Page 28 of Rainwater

Chapter

Ten

T he days passed and Corey kept a polite distance, but he watched her with his devastating hot eyes.

She watched him, too, while he trained the mare, taking time after a long hard day to work with both Ellie and the horse.

He was so patient, so kind. There were days when Corey and Ellie would have tickling contests that Jennifer could hear from the house.

And she watched each day as Ellie fell more in love with him and she ached for him and her daughter.

It was obvious that he enjoyed Ellie’s company.

She’d find them on the cottage porch hunched over while Corey explained the intricacies of drawing and painting.

The sheer stunning power with which he rode a horse and muscled bulls was magnificent, but this gentle, warm teaching was seductive in the way he glowed.

There were times when she had to look away from them, finding herself wishing that this was real.

Wishing that at night, he would join them at the dinner table and he and Ellie would banter like father and daughter.

She had dreamed that he would help her clear the table as he teased her.

Then when all the chores were done and the lights were out, she could snuggle up in his sleek warmth and sleep with him until dawn.

On that big gray horse, he looked every inch the outlaw, but when he was instructing Ellie, the outlaw dissolved into an approachable, gentle, truly special man. But this special man would go soon, leave their lives.

Torn between keeping her daughter from experiencing the pain of his departure and the joy of knowing what it was like to have a father, she simply watched and agonized.

Three weeks after he first started training the mare, Ellie was on the mare’s back racing around the barrels as if they were made for each other.

Jennifer would stand at the window each day and watch.

She could see Ellie bloom from Corey’s praise and watched her work harder for him and for herself.

With each passing day, she watched a championship team emerge, as Ellie either won or placed in competitions she entered.

Jennifer missed Corey terribly. The scent of him, the feel of his arms around her.

She wanted to hold him, wanted to kick some sense into him.

His eyes were so dark, still so full of pain and fear.

She wished for the right words to touch all those bruised and battered places in him so that he wouldn’t feel he had to suffer with his secret alone.

But she didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

She had no idea how long he’d been living in the shadow of silence.

She kept her distance because the need in both of them was too volatile, a constant, unrelenting ache, and even though she hadn’t said the words to him, she’d promised with body language that she wouldn’t make him compromise himself no matter how much she wanted him.

She’d found other canvases, broken, ripped and demolished. Her heart ached with the discovery of each one, because she believed that he was truly trying to work out something very personal and important, yet he was failing, torturing himself over and over again.

And painfully, she didn’t know what to do or how to approach him. She felt so helpless, wanting to protect him and understand.

She knew he felt trapped and she didn’t like that hunted look in his eyes.

So finally, she got in her truck and drove downtown to talk to Gus Waverly.

She begged him to try to fix Corey’s motorcycle.

She knew that Corey might just get on it and never come back, but she decided that was all right.

She didn’t want him trapped. She wanted him free to go if he wanted to.

It hurt just to think about a day without him, let alone the rest of her life.

This day wasn’t any different from other days.

She stood at her window, watching Corey entertain Ellie with rope tricks.

She heard her daughter’s clear bubbling laughter when he swung the whirling rope around and jumped through it, his dark silky hair jumping around his shoulders, the genuine flash of his grin intoxicating.

When she heard the heavy-stock truck come up the driveway, she noticed the way he immediately put down the rope, transforming into that steely-eyed man who her ranch hands quietly respected.

She saw him rub his hip absently as he watched the truck maneuver into place.

He took the reins of the big gray horse and vaulted into the saddle.

She would never get enough of watching him move—all sleek muscle and sinew over a breathtaking body, a warm, caring heart inside.

Suddenly she hurt more intensely than she could ever remember.

She glanced away from the window and picked up a book from the window ledge, the one she’d been reading before she’d heard Ellie’s laughter. She brushed her hand over the title and sighed, tears coming to her eyes. Adult Children of Abusive Parents: The Long Journey Back.

While she had been in town to plead with Gus, she’d gone to the library, meager as it was, but was unable to find the book she needed.

Desperate to understand, desperate to make him understand that it meant a great deal to her what he had gone through, she’d contacted a friend in Houston who had purchased the book and sent it to her.

Jennifer had spent evening after evening going through each word.

She now thought she knew what had replaced the absent love and security in Corey’s life. The rodeo.

She swallowed the tears and once again looked out the window. Corey was rounding up the stock she had sold. She watched him herd the bulls competently, but she saw the tension in his body, the stiff way he held himself. The need to flee was written all over him.

Heartsick and hurting for the small boy he had been, Jennifer gritted her teeth, her vision blurring again. She reached up and wiped away the tears.

When he had been gored, when he had lost his pride and livelihood, he had once again lost his base, the foundation from which he dictated his life.

God, no wonder he was running. Floundering in confusion and chaos, everything must have crumbled for him.

He’d had to deal with the fear of the bulls and the guilt of his family’s deaths.

