Coming Home to Texas (17 page)

Ellie stood behind Gunner and tried to catch Marny's eyes. The girl looked everywhere but in her direction.

Don folded his hands and cleared his throat in an official manner. “Jerry, do you give your consent for Marny here to be questioned about the events taking place on the Blue Thorn Ranch?”

“I do not.”

Gunner gave a small growl while Don sighed and Nash leaned in.

“Now, Jerry, let's not make this harder than it has to be. Marny's young, and we all want to let cooler heads prevail, don't we?”

Based on the level of tension in the room, Ellie wondered if cool heads were even possible.

“I'll ask you again. Do you give your consent for us to question your daughter?”

“Dad.” Marny spoke up, looking as if she was finally grasping the extent of her troubles.

“Fine,” Jerry grumbled. “I consent. But if I hear anything I don't like—”

“You are welcome to call the questioning to a halt at any time,” Don replied. “That's your right. But I'll repeat what I said when I called you in—information voluntarily given is in everyone's best interest here. Y'all stay calm and cooperate, and all this goes much easier.”

They went on through an hour of facts, times and locations. Nash was right, learning the logistics of what had happened gave Ellie no satisfaction. The details told her all of the hows, but none of the whys. Every probe about Marny's motivation was met with a teenage shrug and an evasive “I dunno.”

Yes, Marny and Mick had brought the rifle with them; no, they hadn't planned to kill an animal. Mr. Fuller hadn't put them up to it other than through endless rants—which he started on again until Don hushed him—that the Bucktons had ruined everyone's job prospects by exposing DelTex's crimes and thwarting the Ramble Acres development.

“Marny, can you explain exactly how you ended up firing lethal shots into that bison?” Don asked, his pen poised over a notepad already filled with notations.

“You don't have to answer that, darlin',” Jerry said. “You don't have to answer nothin'.”

It was then that Ellie finally succeeded in catching Marny's gaze. Ellie's own response to the suffocating indifference in the girl's eyes surprised her.
Help yourself
, Ellie found her heart calling to the young woman.
Push off this ugly bottom and start your climb up right now
.

“It was all so unfair, you know? Why do they get to be all righteous while the rest of us have to pay for it? Fancy yarn and picnics and all that baloney. You know what I got? I got no money, I can barely put gas in my car, and I got no time for stupid things like arts and crafts. All I got is Mick, and I won't have even him if I have to go to Waco and live with Mom. Only there's no money to keep me here, so I got no choice.”

Ellie wondered if there would be sufficient funds if most of the Fullers' money didn't end up funding a bar tab at Lonesome's, but she kept that to herself. Nash's shoulders stiffened, and she knew he was harboring the same thought.

“If you think...” Gunner started, his own temper near boiling.

“Now, now,” Don cautioned Gunner. “Let's let Marny tell us what she has to say. You'll get your say, I promise you that, but it ain't gonna be now.”

“Go on, Marny,” Nash said in a low voice.

“I wasn't shooting at anything at first. I just wanted to make them run. The buffalo. Scare 'em like we did before. So at first I shot into the air over 'em.”

“Where a bullet could come down anywhere in the herd?” Gunner interjected, planting his hands on the table.

“Don't you go—” Jerry started, rising in his chair.

“Gunner!” Don cut in sharply. “I will only allow you to stay as long as you can keep your temper. Is that clear?”

Ellie put a steadying hand on Gunner's shoulder. It was a good thing she was here, hard as it was.

“Then that one wandered right into my sights. An easy shot, right there. And I thought of everything that had happened and I thought, it'd feel good. I'd get to fight back just this one time. It all came boiling right up and into my trigger finger, and when he turned and gave me a clear shot right into his shoulder. After that shot he turned right at me, like he wasn't really that hurt and was daring me to stand my ground. Like he was saying ‘Is that all you're gonna do?' or something. So I shot again into his chest. And when he went down, I didn't feel sad or nothing. There's almost a hundred of 'em anyways and only one of me. Felt like evening the score, I suppose.”

Ellie couldn't decide if the lifeless tone of Marny's voice made it better or worse. Marny clearly realized the futility of what she'd done to make her life better—she was smart enough to see that it had, in fact, made her life worse. But it was as if all the time and attention and experiences Ellie had poured into Marny's life hadn't made the slightest bit of difference. Knitting? What had she been thinking? How could she be foolish enough to believe that yarn and needles could make any impact on these girls? Six weeks of pretty hobbies and nice snacks offered no real solutions to a father who couldn't put down the bottle long enough to hold a job. The whole enterprise seemed unrealistic and pointless. Nash was right: today wasn't going to provide any answers, only more doubts and questions.

