Once a Rebel (14 page)

“It's just something I wanted you to have.” He brushed his lips against her cheek, then stepped back and grabbed his hat, slipping it on his head, shielding his eyes. “I'll see you later.”

She walked onto the porch and watched him leave. After she returned to the cabin, she removed some steaks from the freezer, thawing them out for dinner, for the meal she would prepare when he got home.

Should she buy him a gift, too? Give him something as personal as he gave her? At times Ethan still confused her.

Ten minutes later a knock sounded at the door, making Chocolate scamper around her feet. “Who's here?” she asked the dog as he perked his ears.

Susan answered the summons and found Cathy on the other side, dressed for school and carrying a tin of Valentine cookies.

More hearts, she thought. More emotion.

“These are from my mom.” Cathy pushed the cookies toward her. “She would have brought them herself but she's babysitting today.” The teenager motioned to a truck with its engine running. “That's my dad.”

Susan waved to the gray-haired man behind the wheel, and he waved back. “Is he taking you to the bus stop?”

“Yes, but only because we had to come here first. This cabin is in the boonies, too far for me to walk.” She shifted her feet. “It's kind of early, but my dad has to go to work.”

“If you want to stay for a little while, I'll drive you.”

“I'll have to ask my dad.” Cathy ran to the truck and returned. “He said it's okay. My parents heard you were a psychologist. That you work with kids my age. They even looked up information about your hotline on the Internet.” She blew her bangs out of her eyes. “I guess they think I'll get some free therapy out of this.”

Susan clutched the cookies and smiled. “I don't mind.”

Cathy shrugged. “I guess I don't, either. The hotline you run sounds pretty cool.”

“Thank you.” She thought about her job, the career that would take her back to California, separating her from Ethan. “It's very important to me.” And so, God help her, was the man she'd fallen in love with.

Then stay with him, she told herself. Relocate to Texas. Her career shouldn't be a stumbling block. She could run a national hotline from anywhere. She could—

“Are you okay?”

Susan blinked, then looked at Cathy. “I just have a few things on my mind. But I'll be fine.” She searched the young girl's gaze, realizing she was anxious to talk. “And so will you.”

They went into the cabin, where they sat in the living room, drinking milk and sampling the candy-sprinkled treats.

Cathy dropped some crumbs onto her lap. “My parents found out.”

“That you smoke?”

“Yes.” The girl frowned. “They gave me a brochure about lung cancer.”

“Your health is important. It should be the main issue.”
Susan flashed back to her own youth, to the rebellion that drove her. “I smoked when I was your age, too.”

“Is that why you never ragged on me about it?”

“I was waiting for the right time to talk to you about it. If I ragged on you right away, you wouldn't have liked me very much.” She waited a beat. “Are you going to quit?”

“I don't know. Maybe.” Cathy blew out a heavy sigh. “Is Lily okay now?”

“Yes. She's doing fine.”

“And what about Ryan? Is he going to die from his brain tumor?”

A concerned question, Susan thought. That deserved an honest answer. “Yes, he is. It's a terminal condition.”

“My dad's the same age as Ryan.”

“Is your father ill?”

“No.”

“Are you afraid he might get sick?”

“Sometimes.”

“Have you talked to him about this? Or to your mom?”

“No.”

“You should.” Susan closed the cover on the cookies, keeping them away from Chocolate. “You should tell them how you feel.”

“I told them about what you said. About how I could be there when a foal is born. They thought that was good. That it might get me ready for the baby.”

“I think so, too.” She looked into Cathy's eyes, but the teenager glanced away. “Do you still think it's dumb that your parents are having another child?”

“It will be if my dad gets sick and me and my mom and the baby have to live on our own.”

Susan shook her head. “That's not likely to happen.”

“It could.”

“Yes, but why worry about it? Why put those ideas in your head? Your father is older than most dads, but he's healthy. Strong enough to father another child. To be concerned about you and your smoking.”

