The Cowboy’s Bride by Donna Alward
14
“Oh my God. No.”
Alex sank into her chair, staring blankly at Connor. His face showed no reaction which scared her most of all. It was like someone had turned off a switch. It had to be shock.
“They’ve traced the lineage of the affected animal. There’s a direct tie to Windover. The herd. My God. The whole herd,” he breathed, stricken.
He looked at her with eyes so haunted she knew she’d never forget it as long as she lived.
Windover. The one thing he would do anything for. Any extreme measure…even marrying a pregnant stranger. The one thing linking him to his lost family, the one permanent fixture in his life. His sole responsibility.
Without livestock there was no Windover. She didn’t have to be a true rancher’s wife to know that much.
“So you rebuild,” she offered. “You try something else, or replace the herd. You don’t give up.”
He stared at her. “Don’t give up? How the hell would I replace the herd? Do you know how much time and money it takes to build a herd like that?”
She didn’t, and the blank look on her face said so.
He snorted. “Do something else.” He muttered it almost to himself.
“In the end, it’s fate,” he continued, his tone bitter and angry. “It doesn’t matter how much you do, how hard you try. It doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t say that!” Sitting in her chair, she reached over and gripped his fingers. “At least you know you tried everything. What happened is out of your control!”
“Exactly.” He looked at her and she could have sworn there was something like accusation in his glare. “Everything’s out of my control now.”
“Don’t panic. We’ll figure it out somehow.”
Alex did something she would never have imagined herself doing. At twelve-thirty in the afternoon, she went to the cupboard, took out the tequila, and poured him a double shot.
For a moment he stared at the amber liquid, but in the end, he pushed it away and looked up into her eyes.
She didn’t have a clue, did she? All he’d wanted was to show her that he could make this work. That it would be worth it for her to stay.
She thought it was the cows he was upset about. She was wrong, dead wrong.
It was her. Without the ranch, without the trust fund, without Windover, he had nothing to offer her. Sometime over the last weeks, he’d started caring for something other than Windover. Finally, after years of being alone, something, someone, mattered more. He started doing it all for her. For Alex and her baby. And all he’d done is fail spectacularly.
In that moment he hated her just a bit, for making him love again so much and then making him lose.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, anyway,” he accused. “You came here from the city. You don’t understand ranch life. You don’t understand what all this means to a man like me. You asked me what in our agreement required you to be here. The answer is nothing, Alex. Absolutely nothing. You might as well go back where you came from.”
Ignoring the bottle, he stood and headed for the front door.
“Stop.”
His footsteps halted at the harsh command, but he didn’t turn around.
When nothing came from her he wondered. Wondered what he’d see when he turned around. Lord, if she were crying he might as well pound himself in the head with a two by four. It would hurt less. He’d lashed out at her but wasn’t prepared yet to apologize. Everything was too fresh, too raw. His failures. His inability to make things right. Even this baby wasn’t his. He was like a big walking advertisement for complete impotence.
“If that’s what you want, I’ll pack my things.”
Her voice came quietly behind him and he forced himself to ignore the strange thickness to it. Her emotions were riding close to the surface and right now he could only deal with his own.
“I’ve gotta get out of here,” he answered, reaching for the doorknob.
“You can’t. Please, Connor, I’ve never seen you like this. In your frame of mind, I’ll worry about you driving.”
He held the doorknob in his hand. “I’m just going to take the ATV, not the truck,” he replied.
“Please don’t,” she begged. “You’re not thinking clearly…you might hurt yourself.”
Finally he turned, staring at her with hard eyes, his face a series of angles that spoke pain.
“And would you care, Alexis?”
She gasped, stepping back with her fingers over her mouth. With a searing backward glance, he went out and slammed the front door behind him.
Mere seconds later the motor of the quad revved, grinding into gear and fading away as Connor headed north.
Alex went back to the kitchen, her muscles knotted with worry. He was in no condition to drive. He was in such a fragile state right now.
