store to buy her a box of tissues. But she’d been sympathetic.
“Baby, why didn’t you tell me?” Grant’s voice was quiet. “I’d have gone with you. You shouldn’t have had to face that alone.”
“Then neither of us would have been able to drive home.” Christina gave him a shaky smile. “I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
“Yeah, they would have been.” Grant rubbed her arm. “Ray, huh?”
Christina nodded. “It was the week before the wedding, when he was going off for the rodeo. And then you and me …”
“Lost it in my trailer. I remember.” Grant blew out his breath. “Hell, yeah, do I remember.”
“I was so happy. Scared, but happy. And then …”
Christina had been crying since she’d come home. She’d tried to stop—the distraction of Grant storming in had helped a little, but the tears wouldn’t dry up.
The sobs returned. Poured out. She ended up with her head on Grant’s chest, his arms around her. He kissed her hair, said “Shh, sweetheart.”
Grant smelled of horse, leather, smoke from the train, himself. He held her securely in his arms, protecting her from the world once again. Christina put her arms around him and hung on.
Not long later, they were lying on top of the bed, Grant’s caresses gentle. Both were fully clothed—Grant in his Wild West gear, minus his prop guns, Christina in her tank top and denim shorts.
It hurt so much. The thought of at last carrying a baby had twined around her heart, bathing her in elation.
Losing that hope was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to go through.
Grant kissed her gently, touched her face, her throat. His eyes were red-rimmed and full of tears, and broke her heart.
They held each other for a long, long time, lying full length, saying nothing, using touches and little kisses to let the other know they were there. The sun sank, slanting warmth through the bedroom windows.
After a while, Christina said, “Your shoot. Did I mess it up for you?”
The bed moved with his shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Buster was out, anyway. But hell, baby, even if everything had been perfect, I’d have come.”
“Carter will probably rip you a new one,” Christina said, trying to find humor. But she felt limp, spent, as though she’d never laugh again.
“Carter can suck on it. But he’d understand if he knew why.”
Christina flattened her hand against his chest. “Please, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to have to explain.”
“You know I won’t, sweetheart.”
“And not Ray. Please. Even with this, I wasn’t thinking about going back to him. It’s over for good. I meant that.”
Grant’s eyes flickered. “I might still kill him. I just won’t tell him why.”
“Leave it, Grant. Please?”
“Don’t worry, love. I won’t talk to Ray. Don’t really want to.”
“I’m sorry.” Christina sighed. “And I’m so tired of saying sorry.”
“Then quit doing it. I believe you about Ray. I don’t want to go buy him flowers and tell him he and I should love each other, but I know you two are done. We need to move on.”
“Move on to what?” Christina asked, sad.
“I don’t know.” Grant caressed her cheek, letting his fingers trail to her shoulder. “All I know is I don’t want you moving out of Riverbend. Not yet. Not until I find out if we have a chance together.”
Christina didn’t want to leave either. She loved Riverbend, in spite of how much she complained, and she knew it.
“I made a big show of quitting my job,” she said dolefully. “I’d need it back if I stayed. I have a little put aside, but it won’t last forever. Bailey and I are buying this house together—I need to keep up my half. Plus there’s food, electricity—you know, all those luxuries.”
“Christina, I have money. And you know I’ve always wanted to take care of you.”
A gorgeous cowboy looking at her with those blue eyes and telling her that was hard to resist.
Christina had to smile. “I remember fighting about that too. I like to pay my own way, and you know it. I’m not going to be the lady who lunches and has an affair with the tennis pro because her rich husband is too busy for her.”
Grant gave her a patient look. “Sweetie, this is Riverbend, not Beverley Hills. We don’t have tennis pros.”
She flicked her fingers against his chest. “You know what I mean. I want to contribute—we should be partners, not me being the cook and