Chapter Fourteen #2
Except that what they’d shared wasn’t lovemaking but sex—a purely physical coupling with no emotional attachment required or desired. And Beth wasn’t very good at keeping her emotions detached. Her feelings for Wilder were already stronger and deeper than she was willing to acknowledge.
She eased her lips from his, reluctant but determined. “Didn’t we agree that what happened before was a mistake?”
“We agreed that you said it was a mistake,” he said. “But I think you’re trying to convince yourself of that so it won’t happen again.”
“Of course, it won’t happen again.”
“Because you’re not attracted to me?” he challenged.
Before she could respond to that, he lifted a hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, skimming his fingertip over the shell of her ear, making her tremble.
He smiled, letting her know that her physical reaction had not gone unnoticed, so that if she tried to claim she wasn’t attracted to him, he’d know she was lying.
“Because it wouldn’t be smart,” she said instead.
“Attraction is rarely based on logic,” he said. “And I’m very definitely attracted to you, Beth.”
She swallowed. “You are?”
“After the night we spent together, how can you even ask that question?”
“We had sex—once,” she reminded him. “We didn’t spend the night together.”
“And that’s my fault,” he acknowledged. “I snuck out of your bed because I wanted to stay. Because I wanted more.”
“You wanted more?” she asked, doubt and hope warring inside her.
“But I don’t know that I’m capable of anything more,” he confided. “And you’re the kind of woman who deserves a lot more. You deserve to be loved—and I don’t do love. I don’t know that I can.”
She sighed. “So where does that leave us?”
“I don’t know. But I’d like to try to figure it out.”
“This really is complicated, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “And likely to get even more complicated when Leighton shows up.”
“That’s why I think I should go,” she told him.
“Even if I want you to stay?” And then, before she could reply to that, he played his trump card: “Even if Cody wants you to stay?”
She huffed out a breath. “You fight dirty.”
“I fight to win,” he said, unapologetic.
“Leighton will fight back,” she warned.
“Are you worried that you’ll get caught in the crossfire?”
She shook her head. “I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he said sincerely. “You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever known.”
She was taken aback by his matter-of-fact tone. “You really think so?”
“I do,” he confirmed. “You are fierce and formidable.”
“I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else.”
He shook his head. “You are an amazing woman, Beth Ames.”
And the way he said it, the sincerity in his voice, almost made her believe it.
But if he truly believed it, why couldn’t he love her? Was he truly incapable of falling in love, as he believed? Or was she not worthy of his love? And why was she even thinking about love after one night with a man she’d known for barely more than a week?
“You’re just trying to sweet-talk me into staying so you won’t have to do the middle-of-the-night feedings,” she said, in an attempt to ease the seriousness of the moment.
“If you stay, I’ll happily do the middle-of-the-night feedings,” he promised.
“Okay,” she finally relented. “I’ll stay.”
Beth was folding a load of laundry as she listened to Wilder read to Cody. Hearing the simple story of Goodnight Moon in the cowboy’s deep voice, watching him point out the list of items in the great green room, warmed something deep inside her.
The ring of her cell came between “goodnight kittens” and “goodnight mittens,” and though she didn’t recognize the number, she connected the call immediately so the ringing wouldn’t disturb the story.
“Hello?”
“Is this Lisbeth Ames?”
It wasn’t until she heard the male voice and registered a quick stab of disappointment that she realized she’d been hoping it might be her sister calling.
“Yes,” she acknowledged, bracing herself for a sales pitch.
“Are you related to Leighton Ames?” the caller asked, surprising her again.
“Who is this?” she demanded.
“This is Sheriff Burke from Clearwater County,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”
“Clearwater County?” she echoed, preferring to latch onto that detail rather than contemplate the possibility of “bad news.” “I’m sorry—I don’t even know where that is.”
“It’s in Idaho, ma’am,” he said patiently, as if giving her a moment to catch up. “I’m calling because there’s been an accident and—”
“What kind of accident?” she interjected, suddenly chilled to the bone recalling that it had been the sheriff who showed up at the door when her parents were killed. “Has something happened to my sister?”
“Her car spun out on Harbinger Road and slid down an embankment.”
