That Last Night In Texas

Her head rolled back and forth. “No…no…” With obvious effort, she looked him directly in the eyes. Every breath seemed to be a struggle. “We’re too…too different. We have to accept…you’ll never…fit in my world…and I don’t…don’t want yours.” She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. “I mean it. I don’t want…to see you anymore.”

“Cass—”

“Please…” she moaned. Tears leaked out from under her lids and slid down each side of her face. “Please…go away! It’s…over.”

Stunned, Ethan just stared at her, not knowing what to do. This couldn’t be happening. She was afraid. Confused. Drugged out of her mind. Or maybe her father had gotten to her. Whatever the truth was, he wouldn’t argue with her now. She was too weak and in pain.

A nurse entered and came up beside him. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

Numbly, he left the room.

His mouth was dry with panic. The grimmest sense of hopelessness overtook him. Could Cassie really mean what she’d said?

He could understand why she would hate him. What he had done was unforgivable. But did she really think he wasn’t good enough for her?

Back in the waiting room, he simply folded up and landed in one of the chairs because his knees were shaking so badly. He hunched forward, his arm throbbing all the way to his shoulder.

His vision grew hazy, and a sudden thickness lodged in his throat. He hadn’t cried since the day they’d buried his mother, and he’d sworn never to break down again, but he couldn’t seem to help it now. He felt as if he were imploding, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Someone dropped into the chair beside him. It was Josh Wheeler.

“Man, what a night,” the man said with an exhausted-sounding sigh. He frowned at Ethan. “You okay?”

Ethan wiped his hand over his face, trying to compose himself. “No.”

“McGuire’s following Cassandra up to surgery, then camping out in the waiting room until it’s over. My advice is not to be around him right now. Not unless you want to go for round two with the guy and maybe end up in jail.”

Ethan barely registered those words. He stared straight ahead, thinking.

“Listen, if I were you, I’d get out of here. Mac’s talking about having you arrested. Reckless endangerment, and whatever else they’ll let him come up with. He’s damned mad, Ethan. What the hell were you thinking, putting the moves on the boss’s daughter?”

“I was thinking that I loved her. I was thinking I was good enough…” He left the rest unfinished because his voice had dried up, died, in the back of his throat.

Josh shook his head. “I’m sorry. Let’s just pray that she pulls through.” He stood. “I’m heading upstairs.” Giving him the once-over, Josh added, “You had anybody take a look at you yet?”

“No.”

He swore under his breath. “What do they expect you to do, set your own arm? I’ll stop at the desk and demand some help. In spite of you being a complete lunkhead, I suppose you’re still worth saving.”

Ethan watched Josh walk away. The waiting room was more crowded now, filled with the fallout from another wild Saturday night. He didn’t know how long he sat there, feeling as if he was in a corner from which he could not escape. His mind was just one terrible blank, except for that same litany that went round and round in his head and wouldn’t let go.

Was he worth saving? Was he worth anything at all?

For years he had tried to distance himself from his upbringing. He’d left home at eighteen, scared but determined to make a better life. In the past three years he’d started to feel the difference—the respect and confidence his expertise with horses had brought him. The sense that one day he could actually be someone.

But here, right now, he was still a nobody who had come from nothing. If they married, what kind of life could he give Cassie? Her father would probably disown her. There was no way McGuire would accept him as a son-in-law now and welcome him back on the Flying M. Take him under his wing.

Ethan had plans for the future and a little money saved. But not much. No home. No car. They’d be like gypsies, going from place to place. It would be a disaster. Cassie was right. That kind of helter-skelter life was too different from what she was used to. He wouldn’t be marrying her, he’d be sentencing her.

It couldn’t work between them, and no matter how much it hurt his pride and stung to hear it, he knew it was true. And in that moment he knew what he had to do.

His blood pumped through his veins like wildfire, but he managed to stand. Though his legs threatened to buckle, somehow he put one foot in front of the other and made his way toward the sliding double doors that led out of the hospital.

Outside it was raining, hard, and in spite of the street-lights and neon entrance sign, the darkness seemed so black it had no dimension. Although he had no idea yet just where he was going, Ethan lowered his head against the pelting downpour and hurried along the sidewalk.

His teeth clenched in despair as the blood ran in rivulets under his jacket and down his hand. It splashed onto the pavement, a bright, ruby-red pattern that was washed away in moments.

CHAPTER THREE

Thirteen years later

“WELL? WHAT DO YA THINK?” Meredith Summerlin asked. “Isn’t it as pretty as a Texas bluebonnet?”

Ethan looked at the Realtor he’d hired over the phone last week. She was sharp and ambitious, but she obviously saw herself as Annie Oakley reincarnated.

A passably attractive blonde with model-white teeth and a perky smile, the woman dressed as though she’d just come off a Western movie set. Fringed jacket, cow-girl hat and boots. Buxom as an overstuffed turkey. Only the fact that she carried a clipboard instead of a six-shooter killed the fantasy.

They had walked some of the property, and now they leaned against Meredith’s SUV in the pleasant April sunshine. The broad field in front of them could have been the middle of nowhere, but the Texas land was just what Ethan wanted—gently rolling meadows of grass, an occasional stand of oak trees for shade, and easy frontage to the highway that led back to Beaumont.

“I like it,” he agreed, and Meredith’s smile got wider as she envisioned a potential sale.

“So you think it would work for what you have in mind?” she asked, inspecting him like a cop.

“Possibly.”

Actually, it was perfect for what he had in mind, something he had known from the moment Meredith had told him yesterday that the property was on the market. After all, thirteen years ago he’d ridden this ground dozens of times.

It was part of the Flying M Ranch.

Meredith retrieved two bottles of water from a cooler in the backseat of her car and passed one to Ethan. “If you don’t mind my asking, what use would you make of it?” She squinted down at his business card, caught by its corner on her clipboard. “What exactly is Horse Sense? You break horses?”

She sounded skeptical, and he wasn’t surprised. Dressed in an expensive suit, and a silk shirt, and without the requisite Texas Stetson and boots, he didn’t look like a wrangler. Knowing that he was coming back here after all these years, he hadn’t intended to.

“Not anymore,” Ethan admitted, taking a sip of the cold water. “Until recently, I’ve taught difficult horses and their owners to overcome their fears. A spooked horse is a danger to everyone around it, and I offer a behavioral clinic that builds confidence in the rider and acclimates the animal to the triggers that make it want to buck or rear.”

“So you’re looking to branch out?”

“In a way,” Ethan said. “I’ll need about two hundred acres.”

He surveyed the land that would become a big part of his future—whether a failure or a success. Two months ago he’d contracted with the Mounted Police Association to develop a program exclusively for them. Instead of a weekend course, it would be a six-week one. Complete with obstacle courses, barns to stable the mounts and a few simple log cabins the men could share.

Meredith glanced at her MLS sheet on the property. “Just about the right size, I’d say. And it’s been on the market for a few months.”

“As I mentioned to you on the phone, I’d like to put this sale on the fast track. Financing is already lined up. It will be a cash deal.”

The woman looked practically giddy with excitement. “Wonderful! Financing and the land survey are really the only holdup these days, and the property was surveyed last year. The title company should have no problem with providing a clean deed. I’d say this can be a done deal in less than two weeks.”

“Perfect. That would leave me almost two months to have the place up and running by the middle of June.”