Crazy For You (8 page)

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Clint didn’t know where the words came from, but he found himself saying, “I’m hoping you’ll forgive me.”

What did he want her to forgive him for? Being gone for so long? Or for Bucky’s death?

Both. Although truth be told, he didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

She turned her head and studied him. “You left us for a long time without a word. We didn’t know if you were alive or dead. And then you just show up one day and expect forgiveness?”

He looked down for a moment at the old floorboards. When he looked back at her, he shook his head. “No. I don’t.”

She studied him for a long moment before saying, “I’m going to check on Rosie and Ben.” She went to her muddy boots that were still on the porch. Clint turned to go with her but she shook her head. “I’m going alone.”

He watched her and his gut twisted as she walked from the house and into the rain. Soon she was swallowed up by the darkness before appearing again when she reached the barn and stepped into the illumination given by the floodlight above the huge double doors. She opened one of the doors and slipped into the barn.

What had made him ask for forgiveness like he had? It had just come out, like his heart was speaking and it was something he had to say.

That wasn’t all he needed to say. He needed to sit down with Ella’s folks and apologize to them for what had happened to Bucky. They’d still have their son if it weren’t for him.

Ella’s words came back to him, the words she’d spoken in the bar.

“I can’t believe you would even think that after all those years that you weren’t like a part of the family. You were a second son to them.”

And then what Alice had said at dinner tonight.
“It was like we lost two sons when you left.”

How could they still think of him as a part of the family?

He rubbed the corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. All he could do was ask Alice and Carl to forgive him.

He turned away from the porch railing to put on his boots and follow Ella to the barn when the door opened and Carl walked through the doorway. He shut the door behind him before taking a seat in one of the three rocking chairs that were lined up along the porch on one side. A two-person swing was on the other side of the door.

“Have a seat,” Carl said and nodded to the chair next to him.

Clint obliged. It was clear that Carl wanted to talk, Clint just didn’t know what to expect but he hoped he knew the right words to say.

Carl took a pipe out of his shirt pocket along with a pouch of tobacco. He tamped tobacco into the pipe before lighting it and taking a puff.

“Ella go out to check on Rosie and her foal?” Carl asked.

Clint nodded. “A few minutes ago.”

For a long moment they sat in silence. Just as Clint was about to speak, Carl blew out smoke and said, “We’ve missed you, son. We were afraid you were gone and that we’d lost you both.”

Clint swallowed past the lump that had reemerged in his throat. “I didn’t think you’d want me around after Bucky died.”

Carl turned his gaze on Clint and frowned. “We needed you then, more than ever.”

Clint shook his head. “I was responsible for Bucky’s death. How could you want me around after that?”

“What in God’s name are you talking about?” Carl held his pipe away from his face. “You weren’t the reason Bucky died.”

“I was the one who let Bucky get on that bronc at the rodeo. He had to have been drunk the way he was acting. He insisted on riding and I couldn’t get him off that horse.” Clint looked down at his hands. “I should have tried harder. I should have pulled him off that damned bronc. He would never have taken a fall and wouldn’t have been trampled to death.”

“For God’s sake, is that what you think?” Carl’s voice rose. “That Bucky dying was your fault?”

“It was.” Clint pushed his hand through his hair. “He was drunk, damn it.”

“He wasn’t drunk.” Carl’s voice was clear and calm. “He had a heart attack while he was on that horse.”

Clint’s gaze cut from the rain to Carl. “What do you mean he had a heart attack?”

Carl let out a deep sigh. “Bucky insisted on keeping his heart problems from everyone, including you. He had a rare heart defect and didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him.” Carl shook his head.

Clint stared at him, stunned into being unable to speak, his mind reeling. What Carl was saying was like a punch to Clint’s gut.

“He was stubborn that way, like his mother.” Carl took another puff on his pipe before he went on. “If I’d known you blamed yourself, I would have told you.” Carl leaned back in his chair. “But instead of staying and talking to me, you left without a word.”

Clint looked away from Carl and stared out into the night, watching raindrops sparkle and fall in the soft porch light. Bucky had suffered from heart problems all those years and hadn’t told Clint? It was almost like a slap in the face. Clint had been Bucky’s best friend since they were kids. How could Bucky have kept something like this a secret from Clint?

