Page 62 of Christmas with the Cowgirl
And all along it was as phony as a Hollywood movie.And he was exactly like Derek.
“Get.Off.My.Ranch.”She ground the words out through clenched teeth.“And don’t come back.”
He was gaping at her, looking utterly bewildered.“Riley, what’s wrong?”
“That you have to ask says everything,MisterFlint.”
She turned on the heel of her boot and headed down from the overlook at a run.She never stopped when she reached where King was ground-tied, his head coming up as he heard her noisy approach.She skipped the stirrups, grabbed the saddle horn and used momentum to swing right up into the saddle in a single motion.She reached for the reins and pulled them up over the horse’s head, then wheeled him around and put her heels to his sides with more oomph than usual.King got the message and leapt forward, hitting full speed in a half-dozen strides.
She never looked back.
She was glad her father wasn’t in the house when she got there.She tied King off at the front porch and ran inside.In a matter of moments she had every single item of his that had found its way here crammed into that duffel bag, and she didn’t much care if she broke the toothbrush in the process.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.The only thing she could see was the neckline of her shirt, more open than it should be, thanks to that missing button.
That thing was going in the trash.She never wanted to even see it again, let alone wear it.
She was as angry with herself as she was with him.With herself because she had fallen for it.She had truly believed him.Had believed she’d been seeing the real him, when it was apparently all the kind of façade his world produced.He was a producer, after all, she thought bitterly.
She felt a bit of a qualm when she thought of Nic, and Jackson, and even Jeremy, who had all made clear what a good guy Miles Flint was.
But they didn’t fall in love with him like you did.
Ironic that this was the first time she’d ever actually put it into words, even in her mind.Now, when it was over, when she’d been bludgeoned by a truth she’d never expected.But it was so blatantly obvious just how wrong she’d been.She should have known.She was never destined to have the kind of happiness she’d felt in the last three weeks.Not permanently.
She’d planned on dumping his bag on the porch and then locking the door.Thank goodness they hadn’t progressed to her giving him a key, but then they so rarely had to lock the door it wasn’t necessary.But now, no sooner had she stepped outside with the duffel than he rode up on Sam.
She dropped the bag.She wanted more than anything to scurry back inside, but she made herself stay.She might be stupid, she might be gullible, she might have fallen for a fantasy, but she would not be a coward.
He slid off the docile bay and came up the steps.He looked utterly confused.As if he didn’t at all understand what had just happened.
“Riley—”
“Take your bag and go.”
“But—”
“Now.”
“Riley, what just happened?What made you—”
“What made me see reality?”she snapped.
“I don’t…” He stopped, giving a slow shake of his head.He truly looked bewildered.
Could he really have no idea?Was he so blind to reality outside his world, the world where his…proposalwould have no doubt been greeted with glee no matter the personal cost?Had he assumed she would be delighted, just as Derek had once assumed she would have been delighted to leave the ranch for the city?
“Riley, please—”
“You want to know what’s wrong, Mr.Flint?I’ll tell you.I’m sick and tired of men who make assumptions without ever asking the damned questions!”
She turned on her heel and walked back inside, slamming the door and locking it.That was as far as she got before her knees gave out, and with her back against the door she slid down to the floor.
It struck her then that in a way she’d done the same thing.She’d assumed.She’d trusted.She’d been blind.Apparently Derek had taught her nothing.But that was her own problem, and one she’d have to deal with.Learn to live with, warily.That she hadn’t learned it well enough back then was just another stab in the gut for her.She was too old to be that stupid.
Stop it!I do not give a damn how old you are.It doesn’t matter.
His words, in that voice that sent heat rippling through her, rang in her head.And she was glad all over again that her father wasn’t in the house, because she didn’t want him to see her crying.
