“They don’t know. It doesn’t look good.”
“Ah, dammit, Celia. I’m so sorry. I know you spent a lot of time with her.”
She thought of Bonita’s sweet smile as she bustled around the kitchen. The way she twirled her dish towel and her dog, Smoochie, started dancing.
“She was so much like my mom. After Murray died, she was the only one who didn’t tell me to get over it. She was so sweet and motherly and I didn’t realize how much I missed that.” The last part came out on a sob.
Celia found herself hauled into Kyle’s arms. He let her curl up in a ball on his lap, and held her as she sobbed. Which made it worse because he had the ability to soothe her like no one else. How could this all be a lie?
She cried harder.
Her phone began to vibrate on the floor. She practically leaped out of Kyle’s arms to scoop it up.
Tanna. Again. She hastily wiped her face. “Hey, T. No. It’s okay.” Celia began to pace as she listened to Tanna’s nonsensical ramblings. “Of course. You don’t even have to ask. Seriously. It’s a three-hour drive. I’ll let you know as soon as I get there.” Celia couldn’t look at Kyle. “Kyle has this ranch thing down pat. He won’t miss his ranch hand at all.”
Kyle made a growling noise behind her.
“Cell service in Wyoming sucks, so don’t panic if you can’t get ahold of me, okay?”
She couldn’t afford to break down now. She had to focus on Tanna. Be strong for her friend. She grabbed her duffel bag from Bernice’s office and slipped her coat on. She felt Kyle’s burning gaze on her so she met it head-on.
“Goin’ someplace?”
“Texas.”
“You’re going to Texas now?” he said incredulously. “How are you getting there?”
“I’ll drive to Denver and fly to Dallas.”
“So you’re just gonna jump in your truck and leave without talking to me about any of this first?”
“Tanna needs me. Her family has been my family for the last four years. And there’s nothing for me here anymore.”
“Celia,” Kyle said sharply. “You can’t just drop everything and go to her.”
“Says who?”
“Me.”
“And who are you? Right. You’re the man who’s not really my husband. You’re the guy who kept me in the dark about our marriage being a lie.”
“It wasn’t a lie, goddammit. The way I feel about you isn’t a lie. What we had—what we still have—isn’t a lie either. You know that.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She raced out the door.
Two seconds later Kyle had caught her and latched onto her biceps. “It’s the only thing that matters. Look at me, Celia.”
She shook her head.
“Please.”
She might’ve snapped at him if he hadn’t softened his tone. Softened his hold. If he hadn’t said please. Against her better judgment, she looked into his eyes and saw the same misery she felt.
“These last three months have been the best of my life. I don’t want to lose you. Not because I need your ranching expertise but because I need you.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
He broke eye contact for a second. “Because you wouldn’t let me tell you before.”
“It just proves you didn’t try very hard to tell me anything, did you?” Celia jerked out of his hold and made tracks for her truck.
But Kyle didn’t let her get far. “Fine, you’re right. I’ve been a closemouthed jerk. I’ll come with you and we’ll talk about it on the way to Denver.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone and you have a ranch to run.”
He snarled, “I don’t give a shit about the ranch right now.”
She wheeled around after throwing her duffel bag in the back of her pickup. “Don’t ever say that. Those animals depend on you. They are your responsibility. This is your life now. You can’t just up and take off whenever the hell you want.”
“And you can?”
“It’s not my ranch, Kyle. I have no claim on it.” I have no claim on you. “And don’t worry about giving me any of the money you promised me when I agreed to stay married to you. I don’t want it.”
“You certainly don’t need it anymore, do you?” he shot back.
Celia stiffened.
“You wanna talk about a secret? How about the amount of money in your bank account? Was your claim that you were too broke to buy even a jug of juice a total lie?”
“No! I was that broke. I’ve been so broke for the last year I couldn’t have competed if it hadn’t been for Tanna.” Was that part of the reason she’d felt so obligated to go to Texas? Because she owed Tanna?
“Then where did you get that much money?” he demanded.
Tell him it’s none of his business. “From Abe and Hank. You got your inheritance and they gave me mine.”
“Were you going to tell me?”
Celia stared at him, refusing to feel guilty. “It’s pointless now, isn’t it? You have your ranch and I have the means to go to school. We both got what we wanted.”
“So we’re done? You don’t need my money, you don’t need me, and so you’re not sticking around? We played house for a few months and that’s it?”