“I guess.” Cathy dropped another crumb. “But I wish he wouldn't have moved us to Texas. Most of the kids at my school are weird. All the girls with their big hair, and the boys with their shit-kicker boots.”

“Now you're going to make me laugh.”

“Well, it's true.”

A moment later they both laughed. Silly, girlish laughter that felt incredibly good.

“Texans are a bit strange,” Susan said. “But I swear, they grow on you.”

“Like Ethan's growing on you?”

“Yes,” she said, touching her new necklace, clutching the heart, holding on to it. “Just like that.”

S
usan created a romantic ambience, using items she'd borrowed from Lily. She placed a white candle in the center of the table and added a small vase of wildflowers. Stoneware china and linen napkins came next.

The gift she'd purchased, wrapped in Valentine paper and topped with a red bow, went beside Ethan's plate.

Anxious, she scattered a few more candles around the room, lighting each one and watching them flicker.

Finally she went into the kitchen and put the finishing touches on a festive salad, adding garlic-seasoned croutons. She decided to wait to mix the dressing since she didn't know if Ethan liked oil and vinegar.

After dusting crouton crumbs from her finger, she checked on the rest of the meal. The potatoes were bak
ing in the oven and the steaks were marinating in a honey and pineapple glaze. Once Ethan got home, she would broil them.

Fifteen minutes later he arrived, looking slightly rumpled from a day's work. He sent her a warm smile, and her heart all but melted.

When he gave her a husbandly type kiss, she struggled with her composure.

He removed his hat and glanced around. “You've got this place all jazzed up. Hey, look at the table.” He walked over to his place setting and picked up the gift. “Is this for me?”

Susan nodded. Her mind was going a mile a minute, caught in the bride mode.

“Can I open it?” he asked.

“I'm sorry. What?”

“My present. Can I open it?”

He looked like a kid at Christmas. A big, sexy kid with rugged features and a five-o'clock shadow.

“Yes, of course,” she said.

He pulled off the bow and went after the paper. When he got to the box, he was a bit more careful. He opened it and examined his gift—a pocketknife with a shimmering blade and a decorative handle.

“Thank you. This is perfect. How did you know that I collect pocketknives?”

“I didn't. I knew that you always carried one, but it was Ryan who told me that you collected them. I had no idea what to get you, so I asked him for some suggestions.”

“I really like the handle,” he said.

“Me, too.” She pointed to the blue inlay. “This is
lapis. Like the color of your eyes.” She knew it was a lovesick thing to say, but she couldn't help it.

“If my eyes are lapis, then yours are malachite.” He caught her gaze, then looked down at the knife, tracing the green stones, running his thumb along the intricate pattern they created.

A strong touch. A masculine appreciation.

When he gave her another husbandly kiss, her knees nearly buckled.

Was she imagining his spouselike affection? Building it up in her mind? Or was he as seriously smitten as she was?

Suddenly the oven timer went off.

They separated, and she forced herself to act normal, to return to the kitchen to finish dinner.

She removed the potatoes from the oven and prepared to broil the fillets.

“How do you want your steak?” she called out.

“Medium rare,” he called back.

“Is oil and vinegar okay for the salad?”

“Sure. That's fine.”

Within no time they sat across from each other, the white candle burning between them. He scanned the table.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Blue cheese dressing.”

“You said oil and vinegar was—”

“The blue cheese is for my potato.”

She gave him a curious look. “You don't use butter, sour cream or chives?”

“Nope. Just blue cheese dressing. I know there's some in the fridge. I always keep a bottle handy.”

“I'll get it for you.”

“That's okay. You don't have to wait on me.” He got up and went into the kitchen.

When he returned, she watched him dump the dressing onto his potato. He followed the application with a sprinkle of pepper.

“There's still so much I don't know about you,” she said.

He glanced up. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because it's true.”

He squinted at her. “Was I supposed to tell you ahead of time that I put blue cheese on baked potatoes? Is that a major issue?”

“No, of course not.” She knew her mind was working overtime. That she probably wasn't making any sense to him. She reached for her water and took a swig. Ethan was watching her, waiting for her to continue.

