Chapter Ten
A hint of purple light glowed in the sky outside her bedroom window when Larissa woke up alone.
Fisting her hand in the pillow beside her, she sat up. Panic speared her heart even before she fully remembered why. She’d wanted to talk to Matt. Tell him she was canceling that audition and staying in Cheyenne.
Bolting out of bed, she wrapped the sheet around her like a cape and rushed into the living room.
Fully dressed, he sat at the kitchen table, pen in hand as he worked on a piece of notepad paper.
“You’re leaving?” Her heart jackhammered in her chest as she imagined what he might be writing in a note.
What if he left her a one-liner for a goodbye the way she’d done to him in college?
“I can’t sleep past dawn if I try.” A half smile lifted one corner of his lips.
It was his “just for show” smile. A one-off meant to put someone else at ease. The kind he would use on the Tammy Lynn Searles of the world.
Larissa’s panic drove deeper. She fisted her hands on the sheet, drawing it tighter.
“Is that—” She pointed to the paper. “For me?”
It felt like a disadvantage that he sat in the kitchen fully dressed while she was naked under a sheet. Her hair was rumpled and disheveled. She probably had lines from the seam of the pillowcase on her face.
An odd flashback mingled with the present as she remembered another day she’d woken up to learn her father had put their house on the market. Selling her whole life right out from under her without telling her.
“Yes.” He set the pen down on the pine table. “But it’s easier to tell you in person.”
Shoving to his feet, he stalked toward her in the dim kitchen lit only by the night-light over the range and a few streaks of dawn outside. Her bare toes curled against the cold hardwood floor as she braced herself for whatever he was going to say.
Why did her gut insist it was a goodbye? Just because he was dressed? Because she only had one more day here for Callie’s wedding?
“Come sit.” Matt slid a hand along her hip, guiding her toward the sofa in the open floor plan.
The simple furnishings all natural woods. Even the mantel was a split log with the flat side serving as the decorative surface for a few white candles bracketed by some antlers used in the decorating like driftwood—providing texture and shape.
And yes, so much easier to think about this charming little log home where she had a lot of history with Matt than to think about whatever he wanted to say right now.
“You think I should leave before the wedding, don’t you?” She blurted out her fear before he could speak, too nervous to wait any longer.
“No.” He frowned, eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Of course not. Callie would be hurt, don’t you think?”
She closed her eyes, knowing he was correct but knowing that wasn’t the response she’d hoped for. Callie wanted her to stay. Matt, on the other hand?
She didn’t know.
“Right. Sorry.” She settled on the sofa beside him, right where they’d fallen asleep in front of a fire one long winter night. Back when she’d been too foolish to hold on to him. “It’s just that you were writing a note and I keep picturing a Dear John letter. Well, more of a Dear Larissa letter, telling me to get lost.”
“Hardly.” He smoothed her rumpled hair off her face. “I wanted to thank you for coming back here. Inspiring me to take a risk.”
“How so?” She tucked her feet beneath her on the sofa, hoping to ward off the chill.
“Remember I told you about Jeb wanting to make all the repairs? Buy the expensive breeding stock?” As he shifted in his seat, his hand fell away from her hair.
She missed his touch already. She nodded, though, remembering that she’d thought he should scale back on expenses if he was worried about it.
“I learned last night that some of Jeb’s push was to support local businesses. Something my dad always did. If we needed something done on the ranch, he hired someone from the area.” The muscle in his jaw flexed as he seemed to think this over before continuing. “While I respect the hell out of that, I can’t necessarily afford to be so principled for a couple of years while I get used to running two places.”
“Good.” She felt glad he wasn’t going to stretch himself too thin trying to maintain things the same way his father had. “Although I’m surprised I had anything to do with that decision.”
The baseboard heating must have kicked to life because she could feel the warmth radiating from the wall behind them. She couldn’t imagine shaking off the chill that had taken hold of her, however.
