When You Fall... (27 page)

“I used to wait for her after school, walk her home, anything to be near her. I knew I wanted to marry her the first time I saw her. But she loved my brother Raymond, your father, with the same intensity that I had for her,” he said, staring intently at her.

“Raymond was torn between what he was and what he wanted to be, which was anything but gay. A ‘homo’, he used to call himself. So he dated Linda, pretending to be something that he wasn’t. No one knew different but me. We were as close as two brothers could be, until he started to date your mother.

He got her pregnant, which caused a huge fight with our father, who demanded that he marry her. He refused, told him he was a homosexual and left town. For good, it turned out.

So, I married her instead, and loved her until she died. She did her best to love me, to make the best of a bad start. You were harder for me to get close to. Pride, I guess. And hurt. I didn’t try with you, not at first, not like I should have. And then you took to your great-grandfather, so I didn’t have to. Two peas in a pod you two were, and so much like my brother. He and your great-grandfather loved that ranch, anything that had to do with land and horses.

So I left, and you stayed with your great-grandfather,” he said, looking at her before he continued, as if coming out of a trance. Carter put her inhaler to her mouth and took another puff as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Why did you come for me, then, if you hated me so?”

“I don’t hate you. You take me back to a part of my life I’d like to forget,” he said, glancing away from her.

Carter stared out the window now. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Why didn’t you tell me before now? It would have explained so much. Why you left me when you moved here. Why you waited so long to send for me. Why you’ve never gone out of your way to make me feel like I belonged. You were always so much harder on me….” She stopped speaking and started crying in earnest now.

“When I met Gloria and her girls, she pushed me to come and get you. I’ve tried to put that behind me, Carter, to make sure you were taken care of just like my other girls,” he said. “I can’t let you have the property. I have to do what’s in the best interest of all of you—all my children—including you. It’s the reason why your great-grandfather included your sisters in the will. He valued family above all else. It was also his way of making something up to me. I knew what this place meant to you. I also knew you wouldn’t sell, and I had more than you to look after. So I didn’t tell you.”

It was quiet as her father continued to watch her.

“I’m sorry that you were hurt by this, by my silence. I only did what I thought was best. You all are mine. I adopted your sisters, and I have to look out for not just you, but them. All of you, equally,” he said.

Carter remained silent.

“Did you adopt me, too?” she asked.

“I didn’t have to. My name is already listed on your birth certificate as the father,” he said.

“But would you have if it hadn’t been?”

His silence to that question answered so much for her.

“I love that farm. You should not sell it. It’s history—our family’s history. We could find some other way to help the sisters,” she said, not giving up.

“I don’t need a lecture from you Carter. I know our family’s history, better than you ever will,” he said, sitting back in his chair, and back to his old self, all traces of softness gone. They stared at each other for a minute.

“Okay, just for grins. I’m a businessman. Let’s say I allow you to make the ranch profitable. What would you do? Where would you start?” he asked. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, pulling herself together.

“We have several options. We could turn it into a dude ranch, or a bed and breakfast. I could teach horseback riding. I’ve done some preliminary research. I’d be happy to put together a business plan for you.”

“What have you ever stuck with, Carter? College took an extra year while you tried to figure out which major you could finish. Bentley, you quit. And he was such a fine young man, only to later try and break up his wedding,” he said.

She looked away, hurt.

“Look Carter,” his voice softened. “This solution is best for everyone. Sell the ranch, and take the proceeds and travel. You don’t want to be an accountant? Fine. Take some time to figure out what you want to do.”

“I know what I want to do. It’s horses, the ranch. That’s it. That’s what I want to do. Just like your father, and his father before him. And my dad, I guess…” she said.

He blew out a breath. “Carter, the new property manager will be at the ranch by week’s end. Don’t get in the way. This
is the
best for everyone,” he said.

She stood up. “Thanks for meeting with me,” she said. She turned and walked out the door.

