Rugged Cowboy - Elana Johnson Page 0,34

and now he was saying he was. She’d been whispering about it to Diamond when he’d arrived, and Jess really wanted to believe his feelings had changed in the past fourteen days.

“I think she’s mixed up in something,” Dallas said, his voice almost a whisper. “She wanted money, from the sale of the house.”

Jess cocked her eyebrows. “How did she know about the house?”

“Someone named Josh.” Dallas shook his head, clearly in pain. Jess had never been married, so she couldn’t even pretend understand all the emotions of a divorce. She knew she saw a good-hearted man in front of her, one who was just trying to do the right thing.

“Dallas,” she said gently. “I’m sorry about Martha.”

He looked up, his eyes wide, hopeful, and filled with vulnerability. “Thank you.”

“I also need to apologize,” Jess said, looking down at her cream cheese square again. “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst and ran out. That wasn’t very nice of me.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I think I just sort of…I don’t know.” Jess could see herself sitting in the booth alone after hearing Dallas answer the phone with the word “sweetheart.” She floated above the situation, watching herself sit there and talk to herself, then call Spencer, pay the bill, and leave the restaurant.

She hadn’t looked for Dallas at all, and she’d gone down the street to the corner, where Spencer had picked her up only a few minutes later. They’d gone back to the ranch, and he’d said nothing to her. She obviously wasn’t very distressed on the outside, though Jess felt like she’d messed up once again. She’d somehow miscommunicated to Dallas that she wasn’t interested. Or that she wasn’t patient. Or forgiving.

She wanted to be all of those things, and though they’d just had a good talk, she still felt like she was operating from a completely different book than he was.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You really don’t need to apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did, though,” she insisted. “I judged you, and I shouldn’t have. I left, when I should’ve stayed to have this exact conversation.” She shook her head. “You said you weren’t ready to go out with me a couple of weeks ago, and then you asked tonight, and I should’ve known that meant you were over your wife. I’m sorry too, Dallas. Will you forgive me?”

“Of course,” he said. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Yes,” she said, feeling them both take one giant step toward one another. For her, though, there was still a massive barrier keeping them on opposite ends of the spectrum.

“Dallas,” she said slowly. She was full and starting to get a buzz from the high sugar consumption, so she didn’t dare take another bite of any dessert. “I think I need to know about prison.”

He nodded. “I’ve told you why I was there and what happened with Martha.”

“I think I got three or four sentences,” she said. “I need more.”

“More of what?” he asked.

“You were a surgeon, right?”

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“Heart surgeon,” he said.

“Someone died?”

His jaw clenched, and he nodded. “Some of my patients died, despite my best efforts. It’s the worst feeling in the world to know you’re not good enough when so many people are counting on you.”

Jess didn’t know what that kind of pressure felt like either. She’d always been accepted in her family, and she’d been good with horses for her whole life. Her father said it was a gift she’d been born with, and she’d never doubted him.

“But someone died, and someone thought it was your fault,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “I got sued; the hospital where I worked did too. There was a malpractice issue, and then the sister of the woman who died filed with the insurance company too. I guess I signed the papers, because I was desperate to help the family. I wanted them to know I still cared, that I hadn’t done anything wrong on the operating table.” He shook his head. “Always read what you’re signing, Jess. By me signing that paperwork, I was essentially saying that the insurance should pay for this woman’s death, and that was fraud. I thought I was signing a form for her medical care, not her death benefit.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dallas said, his voice low. “I signed the paperwork. It’s amazing how quickly fires can start, by seemingly simple decisions.”

Jess could only nod, though she didn’t have the personal experience Dallas did.

“I didn’t go to court,” he said. “I couldn’t put