“I have this gut feeling there’s going to be a hole the size of the Grand Canyon in mine the minute you drive away.” He dropped his arm and moved away from her. His eyes held a weary sadness, but Rorie found an acceptance there, too.
“I’m an uncomplicated man,” he said evenly. “I’m probably nothing like the sophisticated man you’re dating in San Francisco.”
Her thoughts flew to Dan, so cosmopolitan and...superficial, and she recognized the truth in Clay’s words. The two men were poles apart. Dan’s interests revolved around his career and his car, but he was genuinely kind, and it was that quality that had attracted Rorie.
“Elk Run’s given me a good deal of satisfaction over the years. My life’s work is here and, God willing, some day my son will carry on the breeding programs I’ve started. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of has always been within my grasp.” He paused, holding in a long sigh and releasing it slowly. “And then you came,” he whispered, and a brief smile crossed his lips, “and, within a matter of days, I’m reeling from the effects. Suddenly I’m left doubting what’s really important in my life.”
Rorie lowered her eyes. “Who’d have believed a silly water pump would be responsible for all this wretched soul-searching?”
“I’ve always been the type of man who’s known what he wants, but you make me feel like a schoolboy no older than Skip. I don’t know what to do anymore, Rorie. In a few hours, you’ll be leaving and part of me says if you do, I’ll regret it the rest of my life.”
“I can’t stay.” Their little dinner party had shown her how different their worlds actually were. She wouldn’t fit into his life and he’d be an alien in hers. But Kate... Kate belonged to his world.
Clay rubbed his hands across his eyes and harshly drew in a breath. “I know you feel you should leave, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“The pull to stay is there for me, too,” she whispered.
“And it’s tearing both of us apart.”
Rorie shook her head. “Don’t you see? So much good has come out of meeting you, Clay.” Her voice was strong. She had to make him understand that she’d always be grateful for the things he’d taught her. “In some ways I grew up tonight. I feel I’m doing what’s right for both of us, although it’s more painful than anything I’ve ever known.”
He looked at her with such undisguised love that she ached.
“Let me hold you once more,” he said softly. “Give me that, at least.”
Rorie shook her head. “I can’t...I’m sorry, Clay, but this is how it has to be with us. I’m so weak where you’re concerned. I couldn’t bear to let you touch me now and then leave tomorrow.”
His eyes drifted shut as he yielded to her wisdom. “I don’t know that I could, either.”
They were only a few feet apart, but it seemed vast worlds stood between them.
“More than anything I want you to remember me fondly, without any bitterness,” Rorie told him, discovering as she spoke the words how much she meant them.
Clay nodded. “Be happy, Rorie, for my sake.”
Rorie realized that contentment would be a long time coming without this man in her life, but she would find it eventually. She prayed that he’d marry Kate the way he’d planned. The other woman was the perfect wife for him—unlike herself. A thread of agony twisted around Rorie’s heart.
She turned to leave him, afraid she’d dissolve into tears if she remained much longer. “Goodbye, Clay.”
“Goodbye, Rorie.”
She rushed past him and hurried up the stairs.
* * *
The following morning, both Clay and Skip had left the house by the time Rorie entered the kitchen.
“Good morning, Mary,” she said with a note of false cheer in her voice. “How did the visit with your sister go?”
“Fine.”
Rorie stepped around the housekeeper to reach the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. A plume of steam rose enticingly to her nostrils and she took a tentative sip.
“I found those pizza boxes you were trying so hard to hide from me,” Mary grumbled as she wiped her hands on her apron. “You fed these good men restaurant pizza?”
Unable to stop herself, Rorie chuckled at the housekeeper’s indignation. “Guilty as charged. Mary, you should’ve known better than to leave their fate in my evil hands.”
“Near as I can figure, the closest pizza parlour is a half-hour away. Did you drive over and get it yourself or did you send Skip?”
“Actually he volunteered,” she admitted reluctantly. “Dinner didn’t exactly turn out the way I’d hoped.”
The housekeeper snickered. “I should’ve guessed. You city slickers don’t know nothing about serving up a decent meal to your menfolk.”
Rorie gave a hefty sigh of agreement. “The only thing for me to do is stay on another couple of months and have you teach me.” As she expected, the housekeeper opened her mouth to protest. “Unfortunately,” Rorie continued, cutting Mary off before she could launch into her arguments, “I’m hoping to be gone by this afternoon.”
Mary’s response was a surprise. The older woman’s expression grew troubled and intense.
“I suspected you’d be going soon enough,” she said in a tight voice, pulling out a chair. She sat down heavily and brushed wisps of gray hair from her forehead. Her weathered face was thoughtful. “It’s for the best, you know.”
“I knew you’d be glad to get rid of me.”
Mary shrugged. “It’s other reasons that make it right for you to leave. You know what I’m talking about, even if you don’t want to admit it to me. As a person you tend to grow on folks. Like I said before, for a city girl, you ain’t half bad.”
Rorie took a banana from the fruit bowl in the center of the table. “For a stud farm, stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, this place isn’t half bad, either,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, which had taken an unexpected turn toward the serious. “The people are friendly and the apple pie’s been exceptional.”
Mary ignored the compliment on her pie. “By people, I suppose you’re referring to Clay. You’re going to miss him, aren’t you, girl?”
The banana found its way back into the bowl and with it went her cheerful facade. “Yes. I’ll miss Clay.”
The older woman’s frown deepened. “From the things I’ve been noticing, he’s going to be yearning for you, as well. But it’s for the best,” she said again. “For the best.”
Rorie nodded and her voice wavered. “Yes...but it isn’t easy.”
The housekeeper gave her a lopsided smile as she gently patted Rorie’s hand. “I know that, too, but you’re doing the right thing. You’ll forget him soon enough.”
A strong protest rose in her breast, closing off her throat. She wouldn’t forget Clay. Ever. How could she forget the man who had so unselfishly taught her such valuable lessons about life and love? Lessons about herself.
“Kate Logan’s the right woman for Clay,” Mary said abruptly.
Those few words cut Rorie to the quick. Hearing another person voice the truth made it almost unbearably painful.
“I...hope they’re very happy.”
“Kate