Chapter Eleven
Austin would have driven the seven hours north from Salt Lake City to Marietta if Kristen had let him. She wasn’t about to allow that, so when he headed to the driver’s side of the truck the next morning, she bluntly told him that he was the passenger. He didn’t argue about the driving, but he refused to take another pain pill. Kristen wasn’t going to force any kind of a drug on anyone, but she hated seeing him hurting.
Hated seeing anyone hurting, she qualified, doing her best to convince herself that what she felt for Austin was the same as what she’d feel for any injured person; but it wasn’t. How could it be, after what they’d shared over the past several days?
She would never be the same. That was a given. Her time with Austin had continued what losing her job had started—hammering home the lesson that when life got messy, she didn’t need to religiously follow the carved-in-stone path that she’d chosen at the age of eighteen—or to feel bad when she couldn’t follow the path. Side trips were legal—and sometimes they were forced upon you. She’d served drinks in costume and hitched a ride with a bull rider. She’d survived and she’d grown. And she’d had awesome sex.
Glancing sideways, she saw that Austin’s eyes were closed and his features relaxed. Finally. Every time she’d woken the night before, he’d been staring at the ceiling. He’d fallen asleep just before daylight, so she’d slipped out of bed and started dressing, hoping to slip out for coffee without disturbing him, but he woke up before she could leave. And, somehow, she’d resisted the temptation to crawl back into bed with him.
She was going to miss him, but the thing about side trips was that they had to end before they went sour. She and Austin were no longer in their insulated Salt Lake City hotel-room world. Things would be different in Marietta, and, as she saw it, she and Austin were ending on the perfect note at the perfect time.
He slept for most of the trip home, occasionally shifting and screwing his face up in pain, but not waking. These bull riders were a tough lot. Kristen kept her focus on the road, except when she looked at him, drinking her fill while she could. Austin pushed himself upright with a painful grimace when she pulled up in front of the house she owned with her sister. Her haven until she found another job.
“We’re here,” he said, blinking.
“We are.” At the place where they would go their separate ways. She smiled a little. “Part of me doesn’t want to return to reality.”
“It’s always that way after a vacation.” He met her eyes. “I’m not sure what to say now.” She solved the problem by leaning over the console and sliding her hand around the back of his neck, pulling herself close enough to kiss him. Hard. He answered her kiss, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.
When she leaned back, he smiled and her heart did an odd double beat. “I know what to say…thank you for helping me break free for a little while.”
“Any time.” His smile held a mixture of acceptance and regret. “Good luck with the job search.”
The screen door of her house banged and Kristen looked over her shoulder to see Whitney coming down the porch steps.
“Thank you.” There was so much more she could say—all the many things she’d silently philosophized about as she drove, but Kristen wasn’t going to try to put anything into words. They understood each other and that was enough. “Are you sure you can drive to the ranch?”
He snorted dismissively and reached for his door handle. Question answered.
Austin limped to the driver’s side of the truck as Kristen got out. “Hey, stranger,” he said as Whitney reached the gate.
“Austin.” She lifted her eyebrows at his pronounced limp. “How’re you doing?”
“No complaints.”
“Will we see you at FlintWorks before you head out again?”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “More likely I’ll be at Grey’s…no offense.”
“Yeah. I know. You’re a traditionalist.”
“Old habits die hard.” Austin got into the truck, gave the twins one last smile, then put the vehicle in gear and pulled away from the curb.
And that’s that. Kristen let out a breath, doing her best to ignore the heavy, melancholy feeling that settled over her as she turned to her sister, who was regarding her curiously.
“I’m gearing up to face the music. How are the folks?”
“The folks are looking forward to seeing you. Dad got called into the ER to cover for Dr. Gallagher, so you won’t see him until tomorrow morning.” Whitney shot a look toward Austin’s truck as it disappeared around the corner. “So…you two?”
Whitney was never one to be sidetracked for long, but Kristen gave it a stab. “Let me deal with Mom and Dad and then we can have a nice long talk.”
And maybe after dealing with her parents, it would easier to talk about Austin. In a few days, she’d have her bearings, feel more herself. Be back in control. And maybe, if she was lucky, the memories of their time in Salt Lake City would start to fade.
*
Austin drove south on Highway 89 to the Forty-Six Ranch, the place his brother called home. The truck seemed empty without Kristen, but he figured the feeling would pass. They’re shared some intense moments over the past several days, and he could be forgiven for suffering from withdrawals. Never in his wildest thoughts would he have guessed that he and Kris could bring out so much in one another.