Everything he held dear—his purpose for everything—was being snatched away from him. And she’d been powerless to stop him.
If only he’d loved her, she could have offered comfort, solace. She’d maybe have known what he needed and been able to offer it. But instead he’d taken it out on her, when all she’d wanted was to help.
She poured the tequila down the sink and recapped the bottle. Yes, she was from the city and hadn’t had years of ranch experience. And no, she wasn’t that up to snuff with the logistics of it all. But she knew a damn sight more than he thought. She knew what this place meant. She knew he felt like a failure and she knew he’d regret it forever if he gave up without seeing it through.
She’d offered help. And he’d pushed her away with hurtful words and an impenetrable emotional wall. Never in her life had she felt so superfluous.
If he couldn’t see what was standing right in front of him, that was his problem. She wasn’t going to stand around begging. She should have packed her things the day of the rodeo. Instead she’d stayed and opened herself up to more hurt.
Now he was out there somewhere, driving balls to the wall on a four-wheeler. She stared at their uneaten lunch, knowing that the time had come for this charade to be over.
She was not his wife, not really. And very clearly she was not what he needed. She grabbed the laundry basket and stepped out to the deck to take the clean clothes off the line before she packed them. He was right. There was nothing to keep her here now.
She pushed back the tendrils of hair that had escaped her bun, breathing deeply. The air had changed somehow. Suddenly the sweltering heat carried a threatening icy chill, and she went to the deck to seek a little relief.
She gazed north, eyeing the clouds curiously. Something was wrong. The clouds were piling layer upon layer and growing darker by the minute. The sun shone on her back, but in front of her they approached, menacing. She saw a flash—lightning. Several seconds later came the low rumble of answering thunder.
Connor must see the weather,she reasoned, figuring him to be back soon. Surely he wouldn’t ignore the signs he sensed so easily at other times. She reeled in the line, watching open-mouthed as a gust of icy wind yanked a dishcloth off its pins and sent it tumbling down the farmyard.
She hurriedly took the rest of the clothes down and went back inside. As she put lunch back in the fridge and tidied up the kitchen, the rumble of thunder grew closer, louder. A gust of wind came through the patio doors, flapping the vertical blinds. She jumped at the harsh flap of the vanes, trying to steady her racing heart.
It took all of ten minutes to pack her things. There were extra clothes this time, a plastic bag of toiletries and her picture to put back among the clothing to protect it. For lack of luggage, she retrieved a cardboard box from the basement and laid her wedding finery carefully within it. Anger and resentment burned within her. Connor had succeeded in doing what everyone else had done before him. He’d made her feel like she wasn’t worth it.
Well, maybe she wasn’t. But her baby darn well was. Connor would live up to his bargain in that he’d help her get on her feet. After that she’d be alone again…but wiser and stronger. She carried the box downstairs and waited.
After a half hour of pacing and mumbling to herself, she went back out on the deck, scanning the pasture to the north anxiously. Connor should have been back by now. The clouds were dark and the odd colour of an angry bruise. She put a hand to her eyes and searched the horizon for any sight of him. Nothing. The sun disappeared and the first angry drop of rain hit her forehead as she looked up, up.
Lightning forked from the sky, this time the thunder almost on top of it. The storm was getting closer. Alex ran a hand over her belly, trying to comfort herself and even her baby. As if it sensed something was amiss, the kicks got stronger and more frequent.
“Shh, little one,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving the dirt road through the fields, willing Connor to return any moment. “Daddy’ll be back soon.”
Once the words were out she knew it was true. Ryan had fathered this baby, but he wasn’t Daddy. Connor, with his gentle ways, his quiet strength, was meant to be Daddy to her baby, and somehow she had to make him see that. All her anger flooded away, replaced by concern. Connor was devastated, and that had coloured everything he’d said, surely. All the animosity had simply been a reaction. She didn’t really feel that way about him—she loved him. And if he thought he would get rid of her that easily…
Her hand stopped circling her belly as her mouth dropped open in horror. It couldn’t be…no.