Alice looked up as she hurried out, the same sympathy from earlier in her eyes. Carter gave her a strained smile and left.

#

Friday night

It was dark now. After leaving her dad, she’d spent the day holed up in her old apartment, staring at the walls, licking her wounds, trying to take it all in.
He wasn’t her father
was all she was able to think about.

She’d turned in her notice. She was letting go of her apartment. She didn’t plan on coming back. An impulsive decision, something the old fly-away Carter—the before Ritalin, trying to fit in—would have done, but a decision that somehow felt right. She wasn’t going back to being the old accountant, either. Ever.

“Now what?” she asked into the silence. She had driven back to the ranch and had been sitting in her car parked outside the garage for a while. The initial push of determination that had propelled her to end her lease was gone. She was proud of herself though. One small step away from her need to please her dad. Oh, but he wasn’t her dad anymore. How long before she forgot that?

Some good had come from bad, she guessed. Her search for a man—the need to please her dad—had led her to Bentley’s wedding, and that had propelled her here, to her old home. Being here had rekindled her first love of horses and living here, which in turn had forced her to talk to her father. And while that conversation had not turned out as expected, it had been freeing in an odd way. From this day forward, she was charting her course.

She had two months to come up with a plan for her life. She was going to stay on at the ranch until it sold, new property manager or not. She wasn’t sure what she would do after that. Her long-term plan needed some work, but she would figure something out.

She should have come back here after college. There was nothing to be done about that now, so enough with thinking about it. Out, Carter! You’ve got chores to do, boys to feed. No sitting around here feeling sorry for yourself.

#

Rafael had given up on keeping busy, and checked his watch again. It was close to nine. She was in the barn he knew. He’d seen her walk over, had known she’d driven into Austin. She’d called this morning to tell him of her plans and asked him to stop by this evening to check on the animals, and feed them if she didn’t return in time to do it herself.

He hadn’t needed to. She was back already, and he stood arguing with himself about going over. If things hadn’t gone her way, she’d be sad, and a sad Carter was a dangerous place for him to be.

He’d felt bad about their argument. He missed her, her friendship, her laughter. He was turning into some lovesick sap.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her, as much as he tried. He wasn’t interested in anyone else, either. He knew that with complete certainty now. He couldn’t get past the smooth glide of her body over his, or the way he’d felt cuddled within her. He liked the hardworking, intelligent, sometimes a little insecure woman he knew her to be.

His chest still churned, conflicted and frustrated, and had taken those emotions out on her. He should have taken Frank’s advice and left her alone, let them sell, and move on. But he didn’t want her to move on.

He locked his front door, deciding to walk over. Maybe he could corral his mind and bring his lustful thoughts into submission before he encountered her.

He heard her talking to her horses as he reached the stable door and fought back the desire to chuckle. He opened the door, and she looked back at him with tears in her eyes. This was so not good.

“Didn’t go like you planned?” he asked, walking slowly to her.

“Nope. No,” she said, wiping her eyes.

“What happened?” he asked. She stepped into his arms, wrapped her arms around his waist and held on, starting in with her crying again. Years of pent-up hurt all came pouring out. She held on. He placed an arm around her waist, and the other hand went to her head, cradling it against his shoulder. He didn’t say a word, but just held her until her sobs subsided.

“So, what happened?” he asked when she’d grown quiet. He listened as what seemed like her life story poured out, minus the tears this time.

“That’s a lot to swallow,” he said, when she’d finished.

“Tell me about it. It explains so much, though,” she said, looking into his face. “
It wasn’t me,
is all I can think now. All that time I thought it was something I’d done or hadn’t done; and sometimes it was, but not always. All that wasted energy chasing after something he was never going to give me. He couldn’t give me. All that resentment I felt toward my stepsisters. What a waste of my time,” she said, leaning back into his chest.

“I could have been here, and if I’d listened to myself, I would have been. Nope. It was all about proving myself to him,” she said.