“All week, I’ve been thinking about the way you ventured off on your own to try Broadway. Risking everything to make your dreams work.” His dark eyes pinned her and there was a sadness in them she hadn’t expected. “Personally, of course, I resented that decision, but it occurred to me last night that I’m going to need to take a few risks of my own if I want the businesses to thrive. I can’t hold to tradition.”
“I inspired you by making a decision that hurt us both?” She’d feared a Dear John note this morning, so by comparison, learning that he merely wanted to thank her for inspiring a business decision should be a relief.
Instead, it gave her perspective. She had been busy dreaming of a future together while he thought about work. Furthermore, he’d admitted his resentment at her defection. Did that mean she’d already used up her chance with him?
“You stayed true to what you valued most.” He drummed his fingers slowly along the back of the couch, the soft vibrations tripping along her skin even though he didn’t touch her. “It’s time for me to put the business before everything else. I’m going to dig in and make it work because I can’t just sell off a ranch my father struggled his whole life to build.”
The timing of that decision—his desire to focus on work when she hoped to finally focus on the people she cared about most—did not escape her. But she’d come back to Cheyenne for a reason and she didn’t think it would be fulfilled until she told Matt what she really wanted.
“I’m glad I could help,” she admitted honestly, hating that she hadn’t found a way to talk to him last night when their hearts seemed closer.
Or so she’d hoped. Had she been seeing what she wanted to see in a relationship that had been, in truth, purely physical? She refused to believe that.
He shifted toward the edge of the sofa like he might leave. “Will you be at the rehearsal dinner tonight?”
“Yes. Callie asked me to go even though I’m not in the wedding.” She wondered how to tell him she wanted to stay. That she wanted to be in Cheyenne and remember the woman she used to be. The woman he had once loved.
“Then I’ll see you over there. But I might need to stay at my mother’s house late tonight with all the out-of-town company. But Saturday we can sit together at the reception.” He started to rise.
She put a hand on his arm.
“Wait.” She didn’t want to think about the wedding that was supposed to be her last day here. “I had something I wanted to tell you, too.”
“Okay. What gives?” He remained seated but didn’t settle back against the couch cushion again. She cursed herself ten times over for not combing her hair and putting on clothes before coming out here to talk to him.
For not preparing herself for possible emotional annihilation if he shot her down.
He stared at her expectantly, the most appealing man she’d ever met. The only man, she now understood, that she’d ever truly loved.
“I’m canceling that audition in Las Vegas.” I’m choosing you. She thought it, but something cool and unreadable in his expression prevented her from speaking the words aloud. “I’m staying in Cheyenne.”
*
A lifetime ago, hearing those words would have been enough.
There’d been a time that Matt was so crazy about Larissa Martine that he would have read between the lines and come away thinking this was an admission of wanting to be together forever. But he was older. Wiser. And more careful with a heart that had her name tattooed on it.
She’d already left a mark.
He might not recover from another.
Even knowing that, his pulse double-timed, hinting at how much he wanted her choice to be about him. Them.
“You’re going to quit dancing?” He wanted to be sure he was clear on the details before he went jumping to any conclusions about what this meant for their future.
He sat close to her on the couch that held too many memories, her body enticing the hell out of him beneath the bed sheet she’d draped haphazardly around herself. She clutched the ends so tightly that it showed off all the delectable curves he’d touched and tasted the night before.
A visual that wasn’t helping him stay focused on her words, that much was damn sure.
“If I continue to dance, I’ll do it locally. I don’t need the rush of the big stage or the validation that comes with working in a high-level production. I want to live and work in the place that has always felt like home to me.” She paused, her green eyes finding his. “I miss it here.”
He noticed she emphasized the place. Not the people.
A warning?
He hoped not, because his imagination was already sprinting off into a future that included her with him at Split Fork.
“Is this because of your injury?” He needed to get the facts before he allowed himself to pull her into his arms and celebrate.
