Читать книгу: «Once a Rebel», страница 2

Two

Ethan parked his truck and entered the outer courtyard of the main house, where native plants and ornamental grasses flourished. He took the stone walkway, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Dusk had long since fallen and Susan hadn’t showed up at his place. For some self-absorbed reason, he’d expected her to visit him, to take advantage of his invitation. Seventeen years ago, she would’ve jumped at the chance.

But apparently times had changed.

He blew out a rough breath and inhaled the night-blooming flowers that flanked his path. Was it too late to call on her?

He adjusted his hat, lowering it on his head. Susan never failed to make his blood warm, even when they were kids. He had no business wanting her. Not then and not now.

But he couldn’t help it.

When they were teenagers, he’d heard all sorts of stories about her. He had no idea if the rumors were true. According to gossip, she’d slept with a slew of boys in Red Rock. She’d supposedly devirginized a few of them, too.

Not that his fantasies hadn’t run in that direction. She’d been the object of every wet dream he could remember. But he’d had other dreams about her, too. He’d wanted to protect her, to heal her the way he’d learned to minister to the animals on the ranch. But Susan hadn’t been a wounded filly or an ailing calf. She’d been wild and independent, as raw as the confusion she’d caused.

The confusion she was still causing.

Ethan wanted to give in to temptation. He wanted to unlock the mystery of the girl he’d refrained from touching, the girl who’d bloomed into a sophisticated woman.

With anxiety churning in his gut, he mounted the front steps. Why hadn’t she stopped by the hunting cabin to see him? Had she deliberately left him panting after her? Or was he reading too much into it?

Either way, he was trapped, locked in good and tight.

The way she used to flirt with him. The nights he’d spent thinking about her. Every last memory was magnified in his mind, right down to the day she’d gone off to college.

The day she’d disappeared from his life.

Ethan cleared his thoughts, then knocked on the door, expecting Lily to answer his summons. But when Susan appeared, wearing a flowing robe draped over a pair of silky pajamas, he wished he’d had the sense to forget about her.

She presented a soft, sultry image, with the top button on her pajamas straining above her breasts. The robe gaped in that spot, drawing his gaze to the slight swell of cleavage.

“Ethan?”

He pulled his gaze to her face. Her honey-blond hair fell in a loose, nighttime style, lightly combed and framing her chin. He wondered if it smelled like lemons. Her hair had been longer when they were younger, and the citrus scent used to drive him half-mad. Not that she would know the difference. He’d never mentioned it.

“I wasn’t expecting you.” She tightened the belt on her robe, but her modest effort didn’t change a thing.

He could still see the straining button.

He cleared his throat. “I hope it’s not too late for a visit.”

“No. Of course not.” She recovered her composure. “Ryan and Lily already went to bed, but I was just getting ready to fix a cup of tea. Would you like some?”

He rarely drank tea, but he wasn’t about to turn her down, not after showing up at her door. “Sure. That’d be nice.”

Ethan followed her into the kitchen, where she filled a stainless steel kettle, the kind that whistled, and set it on the stove. He remembered that his mom used to boil water in one of those. As a child, he used to wonder what made it cry out.

When Susan turned to look at him, he caught himself frowning.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He wiped the surly expression off his face. Thinking about his mom always put him in a bad mood. “I’m fine.”

She invited him to sit in the dining room, where she was still close enough to hear the whistle blow.

He removed his denim jacket and placed it over the back of a chair. But he didn’t expect her to remove her robe. She still had it cinched. As a teenager, she used to show a lot of flesh, wearing skimpy outfits designed to set his gender on fire. Yet somehow, the misbehaving button on her pajama top seemed even sexier than all those cropped T-shirts and short-shorts ever did.

“Is there something special you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked.

Suddenly Ethan had the urge to bolt. He didn’t know what to say, how to explain his compulsion to see her at this hour, so he faked it the best he could. “We didn’t have much time to visit earlier, to catch up on old times.”

She smoothed the Aztec-printed placemat in front of her. “You had an appointment.”

“I’m not in a hurry now.” Which was a lie, of course. He was anxious as hell, impatient to cross the finish line, to have a zipper-blasting affair with her. He’d always been sexually obsessed with her, but things had been complicated when they were young.

She tilted her head. “So that’s your only agenda? To catch up on old times?”

Guilt clawed at his chest. She’d come home to be with Ryan, to help him face the prospect of death. Tearing up the sheets with a man from her past didn’t factor into the equation. “You think I have ulterior motives? Me? The guy who never even kissed you?”