“Ohmygod. Was she hurt? Is she at the hospital?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Ames, but your sister suffered traumatic injuries in the crash and—” He paused to clear his throat. “She didn’t make it.”
“I don’t understand, Sheriff. What do you mean?” she asked, her brain refusing to acknowledge and accept the meaning of his words.
If he was trying to tell her that her sister hadn’t yet made it back to the Ambling A, she knew that already, because she was here and Leighton clearly wasn’t.
“She emailed to tell me that she was on her way to Rust Creek Falls, to pick up Cody,” Beth said, eager for him to understand how important it was that Leighton keep her promise. “He’s only four and a half months old and he misses her like crazy.”
“I’m sorry,” the sheriff said again, sounding weary.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Beth snapped at him. “Tell me when she’s going to be here.”
“Beth.” She started at the sound of Wilder’s voice, gentle but firm. “Give me the phone.”
She shook her head, her fingers instinctively tightening on the device, desperately maintaining her grasp on this tenuous connection to the man who was talking to her about Leighton, wanting him to explain why her sister was late.
“Cody’s ready for his nap,” Wilder said. “Why don’t you put him down while I talk to the sheriff?”
It sounded like a reasonable request. It made sense to her. Unlike the gibberish spouted by the sheriff.
And then Wilder cleverly shifted the sleepy baby into her arms, forcing her to relinquish her grip on the phone.
She started out of the room while he took over the call, introducing himself as a family friend.
As Beth carried her nephew up the stairs, the sheriff’s words continued to echo in her head, but they still didn’t make any sense to her.
Accident...injuries...sorry.
She was supposed to put Cody in his crib, so that he could sleep, but for some reason, she couldn’t let him go. Instead, she lowered herself into the rocking chair and snuggled him close.
The baby rubbed his face against her shoulder—a telltale indicator that he was fighting sleep. She touched her lips to the top of his head as she rocked him gently, and his eyes drifted shut.
A few minutes later, she heard the slow, steady rhythm of Wilder’s footsteps on the stairs. Then he appeared in the doorway, where he remained for a long moment as if uncertain what to say or do, before crossing the room and gently removing the sleeping baby from her arms.
When Cody was settled in his crib, Wilder returned to crouch by the rocking chair.
“Hey,” he said.
She couldn’t respond. Her throat was too tight for any words to squeeze through. He lifted his hands to cup her face, his thumbs brushing away tears she hadn’t realized she was crying.
He straightened up again, lifting her from the chair as he did so, then taking the seat and settling her in his lap, cuddling her as she’d cuddled Cody.
She wanted to protest that she was too big to be held like a baby, but it felt good to be in his arms. As the strength and warmth of his embrace penetrated the ice that had encased her body, she began to tremble.
He tightened his hold as silent tears continued to spill down her cheeks. But he didn’t say anything, because what was there to say?
“I want to wake up and discover it was only a bad dream, that there was no phone call from the sheriff of—” she sighed “—where did he say he was from?”
“Clearwater County.”
“Do you think it’s possible they made a mistake?” she asked, grasping for any explanation other than the one she knew in her heart to be true. “Maybe Leighton’s car was stolen and—”
“She identified herself to the paramedics when they first arrived on scene,” Wilder said. “And the sheriff confirmed that she had a constellation tattoo.”
“But Leighton doesn’t have a tattoo,” Beth said.
“Actually, she does,” he told her, a reminder that he’d been intimately acquainted with her sister’s naked body. “The Leo constellation, in the middle of her back, between her shoulder blades.”
“Oh.” Leo was her sister’s Zodiac sign. “So it really was her? She really is...gone?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry, Beth.”
She was sorry, too. And sad and angry and filled with so many more emotions that she couldn’t begin to identify.
But somehow she felt empty, too.
Her sister was gone.
Not on a whim.
Not for a while.
Forever.
“I need to make arrangements,” she realized. “But I have no idea where to begin, what she’d want.”
She was silent for a minute, trying to focus through the grief to think. “Her friends are in Dallas. Our parents are buried there.”
And suddenly the answer was obvious: “I have to go home.”