“Cathy was here today,” she said, finding a roundabout way to lead up to her point. “And she confided in me about her parents.” Susan scooted forward in her chair. “Why don't you ever talk about your family, Ethan?”

“What's to talk about? You knew my dad way back when. And my mom has been gone since I was a kid.”

“That's exactly my point. You've never mentioned her. The things you remember about her. How old you were when she died. That's an important part of who you are.”

He just stared at her, still, quiet. Then he frowned. “My mother didn't die.”

“I always assumed…I…” She stalled, meeting his troubled gaze. “What happened? Where is she?”

“She split when I was in third grade. She divorced my dad and moved back to New York City, where she was from.”

“And you haven't seen her since?”

“No.”

“Will you tell me about her?”

“There's no need. It's over. Ancient history.”

The pain that crossed his face was like an open wound, she thought. It wasn't over. “Please, tell me about her.”

“Why? What for?”

“Because I want to know.” She put down her fork, unable to finish her meal. He'd stopped eating, too. The only things that moved were the flames on the candles. Dancing fire. Dangerous heat.

He didn't give in. “This conversation is a waste of time.”

“No, it isn't.” She knew she had to admit how she felt, to say the words out loud. “I love you, Ethan. And everything about you is important to me.”

A state of panic jumped into his eyes, and he pushed away from the table. “You weren't supposed to do that. You weren't supposed to change the rules.”

She held on to her pride, even if her heart was slipping away from her. “Sometimes it seems like you love me, too.”

The panic remained in his eyes. “What difference does it make? You'll be leaving soon. Going back to California, back to your old life.”

She came to her feet. The candles kept burning, melting, reacting to the flames. “I can stay in Texas. I can relocate. I've already been thinking about it.”

“Because of me?”

“Yes.”

His voice turned rough. “That's crazy. That's insane. It would never work. You have a job in San Francisco. A career.”

“I can run a national hotline from anywhere. I can sell my condo. I can conduct a long-distance relationship with my assistant.”

He shook his head. “You'd miss the city. You'd get tired of me. Of being trapped in a small town.”

She dropped onto the couch. “That isn't fair. You're comparing me to your mother. To what she did to you.”

“Don't analyze me, Susan. Don't do that.”

When he rolled his shoulders, she watched the muscles bunch in his arms. Even his veins became too prominent. He was uncomfortable. Wary. And she didn't have the slightest idea how to earn his trust.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm sorry if I pushed too hard.”

He sat beside her. “I don't want to lose you. But I've known all along that it was going to happen. That we weren't meant to stay together.” He reached out to smooth a strand of her hair, but he dropped his hand before he made contact, before he touched her. “This was only supposed to be an affair.”

She wanted to cry, to curl up like an embryo. “I'm throwing myself at you again. Like I did when we were young.”

“No, you're not.”

“Yes, I am. And you're behaving the same way, too. You're being kind, but you're dodging my advances. Nothing has changed between us. It's the past all over again.”

And his rejection pierced her like an arrow, ripping through her skin, stabbing her heart.

“I can't stay here tonight,” she told him. “I'm going back to Ryan and Lily's house. I need to be with my family. To stop chasing you.”

He fell silent. Sad. Solemn. She waited for him to admit that he loved her. That he couldn't live without her. But he didn't.

In the end, he simply let her go.

 

Susan spent the next two days milling around Ryan and Lily's house. She told herself she would get over the depression, but at the moment her claim wasn't working.

She sat on the sofa, staring at the TV, where an afternoon talk show went in one ear and out the other. When Lily walked in, she glanced up and tried to smile.

“Is that helping?” Lily asked.

“This?” Susan adjusted the pint of ice cream she was eating. “Vanilla fudge ripple always helps.”

Lily took an overstuffed chair. She was getting stronger with each passing day, determined to get past the horror Jason had put her through. “Life's too short to be sad, Susan.”

