Page 32 of Take Me Please, Cowboy (The Calhouns & Campbells of Cold Canyon Ranch #1)

A nsley read and reread Rye’s text, feeling a cold trickle of dread seep down her spine, into her limbs. He’d heard her.

She knew, without knowing anything else, that he’d heard some of her conversation with her mom. Possibly all of it.

Ansley sank onto the gold plaid couch, legs weak, heart racing. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t—

She called Rye again. He declined the call, not even bothering to let her go to voice mail.

He’d blocked her again.

Her eyes stung and she blinked back tears, her phone grasped tightly in her hand. She waited a half hour before trying to call him again, but his phone was off.

It was happening again. He was shutting her out, but this time it was her fault. This time, she’d said things that had to have hurt him terribly. Ansley couldn’t move, couldn’t walk, couldn’t think. Instead, she sat glued to the couch, cold and clammy, feeling as if she’d throw up any second.

Mrs. Calhoun appeared at the trailer door, opening it slightly to peek in. Her gaze met Ansley’s and her expression fell. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“He’s not coming back,” Ansley said faintly.

Rye’s mother shook her head.

Ansley swallowed hard. “I have to talk to him. I have to explain.”

“What happened?”

“He heard me talking to my mom. I said some things…” Her eyes filled with tears, and she struggled to finish her sentence. “I shouldn’t have said.”

“About him?” she asked, coming to sit on the couch next to Ansley.

“About how different everything here was from… my home.”

Mrs. Calhoun’s lips parted and then she pressed them closed. “Rye is pretty protective,” she said, the exact words Josie had said the night of the art show.

“I wasn’t trying to be unkind.”

“No, but honesty can be painful.”

Ansley had nothing to say to this. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so awful before. This was her fault, 100 percent her doing.

“Want me help you pack?” Mrs. Calhoun said, breaking the silence.

Ansley wiped away the tears clinging to her lashes. “He wants me gone.”

His mother nodded.

Ansley packed, and put her bag in her car, but before leaving she went to the main house and said her goodbyes.

It was the proper thing to do. The only thing to do.

There were hugs—a very long hard hug from Rye’s mom—and a fierce hug from Jasper who asked her to come back and visit soon and then she was in her car, fighting the tears while she reversed and then drove away from the house.

Ansley didn’t know where she was going to go. But she knew this—she was not going to go home without speaking to Rye. And even though she felt terrible—beyond terrible—and even though she still wanted to throw up, she was determined that they have a proper conversation, face-to-face.

Instead of leaving Eureka, she checked into a motel, and spent a sleepless night going over everything she wanted to say, while trying to anticipate everything he might say, before dragging herself out of bed for a shower.

It wasn’t going to be an easy day. She dreaded the next couple of hours, but she wasn’t going to just run away. Running away solved nothing.

Ansley grabbed some coffee and a cinnamon roll at the coffee shop next to the motel before driving to Calhoun Roofing’s office. As she expected, Rye’s blue and white Chevy truck was already in the parking lot. She parked next to his truck and entered the office, through the unlocked front door.

The reception was empty but the bell tinkling on the front door drew Rye from the back. He stopped when he saw her.

For a long moment, he said nothing, his jaw granite hard. “I thought you left town,” he said as the silence grew unbearable.

“I’m driving back this morning, but I had to see you before I left.”

“Why? Seems that everything that needed to be said was said yesterday.”

“You and I didn’t talk.”

“No, but I overheard you on the phone. It was more than enough. Your feelings were clear.” He fell silent and looked away, jaw still clenched, expression harsh.

Ansley swallowed around the knot thickening her throat. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

He shrugged. “I’m glad to find out how you felt. Saved us both a lot of time.”

“I was overwhelmed, Rye.”

“Yeah, I got that, but there’s no need to make excuses. My family is not for you. It’s as simple as that.”

Pain flickered through her, hot, brutal. “This isn’t about your family—”

“It’s completely about my family. It’s only about my family.”

Ansley fought to hang on to her composure. Crying would be a disaster now. “I fell for you practically at first sight. I care about you so much.”

“That’s not the issue though, is it?”

He was hard, so hard, and he was shutting her out again and this time she feared he’d never let her back in. “What exactly do you think you heard me say to my mom?”

“I heard enough to know my family made you uncomfortable and that you couldn’t imagine ever living here.”

