Long Hard Ride (30 page)

Walking away from him was the hardest thing she’d ever done, even when she knew it was for the best. For now.

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Lorelei James

Chapter Twenty-One

One week later…

Trevor sipped his fourth beer and watched Edgard loading the last of his tack in his luggage. “You sure you don’t wanna take that saddle? It’s awful damn nice. Nicer than mine.”

“No. You can have it. Or you can sell it. I don’t care either way.”

Pause. “Maybe I’ll keep it around for when you come back.”

Edgard sighed, but he didn’t look up from zipping his soft-sided suitcase. “I already told you, Trev. I’m not coming back.”

Trevor ignored the stab of pain near his heart. He drained the lukewarm brew and reached for another.

Thud
. Edgard’s last bag hit the floor.

The silence between them was deafening.

Edgard said, “When are you going to Cody?”

“Tomorrow. Early.”

“Who’re you going with?”

“Cash and Brian. Colby’s cousin Dag.”

“Good luck. Dag’s a great heeler.”

“Thanks.” He fiddled with the metal tab on the beer can. “You sure you don’t want me to take you to the train station?”

Edgard laughed softly. “That wouldn’t be wise,
amigo
.”

“It ain’t like I’m gonna make a big scene, Ed,” Trevor scoffed.

“I know. Maybe I would.” Edgard briefly shut his eyes. “Shit. I’m not gonna do this. I can’t do this anymore.”

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Edgard ran his hand through his hair. A gesture of frustration Trevor had come to recognize in the last two years he and Edgard had been together. Off and on. In secret. He knew it wasn’t fair to either of them.

Trevor wanted to get up, walk over and smooth Edgard’s dark hair back in place. He ached to soothe him and tell him everything would be all right. But mostly he wanted to wrap his arms around Edgard and beg him not to leave.

But Trevor did none of that. He just steadily drank his beer, waiting for the numbness to settle in and ease his sorrow.

Edgard opened the door and tossed out his luggage. Then he closed the door again and braced his shoulders against the wall.

Automatically Trevor stiffened.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to make you uncomfortable by telling you how I feel. You already know. I just wish things could be different.”

Trevor swallowed a drink and the lump in his throat. “Me too.”

“Take care of yourself,
meu amor
.”

“You too.”

A truck horn honked outside.

Without another word Edgard turned and walked out of his life.

Trevor stayed seated until he heard Gemma’s rig drive away. Then he slowly stood, shuffled to the door and locked it.

He shoved the rest of the case of beer up in the sleeping compartment and crawled across the mattress. He cracked open a fresh can, lay flat on his back and let the tears come.

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Chapter Twenty-Two

Eight weeks later…

Colby McKay sat on the front porch of his parents’ house with his leg propped on a folding chair and scowled at the darkening sky. Fucking clouds. If it was gonna be cloudy, at least the damn things should be rain clouds. They needed the moisture in a bad way.

A dry autumn breeze drifted through the eaves, rattling the wind chimes. He’d been home for two months. A doctor ordered bed rest after his leg had been busted up like a cheap 2X4, and his lung had seeped air like a leaky balloon.

As glad as he was not to be pissing in a colostomy bag or wheeling himself around in a chair for the rest of his life, it stung his pride that his family was forced to take care of him at the family homestead for the time being. For six long goddamn months.

Oh, they didn’t seem to mind. His mom was happy to have him home in any capacity, happier yet he was done with life on the road. He was still shuffling around on crutches with a brace on his leg like a gimped-up old man, but at least he wasn’t flat on his back.

Still, there was something mortifying about his mom or his sister doing his physical therapy exercises with him every damn day. That little sadist Keely liked inflicting pain on him. He’d warned her paybacks were a bitch and he’d invited Amy Jo over to keep him company on occasion.

But he suspected the only reason Amy Jo showed up was on the hope she’d run into his brother Cord.

Colby felt useless. He couldn’t stay by himself in his beloved log cabin on the other side of the canyon. His mother claimed she didn’t trust him 238

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not to do too much, too soon. Helping Colton with chores was out, too.