Susan appeared to be pondering his words. And worse yet, she was assessing his body language. He could tell by the way she looked at him. He wondered if she could see through him, if that was part of her job, something psychologists of her caliber were able to do.

“You didn’t come here tonight to see how much I’ve changed? To decide if I’m still a bad girl deep inside?”

He cursed beneath his breath, wishing he’d stayed away from her. “I came here because—”

The whistle on the kettle blew, nearly jarring him out of his skin. She hopped up, bumping the table, rattling his emotions.

“I’ll go get our tea,” she said.

He waited in the dining room. Once the kettle stopped making noise, the house fell into a slumberous hush. Nothing stirred but his heart.

Trying to relax, Ethan looked around. The Spanish-style decor appealed to him. He liked the heavy woods and rich textures.

Susan returned with a clay-colored tray that held two stoneware cups, a small variety of tea bags, a bowl of sugar and a cow-shaped creamer.

He chose an herbal blend that came in an orange packet, but he didn’t add anything to it. Susan picked the same flavor, doctoring hers with sugar and milk.

The drink was warm against his throat, more soothing than he expected. And he was glad she’d provided sturdy cups. His hands were too big for delicate china.

“Go ahead and finish what you were going to say,” she told him. “Tell me why you’re really here.”

He opted for honesty. But not complete honesty. He was keeping his hunger to himself. “It bugged me that you didn’t stop by today.”

“I considered it. But I didn’t want you to think I was starting that old cycle again. Throwing myself at you.”

Her admission gave him a boost of confidence. “Maybe we could do something together. Go on a date or something.”

“A date?” She sounded intrigued yet wary, still unsure of his intentions.

He backed off a bit, lifting one shoulder in an easy shrug. “Just something casual.”

She sucked in a breath. “Like what?”

“We could go for a ride tomorrow afternoon. It’s supposed to warm up.” And he was willing to rearrange his schedule to spend some time with her. “Around noon?”

“Do you have a horse that would suit me? I never was a skilled rider.”

“I’ve got a gentle old mare. I inherited her from one of my clients. I got roped into some dogs, too. And there’s a wild squirrel that pesters me for attention.”

She gave him a sweet smile. “You were always good with strays. With the wild ones, too.”

Grateful, he returned her smile. He’d always considered her a stray. And she’d been as wild as they come. “We can have a picnic. I can pick up some deli food.”

“Why don’t you let me pack our lunch? It will be my contribution to the date.”

“Thanks. That sounds great. I’ll trailer the horses to the hunting cabin ahead of time. You can meet me there instead of the barn.”

She agreed, and he finished his tea and left before it got too late. But as they said goodbye, they parted without any physical contact. No hug, no kiss on the cheek.

Nothing that indicated what tomorrow would bring.

The following morning a puffy blue sky presided over leafy plants and flowering perennials. Susan shared the inner courtyard with Lily and Ryan, who sat across from her at a glass-topped table. This was Susan’s favorite place on the Double Crown. An old-fashioned swing was positioned beneath a vine-draped arbor, and a fountain bubbled in the morning air.

Breakfast consisted of a Spanish omelet, buttered toast, orange juice and coffee. Ryan added more salsa to his omelet, and Susan was glad to see him up and about, enjoying quality time with his wife.

“You look pretty this morning,” Lily said to Susan.

“Thank you.” Susan was dressed in a red T-shirt and Wrangler jeans. Her boots, a sorrel shade of brown, sported a heart design on the toes. She’d fussed over her appearance, taking extra care with her hair and makeup. She’d tried to create a natural look, something that suited her outdoor date with Ethan.

Ryan squinted at Susan, the lines around his eyes crinkling his tanned skin. “You don’t seem very hungry.”

She glanced up from her plate. “I usually eat a light breakfast. Besides, I’m going on a picnic with Ethan, and I’m trying to save room.”

The older man smiled. “Well, that didn’t take long, did it? You’ve only been here for one day and you two made plans already.”

“Don’t tease me. I’m already nervous.” She checked her watch. “I’ve been up since the crack of dawn.” And now she still had two hours to go. But she’d already fried a batch of chicken and filled a plastic container with homemade potato salad.

Ryan’s smile shifted to his wife. “We decided to sleep in. To cozy up a bit.”