So, he’d heard pretty much everything. She drew a slow breath. “It was an emotional reaction, Rye, not necessarily a logical one. I was scared.”

“Scared?”

“Your mother copes with a lot. In comparison, my mother has had it so easy. My family has had it easy. There has been no struggle, not financially, and certainly not with disabilities. I admire you and your mother. I admire your sisters. I admire Jasper—”

“What about my dad? Do you admire him, too? Do you admire our house? Do you admire my trailer? Do you admire the sacrifices made?” His gaze locked with hers, his expression ruthless.

“Now I admit I walked into the conversation and might have missed something positive. Maybe you said some nice things about my mom, or perhaps you praised Josie, who has put you on a pedestal—”

“Rye, please.”

“Please what? Please be nice? Please be gentle? Why? You were ruthless last night. You tore us apart.”

Ansley couldn’t reply. She had no words, nothing to fix this or to take his pain away.

He walked toward her, tension rippling through him.

“From the beginning, I warned you off. I knew my life, my world, was not for you. But you couldn’t accept it.

You had to see for yourself. And once you saw it, you rejected it, and not gradually over the course of a week or even a few days.

No, you rejected it immediately, from the moment we pulled up in front of the house, your lip was curled and you were turned off.

Don’t think I didn’t see it. You might be a talented artist but you’re a lousy actress.

And I don’t blame you, but I do wish you’d saved us this scene. ”

“Rye, I’m sorry. I really am. And I don’t dislike your family.

I wasn’t judging them. I was confused and trying to process my reactions by talking with my mom.

I’m sure it sounded offensive, but it wasn’t meant that way.

I came here because I missed you. I wanted to see you. I wanted to be with you.”

“Sadly, I come with so much baggage,” he said quietly, mockingly, stopping in front of her. He tipped her chin up, his brown gaze burning through her. “I’m sure when you return to Marietta, you won’t miss all of this.”

She blinked back tears. “I will miss you, Rye. I don’t know how not to miss you.

You feel like you’re supposed to be my person.

From the moment I met you, it felt like we were supposed to be together.

It doesn’t make sense. There’s no logical explanation.

I’ve just always been drawn to you and feel good with you. I feel like me with you—”

“Until you enter my house and see the ramps and the old furniture and my dad just sitting there in front of the TV.”

Her eyes burned. Her heart burned. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just felt bad that you have to take care of everyone. I felt bad that you haven’t had the freedom my brothers have—”

“I don’t need pity, Ansley, not from you, not from anyone.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth, a slow, deep kiss full of regret and longing, before lifting his head and drawing away. “Goodbye, Ansley. Drive safely. Get home in one piece.”

*

Fifteen minutes after the door closed behind Ansley, it opened again and his sisters entered the Calhoun office. Rye rose from his desk, certain there had been an emergency.

“What’s happened?” he demanded. “What’s going on?”

“Where’s Ansley?” Josie asked.

“Gone.”

“Why?”

“I’m sure you know why. Mom must have called you,” he answered, sitting back down, already too tired of talking to deal with his sisters standing up.

“Did you break up?” Hannah asked, grabbing a chair and rolling it close to his desk.

Rye gave her a hard look. “What do you think?”

“She was talking to her mom.” Hannah gave her brother an equally hard look. “Girls talk to their moms. They’ll say things when they’re still trying to figure something out. Moms are a safe place. I talk to Mom. I tell her things that I would never tell you or anyone else.”

Josie sat down on the edge of his desk. “I don’t just talk to Mom,” she said. “I talk to Dad, as well. He’s not always the most communicative, but you’d be surprised at the good advice he can give, if you give him a chance.”

“Not sure what you think you’re accomplishing, but you’re failing,” Rye said, leaning back in his chair. “So, leave, both of you, before I throw you out.”

“You can’t,” Hannah said, nodding to his arm in a sling. “Not like that.”

“The point is,” Josie continued calmly, “you can’t be upset with Ansley talking to her mom.

Talking to a mom is different than talking to a girlfriend.

Ansley called her mom because that’s what family is for, and it’s what we have always done.

” She gestured to Hannah. “At least that’s what we do.

We go to each other so we don’t burden you—”

“You’re never a burden,” he said.

“We just know you already worry a lot, and we want to make things better for you, so we talk to each other, and it helps. Talking something through helps more than you know. It’s something you could do more of. You always try to handle everything yourself.”