He turned back to Carl, still having a hard time comprehending what the older man had said. Clint swallowed. “You’re positive that’s what happened?”

“Know it for a fact.” Carl rocked back and forth in his rocking chair. “Coroner did an autopsy.”

Clint shook his head. All these years he’d been running from his past, from something that wasn’t his fault? “If I’d known about Bucky’s heart problems… He said he wasn’t drunk and that he was going to ride. I didn’t believe him… Damn.”

Carl blew out a puff of smoke. “Don’t beat yourself up about it one way or another. You can’t change things and like I said, Bucky was as stubborn as they get.” Carl continued rocking in his chair. “I like to think Bucky went the way he’d have wanted to go. Ridin’ a bronc.”

With his forearms on his thighs, Clint leaned forward and watched the rain come down. He listened to the drum of raindrops hitting the porch overhang. The news of Bucky’s heart attack and the fact that it wasn’t Clint’s fault still had him feeling stunned.

“What’ve you been up to since you’ve been gone?” Carl continued to rock. “What’s kept you away for such a long spell?”

Clint had to draw himself back to the present to answer Carl. “Traveled abroad for years.” Clint continued to stare into the night. “Raised horses for a while.”

Carl nodded. “You’ll have to tell me all about it when you’re ready.”

“I’d like to apologize.” Clint faced Carl. “I should have been here for you and Alice, and Ella, too. I shouldn’t have run away like I did.”

“What’s done is done.” Carl eyed Clint evenly. “You can’t change the past but you can learn from it. I’m willing to bet you did a lot of growing up while you were off doing God knows what, God knows where.”

“A hell of a lot of growing up.” Clint gave a wry smile. “Apparently I have more growing up to do.”

Carl seemed to focus in more on Clint. “You have anything lined up now that you’re back?”

Clint shook his head. “I wasn’t even sure I was staying.”

“And now?” Carl asked.

Clint thought about it for a long moment before he answered. Ella came to mind and he had to push that thought aside. He surprised himself, though, as he said, “I’ve decided I’m going to stay for now. After that…I’m not sure, not yet.”

Carl didn’t look as though Clint’s statement surprised him at all. “Ever since we lost our ranch hand, Ella’s had to do most of the ranch work.” Carl raised his arthritic hands. “I’ve got this damn rheumatoid arthritis in my hands and my knees. I can’t do what I used to.”

The older man paused and Clint waited for him to continue.

“You and me—we chose to be cowboys,” Carl went on. “But in my heart, I believe that Ella wouldn’t have picked this life if she hadn’t been forced to.”

Carl continued to speak. “I’ve got a proposition to make to you.” He lowered his hands. “I’d like to bring you on as my ranch hand while you’re here or until you decide to find something permanent. Hell, I’d make you permanent if you’d take on the job.” Carl was talking as if Clint would come around and stay for sure.

Clint was taken aback for a moment by Carl’s offer. Before he could respond, Carl went on. “I’m feeling mighty guilty because Ella isn’t able to do much of what she loves. Her art.” Carl was serious then smiled when he said, “She’s good, damned good.” His smile faded.

Memories of a young Ella drawing horses and making them out of Play-Doh came to mind. When she was older her drawings had become more detailed and beautiful, but she wouldn’t let him see most of them. In fact the only ones he’d seen were those that her proud mother had shown off when Ella wasn’t around.

“Since Pistol left, Ella’s been too busy to spend much time in that studio of hers that she’s got all fixed up,” Carl was saying. “I can’t pay you a lot but I can give you room and board. I’ve got a cabin that you can stay in.”

Several thoughts shot through Clint’s mind. He’d be able to help a family that he loved, a family he felt he owed something to. He’d have something to keep him busy until he decided what he wanted to do, and he’d have a place to stay.

And he’d be close to Ella.

The last thought threw him off a bit, but he pushed it aside and nodded. “I’d be glad to do whatever I can to help out.”