His dad had told him there’d be plenty of chores waiting for him when he’d healed up properly. Next spring. Even Cord gave him pitying looks, and Cord’s life was even more fucked up than his.

But mostly Colby sat around wondering what the hell he was gonna do now that his rodeo career was history. Sure, he’d known at the end of this season he’d have to scale back and compete locally only on weekends. So it’d come as a complete shock when the surgeons warned him if he started riding bulls or broncs again, he could end up in a wheelchair permanently.

Not a chance he was willing to take.

For the millionth time Colby’s thoughts turned to Channing. He knew that wasn’t why she’d bailed—because he was no longer a rodeo cowboy, now that injury had forced him into being just an ordinary Wyoming rancher. He doubted she’d skipped back to her old life after she’d had her sexual adventure of traveling the rodeo circuit with a trio of cowboys.

Or that she’d forgotten about him as she was on the Eastern seaboard teaching readin’, writin’ and ’rithmetic.

Probably they called it something else at that fancy-pants school where she was hiding away.

No doubt Channing was hiding. From him. From herself. From what she’d said to him in the hospital when she didn’t know he could hear her. Colby didn’t have any idea what to do about fixing things. Hell, he
couldn’t
do anything about it until he was a whole man again.

Lord. He missed her. After one glorious week Channing meant everything to him. During the last night he’d spent making love to her, showing her how he felt, he knew she’d never just waltz away.

I’ll be waiting
.

But where? It seemed as if Channing Kinkaid had dropped off the face of the earth.

A couple of weeks back after he’d gotten through the worst of the pain, he’d taken a chance and called her cell phone only to discover it’d www.samhainpublishing.com 239

Lorelei James

been disconnected. That left him adrift because he didn’t know her parents’ names. He didn’t know where she lived.

But he did know he loved her.

The wind blew the scent of sage and dirt. For a second, he thought he caught a whiff of Channing’s perfume. Wishful thinking. There weren’t a lot of wildflowers in Wyoming in the autumn.

He sighed. Maybe he’d nap. At least when he was asleep he didn’t think about this shit. And he could dream about her wrapped up in his arms in the middle of his king-sized bed back at his place. Just the two of them alone for a change. No traveling partners. No interruptions.

The front door opened and his mother hustled out with his nephew Ky cocked on her hip. She pitched Colby the portable phone. “We’re out of milk and diapers. I’m running to the store. Do you need anything while I’m in town?”

Colby shook his head. He’d drifted into that dreamy state right before sleep when the phone rang. He snapped, “Hello?”

“Colby McKay, you sound like a bear with a sore paw. How you doing?”

He relaxed. “Getting better every day, Gemma. And you?”

“I can’t complain. Hey, is your dad around?”

“No. He and Cord and Colton are sortin’ cows with the cattle broker.

Why? What’d you need?”

“Hang on.” A rustling sound crackled on the line as she moved the receiver on her end. “No, Channing, those don’t go there. Put ‘em in the sun porch.”

Colby froze. Then his heart raced. “Gemma? What the devil is goin’

on?”

“Sorry ‘bout that. What did you say?”

“Did you say Channing is there? At your ranch?”

“Well—”

“
My
Channing is at your ranch?”

“Yeah.”

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“Since when?”

“Awhile.”

Colby practically growled. “How long has she been there?”

“She’s been here almost six weeks. Where’ve
you
been?”

“Right here! Why in the hell didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t
you
tell me, Gemma?”

“Not my place.”

“Goddammit. I don’t know whether to take a horsewhip after you or her.”

“I don’t like the direction this conversation has taken, Colby McKay.”

He breathed deep, trying to calm himself. “Sorry. It’s just…I’ve spent the last month tryin’ to find out where she is!”

“So now you know. My question is: What are you gonna do about it?”

Gemma hung up.

A shaft of sunshine spilled across the porch railing. Colby glanced at the sky. The gray clouds had cleared out, revealing a radiant blue horizon.

A sign that he’d finally get a chance to clear up some of the issues that’d been clouding his mind?

