Rodeo Queen (32 page)

The mare grunted as she pulled the cinch tight. “Sorry, mama. Guess I’m just frustrated.” She dropped it back a bit. “Today we are going to do our own thing.” She patted the horse’s belly. “And you need the exercise.”

She led the horse to the pasture gate, locking it behind her and hopping into the saddle. As she allowed the mare to break into a jog, she relished her freedom. It had been almost a month since Kurt had disappeared, but the rodeo standings had him listed as winning the bull-riding event at a rodeo in Oklahoma, which was far enough away from California that she felt she could relax a little. Mike had already notified the authorities, but they all knew cowboys were constantly on the move, so his warrant was pointless unless he was pulled over at some point.

Just the thought of Kurt brought back the pain of losing Valentino. He was a one-in-a-million horse. Not just because she had poured her heart and soul into him for six years after watching his birth, but also because of his raw potential to be an all-around rodeo champion. Her one consolation was the thought of seeing his offspring born over the next year.

If I’m here that long.

Scott was due to return any day, and she knew the time had come that she had to tell him about the baby. She wasn’t showing yet, but she was starting to notice the changes in her body. Her breasts had grown and her jeans were getting tighter across the hips. She didn’t think he’d notice, but—as Jen constantly pointed out—Scott had a right to know. This was his baby, too, and even if he didn’t want to commit to her, family meant everything to him. He would want to take care of his child.

Sydney glanced around, surprised at how far she and Cougar had ridden. She had just crested the hills overlooking Scott’s cabin. Memories, both good and bad, teased at the corners of her mind. She forced herself to look away from the corral toward the cabin. It was closed up tightly since Scott had been on the road for almost a month, but it still invited her, tempting her with images of Scott cooking dinner and telling her about his childhood. The memories of making love to him, of lying in his arms.

She rode toward the barn, slipping the tack from Cougar’s back and turning her into one of the stalls before giving her some grain and checking to make sure the automatic water supply was on. Beside the tack room she caught sight of Valentino’s saddle and bridle, and tears burned the back of her eyes.

This isn’t fair. To lose Valentino and Scott?

She wanted to throw something, to release her fury at the injustice of the situation, but she knew that nothing was going to cure her grief for either. She had lost Valentino in an act of violent brutality, and she had lost Scott due to Liz’s emotional brutality. She found herself walking along the path beside the house as her hand slid across her lower abdomen. She may have lost Scott, but she would always have a part of the love she felt for him. Sydney feared that telling him was going to break her heart again. She wasn’t sure what she expected his reaction to be, but she knew that unless some sort of miracle happened, it wasn’t going to end well for her heart.

She glanced up at the gurgling water falling from the makeshift waterfall. It showed signs of needing attention—leaves had fallen to the bottom along with some dirt—but it only served to make it fit the surroundings even more. She stared at the ripples that formed as a single leaf fell from a tree above, twirling like a dancer as it hit the surface. The memory of their playfulness haunted her, making her wish she had tried harder to reach into the depths of his soul, to find the vulnerability in him that would allow him to love her in return. What had she been lacking? How could she have been so wrong about what she thought she had read in his dark, smoldering gaze as they made love?

She had heard Scott’s side of the story from several sources she trusted, and she believed them. Liz was manipulative, but even that didn’t explain why he hadn’t sought her out to explain himself. Or why he had yet to confess any sort of feelings for her.

But Scott was so closed off to the idea of love that, even if he wanted to love her, she knew he wouldn’t risk his heart again. And if she couldn’t have his whole heart, if their child couldn’t have his entire heart, what hope was there? She needed to know he was as invested as she was before she could tell him about the baby. Anything less and he’d feel like she was trapping him, just as Liz tried to do. She hadn’t wanted the baby to sway his feelings for her—or his lack of them. Hopelessness encircled her heart, squeezing painfully. She had to stop this.

