Chapter 16
Now that their charade was over, Sheridan didn’t want to leave Stone Creek Ranch. The time she’d spent here had been joyful, despite Odette and Aunt Estelle. She’d learned a lot about Wyatt, not to mention about herself.
She loved him. She knew it now without any doubt.
What she didn’t know is if he felt the same.
He certainly acted like it, but then, how would she know?
She’d never been in love before and no one, as far as she knew, had been in love with her.
How did one act? How did one show love? If anyone had seen the way Wyatt had behaved the entire time her grandmother and aunt were here, they’d certainly say he was in love, but it wasn’t real. It was all for their benefit.
And it was over now. She and Wyatt had accomplished what they’d set out to do, their ruse a success with Odette and Aunt Estelle honestly believing they were married.
She didn’t think leaving would be so hard.
She finished packing her bags, though there wasn’t much, then just stood in the middle of his room. Her gaze flew to the bed and the memory of what they’d done made the heat rise to her face.
“They’re gone. I watched the stagecoach until it left town.”
His voice came from the doorway and seemed happy. She didn’t turn to look at him, not then. She couldn’t. Tears pricked her eyes and a lump was growing in her throat.
He didn’t come further into the room and when he spoke again, his tone had changed, the happiness gone, replaced with surprise. “You’re all packed?”
She turned then, her eyes roaming over him, memorizing every inch of him. “Yes.” Ask me to stay, the words popped into her head, unbidden, but that’s what her heart wanted—to stay with him.
He said nothing for the longest time, his gaze steady on her, and then he drew in his breath. “Did you say goodbye to my mother?”
She sniffed back her tears. “Yes.”
“And Royce?”
She nodded, completely undone, her heart breaking.
She really didn’t want to leave, not now, perhaps not ever, but she didn’t quite have the gumption to tell him, as she’d never learned to ask for anything.
And he didn’t ask, which hurt, too. Their time together had been just a favor, after all, despite how he acted.
It was plain to see that he didn’t share her feelings.
He wasn’t in love with her like she was with him.
“Well then,” he said, but it seemed like he wanted to say something else. After another long, uncomfortable moment, he simply nodded, then reached for two of her bags and left the room.
Sheridan watched him go, then picked up her small valise and followed him on legs that felt like they were made of wood instead of flesh and bone.
Delilah waited at the bottom of the stairs, though they’d already said their goodbyes. She drew her into a warm embrace. “I wish you weren’t leaving,” she whispered as she released her. “Come back and see me.”
“I will,” she promised, but at this moment, she didn’t think she could. The memories were too strong, the happiness, albeit brief, filling her heart. Had it only been a little over a week? How could so much have happened in that short a time?
Royce drew her into a hug as well, then released her quickly. “It’s been a pleasure, my dear,” he said, his voice gruff, his expression filled with sadness.
She nodded, unable to speak, then walked out the front door. Her bags were piled into the back seat of the buggy. Wyatt took her hand and helped her to alight. He said not a word, but there was a look on his face, like maybe he didn’t want her to go either?
Tell him. Tell him you don’t want to go. Tell him you want to stay with him.
The words were in her head, but she couldn’t say them out loud. She’d never asked for what she wanted, simply accepted what she was given. Where was her bravery? She’d had it for such a short time when she told Odette and Estelle what she thought. It seemed to have vanished as quickly as it came.
The ride back to town was made in silence. It seemed like Wyatt’s face was set in stone but the muscle in his jaw twitched and the closer they got to town, the faster it twitched.
Ask me to stay. The words kept repeating in her head, the rhythm coinciding with the steady clip-clop of the horse’s hooves. Why couldn’t she say them? She wanted to—wanted to demand he turn the buggy around and go back home.
Home.
The word echoed in her head. Yes, Stone Creek Ranch had become home in the short time she’d been there.
She’d never felt so comfortable in a place, so cherished, especially before Odette and Aunt Estelle had arrived.
It was idyllic, despite the demanding work.
Riding out to the field, watching him interact with Ken and Hank, meeting Hank’s lovely wife and baby girl.
For a while, it was easy to believe she belonged there.
He brought the buggy to a halt in front of Josie’s.
She drew in her breath, despite the constriction in her throat, her gaze roaming over the house, then over him. “Thank you, Wyatt. I deeply appreciate what you did for me. Delilah and Royce, too.”
