“It’s too late,” she retorted, desperate to get this horrific conversation over with. “We have too many trust issues. We don’t even want the same things.”
His green eyes sharpened as he absorbed her words. “How can you say that? I want to be together. That’s the same.”
“Except that’s not what I want,” she whispered, and forced herself to watch as his beautiful face blanked, becoming as desolate as a West Texas ravine in a drought. “Goodbye, Kyle.”
And before she took it all back in a moment of weakness, she shut the door, dry-eyed. The tears would come later.
Now that Johnny and Slim had a grudging respect for Kyle as the boss, they got on okay.
Which was fortunate, because Kyle drove them all relentlessly. Himself included, and probably the hardest. Spring calving season was in full swing and eighteen-hour days fit with Kyle’s determination to never think, never lie awake at night and never miss Grace.
At this point, he’d take two out of three, but the hole where Grace was supposed to be ached too badly to be ignored, which in turn guaranteed he wouldn’t sleep. And as he lay there not sleeping, his brain did nothing but think, turning over her words again and again, forcing him to relive them because he deserved to be unhappy. He couldn’t be with Grace because she didn’t want to be with him. Because she didn’t trust him.
All the work he’d done to get over his trust issues, and she’d blindsided him with her own. Because he’d left when life got too difficult. When all he’d wanted was to find his place in the world. And when that place spat him back out, he came back. To forge a new place, put down roots. It had been hard, one of the toughest challenges of his life, and yeah, when it got rough, he dreamed of leaving. But he hadn’t. Only to have that thrown back in his face.
If it didn’t hurt so bad he’d laugh at the irony.
A week after Operation: Grace had gone down in flames, Liam invited him to the Texas Cattlemen’s Club for an afternoon of “getting away from it all” as Liam put it. Curious about the club his grandfather had belonged to, and now Liam, too, apparently, Kyle agreed, with the caveat that they’d only stay a couple of hours tops. The cattle weren’t going to tend themselves, after all.
The moment Kyle walked into the formerly men-only club, the outside world ceased to exist. Dark hardwood floors stretched from wall to wall, reflecting the pale gold wallpaper that warmed the place. It was welcoming and hushed, as if the room was waiting for something important to happen. The sense of anticipation was compelling.
Kyle followed Liam to the bar, where some other men sat nursing beers. Kyle recognized Mac McCallum, who’d been Liam’s buddy for a long time, and Case Baxter.
“Case is the president of the Texas Cattlemen’s Club,” Liam said as he introduced everyone around. “And this is Nolan Dane.”
“Right.” Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m back in town, practicing family law now,” Nolan explained with a glance at Liam. “Your brother’s a client.”
Kyle nodded as his lungs hitched. Liam had a legal retainer who practiced family law? Didn’t take a rocket scientist to do that math. When Liam had talked about papers and warned Kyle he’d need a lawyer, it hadn’t been an idle threat. They hadn’t talked about it again, and Kyle had hoped the idea of adoption had been dropped.
Obviously it hadn’t.
But why stick it in Kyle’s face like this? It was a crappy thing to do after all the hoops Kyle’d been forced to jump through to prove his worth as a father. Especially after they’d had their Come To Jesus discussion and Liam had apologized for the Grace thing.
Wasn’t that indicative of Kyle’s Royal welcome thus far? That’s why he shot first. When he didn’t, he invariably took a bullet straight into his gut.
Mouth firmly shut as he processed everything, Kyle took a seat as far away from Liam as he could. When the conversation turned to Samson Oil, it piqued his interest sufficiently to pull his head out of his rear long enough to participate. Especially when Nolan Dane excused himself with a pained look on his face.
“More offers for land coming in,” Liam affirmed. “Wade Ranch included. I think we’ve got a problem on our hands.”
The other men seemed to share his brother’s concern. Kyle leaned in. “What does Samson Oil want? They have to know the oil prospects are slim to none around here. People been drilling for over a hundred years. There’s no way Samson will find a new well.”
Case Baxter shook his head. “No one knows for sure what they’re up to. Fracking, maybe. But the Cline Shale property is mostly bought up already in this area.”