She watched as the swirling clouds changed, and a funnel, like the circle of water in the bathtub, pointed down from the clouds, reaching for the earth.
She waited, hoping to see that destructive finger sucked back into the clouds. Instead, it reached, reached, until she saw it hit the earth, gathering speed and dust and momentum.
It was close, too close. She cried out as ice-sharp hail bit into her skin and the swirling vortex came closer and closer.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she chanted, horrified that Connor was out there. The hail pounded her now, the size of the peas from the garden, and she hurried inside.
The wind wailed around the house and she let fear be her guide. All her instincts said to head for the cellar. Alone, in the dark, she huddled there in the dark beside the deep freeze and the wooden shelves, waiting for the storm to be over.
It lasted only ten minutes, but each minute was a lifetime in which she knew without a doubt that she loved Connor with all her heart. Each wail of the wind solidified the knowledge that she was meant to be with him, Windover or not. Each rattle of the windows, each foundation-shaking boom of thunder told her that nothing in the world was more important than loving him, fighting for him, and bringing up her child with him at her side.
Pride be damned. There’d been enough pride today to fill up ten ranches. Right then and there she made a vow to tell him exactly how she felt.
The wind subsided a bit, the thunder grew more distant and she crept upstairs to view the aftermath.
Once the funnel passed by, the rain came in its wake. It was coming down in sheets, cold driving rain instead of the earlier hail that preceded the tornado. Numbly she pulled on an old fleece coat of Connor’s that hung on the hook by the door. Stepping outside, she covered her mouth in horror at the sight before her.
The house remained untouched, but the evidence of the twister was clear.
The poplar, the one under which they’d been married, was gone, the branches laying scattered and the trunk shorn completely off, a circle of ragged edges. The outbuildings were in a varying state of disarray. Pieces of roofing were scattered throughout the barnyard; the livestock shelter at the southeast side of the corral was splintered.
Her hair came completely loosed from its tether, hanging wildly around her face in the driving rain. She stumbled down the drive, heading north. He’d gone north, she reasoned stupidly, beginning to run. The twister had come from the north.
She forgot the mud splattering over her sandals. Forgot the rain soaking through her clothes and matting her hair. Forgot how dirt smacked up and coated her bare legs.
She only thought of Connor, unprotected, devastated, in such a storm.
“Connor!” She called out as she ran across the road and into the next quarter section.
There was no answer to her call.
She placed a hand instinctively where her baby lay but kept running. “Connor!”
She ran and ran, but heard no voice, no engine. Her lungs were on fire from running, her abdominals cramping from exertion. “Connor!” she screamed one last time.
She turned in a circle, searching the fields, seeing nothing but matted down grass and mud.
Nothing.
She stood in the middle of the lane, dropped her head, and finally gave in to the tears she’d been holding in.
Damn him. He’d probably gone and done something completely stupid right at the moment she’d decided to tell him exactly how she felt! The tears came hot and fast even as the rain tapered off, steady and cool. What would she do without him?
Blindly she staggered on until suddenly she saw a dark green form to the left. Crying, slipping and sliding in the slick black mud, she raced for the quad, only to discover he wasn’t there.
He’d left the quad there, with the key in it.
She cradled the soft mound beneath his jacket, sinking down and resting her head on the foot peg. In the damp she caught his smell rising up from the fleece, and her heart broke. How could he have the nerve to leave her now, just when she was ready to confess everything in her heart?
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, resting her head on the cold metal bar. “I’m sorry…”
“Alex?”
Her head slipped down until she was huddled on the muddy ground, crying uncontrollably. A cow bawled in the distance and she cursed at it, thinking at the injustice that a stupid bovine should live while Connor was out there…after seeing the state of the barn, she knew that no man, unprotected, could survive such a thing.
“Alex?”
“Shut up!” she screamed at the clouds. Now she was hearing things!