A girlish blush stained Lily’s cheeks, and Susan wondered what it would feel like to have a husband, to turn off the alarm clock and snuggle in a pair of strong arms, to know he would always be there.

No, she thought, her emotions turning sad. He wouldn’t always be there. If marriage didn’t end in divorce, then it ended in death.

There was no pain-free escape.

“Tell me about Jason Jamison,” she said, her mind drifting to the criminal who’d been haunting her family.

Ryan set down his fork. “He’s a madman. A disgruntled relative.”

“He’s one of us?”

“In a roundabout way. As you know, my father, Kingston, was adopted by the Fortune family. And a man named Travis Jamison was his biological father.”

“And Jason is a descendent of Travis?”

Ryan nodded, but Lily didn’t move. She sat quietly, listening to Susan and her husband discuss the Fortune legacy.

“Did Travis know about Kingston?” Susan asked. “Did he know he had a son?”

“No. But once Jason discovered that he was a long-lost relative of my father, he swooped down on us like the vulture he is.”

Lily finally spoke. “Jason is a killer. A heartless murderer.”

A chill rattled Susan’s spine, like ice chips scraping against each and every vertebra. She already knew that Jason was a killer, but hearing Lily say it, listening to the anxiety in her voice, brought the reality that much closer to home.

“Did Vincent tell you that Natalie witnessed one of the murders?” Lily asked.

Susan nodded. Vincent was her oldest brother and he’d filled her in about what Natalie, his new bride, had seen. “Jason strangled his own lover. A woman he was passing off as his wife.”

“That’s right,” Lily said. “And before that, Jason shot his own brother.”

Susan couldn’t imagine someone killing his or her sibling. But according to the Bible, Cain had slain Abel. It wasn’t something new.

“Jason has another brother,” Ryan put in. “And this one’s an FBI agent. He’s going to contact me when he gets into town. He’s put other killers behind bars, and he’s not going to rest until he catches Jason.”

“What’s his name?” Susan asked, curious about the man Ryan was putting his faith in.

“Emmett,” he told her. “Emmett Jamison.”

“Jason already escaped from prison,” Lily told Susan. “It happened while he was being transferred to a maximum-security facility.” She paused, took a breath. “We’re grateful that Special Agent Jamison is on his tail. We need all the help we can get.”

Ryan took his wife’s hand. “It will be okay, honey. I promise, it will.”

“I know. But I couldn’t bear it if he hurt someone in our family.” She met Susan’s gaze across the table. “Just because we have security on the ranch doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be careful. Or take their presence for granted.”

Ryan interjected. “Of course she’ll be careful. We all will. But we can’t live in fear. We can’t let Jason destroy our lives.” He brought Lily’s hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “We deserve some happiness. Some peace and quiet.”

Susan didn’t say anything. She let Ryan give his wife the comfort she needed. The support only a husband, the man who loved her, could provide.

At noon, Susan arrived at the hunting cabin. She parked the SUV she’d borrowed from Ryan behind Ethan’s truck and trailer and noticed the horses that were tied to a hitching post on the side of the property.

The building itself, a rustic log structure, sat on a piece of land that blended into the horizon, stretching as far as the eye could see. In the front yard a scatter of trees provided shady ambience, and a rough-hewn porch offered two sturdy, old barrel chairs, where a trio of dogs enjoyed the afternoon sun.

The largest of the three, a black Lab, lifted its head as Susan approached, then leaped forward to greet her like an old friend. The other two, mutts of unknown origin, barely paid her any mind.

Within seconds, Ethan flung open the door, and her pulse jumped to her throat. He looked tall and strong—a man with a powerful presence. Shadows cut across his shoulders, dappling the front of a chambray shirt. Beneath the brim of his ever-present hat, those bright blue eyes glittered like twin jewels.

The mixed-breed dogs glanced up at him, but the Lab stayed by her side.

“He likes women,” Ethan told her.

“So you’re a boy,” she said to the Lab.

“His name is Chocolate. But don’t blame me for that. My ex-girlfriend named him.”

Curious, Susan tilted her chin. His voice held no malice, but it didn’t ring of affection, either, or any kind of substantial loss. It made her wonder about Ethan’s capacity to fall in love.

“Are you analyzing me?” he asked.

Caught red-handed, she adjusted the canvas bag over her shoulder. “What can I say? You’re a fascinating subject. Besides, you brought up your ex.”

“Only because of Chocolate’s name. And you fascinate me, too. You always did. Even if I never kissed you.”