When they charged Marny Fuller with criminal mischief and set her court date, Ellie waited for a sense of justice to settle her spirit.

It never came.

Chapter Seventeen

E
llie sat on the fallen tree trunk overlooking the little creek that ran through the back of Blue Thorn land. She'd adopted Gunner's favorite thinking spot since her return to the ranch, and when Nash had kept his promise to stop by after the day's formal proceedings with Marny, she'd taken him out here in hopes the peace of the surroundings would shake off the frustrations of the day for both of them.

From here she could see the herd as it stood peacefully in the next pasture, oblivious to the battle that had been waged over them and through them. Ellie realized how much she loved this place as the pain of Marny's misguided attack sank a little deeper. “She's just a confused kid making a poor choice, but it gets to me so.”

Nash sat down beside her, his crisp uniform now replaced by a pair of worn jeans and mint-green shirt that made his striking hair stand out even more so. “It's tough to swallow someone setting out to hurt you. It sticks in your gut in the worst kind of way. Makes you second-guess everything.”

He understood. Nash understood about the wound Derek had left in a way few other people had. She'd felt discarded by Derek, and that rejection had pulled the rug out from under the confidence she had always relied upon so deeply.

Gunner understood the pain of rejection and the betrayal that came from being cheated on—after all, he'd been in the same boat years back. But his sympathy was undermined by his only barely hidden opinion that the bison yarn enterprise was just a coping mechanism. Belittling her dream had been another blow to her self-esteem. Making yarn wasn't just a distraction; it was the implementation of an idea she'd harbored for two years. It was her unique way to contribute to the success of the Blue Thorn, and Gunner's dismissal of that stung hard on her raw spirit. Did anyone really believe in her anymore?

Ellie felt the tears she'd been holding back all day get the best of her. “I thought Marny and I were finally connecting. I know she was prickly and resistant, but I could see that was just an act. Marny was really taking to the knitting, and I liked that.” After a pause and a wipe of her eyes, she added, “But I hadn't realized how much I liked that she was taking to me. Or at least, I thought she was.”

Nash sighed. “She
was
taking to you. I think you're the first woman to pay any real attention to her in a long time. You showed her a Blue Thorn that wasn't the big, bad enemy. You nurtured a talent, a piece of herself that wasn't about merely surviving. When that wouldn't hold up against what she'd been hearing from her dad, I think the confusion took over her good sense.”

It was funny, but Ellie's awareness snagged on Nash's use of the word
woman
. In countless small and unintentional ways, Ellie felt as though people still considered her a girl. Adele Buckton's granddaughter, Gunner and Luke's flighty sister, that nice girl from Texas at GoodEats. Being Derek Harding's fiancée had made her feel like a sophisticated city woman, the surprise contender able to settle down the bad-boy chef. And look how that had turned out. She wiped another streak of tears off one cheek with her shirtsleeve—an entirely too girl-like gesture, but she was fresh out of composure at the moment. Too tired of everything to be careful, she let her head fall on to Nash's shoulder.

He went perfectly still for a moment, and Ellie wondered if the gesture made him uncomfortable. After a moment, though, his hand came up to rest on her far shoulder, a careful hug of sorts. “I don't think she meant to hurt you or even your family. She meant to hurt the unfair world.”

“The unfair world,” Ellie echoed and sighed. “I can relate to that, I suppose.”

“I'm sorry you got hurt,” Nash said, his voice quiet but surprisingly strong. “I'm sorry for all of it. You're too fine a woman to be knocked down like this. It really is unfair.”

She angled her head to look up at him, and something warm and trustworthy hummed between them.
You would not hurt me
, she thought, although she had nowhere near enough history or perspective to say that for a fact. It was a feeling, a heart-deep recognition. Being with Derek always had her buzzing with excitement, but this was something truer, more solid. She felt something for this man. Was it just her grasping at the first solid thing in a flood of rejection? Could she tell true feelings anymore?

She straightened up to look right at him, hoping to find a clue in his gaze. He was staring at her, and she could see it: the warmth and caution warring in his eyes. So he did feel it, just as she did. And he was as frightened of it as she was. “Nash,” she said softly. “If you had met me in the middle of Los Angeles, would you have even noticed someone like me?”

She liked that he didn't just blurt out “Of course.” He gave his answer thought, understood it for the request it was. “I'd have noticed you anywhere.” There was a wonder in his voice that reached right down into the most broken corner of her heart. “I did notice,” he continued. “On that very first night.”

She felt her mouth curl up into a playful grin. “You noticed I was going eighty in a sixty-five zone.”