Sydney heard footsteps behind her. Her heart skipped a beat and her body filled with heat. She probably should have been afraid, but it was as if she had conjured him by her thoughts alone. She wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t just a figment of her imagination. She was afraid to speak, that it might cause him to disappear.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Sydney could barely catch her breath. She hadn’t seen him for a month, other than sleeping in Liz’s arms. He looked tired, lines creasing the corners of his eyes and several days’ beard growth along his jaw. But he had never looked more tempting to her. Her fingers itched to touch his face, her lips to kiss him. Her heart raced in her chest and she tried to breathe normally.

“Sydney, we need to talk.” She wanted to answer him, but she couldn’t trust her voice. Tears misted her eyes and her hand covered her stomach. “Okay,” he continued. “Then I’ll talk.”

Scott covered the ground separating them. He met her gaze, his eyes black as the midnight sky and unreadable. “What you saw that night was a scheme Liz concocted. She was trying to drive us apart so that she could somehow get her hands on the ranch.” He laughed bitterly and ran a hand through his mussed hair. “Like that was ever going to happen.”

Sydney swallowed the lump in her throat and wanted to cry out to him that she didn’t care about Liz, or Kurt, that she simply wanted to hear him say that he loved her. Instead she remained silent. Even the birds in the pines had quieted as if holding their breath to hear what Scott had to say next.

“I didn’t make love to her. I don’t love Liz. I guess I never really did.”

Please, Scott. Tell me how you feel about me.

“Please say something, Sydney.”

She stared down at the water, wishing her thoughts could pour out like the water on the rocks. He wasn’t going to say it. Nothing had changed. His emotions were still as hidden and shut off as they ever had been.

“Look at me, princess.”

Slowly, Sydney turned to face him. He cupped her face and ran his thumb against her cheek. He brushed a curl back from her temple. “I can’t stand this wall that’s between us. I want things to be the way they were.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she inhaled the scent of him. She wanted to melt into his arms, to give in to the poor imitation of love he was offering. She pressed against his chest, feeling more confident as she did.

“And how is that, Scott?” She took another step away from him, turning to look at the water again. “I follow you from rodeo to rodeo, warming your bed when you see fit.”

“I have never felt like this with anyone before.”

She spun on him, fire burning within her. “Tell me, Scott. What
do
you feel?”

Scott stepped back from her. “You know how I feel.”

She could almost feel him retreating behind the protective barrier he’d build around his heart. “No, I don’t. Your feelings are something you’ve kept hidden very well. I have given you everything I have: my body, my soul, and my heart. But I have to retain some dignity.” Sydney brushed past him, heading toward the barn.

Scott caught up to her and reached for her arm, spinning her to face him. “I can’t promise you something I don’t have to give. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone, but I won’t lie to you and profess an undying love that I don’t believe in.”

Sydney sighed and led Cougar out of the stall. “Just what I’ve always wanted to hear . . . ‘I care about you.’ Is that something along the lines of ‘like-liking’ me, Scott?” She couldn’t help the sarcastic tone. How could he possibly expect her to stay?

“I believed in love when I was a kid, and in return I got a slap in the face. Love is a fantasy, something to dream about when you feel like life is throwing you a curveball. There is no such thing.”

Sydney pulled on the cinch and slipped the bridle over the mare’s head. “Then I guess we have nothing else to talk about.” She mounted the mare, her heart shattering, the pieces coming to rest where another heart beat within her. She couldn’t tell him about the baby right now, not like this. But she would tell him before she left.

“Sydney.”

“Goodbye, Scott.” She looked down at him and a tear slipped down her cheek. “I love you, whether you believe in it or not.”

S
COTT WATCHED AS
Sydney kicked the mare into a gallop and rode away. He wanted to follow her, to make her see that he couldn’t lose her, but his pride held him fast. He had given her all he could. He had searched her out, tried to explain, but she had chosen to walk out of his life. Scott looked at Noble tied to the side of the horse trailer and led him into the barn, tossing him alfalfa before grabbing his clothes from the truck.

He’d barely arrived home when he’d received a call from Mike that they couldn’t find Sydney. He wasn’t sure why he’d thought to look down the path; perhaps it was wishful thinking. But he hated that he was the one causing her pain. He tossed his bag onto the couch and headed for the cool beer he knew was waiting in the refrigerator, momentarily craving something stronger. He twisted off the bottle cap and tossed it into the sink, watching it slip down the drain.