Susan glanced at his mouth, and that familiar smile spread across his lips. He was flirting with her, letting down his guard. And she was tempted to flirt back, to enjoy the affection she used to crave from him.

Enraptured, they gazed at each other, with Chocolate standing between them. Then the dog decided he wanted some attention and jammed his nose against Susan’s crotch.

She started, and Ethan bit back a laugh.

“I told you he liked women.”

“That’s not funny. You should correct him.”

“I do, but he never listens. Especially about that.”

“So you just gave up?”

He shrugged, and she shook her head and shoved the canvas bag at him. A gentle shove that had him smiling at her again.

“What’s in here?” he asked. “Dirty magazines? A month’s supply of condoms?”

She raised her eyebrows. When Ethan flirted, he flirted. No holds barred. “It’s our lunch, you pervert.”

“Look who’s talking. The girl who drove every boy in the county mad.”

“I don’t do that anymore.”

“Wanna bet?” He grinned and peered into the bag, examining the contents. “Fried chicken gets a guy every time.”

“There are cookies in there, too.”

“Chocolate chip?”

She glanced at the Lab, making sure he didn’t react too strongly to his name. “Peanut butter. But I didn’t bake them. They were left over in the kitchen.”

“I’ll bet Rosita made them,” he said, referring to Ryan and Lily’s housekeeper. “She used to give me sweets when I was a kid.”

Susan nodded. She knew that Rosita’s husband, Ruben, was a retired ranch hand, a man who’d worked with Ethan’s dad. “How’s your father doing these days?” she asked, assuming he’d retired, as well.

Ethan’s easy manner faltered. “Dad died four months ago. I guess Ryan didn’t tell you.”

“No, he didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Ryan’s had a lot on his mind.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “But he took it pretty hard. He and Dad were close.”

“So were you and your father,” she said, recalling the stable relationship they’d had, the respect between them. “I always envied you that.”

“It’s been tough these past few months. I really miss him.” He closed the canvas bag, shifting his gaze, changing the subject. “Why don’t you come in and see the cabin? Then we can go for a ride and eat all the wonderful food you brought.”

She followed him into the house, with Chocolate nipping at her heels. The other dogs remained outside.

The cabin consisted of one large room, a simple kitchen and a closet-size bathroom. Animal pelts and hunting trophies lined the walls. A leather couch that she assumed was a sofa bed sat adjacent to a stone fireplace, and braided area rugs padded portions of the wood floor. In the corner, a small oak table accommodated two rustic chairs.

“None of this stuff is mine,” Ethan said. “My belongings are in storage. I’m waiting for escrow to close on the gentleman’s ranch I bought.”

“Gentleman’s ranch?”

“A property with less than a hundred acres,” he explained. “Where the owner makes his living at something other than ranching.”

“Did you sell your dad’s house after he died?”

Ethan nodded. “He’d already signed the deed over to me. But I just couldn’t live there anymore. Too many memories. I figured this was a good time to start over. But the escrow dates didn’t mesh, so that’s why I’m in between homes, renting this place from Ryan.”

“I live in a condo near the wharf,” she offered.

He searched her gaze. “Do you like San Francisco?”

As a montage of overworked days and exhausted nights spun through her mind, she contemplated her answer. “I fit in there.”

He pushed his hat back a little, revealing the expression in his eyes. An emotion she couldn’t quite name.

“You’re a city girl,” he said.

“I’m dressed like a country girl today. Wranglers instead of designer jeans.”

Her comment made him smile, but only for a moment. His intensity remained. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she let the silence engulf them. Ethan had been a complicated boy, and he’d grown into a complex man. But she expected as much.

“Should we saddle the horses?” she finally asked.

“Sure.” He was still holding the food she’d prepared. “Country boys like me need to get out on the open range.”

“Sounds okay to me,” she teased. “I’ve always had a thing for you cowboy types.”

“I know.” He angled his head to look at her, to roam his gaze over her body. “Opposites attract. It’s a trick of nature. What gets us in trouble.”

Heat spiraled through her veins, making her sexually aware, reminding her of how long it had been since she’d had a lover, a man who meant something to her. But even so, Susan knew better. “We’re not in trouble.”

“Yes, we are,” he said, as he took her hand and led her outside, making her pulse pound all over again.

Three

“Just because we’re attracted to each other doesn’t mean something is going to happen,” Susan said.