He grabbed his crutches and his keys and he was gone.

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Chapter Twenty-Three

Meanwhile, back at Gemma Jansen’s ranch…

“You always make me do the shitty jobs,” Channing half-complained.

“That’s part of learning the ropes and working on the ranch.

Somebody has to do them.”

“Yeah? I wish you would’ve told me this before I packed up and moved here.”

Gemma leaned on the pitchfork, her face serious. “Do you have some regrets about shucking life in the city for shucking corn?”

Even covered in horse shit and hay dust Channing couldn’t hold back a big grin. “Not a single one.”

“Good.” She pointed to a mound of golden hay. “Spread that around.

I’ve got to make a call. I’ll be right back.”

While Channing shoveled hay, she considered the idea that she might have some regrets.

After she’d left Colby in the hospital, she’d flown home. It’d taken less than a week for her to realize she couldn’t fathom spending her life living up to someone else’s expectations. Contrary to her parents’ accusations,
she
hadn’t changed. She was finally ready to accept that who she was on the inside was who she wanted to be on the outside. All the time. Not just for a week during rodeo season.

So Channing had quit her job before she’d even started it. She’d sold the few things she’d owned—including her BMW—bought an old Dodge truck, packed up and had driven across the country to the wilds of Wyoming.

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It’d been the best decision she’d ever made, besides hooking up with a sweet rodeo cowboy who made her laugh, made her mad and made her scream. The last time she’d seen him, lying in that hospital bed, he’d made her cry.

So far her only regret was that she hadn’t found the guts to personally visit that cowboy. The couple of times she’d called his folks’

place, his father had said Colby was resting. She figured she’d give him another week of recovery time before she took a road trip and tried her hand at wooing him face to face, Western style.

Gemma kicked a stall door shut on her way back into the barn.

“Who’d you call that put you in such a bad mood? Cash?”

“Why in the world would I call Cash Big Crow when I haven’t seen or heard from him in over two months?” Gemma’s face turned bright red whenever Cash’s name was mentioned.

Channing shrugged. Not her business. They’d either figure it out, or they wouldn’t. It made her sad to think that Trevor was too much of a chicken to buck his family’s expectations and had let Edgard go back to Brazil alone. “Hey, you want to shoot some pool tonight at the Lantern?”

“Nah. We’ve got too much to do. Let’s stick around here.”

“Great.” Channing quit leaning on her pitchfork and got back to work.

An hour and a half later, Gemma disappeared again while Channing finished in the barn. She heard a vehicle zooming up the driveway and gravel crunching as it came to an abrupt halt. A metal door slammed.

“Channing Kinkaid, get your butt out here right now.”

Colby? Was here? She tossed her leather work gloves on the wooden tool bench.

“That was your first warnin’, shug,” he yelled.

Channing sucked in a deep breath and stepped into the sunshine.

She shaded her eyes with her hand and caught a glimpse of Colby hunched over a pair of crutches beside a dirty black pickup.

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Her heart absolutely soared with joy. He was a little battered, a little thinner, but he was there.

And mad as the dickens.

“What in the hell is wrong with you? You’re livin’ in Wyoming now?

Less than two goddamn hours away from me and you can’t be bothered to let me know?”

Channing swallowed the lump in her throat. “I did let you know. I called out to your parents’ place a couple of times and talked to your dad.” She froze about twenty feet from him when the truth hit her. “He didn’t tell you I called, did he?”

A muscle in Colby’s jaw flexed. “No. He didn’t. I’ll deal with him later.

Right now I wanna paddle your behind for thinking I’d ever—”

She held up her hand. “Stop right there. I thought when we saw each other again you’d at least sweet-talk me a little, cowboy. Seeings you’re so good with that silver tongue. But instead—”

“Instead I’m standin’ here like a dumbass because I can’t run to you and scoop you up in my arms where you belong.”

She paused and stared at him, her heart in her eyes. “How about if I run to you?” she said softly.

“Oh God, darlin’, please. I’m dyin’ over here.”