To Have And To Hold. Myrna Mackenzie
shook her head. “I should probably go home.”
Noah glanced at the clock on the wall. It was barely nine o’clock. He didn’t want her to go. He had to say what was on his mind. “I’m not a threat to you, Callie.”
She looked into her lap. “I know that.”
“So why do you want to leave?”
She expelled an unsteady breath. “Because being here I feel … involved.” She stopped, looked away. “I feel involved with you.”
Suddenly there was something very raw about her. “Would that be so bad?”
She looked back toward him. “No,” she said on a breath. “Yes … I can’t—”
“I’m not your ex, Callie,” he said bluntly. “And if you screwed up, and if you chose the wrong person to give your heart to, don’t feel alone. Just get in line.”
“Did you screw up?” she asked.
“With Margaret?” he nodded. “For sure. But I should never have married her in the first place.” He shrugged. “She was pregnant with Lily,” he explained. Not, I loved her. To say he’d truly loved Margaret would have been a lie. “We had a baby coming. It seemed the right thing to do.”
She smiled fractionally. “It was the right thing to do.”
In the beginning he’d believed so. Especially the day he’d held his newborn in his hands. But later he’d wondered if they should have considered a shared custody arrangement of their daughter instead of a marriage between two people who were never suited to one another.
She looked at him, hesitated, and then took a steadying breath. “My fiancé wasn’t who I thought he was.”
“Was he unfaithful?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think so.” She dropped her gaze for a moment, then turned back to look at him. “He was killed in a car wreck four years ago.”
It wasn’t what he’d been expecting and Noah saw the walls close around her as if they were made from stone. A cheating, dishonest spouse was a whole lot easier to compete with than a ghost. “And you’re still grieving?”
She gave him an odd look. “Most of the time I’m simply … numb.”
He reached across and took her hand. “Can you feel that?” he asked as he stroked her forefinger with his thumb.
She looked to where their hands lay linked. “Yes.”
“Then you’re not numb, Callie.” Noah fought the impulse to drag her into his lap. He wanted her so badly he could barely breathe. “You just fell in love with the wrong man.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I know.”
“So maybe we’ll both get it right next time.”
For a moment she looked like she wanted to be hauled into his arms. He was tempted. Very tempted. But the look lasted only a moment.
She grabbed her tote. He could see her walls closing in, could see her shutting down. “I should go.”
He knew the evening was over. “I’ll walk you out.” Noah stood and followed her wordlessly to the front door. Even with music playing in the background, the house seemed uncommonly quiet. Harry lifted his head when Noah opened the front door, then dropped it disinterestedly.
“Well, thank you for dinner,” she said, clutching her bag. “And for part of a movie.”
Noah prepared himself for her hasty departure, but she stopped at the bottom step and turned. “I know what you want, Noah. And part of me wants that, too.”
The air stuck in his throat. “But?”
“Right now I just … I just don’t have room inside myself for any more … feelings.”
The raw honesty in her voice was undeniable. He wasn’t sure how the brash, argumentative woman he’d first met had morphed into this exposed, vulnerable creature he couldn’t take his eyes off. His insides churned. Don’t be afraid of me. Don’t be afraid of what’s happening between us. He didn’t say it. He couldn’t. He wanted to kiss sense into her … to make her really see him, really feel him. But she wanted to run and that annoyed him. God, this woman’s undoing me.
“Will you ever have room?” he asked quietly.
She looked at him. Through him. “I … don’t … I can’t.”
Moments later he watched her drive away and waited on the porch until the taillights disappeared at the end of the driveway. And he knew he was falling for a woman who’d just admitted she didn’t want to feel anything. For anyone. Ever.
The familiar sight of Noah’s truck arrived at exactly eight fifty-five Sunday morning. Callie was coming out of the stables when she saw him retrieving his toolbox from the tray. She said hello and he said the same, but he quickly headed for the house and began repairing the screen door.
While she was left wondering if he was angry with her, she was also left facing Lily. And Lily was in a dark mood. She grunted when Callie clipped the long lead rein onto the halter secured beneath the bridle. And then again when Callie knotted the reins in the middle of the gelding’s neck and instructed Lily to do arm raises.
Lily muttered a “this sucks” under her breath and began her lesson.
It became a long fifty minutes, with Callie acutely conscious of Noah’s presence at the house. She wished she knew his moods better. Was he angry with her? He worked without breaking; he didn’t even appear to look in their direction. She hadn’t heard from him since Friday night. She’d thought he might call. But he hadn’t called … and as tempted as she’d been to pick up the telephone herself so she could hear his voice, she hadn’t.
“What’s up with you today?”
Lily’s accusing voice vaulted her back to the present. “Nothing,” she said.
“You’re not paying attention to me,” the teenager complained.
Callie switched her mind into instructor mode. “Of course I am. You’re doing great.” She grabbed a neutral subject. “How did your sleepover go at Maddy’s?”
Lily’s gaze snapped at her suspiciously as she trotted Samson in a circle, skillfully rising from the saddle in between beats. “How did yours go with my Dad?”
Maybe not such a neutral subject after all!
Callie’s face burned. She called Samson to a halt and waited until he slowed before roping him in. Once horse and rider were in front of her she spoke. “It wasn’t like that.”
Lily’s expression remained skeptical. “Yeah, sure.”
“I stayed for dinner,” she explained. “And then I went home.”
Lily didn’t like that, either. Her look became as black as her mood. “So you guys are friends now?”
Callie thought about how to answer. “I … suppose.”
Lily dismounted. “I thought you were my friend?”
Uh-oh. Callie chose her words carefully. “I am, Lily. I have all different kinds of friends.”
“Well, he doesn’t look at you like he wants you to be his friend. He looks at you as if he wants you to be his girlfriend.”
Callie grabbed the reins and tried to squash the sudden heavy thump of her heart. He’s not looking at me like anything at the moment.
“We’re