Trevor had that accident, he and I were partying together. I knew he was too drunk to drive, but I was too busy talking some buckle bunny into my bed to stop him.”
“That doesn’t make you responsible.”
“Friends look out for each other. And I didn’t. He’d be his old self today if I hadn’t let him walk out that door.” He turned to look at her. “How come you take care of your sister like you do?”
“Same thing.” She fooled with a button on her shirt, avoiding his eyes. “After Roy died, I went off to college. Left her with Mama and nobody to take care of her.” She heaved a heavy sigh and he wondered how those slim shoulders supported so much weight. “She turned to Mike, and when he left—I thought maybe I could make up for the way I’d left her.”
“She seems to be doing okay now,” he said.
“No thanks to me. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
“Who hasn’t? Maybe you ought to stop trying to fix the past and take care of yourself.”
A faint smile gave her face a little of its old glow. “Maybe you should too.”
“We could do it together. I’m serious. Come work at the ranch. If you could ride that hellion of a stallion, you can ride anything. Cinn would be your signing bonus.”
It was a ridiculously generous offer, and judging by her expression, she knew it. But just when he thought she might say yes, she looked away. He caught the glimmer of a tear on her lower lashes.
“Lane, you don’t understand. I can’t.”
She was right. He didn’t understand. Something was still holding her back—some hidden fear he hadn’t found yet.
“So where are you going to go?”
She looked over at the darkened Love Nest.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll think of something.” She faced him, and a small spark of the old Sarah leapt in her eyes. “It’s not really your concern, okay?”
“No, it’s not. But I want it to be.”
She started to speak, but he held up one hand in a “stop” gesture.
“Look, I know that’s the last thing you want right now. But I want to help.”
“Then leave me alone.”
He took a deep breath. “Actually, I can do that. I need to get on the road and build up some points if I’m going to make the finals this year anyway. Frankly, I should have gone to Amarillo. And then—then you made me want to stay.”
He remembered the softness of her skin in the dark, the glow of her eyes when he made love to her, and wondered if she was thinking the same thing. She looked up at him and there was no trace of that passion in her eyes now. She was still processing the fact that he’d been the man who bought Flash. He’d lost her for good, all because of something he’d done ten years earlier.
All he’d done was buy a horse. Anyone would have done it. But she was right—it had never occurred to him to wonder about Roy’s family, or the fact that his good fortune was someone else’s disaster.
And she was right about another thing. He liked playing cowboy, but he didn’t know a damn thing about what that life was really like. He hung out with the young guys and shared their carefree hours at the rodeo, but when they got in their trucks and went home to their wives, with or without prize money, he really had no idea what happened. He might as well be his brother, perched on his leather throne looking down on the streets of Casper. He didn’t know a damn thing about real life, any more than his brother did.
“I’ll be on the road for a week, maybe two,” he finally said. “Hell, I could stay out for three. Trevor can handle things here. So you’re welcome to stay in the cabin a while.”
“I’m leaving.”
“Sarah, you’ve had a shock. I hate to think of you hitting the road like this.”
“Like what?” She shoved out her chin, trying to look tough.
“Like a basket case.” She shot him a dirty look, but she couldn’t deny it was true. “Stay as long as you need to. Take a little time to think. A couple days, a couple weeks… Whatever you need.”
She looked from him to the window, then back at the man. She really didn’t have any place to go, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
“I can take care of myself,” she said. “Don’t do me