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“Sure enough,” Asa said, “your father got you twisted up inside. To the point you’d marry two complete strangers to hold onto a piece of land you’d be better off selling and living off the proceeds, but you wouldn’t do that.”
“I made a promise.”
“Yeah. The kind of promise that lingers. The kind bound up tight with guilt and failure.” Her surprise must have shone through because he nodded his head. “Yeah. I’ve made a few of those myself. Back when I was a kid, lying in the alley, bloody from a beating, whining because no one ever told me ‘Welcome home.’ I made a promise to whatever God was listening, told him that, if he could see his way to getting me a home, a lady and a bit of respect to go with it, I’d do what I had to not to let him down in the meantime. I never thought anyone was listening, but then you came along and that promise was dropped in my lap.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re so busy tarring me with your father’s brush, you can’t credit me with common decency.”
She crossed her arms against her chest. “Now you’re saying it’s decent to lie?”
He snorted. “I’m saying I never thought you’d ride this mustang through to the finish, but I expected better than this.”
“You thought I’d be so bowled over by what you make me feel in bed that I’d overlook your highhandedness?”
He pushed away from the doorjamb. “I expected you to understand that I was trying to spare you this worry on top of all the others you’d taken on.”
“You didn’t think I’d want to know?”
“What difference would it have made?” he asked, pinning her with the truth. “What would you have done differently than I did?”
He waited, clearly expecting an answer, but she didn’t have one. She didn’t know what she would have done differently. She didn’t even know what she was mad about. She just knew. “You should have told me.”
“So you said.” He motioned to the books. “I’ve got to see a man about a contract. You have a good look at the books, and when I get back, you can give me an earful about how else I’ve let you down.”
He spun on his heel. While she’d never seen the man do more than amble, today he stalked to the front door. Granted, he favored his right side due to his half-healed ribs, but he was the absolute picture of male outrage. Lord knows, she’d seen it enough to recognize it.
Something she didn’t initially recognize then registered as guilt pricked her conscience. How had she ended up the guilty one? The front door slammed. She crossed to the window and watched as Asa stormed toward the barn. The stupid man hadn’t even put on a coat. He got to the big oak in back and stopped, leaning against it for support.
She thought maybe his ribs were screaming, but then his shoulders, those broad shoulders she’d never seen anyway but squared, drooped. His head bowed. He took off his hat. She couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but she’d seen him run his hand down his face enough times to recognize the gesture for what it was. Pain.
Unease tore her insides. The prickle of guilt developed claws. She’d hurt him. She’d honestly hurt the man. Oh God, more than she didn’t want the ability for him to hurt her, she didn’t want to be able to hurt him. Dammit! This was all his fault. If he’d trusted her. If he’d only told her the whole truth, she could have understood. She would have been fine. They could have faced it together.
But this was… She sighed as he pushed away from the tree. This was… She stopped and admitted the truth. This was totally in character for the man.
Come here.
How many times had he said that to her and then offered his shoulder as comfort? How many times, in their brief acquaintance, had he stepped between her and something he felt was a threat? Brent. Aaron. Millicent. He had shoulders as broad as the mountains that guarded her home. Since the day they’d met, he’d done nothing but use them to shield her. Heck, he scooped up problems and discarded them the way other men picked up stones. So why had she expected him to act any different when it came to bad news? He’d been upfront from the beginning that he thought ladies needed tender touches and gentle handling. Keeping bad news from her was nothing more than another protective gesture.
She bit her lip as he disappeared into the barn. No doubt he intended to ride Shameless to the railroad to get the contract. The ride would kill his ribs. Clint could handle the asking, but this was too important to the ranch for Asa to risk it to anyone else. He’d made her a promise. He clearly intended to keep it.