She was right—it was hard to ease back into real life. But ease he must. He had a leg to heal and a tour to win.
When he parked next to the barn, Les Connor, his sister-in-law’s grandfather, came out the door and approached the truck. “You’ll be staying in the house,” he announced in a no-nonsense voice.
“Good to know.”
“Can you walk that far?”
Austin narrowed his eyes at the older man. “What makes you think I can’t?”
“Eighteen-hundred pounds of bull treading upon you.”
“Watched the tour?”
“Every televised event.”
That would be all of them.
“Are you on painkillers?” Les asked with a lift of his thick gray eyebrows.
“Nope.”
He jerked his head toward the house. “Then let’s go have a beer while we wait for Ty and Shelby to get back from checking the fence.”
“I could use one.” Austin slid out of the truck, taking care as he stepped down to the ground. He’d put on the stabilizing boot again for good measure, but as long as he was careful, he could support some weight on the leg, which meant he probably wasn’t going to have that X-ray.
When Ty and Shelby got home, he kissed his sister-in-law, man-hugged his brother and then settled in on the porch for the questioning. It was unusually warm for the last day in April, so Ty gave Austin and Les their second beers of the day, and set his own beer and a bottled water on the table between the two unoccupied chairs. He disappeared into the house, then came back a few seconds later. “Shelby will join us in a few minutes. She said we could commence brother talk without her.”
Austin smiled and opened his beer.
“How’s Dad handling the injury?”
“Didn’t answer when he called.” Austin only answered every second or third call. His dad didn’t hold a grudge about it. He just kept trying.
“Probably wise.”
“He’s used to it.” Austin was much better than his brother had been at handling their father’s tendency to try to manage them. He’d learned by watching. “I’ll call him in a couple of days. I did send him a text telling him I was fine and not to worry.”
“Did he try to get you a documentary?” Austin gave his brother a speaking look and Ty laughed. “It’s not that bad, actually.”
“And the chances of two guys in one family landing documentaries…”
Ty laughed again. “I know. But you can’t blame the old man for trying.”
“Or me for dodging him when he gets set on this kind of stuff.”
“I hear ya.”
Austin gave his brother a frown. He was a different guy since hooking up with Shelby. Not only happier…he was mellower. And he now seemed fine about his career being over.
Shelby came out onto the porch then, her hand lingering over her midsection in a way that caught Austin’s attention before she sat down next to Ty, who handed her the water. Once again her hand settled on her belly and Austin sent his brother a look.
Ty gave a solemn nod, then put his fingers to his lips.
Son of a bitch. He was going to be an uncle. No wonder Ty was okay with his career ending. He was about to embark on another. Austin gave a quick nod and focused back on his beer. He should have suspected when Ty got Shelby bottled mineral water without asking her what she wanted to drink.
Austin looked up again and gestured toward Les with his chin and Ty shook his head.
Okay. Just the three of them were in on the secret.
He wanted to tell someone. He wanted to tell Kristen.
Not going to happen. Over. Done. Fun while it lasted.
It was going to take a few days for his inner self to get it through his inner head, but facts were facts. He’d enjoyed his time with Kristen, enjoyed watching the layers peel away as she shed inhibitions—even if her newfound confidence had given him pause every now and again. But their time of sharing secrets was over.
“How long are you staying?” Shelby asked.
“Just a couple days. I’m appearing at a benefit in Pendleton and I thought I might get a house close to the beach for a couple days after that. Enjoy some peace and quiet before the event.” A few days alone might help him get his shit together. Then, when he came back through Marietta, he could look Kristen up. Take her to dinner. By that time, she’d be back on the job search and he’d be a pleasant memory. In other words, they would have both come to their senses.
“Nothing like quiet time to heal.” Shelby had hung around rough stock riders long enough to know exactly what he was doing.
“Exactly.” He grinned at Les. “I know I’ll get put to work if I stay here.”
“That’s a fact,” Les agreed easily.
He wouldn’t have minded working if he wasn’t hurt. He liked work. In that regard, he and Kristen were alike. They were both driven—just in different directions.
“Do you know if you have a fracture?” Shelby asked.
“I prefer not to know.” His leg was damned sore, but he was riding regardless.
“Stay out of hospitals,” Les muttered. His hatred of hospitals was legendary.
“I’ll do my best,” Austin said with a laugh. Although his chosen profession sometimes made that a difficult promise to keep.