Carl gave a nod and appeared to be pleased. “I’m mighty glad you’ll be coming on. I know you likely will find something more permanent, but I’ll be glad to have you as long as you can.” He held out his hand and Clint took it. The older man had a firm grip as he shook Clint’s hand.

“Thank you, Carl.” Clint and Carl released hands. “For everything.”

Carl braced his hands on the arms of the rocking chair. “What do you say we have a shot of whiskey before you head on out?”

“I’d like that.” Clint glanced toward the barn. “Ella is still with the mare and her foal. I should go see how she’s doing first.”

“I’ll get out the whiskey,” Carl said as he started to get up.

Clint held himself back from offering to help Carl who was clearly hurting as he got to his feet. It wasn’t just Bucky and Alice who were stubborn when it came to admitting they could use some help. Carl and Ella were just as mule-headed. But he’d loved every member of the family.

As Carl walked into the house, Clint’s gaze moved to the barn. Back then he’d cared for Ella like a little sister. That sure as hell had changed in seven years. Ella wasn’t so little anymore. She was a grown woman now.

A woman he wanted to get to know in every way possible.

Clint pulled on his muddy boots that were still on the porch and headed out into the rain, soaking his borrowed clothes immediately straight through to his skin. He didn’t know how Alice was going to feel with him and Ella coming in a second time, wet and muddy again.

The rain was cold, the spring air cool. The barn door creaked when he opened it and he walked inside and closed it behind him. He went to Rosie’s stall, where Ben was busy feeding from his dam’s teat.

Ella sat on an upturned bucket and didn’t look up when Clint appeared in the stall doorway. She was so pretty with her hair straight from the rain and hanging down her back. He couldn’t help noticing her nipples that pressed against her wet T-shirt, pebble hard from the cold.

He hitched his shoulder up against the doorframe and moved his attention from Ella to the roan mare and her black foal. “They’re beautiful,” Clint said after a moment of silence and he looked back at Ella.

She nodded but didn’t look at him. “They are.”

Goose bumps pebbled her arms. “You’re cold,” he stated as he went to her and crouched next to her.

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

They were eye level as he knelt on one knee beside her. She turned to face him and caught her breath when she found her face so close to his.

He ran his knuckles along her cheekbone, her cheek cool to his touch. Her lips parted and her eyes widened. He slid his hand into her wet hair and cupped the back of her head. Without waiting for an invitation, he brought his mouth down on hers.

This time she didn’t fight him. She gave a soft moan and kissed him with an intensity that caught him off guard. She moved her arms around his neck and held on, as if she was afraid of falling.

In the next moment he found himself taking her down to the straw. She was wet from the rain and wild beneath him as she wrapped her thighs around his hips, holding him to her as they kissed. She started unbuttoning his shirt and slipped her fingers onto his bared skin, her hands cold as she moved them over his chest.

He groaned and rocked his hips so that he was rubbing his jean-covered cock along her center and that seemed to make her squirm even more. He separated his mouth from hers and moved his mouth along the curve of her neck and to the hollow of her throat.

“Please.” She clench her hands in his hair. “Please, Clint.”

He grasped her wet T-shirt and pulled it up before tugging her bra beneath her breasts and she gasped as the cool air tightened her nipples even more. He captured one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked, causing her to cry out and clench her fists in his hair. He moved his mouth to her other nipple and she arched her back, begging for more. He eased his hand over her belly to her jeans, down until his fingers were pressed against her center.

She whimpered as he sucked her nipples and rubbed her clit through her jeans.

He braced his other hand in the straw, to the side of her head. With his cock pressed against her, he looked down at her, studying her beautiful features. Her bared breasts and large nipples, her hair splayed across the hay, her lips parted, her eyelids heavy, and raw desire in her gaze.

With a groan he lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice came out soft and unsure.

“Nothing is wrong.” He held her gaze. “It’s just that you deserve more than a romp in the hay.”

“Is that what this is?” Her brows narrowed. “A romp in the hay?”

He shook his head. “That’s exactly what I don’t want it to be.”

Her cheeks turned red and she put her palms to his chest and shoved him. He let her push him off of her and he stayed beside her in the hay as she sat up and arranged her breasts in her bra and tugged down her T-shirt.