Ethan eyed his companion. They stood beside the hitching post, the sun glaring above their heads, raining warmth down their backs. Whom was she trying to convince? Him or herself? “If you say so.”

“I do.” She struggled with the girth. “Nothing happened when we were kids and nothing is going to happen now.”

He took over, nudging her aside, realizing she didn’t remember how to saddle a horse. “Nothing happened because I didn’t let it.”

“And I’m not going to let it happen this time,” she said.

He shrugged, told himself it didn’t matter. “I’m okay with just being friends.”

“So am I.” She turned to look at him, to ease the tension, to create a casual vibe.

But it didn’t work. Not for Ethan. He wanted to touch her, to smooth her hair away from her cheek, to brush his mouth across hers.

Friendship had its drawbacks, he thought.

He finished saddling their horses, then packed their picnic supplies.

“What’s my mare’s name?” she asked.

“Serene.”

“That’s a calm name.”

“She’s a calm horse. But she’s lazy, too.” He patted the old Appaloosa’s neck. “Of course, she plods along just fine on trail. She’ll follow Sequoia anywhere.”

“Sequoia.” Susan studied his gelding. “That fits him. He’s nearly as big as a redwood tree. The same color, too.” She leaned against the hitching post. “We have lots of redwoods in California.”

“I’ve never been there.” He wouldn’t mind taking a trip to the Sequoia National Forest, but that was as far as his interest in California went. He couldn’t imagine himself in Susan’s neck of the woods, traipsing around San Francisco like a misplaced cowboy.

She moved closer to Serene, letting the horse get to know her. Ethan watched her fuss with the mare’s mane, combing her fingers through it. Serene seemed pleased, but he figured the Appaloosa recognized a sucker when she saw one. Susan was babying her as if she were a child.

He squinted beneath the brim of his hat. “You’re spoiling her.”

“She’s already spoiled.”

“She came that way.”

Susan stroked Serene’s nose. “Oh, that’s right. You inherited her from one of your clients.” She bumped his shoulder, teasing him. “And now you’re stuck with her.”

“She needed a home. And Sequoia bonded with her.” He bumped Susan’s shoulder right back. “Do you need a boost up?”

“I can handle it.” She grabbed the horn and hoisted herself onto the mare’s back, the saddle creaking beneath her butt.

Ethan adjusted her stirrups. “How’s that?”

“Good.” She pushed her heels down. “I’m glad you invited me on a date. It’s nice to spend some time with you.”

“I think so, too.” He liked the changes in her, but he liked remembering her as she’d been, too. The girl he’d wanted to protect. The girl who’d needed someone to care.

Ready to hit the trail, he mounted his horse, wishing she’d give him a chance. He didn’t understand what harm would come from a romantic interlude, from a man and woman, two consenting adults, exploring the chemistry that had always been between them.

Chocolate wagged his tail and barked.

“You’re not coming with us,” Ethan told him.

The dog barked again, only louder this time. Then he whined and looked at Susan.

“Why can’t he come?” she asked.

“Because he’s a pest.”

“I don’t mind.”

“So you say. Just wait.”

“We can’t leave him here. Not like that.” By now, the Lab was practically pleading, howling like the con artist he was.

Most veterinarians owned animals that behaved. But not Ethan. He adopted every stubborn creature that came his way. “He’s going to try to mooch off our plates.”

“I’ll fix him his own plate.”

“That won’t pacify him, but I’m game if you are.” He started down the trail. Susan took the spot next to him, with Chocolate padding confidently beside her.

They rode on a sun-dappled path, their horses moving at a relaxed pace. The sky was the color of a robin’s egg, and the ground offered shades of brown and green. Most of the area was flat and clear, but in the distance, live oaks dotted the terrain like Texas-bred sentries. Farther out, a grouping of hills made a regal statement. Ethan loved this land. To him, it represented God’s country, a place where the world stopped to sigh.

Rabbits darted past, making Chocolate perk his ears. But the dog didn’t leave Susan’s side.

They headed for the live oaks, where they decided to have their picnic.

The path they traveled narrowed, so Susan fell into step behind Ethan. He could hear Serene’s footsteps as she picked her way through the brush.

Once they reached the oaks, the trail opened onto a grassy slope. “How’s this?” Ethan asked, stopping beneath an enormous tree, where branches reached across the sky.

“It’s perfect.”

After they dismounted, he tended to the horses and she spread a blanket on the ground, smoothing it over the bumpy surface.