“Check the leg out,” Shelby said. Ty nodded in agreement and Austin gave a noncommittal shrug. He’d have it checked out when he thought he needed to. Right now it was only slowing him down on the ground. He could still push weight down through it, as he would when he rode. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but what was new there?
*
“How’d it go?”
Whitney poured Kristen a tall glass of ice tea as soon as she walked in the kitchen door. She waited for her sister to take a drink before asking, “Did they understand?”
‘They’ being their parents. Less than an hour after arriving in Marietta, Kristen had walked the two blocks to her parents’ house to set the record straight about her life. They had been more stunned by her secret keeping than by her layoff. After she explained her logic—how she’d thought she could land something fast, but time had slipped by more quickly than she’d anticipated—her dad had kind of gotten it. Her mom was still working on the secret part. Working hard on it, in fact.
“She was embarrassed to get fired,” her father had said to her mother, as if Kristen wasn’t sitting right there. Embarrassed.
“Laid off, Dad.”
“Whatever.”
They’d talked for almost an hour, and after Kristen laid out the stark reality of her situation—lots of applications in lots of places, but no real responses—her parents had gone into protection mode, offering solutions, possible places of employment. But they weren’t happy and her mother kept studying her, as if half expecting her to say, “Surprise, just kidding. I never lied to you.”
“Well?” Whitney prompted.
“Did you understand?” Kristen asked as she stirred sugar into her tea. She needed a jolt of something. Sugar would have to do, since Whitney didn’t have any booze in the house.
“Of course not…until I cooled down and recalled that you’re competitive as hell and a perfectionist.”
“I am not.”
“Argumentative, too.”
“Funny.” Kristen leaned back in her chair and took in the cheery kitchen with its sunny yellow walls and cherry motifs on the white curtains and dish towels. Her twin loved color and retro style. Kristen had given her carte blanche to do whatever she wanted with the house they’d inherited from their grandmother. The result was a colorful, fun interior that made her feel like smiling. Most of the time. Right now she was dealing with the sting of parental disappointment—disappointment she could have prevented by being upfront.
“What did you think would have happened if you’d told us when you lost your job?”
Kristen shrugged. “I…thought you guys would be disappointed in me.”
“Well, it wasn’t like the earth would stop spinning.”
“It felt like it.” Stupid, but it had. She’d been hard on herself for a long, long time…and that was going to stop. This time she’d temper her self-discipline and drive with some self-care.
Whitney gave her head a shake. “Remember how I played T-ball and you didn’t?”
Kristen frowned at her, wondering what had caused her to dredge up that particular memory. “Because I had trouble hitting the ball—”
“And running.”
Kristen snorted. “So it took me a while to learn to bend my arms. Big deal.”
“Anyway,” Whitney continued, “I was tearing up the ball diamond, and you weren’t, and Mom used to say—”
“That’s okay. Kristy is good at school.”
“Exactly.”
Kristen let out a sigh. She didn’t need a degree in psychology to understand that that simple statement, spoken like a mantra during sporting events, had sown a seed. Kristy would be good at school, and her job, come hell or high water.
Whitney gave her a weary smile. “I know it wasn’t purposeful on the folks’ part—heaven help me, when I have a kid, I’ll probably screw him up every which way from Sunday—but I think celebrating our ‘differences’ might have just scarred us a little.”
“It wasn’t them. It was me. I let old habits run my life instead of taking a long hard look.”
Kristen reached for the ice tea pitcher and poured a refill. “I guess scars make us tough.”
Whitney turned in her chair, then held up her leg, showing the cleat marks in her calf from her days playing softball. “I’m real tough.”
“I’m tougher than I was.”
Whitney put her foot back on the floor. “Yeah? What made you tough? Getting fired?”
“Laid off. Yes, that, and serving drinks in a casino bar. And—”
She was about to say, in the most casual of ways, ‘traveling with Austin,’ when Whitney interrupted her. “You served drinks?”
“For six whole days, and yes, I should have told you. I’m telling you now.”
“How’d that go?”
“I wore a saloon girl costume.”
Whitney’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head. “You wouldn’t wear Halloween costumes!”
“I made up for it. Believe me. It was so low cut I thought my boobs were going to pop out at any second. And I wore fishnet stockings that felt like cheese graters on my feet.”
“You were that desperate?”
“Yep.”
“Did you get decent tips?”
“I sucked at getting tips. And I got fired.”
