You want more than two weeks, and you know it. And the Caswells aren’t going to bargain with you. Harold and Sam hated each other, and the bad blood continues.
It didn’t matter. He had to do what was right for Maddie. He’d figure out something about the house later. God knew he’d have plenty of time to do nothing but think.
And to miss her. If only she had expressed any doubts about leaving, but he’d heard her on the phone. Her only argument was that she’d made a promise to him, not that she’d changed her mind.
Promises could be broken. There were other places on the ranch to build himself a house. He wasn’t sure he could stay in this one, anyway, once Maddie was gone. If he’d thought it was haunted before… He would hear the echo of Maddie’s laughter in every room. See her face in every corner.
Boone’s shoulders sagged. How the hell was he going to stand this place without her?
Then he straightened. The least he could do was to make it as easy as possible for her to leave. Her strong sense of honor could keep her from jumping at the opportunity of a lifetime if he didn’t do this. Two weeks from now, she would still leave, but without that chance.
You could ask her to stay.
He could—but he wouldn’t. If even once, he’d heard her voice doubts about leaving. If he had any idea that she might…
No. He had no more to offer her than the day she’d arrived. An unexciting life with a man who could seldom afford a vacation. A life of hard work and little profit. The nearest fine dining or music or museums hours away in Fort Worth or Dallas.
He had one more thing he could offer, but it wasn’t much of a bargain. He had a worn-out heart that had never figured out how to manage love the right way.
All in all, not much to tempt a woman who could have the world at her feet.
No, he would do the right thing by Maddie.
If it killed him.
Magic didn’t last. Stop being a romantic, Maddie. Look at this for what it is.
She’d said it before. Now she had to believe it. She couldn’t be a romantic about this.
The night had been magic, but the opportunity of a lifetime dangled before her. She had to take it seriously. She had worked very hard to get where she was, and she couldn’t afford to blow this.
So why didn’t owning a piece of Sancerre make her heart sing? Why did she keep thinking about owning The Dinner Bell?
Maddie knew why. The Dinner Bell was closer to Boone.
But Boone had made it clear that she should grab this chance. He’d sounded confident that he could work things out with the Caswells so he would not lose the house.
If last night had meant as much to him as to her, she couldn’t tell it now. Maddie had stripped her pride bare too often with Robert. She wouldn’t beg Boone. It would mean giving up all the progress she’d made since she’d come here.
She was strong. She would get through this. She would ask Boone one more time, to be absolutely sure he wouldn’t lose this place that he loved. If he gave her the slightest sense that the house was at risk, she would stay, no matter what. Maddie didn’t go back on her word.
But if he were certain, she would call Régine back. She would make arrangements, and then she would pack.
She would get out of here before she fell to pieces.
And she would hope that Sancerre needed her a lot—so much that she could drown herself in work.
And forget a golden man who had broken her heart, just as she’d known he could.
Boone looked at his empty plate in surprise. He hadn’t tasted a single bite of a meal he was sure had been excellent.
A long, silent meal.
Maddie looked up as if to say something, then paused to take a sip of her juice.
Tell me you don’t want to leave, that New York isn’t important.
But she didn’t. “Are you sure you can work something out with the Caswells?”
A lead weight settled in his chest. From some place deep inside him, he drew on long-buried reserves. “It was your family that killed a Caswell, Maddie, not mine.” He hated the stricken look on her face, but he had to convince her. “They’ll deal with me.”
Maddie chewed on that full lower lip that drove him crazy. For an instant, he could remember her taste, remember the velvet feel of that lip between his own.
Boone clenched his fist around his napkin.
“If you’re sure…” she said, “I guess I’d better call Régine back.” Rising, Maddie picked up both their plates. Her eyes were worried. “I probably should leave today. You’ll be all right until Vondell gets back?”
No. I’ll never be all right if you’re not here.
“Maddie, I’ve told you—”
A faint smile crossed her lips. “I know—you can take care of yourself.”