If you’re afraid of me…
She flinched inwardly and glanced away because he’d hit the mark. But then, he didn’t need to use any real intuition to guess that since she’d probably made it clear enough that she was afraid of him. Or rather, afraid to be around him. Not because she thought there was even a remote chance he’d hurt her physically, but because it was her heart that was at risk. She made herself look at him again.
“Why are you doing this, Morg?”
“Damned if I know,” he growled, “but it’s time, Selly. You’ve grown up, and you’ve still got your cut of Conroe. Wouldn’t hurt you to spend a little time there once in a while. You liked it well enough once, and that won’t have changed.”
No it hadn’t changed; it would never change. Selena had loved the ranch, and she was still too often homesick for it. Conroe Ranch had been her first real home, the first place in her life where she’d felt accepted, cared about, and completely secure.
Morgan had given her that, and what child wouldn’t fall in love with everything—and everyone—connected to the place where she’d had such emotional abundance? And yet without her memories of Morgan and his goodness to her, along with a few others, Conroe Ranch would be just another massive piece of Texas, then and now.
He’d offered to keep his distance while she was there, but it was an empty offer. His essence permeated everything, so there’d be no avoiding him, not really. Perhaps it was because she’d stayed silent so long that he decided to press.
“Miss Em and Miss Minna can’t wait for you to get there. They made up your room yesterday, and they’ve been baking all day today.”
The mention of Em and Minna Peat, the old maid sisters who’d taken care of the Conroe ranch house since Morgan was a toddler, sent a wide sweep of emotion through her that made her eyes sting again.
The Peat sisters lived to cook and clean and spoil every visitor to Conroe Ranch, and they’d both spoiled her. Selena still sent cards at birthdays and gifts at Christmas to the sisters, and she received an occasional chatty letter from them that she always had to answer carefully.
Selena gave her head a weary shake. “Why did you tell them?” Feeling trapped and teary, she put her napkin beside her plate and started to get to her feet. Morgan’s hand flashed out to gently catch her wrist before she could.
“It’s time to come home, Selena.”
The soft burr in his low voice sent a persuasive warmth through her that threatened her precarious emotions even more. And it was all she could do to withstand the sweet tingles that shivered through her just because his big hand was tenderly shackling her wrist.
Her voice was a whisper. “You fight dirty.”
“I can. When I’m after something I want.”
His calm pronouncement was no earth-shattering surprise, and neither was the wild leap of her foolish heart. This wasn’t personal, at least not in the way she used to dream it might someday be. This wasn’t anything romantic on Morgan’s part, not in the slightest.
Taking her to Conroe Ranch was something he felt obligated to do because he felt a certain duty to her. His father had been married to her mother, and they’d lived under the same roof and worked together for years. It wouldn’t matter that they’d been estranged for far longer than the two years she’d been gone from the ranch. Not when Morgan felt a responsibility to her.
She was well aware that if news of the accident hadn’t brought her name back into his mind, apart from quarterly checks and at tax time, Morgan might have gone on for years more—perhaps for the rest of her life—without ever wanting to contact her or even thinking of contacting her.
Or thinking about her at all.
Selena knew all that because it was the brutal, unvarnished truth. She also knew, despite Morgan’s insistence that this was “doctor’s orders,” that she had a choice. She could either refuse to go, or she could give in and let him take her to the ranch.
Her heart shook with a crazy mix of terror and groundless hope at the idea of going with him, of being with him. It was because of that groundless hope that she realized what she needed to do. Perhaps she hadn’t been hurt enough before. Perhaps what she truly needed to forever inoculate herself against Morgan Conroe was to again put her heart in harm’s way for one final devastation. She’d got over the first one, so she’d surely know how to get over him a second time if she had to.
“I meant what I said about bunking someplace else while you’re there,” he said, and she tried not to let herself show her reaction as his callused thumb brushed impatiently against the tender underside of her wrist.
“N-no need,” she said, then gave her wrist a tug that prompted him to release her. She hoped he hadn’t noticed the small stutter. “I suppose you’d rather not wait until morning.”
“You’ve only got one bed.”
“What if I’m carsick again?”
“Then we’ll either come back here, stop as often as you need to, or find a motel for the night and try it again tomorrow.”
Selena stood up stiffly. “We’ll see how I feel after I pack my things,” she said, and turned away to start for the bedroom.
The hearty meal had perked her up significantly, so it wasn’t such an ordeal to pack. When she finished, Selena sat down in the armchair to rest for a few moments. She noticed the blow-dryer she’d left sitting nearby, so she reached for it to wrap up the cord and put it in her suitcase.
Once upon a golden time she and Morgan been friends, good friends. Once upon a golden time, she’d worshiped the ground he walked on. And once upon that same golden time, he hadn’t minded.
In her head, Selena knew that her once upon a time had burned away long ago. But in her heart, once upon a time was still a last magic wish that lingered on in a tantalizing mirage over a future yet to be seen.
Maybe it would take going back to Conroe Ranch and seeing it all from the perspective of two years away that would knock a little of the golden glow from that sweetly remembered time.
And perhaps it was because she was hurting and weary and in a deeply emotional and sentimental mood that she was going back. It could even be because it was an instinct to retreat to a place of remembered security when you were feeling weak and needy. Though she was certain she’d regret this, Selena couldn’t seem to muster the will to tell Morgan no and make it stick.
CHAPTER THREE
THE long drive to Conroe Ranch went well, mostly because Selena slept most of the way. It was almost midnight by the time they drove up to the big ranch house.
Because she’d insisted that Morgan not tell the Peat sisters they’d be coming tonight, there was no big welcome when he walked her into the house.
But the price of waiting until morning to inform the sisters, who lived in the east wing of the big house, was that Morgan insisted on carrying her upstairs to her room. Once he’d deposited her on the edge of the bed, he went back down to bring up her suitcases, then hovered to help her hang up the clothes that might wrinkle.
It was strange and a little touching to watch Morgan tipping a clothes hanger this way and that as he tried to get one of her blouses properly hung. If the blouse had been made of a heavier, less delicate fabric, he probably wouldn’t have taken that kind of awkward care.
He was intent on performing the minor task and so slow that she managed to get the few other things on hangers by the time he finished and held up the blouse for her approval.
“It looks good,” she said. “Thank you.”
Morgan reached for the ones she’d done, and carried them into the big, walk-in closet to hook on