Читать книгу A Little Bit Country: A Little Bit Country / Blackberry Summer - RaeAnne Thayne - Страница 17

Eleven

Clay draped his arm over Rorie’s shoulders and joined her in gazing up at the sky. Neither spoke for several minutes, as though they feared words would destroy the tranquil mood. Rorie stared, transfixed by the glittering display. Like her love for this man, the stars would remain forever distant, unattainable, but certain and unchanging.

A ragged sigh escaped her lips. “All my life I’ve believed that everything that befalls us has a purpose.”

“I’ve always thought that, too,” Clay whispered.

“Everything in life is deliberate.”

“Our final hours together you’re going to become philosophical?” He rested his chin on her head, gently ruffling her hair. “Are you sad, Rorie?”

“Oh, no,” she denied quickly. “I can’t be... I feel strange, but I don’t know if I can find the words to explain it. I’m leaving tomorrow and I realize we’ll probably never see each other again. I have no regrets—not a single one—and yet I think my heart is breaking.”

His hand tightened on her shoulder in silent protest as if he found the idea of relinquishing her more than he could bear.

“We can’t defy reality,” she told him. “Nothing’s going to change in the next few hours. The water pump on the car will be replaced, and I’ll go back to my life. The way you’ll go back to yours.”

“I have this gut feeling there’s going to be a hole the size of the Grand Canyon in mine the minute you drive away.” He dropped his arm and moved away from her. His eyes held a weary sadness, but Rorie found an acceptance there, too.

“I’m an uncomplicated man,” he said evenly. “I’m probably nothing like the sophisticated man you’re dating in San Francisco.”

Her thoughts flew to Dan, so cosmopolitan and...superficial, and she recognized the truth in Clay’s words. The two men were poles apart. Dan’s interests revolved around his career and his car, but he was genuinely kind, and it was that quality that had attracted Rorie.

“Elk Run’s given me a good deal of satisfaction over the years. My life’s work is here and, God willing, some day my son will carry on the breeding programs I’ve started. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of has always been within my grasp.” He paused, holding in a long sigh and releasing it slowly. “And then you came,” he whispered, and a brief smile crossed his lips, “and, within a matter of days, I’m reeling from the effects. Suddenly I’m left doubting what’s really important in my life.”

Rorie lowered her eyes. “Who’d have believed a silly water pump would be responsible for all this wretched soul-searching?”

“I’ve always been the type of man who’s known what he wants, but you make me feel like a schoolboy no older than Skip. I don’t know what to do anymore, Rorie. In a few hours, you’ll be leaving and part of me says if you do, I’ll regret it the rest of my life.”

“I can’t stay.” Their little dinner party had shown her how different their worlds actually were. She wouldn’t fit into his life and he’d be an alien in hers. But Kate... Kate belonged to his world.

Clay rubbed his hands across his eyes and harshly drew in a breath. “I know you feel you should leave, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“The pull to stay is there for me, too,” she whispered.

“And it’s tearing both of us apart.”

Rorie shook her head. “Don’t you see? So much good has come out of meeting you, Clay.” Her voice was strong. She had to make him understand that she’d always be grateful for the things he’d taught her. “In some ways I grew up tonight. I feel I’m doing what’s right for both of us, although it’s more painful than anything I’ve ever known.”

He looked at her with such undisguised love that she ached.

“Let me hold you once more,” he said softly. “Give me that, at least.”

Rorie shook her head. “I can’t...I’m sorry, Clay, but this is how it has to be with us. I’m so weak where you’re concerned. I couldn’t bear to let you touch me now and then leave tomorrow.”

His eyes drifted shut as he yielded to her wisdom. “I don’t know that I could, either.”

They were only a few feet apart, but it seemed vast worlds stood between them.

“More than anything I want you to remember me fondly, without any bitterness,” Rorie told him, discovering as she spoke the words how much she meant them.

Clay nodded. “Be happy, Rorie, for my sake.”

Rorie realized that contentment would be a long time coming without this man in her life, but she would find it eventually. She prayed that he’d marry Kate the way he’d planned. The other woman was the perfect wife for him—unlike herself. A thread of agony twisted around Rorie’s heart.

She turned to leave him, afraid she’d dissolve into tears if she remained much longer. “Goodbye, Clay.”

“Goodbye, Rorie.”

She rushed past him and hurried up the stairs.

