” Emma finally said. “Maybe you should reach out to him. Maybe it’s time to—”

Tulsa’s curls tossed about her cheeks as she shook her head. “No.”

She pulled a deep breath and placed both her hands palm down on her desk. “He doesn’t want to hear from me. I know he doesn’t.” She tilted her head back and looked up toward the ceiling. “The look on his face when he left, after he asked me about Hudd?” Tulsa sighed and let her gaze trickle from Jo to Emma. “No. I can almost guarantee you that Cade Montgomery doesn’t ever want to see me again.”

“I doubt that,” Emma said. Her eyes weren’t nearly as soft as usual. Her lips drew into a tight line. “We’ve known you for a long time,” Emma started.

“More than a decade,” Jo added.

“And we both know how stubborn you can be,” Emma continued.

Heat pricked Tulsa’s belly with Emma’s words.

“As your business partners, as your friends—we think you need to reach out to Cade. Have a conversation. We are…” Emma’s words drifted off.

“We’re worried about you.” Jo finished Emma’s sentence.

Tulsa scrunched her lips and rolled her eyes with a look that indicated she thought Emma and Jo had lost their minds. “Worried? Why are you worried? I haven’t missed a day of work. I’m here. I take care of my cases and my clients—”

“You don’t eat,” Emma said.

“You don’t sleep,” Jo said.

“I eat and I sleep,” Tulsa fired back.

“You’ve lost at least fifteen pounds.” Emma pointed at Tulsa.

“And I got texts from you last night about the Dobson case at two am, three am, and four thirty am,” Jo offered.

Tulsa examined her hands, which were lying on her lap.

“And to be honest,” Emma said. She pursed her lips together as if willing herself to go on, “Well, to be honest, you look awful.”

Tulsa whipped her head upward and squinted at Emma. “That’s a little low, Em.” Tulsa turned toward her wall of windows and for the first time in weeks seemed to actually see her reflection. Her skin was sallow and there were giant purple rings under her eyes. Her business suit hung around her body like a sack and her curls looked wilder than usual. She closed her eyes.

“We both think you need to speak to Cade.” Emma’s eyes slipped over Tulsa and she felt the tickle of her gaze—a worried gaze that examined a friend. “Your past is linked to him. Everything with your mom and the custody case with Ash. Your future may not be set with Cade, but I’m not sure you can find your way to whatever your future is without a real conversation about what happened.”

They were right.

She’d been fighting this fight and definitely losing, but she would get through this emotional turmoil. She’d won more difficult battles than this.

“We’re not insinuating that this will be solved by you and Cade running blissfully into the sunset,” Emma said.

“What we are saying,” Jo continued, “as your friends, is that you need closure. You need at least a full conversation with this man now that both of you know all the facts.”

Tulsa fought the urge to scream at Emma and run by Jo. To escape her office, to escape her partners, to escape the emotions that churned through her. But anger, she knew, was a surface emotion of pain. The idea of sitting with Cade and actually having a conversation about these facts—her whole body recoiled, which was exactly how Tulsa knew her partners were right. She needed closure even more than a happy ending. She needed an adult discussion about Connie and Hudd and her running away from Powder Springs. Cade might never forgive her, but maybe after the conversation she could begin to forgive herself.

“Okay,” Tulsa said and sighed in surrender. “You’re both right, but I’ll get through this. I know I will. It is just going to take some time.”

Emma nodded. “We want you to know that we’re here for you.”

“You can talk to us,” Jo said.

Tulsa looked out the windows to where the bright blue sky bled into the bright blue water. “I don’t need a man,” Tulsa said, more to herself than to her friends. “I’m not my mother.”

“No,” Emma said. “From what you’ve told us, you’re definitely not Connie.”

“And of course you don’t
need
a man. None of us need one, though some of us may want one.” Jo looked at Emma. “Why I’m not sure. I have brothers and men seem like more work than they’re worth to me.”

A tiny smile formed on Tulsa’s face.

Emma’s gaze, sharp and focused, landed on Tulsa. “You may not need one, Tulsa, but it seems like you may have found one that you love.”