“Oh my God, Alex, what the hell are you doing out here?”
This time there was no mistaking it and she lifted her head to see Connor running toward the quad.
She tried to speak, she did. But no words would come out. Instead she cried even harder, knowing he was alive. The sobs turned into hysterical, hyperventilating-quality wails as she huddled into a ball in the mud.
“Alex, honey, oh God. Look at you.”
She gasped in a huge breath of air, lifted her head, and smacked the cheek hovering close to her own.
“What the hell was that for?” He leaned back, pressing a hand to his red cheek.
She stumbled to her feet. “For scaring me to death, you jerk! For breaking your promise!”
All of her anger faded with the outburst, the adrenaline sapped out of her. She gripped the fingers of her right hand, horrified at what she’d done. “Oh Connor, I’m so sorry I slapped you!”
She covered her mouth and started sobbing again.
“Hey, I’m all right,” he said soothingly, while raindrops dripped from his hair. “What promise?”
She looked up, wide eyes imploring him to understand. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt me. The night before the wedding. Our temporary vows, remember? You said you wouldn’t be the one to hurt me.”
“And I did?”
She looked down at her feet. How could he be so blind? She was covered in mud splatters to her knees. Her jacket was soaked and hanging on her and her hair drooped around her face. “Of course you did! Look at me! I’m a mess! I came out here looking for you and for what! You have the nerve to stand there looking like that?”
“Looking like what?”
“Like some hero from an action movie, that’s what!”
Why couldn’t she do what she’d promised herself, and tell him?
Because he was living and breathing in front of her, that’s why. And it still scared her to death, and so she instinctively wrapped herself in some ridiculous armor to protect herself.
“Alex?”
“What?” She glared at him through the driving rain.
“I have the power to hurt you?”
“Why does that matter?” She huddled inside the jacket, which was already soaked.
“It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.”
It took six giant strides to meet her, but when he did he swept her, mud and all, into his arms and kissed her.
It was Rhett and Scarlett. It was Darcy and Elizabeth and every romance hero ever written and rolled into one. Rain beat down on their heads as they clung, lips greedy.
“I was so scared,” she cried out, pressing kisses to his cheeks, his chin. “I saw the tornado coming and knew you were out here…”
“I tried coming back, I did,” he stuttered out. “But it came too fast…I left the quad and took cover in the culvert, but all I thought of was you and the baby…”
“You shouldn’t have run out…”
“I should never have said those things…”
They kissed again, a swift meeting of tongues and lips and the baby kicked between them and they laughed from the sheer joy of it.
“Say it again.”
He pulled back, staring into her eyes. “You really want me to?”
“Say it. I need to hear it again to know it’s real.”
“I love you, Alexis McKenzie Madsen.”
The tears started again. “I love you too, Connor. I just never thought you’d love me back.”
He drew her close. “How could I not?”
For a long moment she let herself be wrapped into his arms. Finally she stepped back, shuddering.
“You’re freezing. We’ve got to get you out of this rain.”
She didn’t argue, but crawled up behind him on the quad and wrapped her arms around his waist. He turned the key…nothing.
“What next?” He cursed at the machine and tried again, but no luck. It wasn’t starting. They were going to have to walk.
He helped her off the ATV and bundled her close. “What were you thinking, coming all the way out there in the rain? You’re going to get sick.”
She stopped him with a tug of her hand. “I was thinking I’d lost you.”
Their steps made squishy sounds along the path, the mud caking on their shoes. “I didn’t mean it when I said you should go. I was frustrated.”
“I know that.”
“I was in that culvert, and it was so loud I couldn’t have heard my own voice. But I knew that if I made it out I had to tell you I was sorry. That I lied about my feelings.”
“You’re not sending me away?”
He lifted a hand to her cheek. “Never. I’m tired of pretending, Alex. I think I’ve loved you since that first moment.”
“You’re crazy. There’s no such thing as love at first sight, you fool.”