* * *

The following morning, both Clay and Skip had left the house by the time Rorie entered the kitchen.

“Good morning, Mary,” she said with a note of false cheer in her voice. “How did the visit with your sister go?”

“Fine.”

Rorie stepped around the housekeeper to reach the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. A plume of steam rose enticingly to her nostrils and she took a tentative sip.

“I found those pizza boxes you were trying so hard to hide from me,” Mary grumbled as she wiped her hands on her apron. “You fed these good men restaurant pizza?”

Unable to stop herself, Rorie chuckled at the housekeeper’s indignation. “Guilty as charged. Mary, you should’ve known better than to leave their fate in my evil hands.”

“Near as I can figure, the closest pizza parlour is a half-hour away. Did you drive over and get it yourself or did you send Skip?”

“Actually he volunteered,” she admitted reluctantly. “Dinner didn’t exactly turn out the way I’d hoped.”

The housekeeper snickered. “I should’ve guessed. You city slickers don’t know nothing about serving up a decent meal to your menfolk.”

Rorie gave a hefty sigh of agreement. “The only thing for me to do is stay on another couple of months and have you teach me.” As she expected, the housekeeper opened her mouth to protest. “Unfortunately,” Rorie continued, cutting Mary off before she could launch into her arguments, “I’m hoping to be gone by this afternoon.”

Mary’s response was a surprise. The older woman’s expression grew troubled and intense.

“I suspected you’d be going soon enough,” she said in a tight voice, pulling out a chair. She sat down heavily and brushed wisps of gray hair from her forehead. Her weathered face was thoughtful. “It’s for the best, you know.”

“I knew you’d be glad to get rid of me.”

Mary shrugged. “It’s other reasons that make it right for you to leave. You know what I’m talking about, even if you don’t want to admit it to me. As a person you tend to grow on folks. Like I said before, for a city girl, you ain’t half bad.”

Rorie took a banana from the fruit bowl in the center of the table. “For a stud farm, stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, this place isn’t half bad, either,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, which had taken an unexpected turn toward the serious. “The people are friendly and the apple pie’s been exceptional.”

Mary ignored the compliment on her pie. “By people, I suppose you’re referring to Clay. You’re going to miss him, aren’t you, girl?”

The banana found its way back into the bowl and with it went her cheerful facade. “Yes. I’ll miss Clay.”

The older woman’s frown deepened. “From the things I’ve been noticing, he’s going to be yearning for you, as well. But it’s for the best,” she said again. “For the best.”

Rorie nodded and her voice wavered. “Yes...but it isn’t easy.”

The housekeeper gave her a lopsided smile as she gently patted Rorie’s hand. “I know that, too, but you’re doing the right thing. You’ll forget him soon enough.”

A strong protest rose in her breast, closing off her throat. She wouldn’t forget Clay. Ever. How could she forget the man who had so unselfishly taught her such valuable lessons about life and love? Lessons about herself.

“Kate Logan’s the right woman for Clay,” Mary said abruptly.

Those few words cut Rorie to the quick. Hearing another person voice the truth made it almost unbearably painful.

“I...hope they’re very happy.”

“Kate loves him. She has from the time she was knee-high to a June bug. And there’s something you don’t know. Years back, when Clay was in college, he fell in love with a girl from Seattle. She’d been born and raised in the city. Clay loved her, wanted to marry her, even brought her to Elk Run to meet the family. She stayed a couple of days, and the whole time, she was as restless as water on a hot skillet. Apparently she had words with Clay because the next thing I knew, she’d packed her bags and headed home. Clay never said much about her after that, but she hurt him bad. It wasn’t until Kate got home from college that Clay thought seriously about marriage again.”

Mary’s story explained a lot about Clay.

“Now, I know I’m just an old woman who likes her soaps and Saturday-night bingo. Most folks don’t think I’ve got a lick of sense, and that’s all right. What others choose to assume don’t bother me much.” She paused, and shook her head. “But Kate Logan’s about the kindest, dearest person this town has ever seen. People like her—they can’t help themselves. She’s always got a kind word and there’s no one in this world she’s too good for. She cares about the people in this community. Those kids she teaches over at the grade school love her like nothing you’ve ever seen. And she loves them. When it came to building that fancy library, it was Kate who worked so hard convincing folks they’d be doing what was best for Nightingale by voting for that bond issue.”

