Page 100 of Ride Me Cowboy

“Damn it, Cole. You were the one who said I should tell her. I shouldn’t have let you get in my head.”

I ignore the anger in her voice. She’s scared and emotional; she’s lashing out at me. Ultimately, this was Beth’s choice, and I think she made the decision based on what she needed to do, in that moment. What she needed to do, in order to find real freedom from him.

“You were never going to be able to live your own life, without them knowing,” I say, gently. “You would always have had to turn up to events with them, to be the perfect daughter-in-law, to remember him fondly, to join in their reminiscing, to feel like you were playing a part, every day for the rest of your life. I know it hurts like hell right now, but this is another step you’re taking toward getting away from all that.”

She bites into her lower lip, eyes haunted when they latch to mine.

I can tell how torn up she is, how scrambled her emotions, so I need to offer her steadiness and support.

“I don’t think you’d ever have been able to go back to New York, knowing that they still believed you had a perfect marriage.”

“She was devastated.”

“That’s not your fault.”

She looks dubious.

“You are the victim here, but not the only victim. Christopher hurt all of you by acting how he did, by doing what he did.”

She sniffs. Jesus, she’s shaking all over. I drop my hands to her hips. “Beth, darlin’, you did the right thing. She might never believe you, but at least she won’t expect you to be someone you’re not. You did what you needed, and I’m so proud of you. Now, when you go home, you won’t have to worry about play-acting anymore. You can just be yourself.”

Beth

By ‘home’, he means New York.

He’s talking about a time when I leave Coyote Creek Ranch, and he’s doing it so damn calmly, like it’s afait accompli. Which, I guess it is. I mean, that’s what we’ve been saying all along, right? That I’m here for three months, that this is temporary, that we both need to know that.

But the way he keeps talking about me leaving here and going back to New York, like I’ve just thrown open the gates to some magical, mystical, wonderful future in Manhattan,away from him,as though it’s no big deal, and everything’s totally cool about that, makes me furious.

A thousand emotions are zipping through me, but I latch onto anger because it makes me feel strong, and I need that. “Yeah, well, it didn’t feel like the right thing.”

“Sometimes, it doesn’t,” he admits, voice raw.

“Oh, what would you know?” I snap. “You have no idea what this has been like for me.”

I press a hand to my chest, wondering if I can stop the words from escaping me this time, because I don’t really want to hurt Cole, just because I’m hurting.

“I know how hard it’s been,” he says, gently, as if I’m one of those horses he’s so good at sweet talking. “You came out here to recover, to start feeling more like yourself, and what you did today is a sign you’re doing that. You stood up for yourself. You were honest, you stopped letting Christopher control you from beyond the grave. Honey, you’re going to wake up tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and this is going to hurt less and less. This is all a step toward a new future for you.”

“A future in New York?” I ask, quietly, aware how desperately I want him to dispute that.

“That’s your home,” he says instead, and even plunges the knife in further with a small smile.

It’s at that moment I get it: he’s wrong. New York’s not home. This is.

At least, it’s the closest thing I’ve ever known to a home. I guess I’ve felt that for a while, this sense of rightness and contentment, but it was telling Elsie just now that really made me understand.

I didn’t tell her solely to free myself from the visage of Christopher, from the part I have to play in New York. I told her because with the truth out in the open, there’s no longer an excuse not to be with Cole. To be with him properly.

To admit to myself, to him, to anyone else, that I’ve fallen in love with him.

I stare at this huge, rugged cowboy,mycowboy, with the sound of fireworks popping in my ears and lights flashing before my eyes. I never knew cataclysmic realizations could be so loud.

“I don’t think so,” I say, slowly, frowning, as I try to find my way through this. I want to know what he’s feeling, what he wants, but my own emotions are too damn loud to get a sense for his.

“What do you mean?”

“When I came out here, it was because I was running away. I needed a break. Honestly? I needed to escape. I was suffocating under the weight of it all. But it was only meant to be temporary—that’s what I liked about this job, you know? Then, I met you, and everyone else out here, and whatever else I’d been, in New York, I just…stopped being. I’m not that girl, anymore, Cole.” I suck in a deep breath, aware I’m teetering on the brink of something monumental, but it feelsright. “I don’t think I want to go back.”

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