He leaned in and kissed her with a soft brush of his lips against hers. He couldn’t stop himself. He and crying Carter were joined at the hip. He surprised her and went back for more. She opened her mouth and met his tongue. Her arms surrounded his neck while his went to her waist, running up and down her back, pulling her in close.

He groaned, and kissed her more, his tongue dueling with hers now. He was needy tonight, and that surprised him. He was never needy. He pulled her shirt from her jeans, his hands landing on smooth skin underneath. She felt so soft, and his hands moved upward to her breasts. He ran his hands over them, hearing her familiar moan. He missed this. He pulled her shirt over her head, reached for and unsnapped her bra.

“You’re fast, and smooth,” she whispered when her lips were able to break free from his. He chuckled, but his hands were now at the closure of her jeans, and he had worked the button free. He was moving them down and off her legs.

“Step out of them,” he said. She complied, and he went back to kiss her again.

She felt his hand between her legs, zooming into her zone, forcing her legs open. He stopped abruptly, pulled his shirt over his head and unbuttoned his jeans, faster than she thought possible. He was searching in his pocket for his wallet.

“Fuck!” he said.

“What?”

“I don’t have a condom,” he said.

“I don’t have one, either.”

“That’s okay. We can work around it,” he said, looking around the stable. “Put your legs around my waist.” He walked them to the tack room, where there was a desk he knew of from past experience. It was locked.

“Where is the key?” He asked.

“In the house.”

He looked around and walked them into an empty stall. The floor was covered in a thick layer of wood shavings. He spotted a blanket over the back of the stall door.

“Good,” he said, carrying her so her back rested against the blanket-covered door. He kissed her again, locking her legs around his back, before his hand found her, spreading her legs around his waist, and slid his hands along her thighs. She moaned. He laughed, spreading the part of her he wanted to touch and rested himself against it. He moved his hips upward, very slowly rubbing. She moaned again, as her head fell to his shoulder.

She was a perfect fit for him, he thought, doing the rubbing thing again with his hips, still slowly gliding up and then down. His arms were wrapped around her—one at her waist, the other across her butt—to hold her still so that she would be able to feel him better. He continued to move, to rub against her, up and then down, slowly at first, until he had her situated so that she wouldn’t be able to move, immobile to anything but the glide of him, up and down.

“So good,” he believed he said. He wasn’t sure, because his energy was focused on that one part of her. He had picked up speed—wasn’t sure when—and a few minutes later, his hips were moving more piston-like now.

She moaned again. He did too, this time.

He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, squeezing her to him, holding her still, as he did all the work. He slowed down, and barely, yet barely enough, moved and stroked her, alternating between a slow and then fast rhythm. His breathing changed, and he stopped kissing her. His head was now tucked into her neck, like he could only concentrate now on making them come. She held on tight, her legs squeezed together to keep from falling, her arms around his neck, also wrapped tightly. He stood, her cradled in his arms, she holding on tight, both moaning, both pushing against each other as hard as they could, working toward what was coming.

“Almost,” she said, panting, looking down at his head. His hair was wavy and wet with sweat. “Oh… don’t stop! Almost, just a little bit more,” she said, moaning as her climax overtook her, groaning into his hair. He joined her, pushing her back against the door, holding her there, his mouth opening and closing. He groaned again as his climax continued, spilling onto her body.

She could feel him lying next to her stomach, pulsing now, firm and hard. His movements gradually slowed down until he finally stopped.

She moaned again as he continued to hold her tightly to him with this right arm, releasing his death grip on her butt as he caught his breath.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked, still working to catch his breath while setting her down on her feet. He stepped away for a second into the next stall, and came back with a bandanna in one hand and their clothes in the other. He handed her the bandana to clean herself before leaving again. He returned a moment later and grinned at the sight of her leaning against the wall, trying to wiggle into her jeans.