“No.” Her sexy, tousled hair slid over her shoulder as she shook her head. Then she stopped, tilting her head to the side as her gaze shifted toward the window where the sunrise painted the sky pink. “Well, maybe a little. Being sidelined last year gave me a lot of time to think about what I was doing and why. I think I needed to come back here to help me realize that I was no longer dancing for me. I was dancing because of that promise I made to my mother.”
He understood then. The hope that had been picking up steam inside him came to a sudden, grinding halt as the full truth of what she was saying hit him.
She wasn’t moving back to Cheyenne for him. She was moving home because she’d finished one dream and wanted to begin another. That didn’t necessarily have anything to do with him. And after the way she’d walked away from him last time, he was unwilling to accept half measures from a woman who meant everything to him.
“You wanted to make peace with the past.” He remembered her reason for returning home. She’d told him as much that day in his father’s office when she’d revealed her pregnancy and miscarriage. “And it sounds like you have.” He released a pent-up breath, having a tough time keeping a rein on what he was feeling. “I’m happy for you, Larissa.”
He shot to his feet, suddenly needing fresh air. Blue sky. And the Wyoming wind to whip through him and cool the stinging gash this conversation made in his chest.
“You’re leaving?” She stood more cautiously, still clinging to the snowy white bed linen.
“I still keep rancher’s hours.” He forced a smile that he didn’t come close to feeling, wondering how he’d get through the wedding with Larissa as his date.
How he’d get through the weeks and months ahead with Larissa living nearby but not part of his life.
“I know, but—” She bit her lip. Listed toward him. “I thought we’d talk about the future. About what this could mean for you and me.”
Standing close to her in the middle of the living room, morning sunlight streaming over her, he could see the slight red whisker burn on her neck from where he’d kissed the delicate skin there. He’d been too rough and careless. But Larissa had been far tougher on him. His injuries might not show, but they were damn near killing him right now.
“I’m not sure there can be a you and me.” Not on these terms. “Not like this.”
Her brow furrowed. Her hand splayed tentatively on his chest and she had to be able to feel the way his heart went crazy just knowing she was so close.
“I don’t understand. What about what we’ve shared?” She fidgeted with his shirt, plucking lightly at the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. “What about last night?”
“I don’t want our relationship to be a footnote in your quest for happiness, Rissa. You said it yourself, you’re moving back here to start over because you’re done dancing.” He took a deep breath. Even that hurt. “We both know you’re not staying in Cheyenne for me.”
She stepped back fast, taking her enticing touch with her. Taking his heart. Her lips worked silently for a moment, as if searching for the right words. Then, her jaw snapped shut and she contemplated him for a long moment.
“What if I was?” she asked quietly.
Taunting him with visions of how else this conversation might have gone. Yet dwelling on “what ifs” weren’t going to do either of them a damn bit of good.
He retrieved his Stetson off a nearby chair and jammed it on his head.
“But you aren’t. Or you would have said so.” He headed for the door before he lost his resolve and settled for whatever scraps of her affection she wanted to give him.
He knew that would never be enough in the long run.
He was almost out the door when she called after him, her voice breaking.
“That’s not fair.” She thrust herself between him and the door. “I also came here because I wanted to set things right with you. I needed to see you.”
Damn but he wanted to believe her.
“And you would have left right afterward if not for Hattie and my sister.” He gripped the polished bronze door handle, not letting go even though he’d rather be touching Larissa. Holding her.
“You don’t know that. I came here because I had to. Ultimately, I stayed because I wanted to. I was drawn back here for a reason, Matt.” Color rose in her cheeks. Her eyes glistened with emotion.
He let go of the door handle, unable to resist touching her soft cheek. “Maybe you needed to come home to remember who you really are. And you did. But that doesn’t mean you’ll ever care about me the way I care about you.”
The reminder of how much that difference hurt last time gave him the resolve he needed. He let his fingers fall away from her cheek and walked out.