Page 33 of Rainwater

He sat on his bike for another five minutes, letting the solitude of the immense ranch wash over him. God, it felt so good to be here. After he’d dropped Ellie off at school and let all her friends ooh and aah over his bike, he had kept riding. Almost tried to reach the horizon.

But he remembered Jennifer’s face when he’d left, remembered Ellie’s quick hug and kiss before she’d bounded off to school, and he knew he couldn’t leave them that way, without a word, so he’d turned around.

He looked up at the house, up at her room.

A light burned in the window and he could see her silhouette.

He dropped his head back, the emotion clogging his throat so full, he thought he might finally break down.

But the tears seemed stuck in the back of his throat.

The horror washed through him again. He’d hit her, hurt her.

Something he swore he would never do. His stomach tightened until he felt as if he was going to be sick again.

He swung off the bike, went to the cottage and got the key to the house. He made his way silently through the darkened house, feeling detached, as if he had lost his right to be here, yet she pulled and tugged at him like a magnet, and he couldn’t stay away from her.

She didn’t understand. He saw that in her eyes, before he had acted like a bastard and run off like a scared rabbit.

She didn’t understand how that little slip of his elbow could hurt him so much.

Hurt him deep inside where he kept all the pain from his childhood.

All his failures, his powerlessness. Jennifer had no idea how many times his father had broken his mother’s nose and Corey had to watch.

He pushed open the door to her bedroom and stepped in. She sat on the window seat. He knew from being around her that it was a haven, a source of comfort. She went there when she was upset or needed to sort out her thoughts.

His throat cramped up again and he bit his lower lip. God, but she was beautiful in the moonlight, the pale light catching the fiery glints in her hair, turning her skin into cream, her slightly parted lips a flush of gleaming coral.

He stepped closer, stopping abruptly when he saw what she was wearing.

He closed his eyes, his chest so full of raw emotion that he didn’t’ know how his body could contain it.

She was wearing his blue chamois shirt. The first one she’d seen him in.

She must have gone all the way down to the cottage to get it after he’d left.

Tenderness wrapped warm, soft hands around his heart. His pulse beat slow and thick and he wanted to gather her close and never let her go.

He moved closer to the window, reaching out with a trembling had to touch her soft hair. She stirred and her eyes opened and, quick as a wink, she was off the window seat, throwing her arms around his neck.

“That hold would rival a wrestler’s.” He tried to keep his voice light, but it cracked under the emotional strain.

“Corey. Oh, God, I didn’t think you were coming back. What did I do? Please tell me.” Her voice broke on a sob and she clutched him tighter.

“Nothing, Jen darlin’. You did nothing. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was angry at myself for hurting you.”

“But I want—”

“Shh, darlin’, shh. I just need to hold you.”

“I want to understand. I want so desperately to understand. You look okay on the outside, Corey. But you’re bruised and battered inside, aren’t you? Do you think I’m too fragile to hear what you have to say?”

“Not now, darlin’.” He sidestepped the issue, stayed in the safety of silence. “I owe you an apology.”

She raised her face without releasing her hold on him. “It was an accident. You can’t even tell I was hit. A little nosebleed.”

He kissed her nose then her lids as they fluttered closed. He tried to move and she clung.

“Please don’t leave me tonight. Please, Corey. I want you to stay with me all night. There aren’t very many left, are there?”

“No.” He buried his face in her neck, his voice ragged and tormented. “Jennifer, wild horses couldn’t drag me from this room.”

She muscled him around, hooked one leg around his and with part of his support gone, she pushed on his chest and he tumbled onto the bed.

“The Worldwide Wrestling Federation would probably sign you up in no time, Jen. You’ve taken me down to the mat, now what are you going to do with me?”

“Take you out for the count, outlaw. I’ve got you just where I want you.”

“How’s that?”

“Flat on your back.”

“Jennifer Horn! You’re a mother.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

His eyes roamed over her face then down her body intimately hugging his. “That’s quite a fashion statement you’re making there. Am I going to have to buy new shirts?”

“No. Just one. You can’t have this one back.”

“I think it looks better on you than me, anyway, darlin’.” He sat up and pushed his hands through his hair. Jennifer settled behind him and picked up the brush on the nightstand.

“Your hair is all windblown. Let me brush out the tangles,” she said softly, urging him to lean against her. Very gently, she pulled the bristles through his hair and with every stroke, he could smell the scent of her clinging to the brush.

“Your life hasn’t always been an easy one,” she said. “How long have you been on the road?”

“Not that long.”

“All those gold buckles. The ones in your saddlebags. You were a champion. It looks to me like you were making a pretty good living on the circuit.”

“I was.”

“Is all your money really gone?”

“No. I have a lot of investments and a huge house in Austin.”

“Then why…?”

That money and house belonged to someone else, someone he didn’t know and couldn’t remember. It didn’t seem right to use that money. “I don’t want to touch that money, Jennifer. It belongs to someone else. That person I used to be. It’s hard to explain. I need to do this…what I’ve been doing.”

“Running?”

He sat up abruptly, his nostrils flaring, her question hitting very well on the target.

He had been running from his failure, from his fears, from himself, and he just couldn’t see how to stop.

How to gather all the pieces that were missing.

“Have you ever felt as if you’re on the outside looking in? ”

Her hands continued to caress him. With her face against his back, she said, “No.” She turned him around, her voice soft and filled with knowing clarity.

“That’s how I’ve always felt.”

Jennifer didn’t say anything, just pressed her face against his chest and then very slowly began to unbutton his shirt.

He let his passion for her take over and it unleashed like a snapping whip. What little control he had slipped away like sand through his fingers, slipped away like the days he had left with her. Jennifer. As elusive as the horizon.