Chapter 7
Iwatch her sleep. Hours have passed since we made love, but I can’t rest, and I don’t want to leave. Even my panther is content to stay next to my angel. I’ve been running ever since my pride sent me away. I go to a place, the past catches up with me, and I move on.
One day, what happened in Florida and what people thought of me, will make its way to Broken Arrow. How can I start something with Daile? I can’t subject her to my lifestyle.
Her life is going well. Her art will be a huge hit in California and around the world. She shouldn’t be saddled with a man who hides in the shadows. Besides, once she hits it big, she’ll leave Broken Arrow. This is a place to hide and she won’t want that.
Though, she did come here. What made her choose an out-of-the-way town in Montana?
It occurs to me that I’ve told her a lot about myself, but asked little about her life.
As if she hears my thoughts, she stirs and stretches. Her eyes blink open and a soft smile pulls at her lips. “What are you doing?”
“Watching you sleep.”
She leans on her elbow and faces me. “Why? You do sleep, don’t you?”
“I sleep.” I love how the moon shining through the window makes her skin glow. “I was thinking that I don’t know enough about you.”
“What do you want to know?” Pushing me to my back, she rests her chin on her hand on my chest.
I stroke the wild hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. “Where did you grow up?”
“In a small town in Colorado called Bean. It has more people than Broken Arrow, but not many more.” She gets a faraway look for a moment and then focuses on me again.
“Did you live there all your life?”
She shakes her head. “I went to art school in New York and then went to Paris for six months. My mom got sick, so I came home to take care of her.”
The catch in her voice makes me hurt as if I’d been there. “Your mom didn’t recover?”
“No. She passed within weeks of me getting home.” A tear rolls slowly down her cheek.
Capturing the drop, I wipe it away. “I’m sorry. Do you have more family there?”
Rolling away, she rests her head on the pillow and stares up at the ceiling. “Dad died within a year of mom and I’m an only child. I have some close friends, and I met Peter. He and I dated and were going to get married.”
“What happened?” I have to command my fists not to clench and my panther to relax. “I’m assuming you didn’t get married?”
She leans on her side and a soft smile warms her eyes. “I’m not married. It turns out that Peter couldn’t go through with it. He sent his best man to break it off on our wedding day. It could have been worse, at least it was before I arrived at the church. I can’t imagine having to explain to the entire town that I’d been dumped at the altar. My friend Karen called the church and a few other friends. Of course, it’s a small town, and word and gossip spread like wildfire.”
On the one hand, I want to go to Colorado and defend her to everyone, but on the other, I’m not sorry her marriage didn’t happen. “When was this?”
She sighs. “Eighteen months ago. I tried to stay and let the rumors die out. If I’d been patient, someone else’s life would have become more interesting and people would have stopped talking about poor Daile Whittaker. I couldn’t take it, so I packed up and drove away. Somehow, I ended up here. I stopped for coffee and saw a notice about a house for rent pinned to the bulletin board. I thought it must be a sign. I slept in my car that night, and in the morning, I called about renting this place.”
“I’m sorry for small-minded people, Daile, but I’m not sorry you found your way here.” I lean in and kiss her. “I’m glad I found you, even if the big city will soon swoop in and want your attention.”
“I just want to make art that gives people joy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’m lucky my parents left me enough to be able to do what I love. You know, those people from Los Angeles might not come through. It’s nice they liked the paintings, but I’ve been close to success before and it usually comes to nothing.”
The doubt and resignation in her voice fill me with something I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before. I want to protect her and somehow convey that everything will be alright. I long to tell her that I’ve got her back.
It’s foolish and I push away the notion. I never stay anywhere longer than my past can be ignored. Sooner or later, the pack here will find out about the scandal with my parents and they’ll run me out of town.
She snuggles against my side. “It’s like fate drew us here. Both of us have lost our families.” She draws circles with her finger over my abdomen. “You should sleep now, Jorge.”
Wrapping her in my arms, I breathe in her warm fresh scent and let my eyes close.
Madeline, the woman from Los Angeles, called a week later to schedule Daile’s show. She gave four months for the work to be done and Daile agreed.
Four months to love this woman a lifetime’s worth before she leaves and the lights of the big city claim her. While Broken Arrow is the first place that’s felt like it could be home, I’m not sure I’ll have the same feelings once she’s gone.
