Читать книгу The Soldier's Sweetheart - Soraya Lane - Страница 9

NATE buried his hands deep in his pockets to avoid doing anything with them he’d regret. What was he thinking, reaching out to Sarah like that? He hadn’t just come home to his sweetheart and he needed to remember it. But the pull toward the woman beside him was almost impossible to ignore.

“I’m sorry if I ruined your night.”

Sarah’s softly spoken words made Nate stop walking. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She wrapped her arms around herself, like she was trying to shield her body from danger. “When I arrived and saw you there, I don’t know … it just felt like I was intruding. And I know you haven’t seen much of your family since you’ve been home.”

Nate started to walk again. He didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to talk about his feelings, or why he was so distant with his family, or how conflicted he felt being here with her right now. Or why it somehow felt right, either.

Because the truth was he was still angry with Sarah. Even though he knew he’d played his part in what had happened, that he’d been the one to end things, she’d taken a piece of him when she’d married Todd.

Just like Jimmy’s death had taken a piece of him, and his parents’ dying had smashed away another chunk that would never grow back.

He was a broken man and he knew it.

“No one seems to realize what I’ve been through, Sarah, and that makes it kind of hard to relax around here.” Nate looked away, wondering if he shouldn’t have been quite so honest. “I don’t feel like I fit in anymore, that I’m part of anything that’s happening here now.”

Sarah didn’t give him time to think about it. She was at his side, hand clasped around his wrist, tugging him around. Not letting him continue.

“How can they know anything about what you’ve been through if you don’t explain that to them?” she asked, her voice low.

He wished he wasn’t staring into her eyes, wished he could ignore what she was saying and walk away, but he couldn’t.

“Sarah, I can’t go there,” he told her, his voice rough with the honesty of his words.

She didn’t break eye contact with him. “Can’t or won’t, Nate?”

Nate faltered, a lump of emotion forming in his throat and threatening to choke him. “What happened over there, what I’ve …” He stopped talking as abruptly as he’d started. “I’m sorry.”

Nate walked away, because he didn’t need anyone seeing him like this, seeing the way he couldn’t deal with what was going on in his own head. Didn’t need to relive what had happened, not again. He already did that every time he shut his eyes.

“Nate.” Sarah was in front of him again, blocking his path, the gentle way she said his name making him turn.

Then she did something he really hadn’t seen coming. She thrust her arms around his neck, pulling him in tight for an embrace he was powerless to evade. Held him like he hadn’t been held since the last time he’d seen his mom, the kind of hug that forced his body to relax and be comforted. The kind of hug that would once have made him feel loved.

“You’re home, Nate,” she whispered in his ear. “You’re home and you need to remember that. Home is where the heart is, and that’s right here on this ranch with your family.”

He didn’t know if it was the smell or feel of Sarah in his arms, the safeness of being cocooned by her, or just being held by another human being, but Nate was fighting a losing battle.

When she tipped back, looked up at him for the briefest of moments before pulling away, he did something he’d thought about for longer than he could remember. Something that he’d never forgotten, a memory he’d never let go.

Nate reached out to stop her, his palm tucked to the back of her head, holding her in place. And then he kissed her. Brought his mouth toward hers before she had a second to see it coming, to resist him, and touched his lips to hers.

Sarah sighed into his mouth, slipped her hands around his waist, pillowy lips brushing like the softest of feathers against his. Mouths grazing together in the most gentle, intimate of dances. Until she pulled back like she’d only just realized what had happened.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” Sarah said in a low voice, slowly removing her hands from his waist and crossing her arms across her chest instead.

Nate swallowed hard and looked down at Sarah. She looked tiny yet brave at the same time, stronger than he’d probably ever given her credit for. He wished he could snatch her hands back and plant them on his hips again, but he fisted his own hands at his sides instead.

“For the record, I don’t forgive you, either.” And he didn’t, it was true. Forgiving her or not had nothing to do with kissing her. That was something he’d needed to do, and it had sure taken his mind off everything else that had been troubling him.

“I think we should head back,” Sarah told him, angling with her head over at Jess’s house. They had walked a short distance away, but even in the pitch-black the house was clearly visible. Lights illuminating every window, glowing as if inviting them to enter.

It was the sort of homely scene that should have tugged him back into the life he’d once yearned for. The life that he’d imagined going back to once he’d served his country, before everything had changed forever.