“I know.” She used the remote, putting the TV on mute. “I just need to mourn for a while.”

“Have you heard from Ethan?”

“No.” And she hadn't seen him, either. Not even from afar. She hadn't gone anywhere on the ranch where he might be. “Is Ryan disappointed in us?”

“In you and Ethan?” Lily shook her head. “He thinks you'll get back together.”

A lump formed in Susan's throat. Her cousin hadn't gotten over his dream. He was holding on to his beliefs, trying to make his hopes and wishes seem real. “Is he resting?”

“Yes.” Lily tucked her legs under her, getting comfortable in the big padded chair. “He had some episodes of confusion today. It's difficult to see him that way, but I've learned to treasure every moment we have left. Even the difficult ones.”

“I don't want to leave Ryan,” Susan said. “And I don't want to leave you, either. I'll miss both of you so much when I'm gone.”

“Then stay. Move into the guesthouse. Live here on the Double Crown.”

“I wish I could. But I don't want to put myself in the position of pining after Ethan.” In an absentminded gesture, she stirred the melting ice cream. “It will be easier if I go back to San Francisco.”

“Whatever you decide is your choice. But you're always welcome here. Just remember that, okay?”

“Thank you.” To keep herself from crying, she lifted the spoon to her mouth, eating another round of calories.

The phone rang. Lily rose to answer it, picking up the portable receiver from an antique desk.

A second later, she mouthed Ethan's name, letting Susan know that he was on the other end of the line.

Her pulse jackknifed. She watched Lily with anticipation, listening to the one-sided conversation.

“I'm doing much better,” Lily said. “How are you?” Silence, then, “Let me check.” The older woman pressed
the hold button, leaving Ethan waiting. “He asked for you,” she told Susan. “Do you want to talk to him?”

She considered saying no, but she refused to fall into the jilted-lover trap, playing games that would only end up hurting them both.

Inhaling a gust of air, she set down the ice-cream carton. “Yes, I'll talk to him.”

Lily brought her the phone, then left the room, giving her the privacy she needed.

Susan deactivated the hold device. “It's me,” she said.

Ethan's voice was quiet. “I just wanted to let you know what was going on.” He paused, creating a beat of silence. “Escrow closed early. I got the keys to my new house today.”

She loosened her grip on the phone. She'd been squeezing the receiver. “You must be happy about that.”

“I am.” Another pause. Then he said, “I'd really like you to see it.”

She wanted to spare herself the pain of being close to him, but she couldn't say no. She just couldn't. “When?”

“Anytime you're ready. I just left the escrow office, and I'm on my way to the house now.”

She pictured him in his truck, driving through town, heading into the country, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “I'll meet you there,” she told him, praying she was doing the right thing. “But I need directions.”

“Do you have a pen and paper?”

“Not yet.” She walked over to the desk and searched for writing utensils, fumbling a little when she found them. “I do now.”

She jotted down what he was saying: street names,
stops, turns, bends in the road. She doubted that she would get lost. He was being extremely precise.

She repeated the directions, her pulse flitting at her neck. A girlish reaction. Anxiety about seeing him again. “I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Susan.”

She ended the call, then returned to where she'd left the ice cream. She capped the carton, holding the chilled container against her chest. She could only assume that Ethan needed closure.

A proper way to say goodbye.

To let her go for good.

 

Ethan resisted the urge to pace, to stalk back and forth like a jungle cat behind bars. So he simply stood in the middle of the vacant house and let his insecurities destroy him.

He glanced out the window and saw that Susan had arrived. He had no idea what he'd been trying to accomplish by inviting her to his new place. All he knew was that he loved her.

And he was scared to death.

She parked behind his truck, and he fought to steady his nerves, to quit being a Freudian basket case.

Anxious, he met her at the front door. For a moment they gazed at each other, the way they'd done so many other times before.

She broke eye contact first, leaving him in an emotional lurch. He wasn't good at fixing his mistakes.

He invited her inside, and she walked into the entry-way, her boots sounding on the hardwood floor.