Whitney laughed, but it wasn’t in any way hurtful. “I’m not surprised. No offense.”
“None taken.” Kristen gave a small snort of laughter. “I was not a good waitress. But I met Austin while I was working and he agreed to give me a ride home.” That sounded suitably casual. Just a matter of meeting a hometown guy and bumming a ride when she needed it. Or so she thought.
“Before or after you got fired.”
“After.”
“So you had to find him?”
“It wasn’t hard. He was at the events center. I walked in and asked him for a ride. He agreed.”
“So what’s going on with the two of you?”
Since she’d lied about losing her job, she had to take care not to push the truth too hard. “We’re friends.” That was true.
“Friends.”
“Yes.”
“If you say so…but that was one helluva lip-lock I witnessed.”
Kristen hadn’t realized that her sister had seen them kissing. After all, the windows were tinted. “Whit…”
“However…” her sister raised her hands as if surrendering “…it isn’t any of my business…unless you want to talk.”
“I don’t.” Not yet anyway. She wanted to keep her thoughts, her feelings, her memories close. At least until she got her rather jumbled emotions sorted out into their neat little boxes again.
“Fine. Even though you promised.”
Kristen frowned at her twin. How could she adequately explain Austin and breaking free and her short sortie into the land of here-and-now with no thought to the future? She couldn’t. “Let’s get back to me disappointing the family.”
Whitney took a sip of her ice tea. “I’m done. However, I’m available if you ever want to talk.”
“Thank you.”
“And the little parlor is free if you want to set it up as your war room while you tackle the job market.”
“I appreciate that.” Her sister knew her well, although, oddly, she didn’t feel that keen about tackling the job market—a side effect of her trip that she hadn’t anticipated.
Whitney lifted her glass and gave a wry smile. “I thought you might.”
*
Austin couldn’t help around the Forty-Six as much as he wanted with a bad leg and sore shoulder, but he did what he was able to do, most of it on horseback. He rode fence and made rudimentary repairs prior to turning out the cattle, spending the better part of four days covering the property looking for winter damage. He told himself that the time alone on horseback was better than time alone on a beach. He loved the ocean, but understood that Ty was trying to get Shelby to take it easy, which was why he volunteered for fencing duty.
He thought about Kristen a lot. Wondered about her. Kept his distance. That was the agreement.
After the fences were finished, he and his brother moved the cattle while Shelby took Les to a medical appointment. When they got back, Austin had a message on his phone from an old rodeo friend turned educator, asking if he could speak at a small Oregon high school on his way to the Portland event.
“What kind of speaking?” Ty asked after Austin hung up.
“Like giving a speech to the high school kids about pursuing non-traditional careers.”
“Non-traditional.”
“That’s what Teller called it.”
Ty pulled two beers out of the fridge, then turned toward Austin, who’d just set his phone on the kitchen table. “You, who barely showed up for high school, are now going to address a high school? As a role model?”
“They don’t know I didn’t show up much.” Austin took the beer his brother handed him and gave a small salute.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No more ridiculous than Teller McKay settling down and becoming a school guidance counselor.”
“Point taken.”
Teller had been the most daring rough stock rider either of them had ever met up with. He rode bulls and broncs—often in the same rodeo—until his body broke down at the ripe old age of twenty-three. Then he’d gone to college and became a guidance counselor. Both Ty and Austin had expressed concern about what he might guide students to do career-wise—forget college…have you considered rodeo?—however, he seemed to have found his niche. In fact, he took his job very seriously and now he wanted Austin to speak on the matter of setting non-traditional goals, to inspire the kids who didn’t fit into neat academic boxes.
“What in the hell should I say to these kids?” The enormity of what he’d just agreed to was starting to reveal itself.
Ty shrugged. “You accepted the gig.”
“Have you ever tried to say no to Teller?”
“It isn’t like he’d hunt you down…” Ty’s voice trailed off and he and Austin exchanged pointed looks. “All right. He might.”
“I’ll probably have to make notecards.”
“Yeah. That sounds good.”
“How’d you remember what to say in your documentary?”
“I just said whatever and they edited. There wasn’t a script.”
“Huh.” Austin tapped the table with his fingers. If he could ride a bull, he could make a speech. Even if it scared the shit out of him.
“So you’re leaving early?”
“A day at most.”
“I’ll tell Les so that he can get your revised chore list ready.”
“Thanks,” Austin said dryly. “I’m sure it’ll help keep me limber.”