Page 18 of Take Me Please, Cowboy (The Calhouns & Campbells of Cold Canyon Ranch #1)
He looked away, jaw working. “I’m used to doing the providing. I’m used to taking care of others. I don’t know how to let someone take care of me.”
“Not even your mama?”
He looked at her, his gaze slowly moving over her, the top of her head down the length of her body and then back up again. “My mom has been dealt a bad hand in life. It’s my mission to make things easier, as much as I can.”
“Is that why you live at home?”
“I have my own space on our property. I don’t live in the main house. But before you go thinking I have a cool pad, it’s a trailer. It’s a pretty rough trailer, but it’s mine, and it gives me a little space and helps let me come and go without disturbing the others.”
“Who all lives at home?” she asked carefully, feeling as if she was maybe overstepping. He’d been so private, she suspected that his family wasn’t something he wanted to discuss.
“Everyone.” His lips curved but it was a grim smile, and it didn’t reach his eyes. “My parents, John and Jennifer, my two sisters, Hannah and Josie, and my younger brother Jasper.” He glanced at his watch and set his iced tea glass down. “Speaking of, I should get on the road.”
Ansley nodded and walked Rye outside, to his truck and rig.
For a moment, neither said anything. They just stood next to his Chevy, taking in the twilight. Ansley really didn’t want him to go. She couldn’t bear to say goodbye. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
She sucked up her courage to ask what had been on her mind almost constantly the past twenty-four hours. “Will you be back this way anytime soon?”
Rye reached out to touch her cheek and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “No. My weekends are all in different directions. Oregon next weekend, Idaho, Washington state, Wyoming, South Dakota.”
“That’s just the next five weeks. What then? Won’t the season be wrapping up soon?”
“End of October,” he agreed. “South Dakota is my last for this year.”
“And then?” She’d meant to sound strong, but her voice came out a whisper.
“I’ll be working six days a week in construction, getting those roofs on before the snow comes.”
“And roofs can’t wait.” She forced a smile, if only to hold back the sting of tears wanting to fill her eyes.
His head inclined, the briefest nod. “I hate the circumstances—”
“It’s okay.”
“If things were different—”
“I get it.”
He smiled, but he wasn’t smiling. He couldn’t even look at her, his gaze fixed on a point beyond her shoulder. “It’s not because I’m not into you,” he said lowly. “Believe me.”
And she did.
She couldn’t see him lying to her. What would be the point? What would he achieve by deceiving her? He wasn’t that kind of man.
Salt of the earth.
The words whispered through her, making her long for a different version of this story, one that ended happily.
One where there would be more romance and more slow dancing and more long desperate kisses.
That would be a story she’d tell her children and grandchildren. I met your dad at the Marietta rodeo…
Instead, he’d go to Eureka and become the construction worker, putting on work boots and a hardhat.
“Ansley?” His voice had dropped, the huskiness of it stealing her breath.
“Yes?” She blinked hard and smiled because that was what they were doing now. Being mature. Keeping it together. This would not be a dramatic tortured goodbye.
“I’m probably not going to be very good about staying in touch.” His brown eyes locked with hers. “It’s not personal.”
Oh, she wasn’t going to keep this up much longer, not with the pain building inside of her, the sadness huge and hot.
“I know.” She forced a smile. “And I know if we lived in the same place, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
” She lifted her chin, her smile wider, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.
“Now give me a hug and go. You’ve got a lot of driving to do tonight. ”
His arms wrapped around her in a tight hug that let her feel the things he wouldn’t, couldn’t say.
He was so him—so solid and real and good. She understood his strength, understood that he had to be strong for those who needed him. Fortunately, God had made her strong, too. So, she could take care of herself and not be one more anchor on a man. On Rye.
As he held her tight, she squeezed him back. I love you. The words were silent but that didn’t make them any less real.
She pulled away first, taking a big, and necessary step backward. “Good luck next weekend.” She exhaled, still smiling, still fighting the gritty burn in her eyes and throat. “Where in Oregon?”
“Pendleton,” he said, drawing out his truck key.
“Good luck. Be safe.”
“Always.” Then he was climbing into his truck, starting the engine, and driving away.
She waved as he drove and just before he disappeared from view, his window opened and his arm came out, hand high in a final goodbye.
Goodbye.
Ansley crouched down in the driveway, ducked her head, trying to stop the tears but it didn’t work. The tears wouldn’t stop.
How impossible the last three days had been.
The best weekend of her life had just become one of the worst. And for reasons she didn’t understand, she’d never felt even half this pain when she and Clark broke up. And they’d had three years together, not three days.