Nate tried not to let his pain show as he walked beside Sarah. Sometimes it was the pain within him, the pressure in his head, the stabbing betrayal and loneliness that constantly hurt him, far worse than the physical pain in his leg.

“So are you here riding again tomorrow?” Nate asked Sarah, needing to break the silence more to get away from his own thoughts than to fill the air around them with words.

Sarah smiled, shyly, and he knew she’d be blushing if only he could see her cheeks. It was dark now, but still light enough that he could make out her features.

“It’s summer vacation for me, so I’ll be riding as much as I can over the next month.”

Nate nodded. “You love being a teacher as much as you always thought you would?” He’d always remember how much Sarah loved children, how she’d always wanted to be a teacher in their small town, taking all the younger ones under her wing. Children had always flocked to her like a honeybee to pollen.

“It can be hard work, probably harder than I ever thought it would be, but there’s nothing more rewarding that I could imagine doing,” she told him, walking faster than before.

Nate laughed, finally starting to relax in her company. “All you’re missing are the four kids of your own, right?”

The smile fell from his face as Sarah’s arms wrapped around herself again. She didn’t make eye contact, acted like she hadn’t even heard what he’d said, or like he’d said something he should have kept to himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said, running a hand back and forth through his hair. What the hell had he been thinking, saying something like that? “Just because Todd wasn’t the one doesn’t mean you won’t have everything you dreamed of one day, Sarah.”

She faced him, stopping just ahead of him, a tight smile greeting him as he watched her face. “Not everything turns out the way we want, Nate. We both know that.”

Nate tried not to grind his teeth, tried to ignore the discomfort of what they were suddenly talking about even as it drilled through his body. Once, there were so many things he’d have said to Sarah. So many things he would have apologized for, promises he could have made. But not now. Once, he’d have known why his words had stung her like they so obviously had, too.

“You’re right,” he said, instead of any of the other thoughts going through his mind. “It was nice seeing you again, Sarah. If you wouldn’t mind telling Jess for me that I’ve called it a night, I’d really appreciate it.”

He continued to stare at her face, seeing the hurt that he was powerless to do anything about.

“Goodbye, Nate.” Sarah shook her head, just the barest of motions, but she didn’t turn away.

But he did. Before she told him something he didn’t want to hear, or he said something he’d only regret later. Nate walked away, knowing that he needed to get back to the guesthouse, to be alone to deal with what he needed to think through.

Alone.

He repeated the word in his mind until he heard Sarah walk away, too.

Sarah fiddled with her keys. She’d been jangling them in her palm since she’d left the house, and now she was standing beside her car trying to make a decision she shouldn’t even be considering.

What was it about Nate Calhoun that still made her twist up in knots like this?

Sarah sighed and decided to drive as close as she could to his place and walk the rest of the way. She had a piece of cake wrapped up that she wanted to give him, since he’d missed dessert, and for some reason she wasn’t sure that he was in the right frame of mind to be left alone.

He wasn’t her problem anymore, but she still wanted to help. Because she knew what it was like to be left, to deal with secrets and feel like there was no one in the world who would understand. She needed to keep swallowing her anger, wait until the right time to confront him with her pain, with her questions. And that time wasn’t now.

Sarah parked her car less than a minute’s drive away from Jess’s place, and walked quickly toward the small house Nate was staying in. There was only one room illuminated in the dark, the window coverings pulled to mute the light, but still enough for her to see the way.

What would he be doing? Watching television, reading a book, staring into space?

Sarah summoned all the courage she could muster and raised her hand to knock on the door. There was no answer. She tapped again, harder this time, wishing the door wasn’t made of solid timber so she could look in and see if he was there. Peer in and make sure she’d made the right decision in coming here instead of driving to the safety of home. As far away from Nate as possible.

She went to knock again before the door was flung back, nearly sending her spiraling forward into the house.

“What do you …?” Nate’s angry question trailed off when he saw her.

Sarah stared at him, unsure what to say. He’d been crying. Nate had been crying. The same Nate who she’d never seen cry in all the years she’d known him. His eyes were bloodshot as he swiped his face with the back of his hand, trying to remove any evidence of the tears she’d seen sticking to his skin.

“Nate, if this is a bad time …” she managed.

His dark laugh sent shivers across her skin. “It’s always a bad time for me lately.”

She wondered who he’d thought it was when he’d opened the door as angry as a disturbed, hibernating bear. But she knew that if he truly wanted to be left alone, if he enjoyed being locked away from the world as much as he was pretending to, then he never would have answered the door.