“No,” he said very softly, the single syllable saying a thousand things beyond the careful line they'd drawn between them. “That was just a fact. Numbers on a page. You, I noticed. Your eyes. The way you clung to the steering wheel, the way your hair was slipping out of the tangle you'd piled on top of your head.”

She'd looked a mess that night, and she knew it. “And maybe the pile of Kleenex and biscotti next to me?”

He laughed, but it was a warm, low sound she could feel in her chest. “Okay, that, too,” he said, eyes bright despite the growing darkness around them. “But they only added to the charm.”

They were too close, but she did not want to back away from him. “I'm a mess,” she nearly whispered, a last attempt to discount the pull she felt toward this man and how probably neither of them should trust it.

Nash brought one finger up to run along a stray strand of her hair. “Maybe we're all messes. You, me, Marny, Mick—all of us.”

Ellie let herself feel what his eyes did to her. The way he would not let more than one finger touch her hair. The way his other hand stayed so cautiously light on her shoulder. Ellie's heart warmed even more at the respect and honor his attitude conveyed. Derek had swung from wild infatuation to almost taking her for granted, and she'd convinced herself the wild ride was exciting. The truth was the wild ride had been exhausting. What she felt for this man was a deeper, steadier kind of care. She leaned in and heard his breath hitch as he put his hand out to stop her. She placed her hand over his and gently, cautiously kissed his cheek.

His whole body seemed to react. Something electric that blended among bliss and shock and release. Nash shifted and let his lips meet hers with an exquisite carefulness that made her feel anything but discarded. There were a million words to describe what that kiss felt like, but the one that struck her most deeply was
true
. Truth. She could still recognize it, still be touched by it.

He pulled back and looked at her with searching eyes, giving her every chance to stop what was happening between them. “I don't know how to be sure... It's all... I'm afraid I'll only hurt you,” he confessed.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing,” she replied as his thumb wiped a tear from her cheek. The gesture struck her with such reverence and tenderness that she kissed him. Deeply. Really, truly, deeply in a way that both healed her and terrified her at the same time. Everything was so fragile in the world, in danger of breaking apart at the slightest misstep.

He ended the kiss first, pulling just the smallest amount away, his eyes still closed as if he was dizzy from the contact. The smile that began in one corner of his mouth kindled in his eyes when he opened them. “Mayday,” he groaned softly, making a pun on the day's date. “Officer down. That is exactly why I ought not to kiss you,” he said in a husky voice. His hand returned to her cheek, his full hand now and not just one careful finger. “I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of wow.”

Ellie found his frayed composure an honest, endearing compliment. “So what do we do now?”

“We go slow. We let things sort out. We hang on to what we know and find out what else we need to know.” His fingers traced her chin and gently tipped it up toward him. “And one thing you need to know is that I will never hurt you. I will keep you safe, even from me.” He turned her shoulders so that she leaned against him and together they stared out at the pastures rather than at each other.
Only this far for now
, his gesture said, and as Ellie leaned back against this solid, steady man, she found his gesture even more romantic than the kiss.

Can I trust what I
'
m feeling? Is my heart strong enough yet to be safe?
Yet when she was with Nash, safe was exactly how she felt.

“I thought I ran here for no particular reason,” she offered. “I don't think I let myself realize how much I'd wanted to come back.”

“Didn't you want to come back before?”

“I think I felt like I couldn't be the person I'd become if I came back here. I'd just be young, silly Elllie with the pie-in-the-sky dreams. I think to Gunner—and maybe even to Gran—I still am that girl.”

“You're not a girl,” Nash said quietly. She could feel his breath catch behind her, and she gave quiet thanks that she could not be caught up in whatever she knew she would see in his eyes. “You are a beautiful, amazing woman.”

“I'm not so sure Gunner sees it that way.”

“Gunner thinks you don't see things through. He's afraid you'll launch this yarn thing and then leave him with the pieces.” Nash straightened, then turned her to face him again. “Is he right?”

“No.” Ellie took Nash's hands. “Well, if this were the old me—the me who left for Atlanta—then I suppose I'd have to say I don't know. But I'm different now. I stick with things now. Which is what makes it so hard. I want to stick with GoodEats and follow through on my commitments there, but I don't know if anyone will ever take me seriously after everything that's happened. And I want to stick with the Blue Thorn—” she raised one hand to touch his face “—and other things that are here. Only I'm not sure I can.”

Nash paused for a long moment. “You'll have to choose eventually.”

“I know.”

He clasped her hand and squeezed it tightly. “It doesn't have to be now. Maybe it shouldn't be now. Maybe when we're less of a mess, we'll know what to do.”

“About this?”

“About everything.”