Page 48 of Ride Me Cowboy (Coyote Creek Ranch #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Cole

B Y THE TIME I reach Beth, she’s bent over at the waist, vomiting onto the ground, so all I can do is stand behind her and put my hand on her back, gently stroking until she’s done.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and then straightens.

I take one look at her face before wrapping her up in a big hug, holding her tight for a good few seconds then lifting her and cradling her against my chest, carrying her into the house.

In the kitchen, I sit her on the edge of the bench, before grabbing a towel. I dampen the corners and wipe her face, which is pale and clammy, then pull a soda from the fridge and crack the top off it.

Her lips move, and I think I hear the word ‘thanks’ breathe out, but she’s obviously in shock.

I just want to tell her that everything’s okay, that she’s safe here.

I want to tell her that she’ll always be safe here, but everything I believe about concepts like always and forever holds me back.

I can’t offer her something I don’t really want to give, just because I feel sorry for her. Just because I like her a whole lot.

That’s not the solution.

I stand between her legs, my hands on her knees, but when she just stares past my shoulder, I take the soda and bring it to her lips. “Drink, honey. You need sugar.”

She takes a few sips, then pulls her head back, so I place the soda down and cup her cheeks. “You told her?”

She nods.

“And she didn’t believe you?”

She shakes her head.

“That’s not surprising.”

“Damn it, Cole. You were the one who said I should tell her. I shouldn’t have let you get in my head.”

I ignore the anger in her voice. She’s scared and emotional; she’s lashing out at me. Ultimately, this was Beth’s choice, and I think she made the decision based on what she needed to do, in that moment. What she needed to do, in order to find real freedom from him.

“You were never going to be able to live your own life, without them knowing,” I say, gently.

“You would always have had to turn up to events with them, to be the perfect daughter-in-law, to remember him fondly, to join in their reminiscing, to feel like you were playing a part, every day for the rest of your life. I know it hurts like hell right now, but this is another step you’re taking toward getting away from all that. ”

She bites into her lower lip, eyes haunted when they latch to mine.

I can tell how torn up she is, how scrambled her emotions, so I need to offer her steadiness and support.

“I don’t think you’d ever have been able to go back to New York, knowing that they still believed you had a perfect marriage.”

“She was devastated.”

“That’s not your fault.”

She looks dubious.

“You are the victim here, but not the only victim. Christopher hurt all of you by acting how he did, by doing what he did.”

She sniffs. Jesus, she’s shaking all over.

I drop my hands to her hips. “Beth, darlin’, you did the right thing.

She might never believe you, but at least she won’t expect you to be someone you’re not.

You did what you needed, and I’m so proud of you.

Now, when you go home, you won’t have to worry about play-acting anymore. You can just be yourself.”

Beth

By ‘home’, he means New York.

He’s talking about a time when I leave Coyote Creek Ranch, and he’s doing it so damn calmly, like it’s a fait accompli . Which, I guess it is. I mean, that’s what we’ve been saying all along, right? That I’m here for three months, that this is temporary, that we both need to know that.

But the way he keeps talking about me leaving here and going back to New York, like I’ve just thrown open the gates to some magical, mystical, wonderful future in Manhattan, away from him, as though it’s no big deal, and everything’s totally cool about that, makes me furious.

A thousand emotions are zipping through me, but I latch onto anger because it makes me feel strong, and I need that. “Yeah, well, it didn’t feel like the right thing.”

“Sometimes, it doesn’t,” he admits, voice raw.

“Oh, what would you know?” I snap. “You have no idea what this has been like for me.”

I press a hand to my chest, wondering if I can stop the words from escaping me this time, because I don’t really want to hurt Cole, just because I’m hurting.

“I know how hard it’s been,” he says, gently, as if I’m one of those horses he’s so good at sweet talking.

“You came out here to recover, to start feeling more like yourself, and what you did today is a sign you’re doing that.

You stood up for yourself. You were honest, you stopped letting Christopher control you from beyond the grave.

Honey, you’re going to wake up tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and this is going to hurt less and less.

This is all a step toward a new future for you. ”

“A future in New York?” I ask, quietly, aware how desperately I want him to dispute that.