Chocolate danced in canine delight, sniffing the air in anticipation, waiting for the foodfest to begin.

Susan looked up at Ethan. “Did you raise him from a pup?”

He glanced at the dog and the silly beast had the gall to grin. “No. I’ve only had him about six months. He was homeless and hanging out behind Red, the Mexican restaurant in town, begging for burritos and what-not. The owner felt bad for him, but he was making a nuisance of himself, barking at the back door all the time. My girlfriend, Amber, was a waitress there, so she brought him to me.”

She patted the pooch’s head. “And you had no choice but to keep him?”

“Amber wanted him, but Chocolate was too rambunctious around her son.”

She unpacked their lunch. “Your old girlfriend has a child?”

He nodded. “A two-year-old. Truthfully, I miss her little boy more than her. But she reunited with his father, so they’re trying to make a stable home for him.” He stretched his legs and saw how frayed his jeans were. Susan’s, he noticed, were brand spanking new. “It’s what she wanted all along. I was her rebound, but I knew that from the beginning.”

“No love lost on your part?”

“No. How about you?”

“I’ve been in two serious relationships, but my career got in the way both times.” Her voice turned analytical. “I have a difficult time balancing my work and my love life.”

Ethan thought about his mom, then quickly brushed her aside. He didn’t want Susan to know that his mother had chosen her career over her family. Or that his dad had never gotten over her. “I’d like to have a wife and kids someday, but I don’t let it consume me. I’m used to being single.”

“Me, too. But it gets lonely sometimes.”

“Yeah, but it’s better than a crappy marriage.”

“Amen to that.” She fed the dog first, a lunch that he gobbled up in record time, nudging her for more. She obliged, then gave him an apple to play with while she and Ethan filled their paper plates with chicken, fruit and potato salad, keeping the cookies packed and out of Chocolate’s reach.

All too soon, the dog got bored with the apple and begged off Susan’s plate, just like Ethan knew he would. He’d been trying to break Chocolate of that habit, but he didn’t have the heart to scold him. The mutt had forged a cozy spot for himself, resting his head in her lap.

“You’re a bottomless pit.” She fed Chocolate more chicken, and he licked his chops.

“I can hardly blame him,” Ethan said. “This is good.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, making him envy the dog.

She looked pretty in the afternoon light, with her honey-colored hair and green eyes. Chic and sophisticated, even in jeans and boots and her lipstick wearing off.

He glanced at her mouth and wondered if she would let him kiss her when their date ended. Or would that be crossing the friendship line?

“Our timing is off,” he heard himself say.

“Why? Because I don’t sleep around anymore?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He removed bottled water from the saddlebag and took a swig. “I’m impressed with the way you grew up, but I miss you having a crush on me.”

She set her half-empty plate on the blanket. Chocolate was no longer interested in her food. He’d fallen asleep in her lap. “It wasn’t a healthy crush. Nothing I did then was healthy.”

Ethan drank more water, but he wasn’t able to cool his heels. “So now you’re tempering your feelings for me?”

“I can’t go back in time. I can’t become the old Susan, the girl who acted out her pain.”

He longed to touch her, to glide his fingers along her jaw, to comfort the girl she used to be. “I don’t want to go back in time, either. Can’t we separate the past from the present? Start over somehow?”

“I don’t know. Can we? I’ll bet you haven’t forgotten any of those rumors. I’ll bet they’re still occupying your mind.”

“Can you blame me?” He looked up and saw a hawk dive from a tree branch and sail into the air, like a red-tipped angel taking flight. “You were so sweet, so vulnerable, but you were wild, too. It drove me crazy.”

“I was trying to fill the void inside me. The emptiness that wouldn’t go away.”

“I knew you were mixed-up, and I wanted to make everything better. But I didn’t know how.”

She released a deep, emotional breath, stirring the dog, making him open his eyes for a second. “It wasn’t your job to fix me.”

Maybe not, but he was paying the price now. She’d fixed herself, and he was left with nothing but his memories. “I wanted to pound the crap out of every boy who touched you,” he said. “But there were too many names being bandied around. I never knew what to believe.”

“I didn’t have as many lovers as everyone said. The rumors got blown out of proportion.”

“I was so damn jealous, especially when I heard that you were helping some of those guys lose their virginity.”

A mild breeze rustled the leaves above their heads, intensifying the moment. He couldn’t help it. He was still jealous, still primed for a war party. But he knew she wasn’t going to name names.