No wonder he’d wanted to get away from her and Ellie.

And with a chill, she knew that she was tempting fate by bringing that motorcycle back within his reach. At the first sign of how much she needed him, she knew instinctively that he would run.

She put the book in the chest under the window, hiding it under some colorful Navajo blankets.

She decided to play it by ear for now. No confrontations about his abuse.

He would have to be the one to tell her and until he did, she wouldn’t push for a physical relationship unless he approached her.

His silence bound her as tightly as it did him.

When she stepped onto the porch, she saw they had finished loading the truck.

Ellie was playing fetch with Two Tone, one of his favorite games.

She smiled at the way the little thing trotted after the stick Ellie threw him.

With love filling her up, she looked at her daughter and was so thankful for her.

Ellie, in her innocent way, was teaching Corey as sure as he was teaching her.

Her gaze moved from her vivacious daughter to seek out the man who had become as important to her as breathing.

He was pulling down the handle of the truck to lock the stock inside for transport.

She saw him lean his head against the doors, breathing heavily.

He rubbed his hip again with anger and agitation, his posture rigid.

Jennifer hurt all the way down to her soul. God, how hard this must be for him.

He turned and slid down and sat on the bumper, his hands shaking as he folded them together to stem the tremors.

After a few minutes, he finally got up and headed for the cottage. When he reached the porch, he leaned against the pole, still breathing hard, his eyes closed, fists clenched.

She stepped down off the porch with every intention of soothing him.

Corey was just getting his breathing under control when he heard the tread on his steps.

His eyes flashed open and Jennifer filled his vision.

He swallowed hard, thinking about dreams coming to life.

He had avoided her so much these past three weeks that his hands itched to touch her to make sure she was real.

“You’re something else,” she said.

“How’s that?” he asked, hating the way his voice came out hoarse with longing.

She stepped closer to him. “You’re terrified of them, aren’t you? That’s what you meant when you were telling me about Widowmaker. You aren’t terrified of riding them and falling off. You’re terrified of them.”

He ducked his head, a flush staining his face when he heard a small sound escape from her lips.

She took his hat off and threw it on a nearby chair.

Cupping his face in her hands, she made him look at her.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of. Corey, look at me,” she demanded when he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Look at me.” When his eyes shifted to hers, he knew they were full of anguished shame he felt.

She spoke carefully. “You went through a traumatic, life-threatening event. You’d expect some of that fear to linger. There’s nothing wrong with that, Corey.”

In a voice hushed with anxiety, he said, “I hate this fear, Jennifer. It makes me feel powerless.”

“Listen to me, you’re not powerless. Look at what you’ve just done. You loaded those animals. You overcame your fear enough to actually be in the same vicinity.”

He looked deeply into her eyes and smiled. He pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “Thank you, darlin’.”

She pulled away from him and stepped back. “There is something I want to ask you. It’s very important to me.”

“What is it, Jennifer?”

“I promised I would take Ellie to the junior championships next week, but unfortunately, I have to make a trip to Phoenix on business.”

“Can’t you postpone it? Jennifer, this will devastate her. You can’t do this to her. She’s worked so hard. That buckle is practically hers.”

“I know that. I want you to take her. You’ve been so good with her, and you’ve been with us on all the other competitions. Please.”

Her words hit him like a physical blow. He flinched, his eyes widening and he was struck totally speechless. Emotions darted through him—shock, fear, vulnerability and, finally, joy. Hoarsely, he said, “you would trust me with your daughter? Damn it, Jennifer, you don’t know me.”

“I know you, Corey. I know you would die before you harmed a hair on her head or let anyone else harm her. I know that, and for me, that’s enough.”

He twisted away from her and went to sit down in a chair, sinking into it as the strength left his legs.

After a moment, he looked at her. “You trust me?”

“Yes, I trust you. Will you do it for her? For me?” When he didn’t answer right away, she averted her gaze and stammered, “I—I guess I could ask someone else—”

“No! I’ll take her. It would be my pleasure to see her ride and win.” Who was he kidding? he thought. He would be so puffed up with pride that he would most likely explode. She had no idea what a monumental gift she had just given him.

He stood up and went to her. He had resolved not to touch her, but the compulsion was a force beyond his control. Something sweet and wonderful washed through him and that incredible feeling remained, filling up black, empty places, washing away darkness and despair.

His fingers brushed her face and she gasped. “Your trust is a precious gift beyond imagination.”

“Mr. Rainwater? We need you, sir,” a voice interrupted.

“I’m coming.” He never took his eyes off her when he spoke. “When I come back, would it be okay with you if I break my vow?”

For another second, he held her gaze, the shocked pleasure in her eyes twisting his heart, increasing his breathing.

Happiness wasn’t something he took for granted.

He was thankful for every little tidbit that came his way.

He was thankful for Jennifer and her beautiful heart.

Unfortunately, he could see no way to stop from breaking her heart. Or, for that matter, his own.