Chapter 10 #2
He spread his bare feet apart on the grassy creek bank and leveled a stern look at her.
“I’ll be fine, especially now that I’ve become such a great shot.” She was teasing, since she still had a long way to go before she became even half as good as him.
He stared at her hard—so hard it felt like he was seeing straight down into her soul. “Why was your husband gone so often?”
She stiffened. “How do you know he was gone often?”
“How do you think?”
She should have known the boys would tell Jameson things about their family, especially with as much time as they’d spent with him. “What does my husband’s leaving have to do with anything?”
“Just trying to understand why Vinnie left you alone when your husband wasn’t around.”
“And I’m trying to understand why you’re in such a hurry to move on,” she repeated.
He held her gaze as if they were in a standoff. Maybe they were—to see who would open up first.
A few long seconds ticked past. “I’m a drifter,” he said, surprising her by being the first to give in. “I told you that.”
“But why a drifter?”
“It suits me.”
“Fine.” She couldn’t hold back the exasperation in her tone. “My husband was gone because he was a drifter and it suited him.”
Jameson didn’t move.
“If you refuse to be vulnerable with me,” she explained with even more exasperation, “then don’t expect me to share with you.” With that, she spun and started to head back up the trail.
“Wait.”
She didn’t stop.
A second later, he grasped her arm and brought her to a halt.
She held herself stiffly.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
She spun back around and found herself face-to-face with him.
He wasn’t looking at her, though. Instead, he was staring absently at the bloom of yucca flowers rising from the tall plant next to her. “I left home last year . . . after exchanging harsh words with my father.”
No doubt there was much more to his tale, and she waited quietly for him to be ready to share it.
Even though they had talked a lot during the long days of rounding up and moving the cattle, he hadn’t told her much about himself, his family, or his past. She hadn’t wanted to push, because she sensed some kind of pain was holding him back.
But with him heading out soon, maybe she felt more freedom to pry.
The silence lengthened and his expression grew taut, as if he was remembering the exchange with his father. “He told me I was a drunk, that I was ruining my life, and that if I wanted to keep working on the ranch, I had to stop all the drinking and carousing.”
“I can’t picture you as a drunk.”
“I was a bad drunk. And my father had every right to tell me to stop.”
“But . . .”
“But he also said some other hurtful things, mainly that I wouldn’t amount to much, unlike my brother.”
“I’m sorry, Jameson.”
He nodded but was still staring at the yucca flowers. “He shouldn’t have compared me to Coleman. Not after all the trouble Coleman had caused the previous summer . . .” His pause was loaded.
She wasn’t sure if she should press him for more, except that she had the feeling he’d been bearing a heavy burden for too long by himself. She knew how that felt, and she wanted to help lighten his load. “Coleman is your brother?” she asked softly.
“Older than me by about a year.” His voice was tinged with bitterness. “We were close growing up.”
“But he did something to hurt you that summer.”
Jameson seemed to swallow hard. “He stole the woman I loved.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “That’s horrible.”
He didn’t shake off her hold. “He was always a ladies’ man. I just never expected him to charm my lady away from me.”
“So you left home because seeing them together was too painful?”
The weight hovering over Jameson suddenly seemed even heavier, and he didn’t respond.
“You don’t have to say more—”
“Sue Ellen died that summer . . . and I’m to blame.” The confession was low and wretched.
Lottie hesitated. What could she possibly say to that? She scrambled to find something honest and yet comforting.
Before she could formulate the right words, he spoke again.
“A few days before Coleman was set to leave for law school, she came out to the ranch and asked him to marry her and take her with him.” He sucked in a breath.
“Coleman told her he couldn’t, that what they’d had was just a fun time and nothing more. ”
“Coleman sounds like a great fellow.”
His muscles had grown rigid beneath her hand. “He was a selfish and conceited fool, especially because he knew Sue Ellen and me were practically engaged.” Jameson blew out a breath, then lowered himself to the boulder on the trail behind him.
Silence settled between them, and although Lottie wanted to hear everything, she knew she had to let him share the rest in his own time.
The moonlight glistened on his damp hair and in the damp scruff on his face. It also highlighted the grave lines in his forehead and at the corners of his eyes. “When she left the barn where she’d been talking with Coleman, I followed her to her horse. But she told me to leave her alone.”
This Sue Ellen sounded great too, but Lottie bit back the words.
“She rode off, and instead of going home, she went up into the mountains.” He spoke in a taut whisper. “No one realized until the next morning, when her father came out looking for her.”
“She got lost?”
“We found her horse wandering around Bald Mountain. We searched the area for two days and finally found her at the bottom of a ravine with a broken neck.”
“Shoot.”
Jameson stared at his hands resting on his thighs.
“You said you’re to blame for her death,” Lottie said. “Why do you think that?”
He heaved another sigh. “Because I knew she was hurting that day, and I shouldn’t have let her ride away by herself. I should have gone with her.”
“But she told you to leave her alone, right?”
“People say things when they’re upset that they don’t really mean.”
“But you couldn’t have known she wouldn’t go home.”
“I knew she was hurt by Coleman.”
“Why didn’t Coleman go after her? Seems like he should have been the one to make sure she was okay, since the argument was between them.”
“He didn’t know her or care about her the same way I did.”
It was obvious Jameson wasn’t at fault for Sue Ellen’s death. But why couldn’t he see that? “She was disloyal to you if she could so easily fall for Coleman, especially if she’d already been talking about getting engaged to you.”
“He’s a charmer. Most women don’t stand a chance against him.”
“Everyone makes their own choices when it comes to relationships, even with charmers.” She knew that well enough because of Dray. Mimmi had tried to warn her about Dray’s charm, but she’d chosen to ignore all the signs that things weren’t quite right.
“Regardless,” Lottie continued, “even if Sue Ellen had really liked Coleman and had realized you weren’t the man for her, she was selfish too and could have handled the situation with more grace and kindness.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely. You were faithful to Sue Ellen, but she wasn’t faithful back. You’re not at fault for her fickleness and recklessness.”
He shrugged with his uninjured shoulder. “Maybe I could have been a better man so that she wouldn’t have wanted someone else.”
“Even if you were only half the man you are now, then she couldn’t have asked for a better husband.”
“Thank you,” he replied softly.
“Coleman had a role in everything that happened too.”
“My father couldn’t see that. In his eyes, Coleman could never do any wrong. But me? I was always the failure.”
“So that’s why you left home?”
“No one in my family understood all that happened. So I figured it was better if I moved on.”
“But that still doesn’t explain why you’ve chosen to be a drifter.”
He peered up at the sky, his expression intense. “Guess I don’t really know why,” he said softly. “Maybe because I still feel guilty.”
“You’re not guilty, Jameson. I can say that with all honesty as an outsider looking in with nothing to gain.”
He didn’t agree with her, but he also didn’t disagree. Maybe that was some progress in his healing journey. Because yes, he needed to heal more on the inside than on the out.
After a moment of silence, he met her gaze directly. “Your turn. Tell me why you ran away from town and are living out here fighting everyone and everything.”
“I thought you wanted to know about why Dray was a drifter.”
Jameson crossed his arms. “That too.”
Protest rose swiftly inside her at the prospect of revealing her past hurts. But how could she refuse now that he’d shared his?