He brought the buggy to a halt in front of Josie’s.
She drew in her breath, despite the constriction in her throat, her gaze roaming over the house, then over him. “Thank you, Wyatt. I deeply appreciate what you did for me. Delilah and Royce, too.”
He gave a short nod, helped her from the buggy, then pulled her luggage from the back seat and brought them into the house, his actions taking her by surprise, making her heart hurt even more. Was he that anxious to get rid of her?
Sheridan stepped up to the porch, holding back the tears that threatened to leak from her eyes. Wyatt came out the door and just stood there, seemingly unsure, until he drew her into his arms without a word and pressed his lips to hers. His embrace tightened as his kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping against hers, igniting that flutter of want and need within her once more.
And then it was over. He broke the kiss, touched the brim of his hat with his fingers, then rushed to the waiting buggy, his actions odd, and thoroughly confusing. His kiss hadn’t felt like ‘goodbye’. It felt more like a promise, but a promise of what?
She stepped into the house, dazed, more confused than she’d ever been, and hurt, so very hurt.
“Sheridan!” Mrs. Gallagher put the last bottle of liquor on the rolling cart, replenishing what had already been used. It was Friday evening, after all, and the customers had already started arriving. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the ranch?”
She put down her portmanteau, then promptly burst into tears.
Mrs. Gallagher rushed forward and gathered her in her arms. “Oh, lass, don’t cry.”
“He doesn’t want me. Hewasonly helping me.” She sniffed then swiped at her eyes, removing the wetness even as she fell more deeply into Mrs. Gallagher’s hug. “It felt so real. I wanted it to be real.”
“Come.” Mrs. Gallagher patted her back then pulled away. “Let me fix you a cup of tea. You’ll feel better after a nice cuppa.”
“Tea isn’t going to fix it this time.”
Mrs. Gallagher looked at her, really looked at her and a slow smile spread her lips. “You love him.”
“I do.”
“Does he know?”
“I don’t think it matters. He’s not in love with me.”
“Maybe he is. You should tell him.”
“I think so as well.” Susannah, who’d been sitting in the corner in one of the most comfortable chairs, put down the book she’d been reading, uncurled her legs from beneath her bottom and stood. She strode across the room, almost ethereal in her sheer nightgown and robe. “Never seen a man look at a woman like he looks at you.” She reached out and grasped her hand, holding it in the most reassuring way. “Tell him.”
“It’s too late. And it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t love me.” She pulled her hand out of Susannah’s grasp, picked up her portmanteau and trudged up the stairs. She didn’t even hear the moans and groans, the squeaking of the bed springs, or the laughter as she entered her room, closed the door then flung herself on the bed.
“You’re a fool, Wyatt MacLean! I’m almost ashamed to call you my son right now.” Delilah shook a wooden spoon at him. For a moment, he thought she might hit him with it. She didn’t, ofcourse. Delilah had never raised a hand to any of her boys, but that was his greeting the following morning when Wyatt walked into the kitchen. After bringing Sheridan back to her house, he’d stayed out in the barn, his sleep restless among the horses, for two reasons. One, because he knew the fragrance of Sheridan’s perfume would be the first thing he smelled when he walked into the house, and two, because he knew his mother would have words for him. He wasn’t prepared for either. Nor did he want to face them. There were questions in his own mind he couldn’t answer and, though he didn’t expect a ‘good morning’ when he swallowed his pride and entered the house, he didn’t expect to be called a fool, either.
He couldn’t argue with her though because she was right. He was a fool. A big giant ass! And maybe a coward to boot!
“How could you let her go?” Delilah demanded, her hands on her hips, a stance he’d seen too many times.
He looked away from his mother, unwilling to see the hurt and anger in her eyes, but that was a mistake too, because his gaze fell on the rooster-shaped cookie jar. The memory of Duke begging for a treat and Sheridan laughing while she gave it to him flashed in his mind. He closed his eyes, willing the memory away and finally mumbled, “She wanted to leave.”
“No, she didn’t. Anyone with eyes in their head could see that. She was happy.You—” She emphasized the word “—were happy. For the first time in a long time.” She reached out and laid her free hand on his arm, then looked deeply into his eyes. “Are you afraid she’ll do to you what Katie did?”
He shook his head. That had never been a worry. “Sheridan isn’t like that. She’s?—”
“She’s what, Wyatt?”
“Kind. Sweet. Gentle.”
“Then why did you let her go?”
He had no good answer, none that would satisfy her, because they didn’t satisfy him, except that they had accomplished what they’d set out to do. Their agreement had come to its natural conclusion. Neither one of them had discussed what would happen after Odette and Aunt Estelle left. He certainly had never considered that he would fall in love with her. He liked her well enough, but love? He didn’t think that would happen. He thought he’d steeled his heart to that emotion a long time ago. Still, he could have asked her to stay, even though they weren’t married—not for real, at least. What he felt in his heart was different though. In his heart, he felt married, which confounded him. “I’m heading out.”
Delilah dropped the wooden spoon into the sink, then wiped her hands on her apron. “Royce and I are leaving today to visit Preston,” she stated matter-of-factly, her eyes roaming over him.