Rorie kept her face averted. She didn’t need Mary to tell her Kate was a good person; she’d seen the evidence of it herself.

“What most folks don’t know is that Kate’s seen plenty of pain in her own life. She watched her mother die a slow death from cancer. Took care of her most of the time herself, nursing Nora when she should’ve been off at college having fun like other nineteen-year-olds. Her family needed her and she was there. Kate gave old man Logan a reason to go on living when Nora passed away. She still lives with him, and it’s long past time for her to be a carefree adult on her own. Kate’s a good person clean through.” Mary hesitated, then drew in a solemn breath. “Now, you may think I’m nothing but a meddling old fool. But I’m saying it’s a good thing you’re leaving Elk Run before you break that girl’s heart. She’s got a chance now for some happiness, and God knows she deserves it. If she loses Clay, I can tell you it’d break her heart. She’s too good to have that happen to her over some fancy city girl who’s only passing through.”

Rorie winced at the way Mary described her.

“I’m a plain talker,” Mary said on the end of an abrupt laugh. “Always have been, always will be. Knowing Clay—and I do, as well as his mother did, God rest her soul—he’ll pine for you awhile, but eventually everything will fall back into place. The way it was before you arrived.”

Tears stung Rorie’s eyes. She felt miserable as it was, and Mary wasn’t helping. She’d already assured the housekeeper she was leaving, but Mary apparently wanted to be damn sure she didn’t change her mind. The woman didn’t understand...but then again, maybe she did.

“Have you ever been in love, Mary?”

“Once,” came the curt reply. “Hurt so much the first time I never chanced it again.”

“Are you sorry you lived your life alone now?” That was what Rorie saw for herself. Oh, she knew she was being melodramatic and over-emotional, but she couldn’t imagine loving any man as much as she did Clay.

Mary lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Some days I have plenty of regrets, but then on others it ain’t so bad. I’d like to have had a child, but God saw to it that I was around when Clay and Skip needed someone.... That made up for what I missed.”

“They consider you family.”

“Yeah, I suppose they do.” Mary pushed out her chair and stood up. “Well, I better get back to work. Those men expect a decent lunch. I imagine they’re near starved after the dinner you fed them last night.”

Despite her heartache, Rorie smiled and finished her coffee. “And I’d better get upstairs and pack the rest of my things. The mechanic said my car would be ready around noon.”

On her way to the bedroom, Rorie paused at the framed photograph of Clay’s parents that sat on the piano. She’d passed it a number of times and had given it little more than a fleeting glance. Now it suddenly demanded her attention, and she stopped in front of it.

A tremor went through her hand as she lightly ran her finger along the brass frame. Clay’s mother smiled serenely into the camera, her gray eyes so like her son’s that Rorie felt a knot in her stomach. Those same eyes seemed to reach across eternity and call out to Rorie, plead with her. Rorie’s own eyes narrowed, certain her imagination was playing havoc with her troubled mind. She focused her attention on the woman’s hair. That, too, was the same dark shade as Clay’s, brushed away from her face in a carefully styled chignon. Clay had never mentioned his parents to her, not once, but studying the photograph Rorie knew intuitively that he’d shared a close relationship with his mother. Blue wandered out from the kitchen and stood at Rorie’s side as though offering consolation. Grateful, she bent down to pet him.

Looking back at the photograph, Rorie noted that Skip resembled his father, with the same dancing blue eyes that revealed more than a hint of devilry.

Rorie continued to study both parents, but it was Clay’s mother who captured her attention over and over again.

The phone ringing in the distance startled her, and her wrist was shaking when she set the picture back on the piano.

“Phone’s for you,” Mary shouted from the kitchen.

Rorie assumed it was George at the repair shop in Riversdale; she’d been waiting all morning to hear from him.

“Hello,” she said, her fingers closing tightly around the receiver. Her biggest fear was that something had happened to delay her departure a second time.

“Miss Campbell,” said the mechanic, “everything’s fine. I got that part in and working for you without a hitch.”

“Thank God,” she murmured. Her hold on the telephone receiver relaxed, a little.

“I’ve got a man I could spare if you’d like to have your car delivered to Elk Run. But you’ve got to understand fifty miles is a fair distance and I’m afraid I’ll have to charge you extra for it.”

“That’s fine,” Rorie said eagerly, not even bothering to ask the amount. “How soon can he be here?”