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“Here, I guess,” she said.
Rush felt his gut clench as he waited. He should have known that the budding relationship with this woman was too good to be true. When she dumped him, as he was sure she was about to do, he would take it like a man. But it would hurt like hell.
“I’m listening.” He paused. “It’s all right, Tracy. Whatever it is, I’ll handle it.”
She took a breath. Rush could sense her anguish. At that moment he would have done anything to fight her battles, charge to her rescue, ease her pain.
But then she spoke.
“Hear me out, Rush. I’ve seen what a wonderful father you are to Clara. And I can imagine how loving you’d be with children who were your own flesh and blood, children nobody could take away from you. You deserve to have those children with a woman who can give them to you. No matter how much I might care for you, and you for me, I’m not that woman.”
Rush reeled inwardly as the truth dawned—a truth he’d never considered, let alone expected.
“Steve and I tried for years to have a baby.” Her voice trembled as she continued. “We never did. It took a doctor to prove that it wasn’t his problem, it was mine. I won’t go into details, but I can’t get pregnant. Not ever.”
He found his voice. “Tracy—”
“No, there’s nothing you can say. I should’ve told you sooner, but it was so personal. And I didn’t know I would come to feel this way about you.”
“What way?”
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
The Hummer was getting chilly inside. Rush turned on the engine and dialed up the heater. Outside, a cold wind blew dry leaves against the windshield.
“Damn it, Tracy, listen to me. Do you think that’s all I care about? Sure, having a family is important to me. But there’s more than one way to get one. I couldn’t love Clara more if she’d been born to me. And I’d feel that way about any child I took in as my own.”
“You’re saying that now,” Tracy said. “But you need time to think about it. There are some lovely women in Branding Iron. Some of them already have children and could have more. Maybe you should try dating them.”
“So what are you saying?” She was getting to him. Rush could feel his frustration building. “If you’re trying to break up with me, just do it. Don’t use an antiquated excuse that makes me look like Henry the Eighth.”
Tracy’s hands clenched in her lap. “All I’m saying is that we should spend some time apart—time for you to decide whether you want a relationship that won’t give you the family you deserve.”
“Or give you time to realize that it doesn’t matter.”
“Fine.” She turned away and gazed ahead, through the windshield. “At least we’re in agreement about something. I think it’s time you took me home.”
Rush drove the short distance to Tracy’s house with her sitting in silence beside him. His head was still spinning. What else could he have said? Nothing, he realized. Of course, he’d rather have children of his own flesh and blood. But if having a woman he could love meant doing things differently, he could live with that. Plenty of happy couples did.
All he could do was back off and hope Tracy would come around to his way of thinking. One thing was certain—he wasn’t about to come around to hers.
He pulled the Hummer into her driveway. She opened her own door and slid off the seat.
“Tracy.”
She turned back to look at him. He saw the gleam of tears in her eyes.
“Call me if you want to talk, or if you need anything,” he said. “I mean it.”
She shook her head. “We both need time.” With that she slipped to the ground, closed the door behind her, and fled into the house.
Rush drove back to the ranch. A sooty bank of clouds moving in from the west added to the gloom of the day—the kind of clouds that brought icy rain or thin, powdery snow that would blow away on the wind.
He battled the urge to pick up his cell phone, call Tracy, and try to put this nonsense to rest. But no, he had to respect her wishes to be left alone. All he could do was keep busy and hope for the best.
* * *
Even with the tree-selling season past its peak, the partners were working long hours. Late buyers still flocked