“I’m not.” He squeezed her close. “You opened your eyes and looked into mine and something happened.”
“I packed my bags after you left.”
His face hardened in alarm as she stopped and faced him, looking up into his eyes. She stopped his protest with gentle words. “I’d like very much to unpack and start over. The right way.”
“Then you meant it. You love me, too.” He swallowed hard. She saw the lump bob in his throat and wanted to lean up and kiss it.
“I knew the night before our wedding. When you made your vows to me. I knew I was falling for you and was sure you didn’t feel the same. It made marrying you very surreal, Connor Madsen.”
“It felt real,” he admitted. He took her hand and urged her on, in view of the house now.
“I want to make promises to you, the real ones this time.”
“Another wedding?”
“Not so much…but real vows, to you. The things I wanted to say but didn’t. I want to do this right. Things have a way of becoming very clear when you think you’ve lost someone. Like I thought I’d lost you.”
Without another word he turned, gathered her, soaking wet, into his arms, and held on.
Long seconds they clung, each taking strength from the other, while the rain tapered to drizzle and a weak bit of sunlight snuck out between the clouds behind them.
“This is not how I expected to spend my afternoon,” he commented as they resumed walking.
It suddenly occurred to her that he didn’t know that the buildings had been hit. “Connor, about the tornado…”
He saw the house, obviously still standing. “How bad?”
“The southeast shelter and the corral fence are gone. So’s the poplar, and the barn and other buildings looked like they had a lot of roof damage.” She gave it to him all at once, knowing he’d take it easier that way.
“It doesn’t matter, since I’m not going to have any livestock to put in it anyway.”
Her head fell heavily against his shoulder, feeling so sorry for his loss. He’d worked himself into the ground only to have it torn away from him. “I’m sorry about the herd, Connor. I wish there was something I could do.”
He stiffened, then let out a breath. “You’re doing it.”
It wasn’t much, but in that moment she was closer to him than she’d ever been. In that moment he was letting himself lean on her, and she knew if he truly meant what he said they’d make a wonderful team.
“We’ll make it through,” she confirmed. “Somehow, we’ll figure it out.”
He angled his head away so that he saw her face, strong with determination. “You mean you’re staying? Even when I’ve lost everything? I don’t think you understand what it means to have to cull the herd. Windover as I know it…as it’s been for generations, is done.”
She half turned, snuggling into his shoulder and looking up at him. Her jaw set with determination and she wrapped an arm around his waist for good measure.
“What do you mean, done? You’ve got a huge, fabulous piece of land, a beautiful house, and most of all you’ve got your biggest asset—you. So you don’t have a herd of beef cattle for the moment. You figure out something else and we go from there.”
He shook his head. “I would never have guessed it.”
“Guessed what?”
“That you were a rancher’s wife.”
She grinned then, wide and happy. “Me either. Go figure.”
They stepped into the lane that ran to the house. She looked up at the building, so much more than a house. The first home she’d ever really had, the first place she’d belonged since she could remember. Her vegetable garden on the corner, thriving despite her green attempts. There was blue sky behind them now, while the dark clouds continued their journey to the southeast.
Their home. One that had survived other tragedies and was still standing.
“All I’ve ever wanted was a place to belong, and someone to belong to.”
“This house was meant for families, not bachelors bumbling around by themselves.” His arms tightened around her. “Stay with me Alex. Love me. Family me.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Alex leaned up, touched her lips to his, while she pressed her body as close to his as their damp clothes would allow.
They reached the door. He swung it open, then shocked her by gathering her, wet coat and all, into his arms and carrying her inside.
He murmured in her ear. “Maybe I wouldn’t do this for myself. And I probably would have given up and let go despite the family past of hanging on. But for you…for the future…I know I have the strength to rebuild. Because you’re with me.”
Alex had to swallow the tears that gathered in the back of her throat. “We’ve needed each other all along,” she whispered, curling around him and kissing him again.