He gave a short nod, helped her from the buggy, then pulled her luggage from the back seat and brought them into the house, his actions taking her by surprise, making her heart hurt even more. Was he that anxious to get rid of her?
Sheridan stepped up to the porch, holding back the tears that threatened to leak from her eyes.
Wyatt came out the door and just stood there, seemingly unsure, until he drew her into his arms without a word and pressed his lips to hers.
His embrace tightened as his kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping against hers, igniting that flutter of want and need within her once more.
And then it was over. He broke the kiss, touched the brim of his hat with his fingers, then rushed to the waiting buggy, his actions odd, and thoroughly confusing. His kiss hadn’t felt like ‘goodbye’. It felt more like a promise, but a promise of what?
She stepped into the house, dazed, more confused than she’d ever been, and hurt, so very hurt.
“Sheridan!” Mrs. Gallagher put the last bottle of liquor on the rolling cart, replenishing what had already been used. It was Friday evening, after all, and the customers had already started arriving. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the ranch?”
She put down her portmanteau, then promptly burst into tears.
Mrs. Gallagher rushed forward and gathered her in her arms. “Oh, lass, don’t cry.”
“He doesn’t want me. He was only helping me.” She sniffed then swiped at her eyes, removing the wetness even as she fell more deeply into Mrs. Gallagher’s hug. “It felt so real. I wanted it to be real.”
“Come.” Mrs. Gallagher patted her back then pulled away. “Let me fix you a cup of tea. You’ll feel better after a nice cuppa.”
“Tea isn’t going to fix it this time.”
Mrs. Gallagher looked at her, really looked at her and a slow smile spread her lips. “You love him.”
“I do.”
“Does he know?”
“I don’t think it matters. He’s not in love with me.”
“Maybe he is. You should tell him.”
“I think so as well.” Susannah, who’d been sitting in the corner in one of the most comfortable chairs, put down the book she’d been reading, uncurled her legs from beneath her bottom and stood.
She strode across the room, almost ethereal in her sheer nightgown and robe.
“Never seen a man look at a woman like he looks at you.” She reached out and grasped her hand, holding it in the most reassuring way. “Tell him.”
“It’s too late. And it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t love me.
” She pulled her hand out of Susannah’s grasp, picked up her portmanteau and trudged up the stairs.
She didn’t even hear the moans and groans, the squeaking of the bed springs, or the laughter as she entered her room, closed the door then flung herself on the bed.
“You’re a fool, Wyatt MacLean! I’m almost ashamed to call you my son right now.
” Delilah shook a wooden spoon at him. For a moment, he thought she might hit him with it.
She didn’t, of course. Delilah had never raised a hand to any of her boys, but that was his greeting the following morning when Wyatt walked into the kitchen.
After bringing Sheridan back to her house, he’d stayed out in the barn, his sleep restless among the horses, for two reasons.
One, because he knew the fragrance of Sheridan’s perfume would be the first thing he smelled when he walked into the house, and two, because he knew his mother would have words for him.
He wasn’t prepared for either. Nor did he want to face them.
There were questions in his own mind he couldn’t answer and, though he didn’t expect a ‘good morning’ when he swallowed his pride and entered the house, he didn’t expect to be called a fool, either.
He couldn’t argue with her though because she was right. He was a fool. A big giant ass! And maybe a coward to boot!
“How could you let her go?” Delilah demanded, her hands on her hips, a stance he’d seen too many times.
He looked away from his mother, unwilling to see the hurt and anger in her eyes, but that was a mistake too, because his gaze fell on the rooster-shaped cookie jar.
The memory of Duke begging for a treat and Sheridan laughing while she gave it to him flashed in his mind.
He closed his eyes, willing the memory away and finally mumbled, “She wanted to leave.”
“No, she didn’t. Anyone with eyes in their head could see that. She was happy. You—” She emphasized the word “—were happy. For the first time in a long time.” She reached out and laid her free hand on his arm, then looked deeply into his eyes. “Are you afraid she’ll do to you what Katie did?”
He shook his head. That had never been a worry. “Sheridan isn’t like that. She’s—”
“She’s what, Wyatt?”
“Kind. Sweet. Gentle.”
“Then why did you let her go?”