“That’s your home,” he says instead, and even plunges the knife in further with a small smile.

It’s at that moment I get it: he’s wrong. New York’s not home. This is.

At least, it’s the closest thing I’ve ever known to a home. I guess I’ve felt that for a while, this sense of rightness and contentment, but it was telling Elsie just now that really made me understand.

I didn’t tell her solely to free myself from the visage of Christopher, from the part I have to play in New York. I told her because with the truth out in the open, there’s no longer an excuse not to be with Cole. To be with him properly.

To admit to myself, to him, to anyone else, that I’ve fallen in love with him.

I stare at this huge, rugged cowboy, my cowboy, with the sound of fireworks popping in my ears and lights flashing before my eyes. I never knew cataclysmic realizations could be so loud.

“I don’t think so,” I say, slowly, frowning, as I try to find my way through this. I want to know what he’s feeling, what he wants, but my own emotions are too damn loud to get a sense for his.

“What do you mean?”

“When I came out here, it was because I was running away. I needed a break. Honestly? I needed to escape. I was suffocating under the weight of it all. But it was only meant to be temporary—that’s what I liked about this job, you know?

Then, I met you, and everyone else out here, and whatever else I’d been, in New York, I just…

stopped being. I’m not that girl, anymore, Cole.

” I suck in a deep breath, aware I’m teetering on the brink of something monumental, but it feels right . “I don’t think I want to go back.”

There. I’ve said it. Now, I just have to wait…

He looks at me for a long, slow moment and then nods, so my heart soars. “Okay. Well, where will you go?”

My heart cracks and my expression must reflect it because I see the way comprehension dawns across his face. It’s quickly followed by something like panic. “You’re talking about staying here, on the ranch?”

I shake my head, but my eyes sting with tears, and all I can do is drop my head forward into my hands. At least then I don’t have to look at him.

“Stop,” he says, but gently, catching my hands and peeling them off my face, which I keep bent protectively downwards, shielding myself from him.

“Honey, you’re so mixed up right now, you don’t know which way is up.

You don’t want to stay out here. This is a nice place to escape to, but it’s not for you, City Girl. We both know that’s the truth.”

“You think I don’t belong?”

He looks toward the kitchen window, so I wonder if it’s him shielding himself now. “I think you won’t be happy. You’d still be running away. That’s no way to live a life.”

“I’m not running anymore. I told Elsie.”

“But you’re still trying to avoid your real life.”

“Or, what if I just realized that you’re more my real life than anything I have back there?

What if I realized that the place I ran away to, thinking it would just be somewhere safe to lick my wounds, actually turned out to be the missing piece of me?

” I press my hand to his chest, going all in.

“What if I realized that you’re the missing piece of me? ”

The air crackles with the weight of my question and I hold my breath, suspended between hope and I don’t know what else, but nothing good.

“Do you remember when you told me about him, and I tried to stop this from happening?” The question is slow, drawn out of him like it’s the last thing he wants to say.

“I never wanted to take advantage of you, after everything you’ve been through, and this is why.

The last thing I wanted was for you to misread what we’re doing. ”

Misread?

The world is slipping. I curl my hands around the edge of the bench, gripping it tight.

“You’ve been through too much to see clearly, Beth. You’re clinging to me because you think it’ll make you happy, but I’m just some guy you’ve rebounded to. And I…you know I’ll never settle down like you’re asking me to.”

My jaw drops before I can quickly snap my lips together and try not to look like he’s actually slapped me or something.

The shock though is real, and raw.

“You think that’s what this is?”

“I think the fact this is temporary is why it has been great.” He grimaces, like he knows using the past tense is a low blow.

“Wow.”

“You are so special.” His voice is deep and graveled; the truth of his statement, the depth of his sincerity, lands deep in my heart. “But we’ve always known this thing had a limit. It’s part of what makes it so easy, baby.”

I frown, trying to remember everything we’ve said, the way we’ve framed it as temporary, always coming back to the fact I’m leaving for New York.

He’s right. I’ve done that every bit as much as he has.

It’s been a talisman to both of us, a promise of non-commitment, which conversely freed us up to fall in love. Or at least, that’s what it did for me.