“Just like everything else,” he muttered, reaching into the disposal to retrieve the metal.

How was he going to work with her on a daily basis? How was he going to spend weeks on end with her, watching her working with the rest of the crew, watching rodeo contestants flirting with her? He tipped back the beer and drained the bottle. This was why he hadn’t wanted Mike to hire her in the first place, he reminded himself as he reached for another. He took the beer with him, downing half of it as he turned on the shower, searching for a towel.

Tonight I am going to get rip-roaring drunk and not think about her.

Scott knew he was lying to himself but hoped the alcohol could induce amnesia, if only for one night. He polished off the second beer and stepped into the shower, the hot spray coursing over his head and shoulders. He had no idea how long he stood there, trying to let the water wash away the last few months, when he heard his cell phone ring.

He sighed and shut off the water, reaching for the towel and wrapping it around his hips. He reached the phone just as it went to voicemail. He pushed the button to redial his sister when it rang again in his hand.

“Yeah.” He didn’t feel like talking to anyone. The whiskey bottle in the cupboard was calling his name. Only liquor could dull the memories of Sydney’s body against his better than the beer or hot water had.

“Why is Sydney packing?”

“Ask her, Jen.” He pulled the phone from his ear, prepared to hang up.

“Don’t you dare hang up on me, Scott,” she warned.

“Look, I tried to get her to stay.” He pushed the button to transfer her to the speaker on the phone while he dressed in loose jeans.

Down the hall, someone pounded on his front door.

“What the hell?” He carried the phone into the living room with him and saw his brother through the glass in the door. “I explained what happened and she left me.” Scott rolled his eyes and opened the door. “What do you want?”

“What did you say to Sydney?”

“Why don’t the two of you just butt out and let me deal with this?”

“Jen?” Derek asked, jerking his chin at the phone. Scott nodded. “Jen, I’ve got this.”

“Right.” Jen’s sarcasm transferred through the phone. “The same way you always do. I don’t think a fist fight will help anyone right now.”

“Does it matter that I don’t feel like fighting with either of you?”

“I’m not here to fight at all,” Derek said. “I came to talk some sense into you. Sydney loves you. Do you have any idea what you’re walking away from?”

Scott narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Yes, I do. And I didn’t do the walking away. She did.”

“Did you tell her?” Derek noticed that Jen had grown quiet on the phone but hadn’t left the conversation.

“Tell her what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Scott,” Jen piped in. “You have never told her that you love her, have you?”

“She knows.”

Derek shoved Scott backwards, knocking him off guard, and he hit the kitchen counter. “She doesn’t know, you idiot. If she did, she wouldn’t be packing to leave now.”

Scott glared at his brother and reached into the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He didn’t care that the liquor was hot; he poured two fingers worth into the glass, downing it before pouring more. “You guys are ridiculous. I’m glad you and Clay have each other, Jen, but there is no such thing as love. It’s hunger, lust, desire . . . whatever you want to call it and nothing more. Love is for suckers and teenagers.”

“Sydney isn’t Liz, Scott.” Derek looked at his brother with disgust. “The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”

“None of this is any of your business.” Scott stood toe-to-toe with his brother, daring him to make a move.

Derek shrugged. “By all means, throw away your chance with her. I’d love to pick up the pieces. I won’t let my stubborn pride get in the way. I’d be thrilled to marry her.”

Scott knew his brother was trying to bait him, but he wasn’t about to take the bait. “She doesn’t love you.”

“And she wouldn’t want you to raise your brother’s child.” Jen’s words were directed at Derek but the blow knocked the wind out of Scott.

“What did you say?” Scott backed into the kitchen counter.

“What?” Derek looked at the phone as if it had grown horns.

“Scott,” Jen pressed. “Go talk to her. Tell her that you love her. We all see it whenever you’re with her, why can’t you? I know you’re afraid to feel vulnerable again, everyone is, but you can’t let her go. Not like this.”