That was two weeks ago, and because she’s painting on a deadline, I usually stop over with dinner every evening after work. I’ve learned that when she’s in the zone, she forgets everything else, including taking care of herself. I don’t mind being the person who makes sure she eats and sleeps. In fact, my panther thinks caring for her is all there is.
The last three weeks have been the best of my life. Sometimes I sit silently and watch her paint. Most nights we make love, but I’m almost as happy to hold her in my arms.
Tonight, I have a take-out bag with meatloaf and mashed potatoes. It’s her favorite. Someday, I’ll make fancier food for her, but for now, if she loves meatloaf, that’s what she gets.
A strange scent reaches me before I knock on the door. Male.
My panther growls.
Restraining the beast, I knock.
The door swings open and a man with hair frosted at the tips and a sports jacket stares at me. He looks like he just stepped out of a preppy magazine. His gaze moves to the bag. “Are you the delivery guy? Smells good. What do I owe you?”
“Peter, don’t open my front door as if you live here,” Daile calls from somewhere behind frosty.
The panther inside me is very close to the surface. I know Peter is the ex who left her practically at the altar. Why is he here? How did he know where to find her? Why the fuck does he think he should pay for her dinner?
“I was just being thoughtful, baby.” Peter turns toward the living room.
“Don’t you dare call me that.” Her voice is full of a venom I’ve never heard from her.
That soothes my growing jealousy. “I’m not the delivery guy.” I pull open the screen and step inside just as Daile shoves Peter away from the door.
She stares into my eyes as if relieved and surprised to see me. She whispers, “He just showed up.”
I nod. It’s the best I can do. I kiss her cheek, then put the food on the kitchen counter. Gathering the cat’s temper takes a few seconds. I hold out my hand. “Peter, is it? I’m Jorge. What brings you to Montana?”
The way he stares at my hand, it might as well be a snake, but after a long pause, he shakes it. “I came to talk to Daile.”
“And have you?” I look away from his smarmy face to where Daile stands near the front door with her arms wrapped around her waist.
“No. I don’t want to talk.” Daile storms out of the living room toward her studio, while muttering, “I don’t even know how he found me.”
A very large part of me would take great pleasure in tossing Peter from the house, but another, more reasonable part has questions. “How did you find where she’s living?”
“Who the hell are you? Whoever you are, this is none of your business.” Peter moves to follow Daile.
I step into his path. “She said she didn’t want to talk to you. Who I am is not important beyond that I’m the man who will protect Daile from any harm.”
His mouth gapes, then he closes it. “I’m not going to hurt her. I just want her to come home. I had to drive hours from a decent airport to get to this town in the middle of nowhere.” He raises his voice and calls over my shoulder. “What on earth do you see in this place?”
It would be so easy to let the panther loose and tear this guy”s throat out, then drag him into the woods for the animals to dispose of. Unfortunately, I’m not the murderer my pride takes me for. “I want to know how you found her, but maybe you should be asking yourself why she was hiding from you, Peter.”
“I called her about a hundred times. She won’t call me back, so I hired a private detective to find her. I need to talk. I made a mistake.” He calls toward the studio again. “I forgive you for whatever you did with this—guy, Daile. We can pretend it never happened. Just come home.”
Rage wells up inside me. I could ignore his insult to me, but Daile is everything, and he hurt her. Now he looks at me like I’m the interloper and demands she go away with him. I could tolerate her art pulling her away from me. This is too much.
I’m about to show him the door when Daile steps into the living room. “You’ll forgive me?”
“Of course I will.” His smile and the way he glares at me before he gives her a sympathetic look is nauseating.
If Peter is what she wants, then I’ll step aside. My panther is raging inside me. He demands I fight for my woman, but that’s not the way the world works anymore. Not for me, anyway. I step out of his way.
Smirk in place, he closes the distance between himself and Daile. “I made a mistake too. I never should have let you go. When you come home, we’ll have a big wedding just like you wanted.”
“I wanted?” she whispers it as if to herself.
There’s no point in my being here, but I can’t leave. I need her to tell me she’s through with me and then I’ll have to watch her go away with this jackass. That’s when I’ll know the past few weeks were only special in my imagination.