Homestead

Chapter Thirteen

The pastel-striped curtain swung closed, leaving Tess alone in the brightly lit hallway. She couldn’t quite get her breath. Clay’s battered back haunted her. Bruises—scrapes, that was all. They would all heal. Clay would be fine. A trickle of relief loosened the iron band around her chest.

Breathe. She ought to be able to breathe now. She took a few steps, leaned against the cool plaster walls. The pounding in her head eased but the fire in her blood still raged. Her hands burned as if they were living beings, apart from her, unbound by reason. The merest touch of Clay’s skin had turned the key on wants and desires she had successfully locked away, until now. And now all she could see, all she could feel, was Clay.

Once, Clay had been reed thin, all sinew and muscle, her hips as narrow as one of the boys, her ass almost too small to hold up the black jeans that had hung low on her hips, bunching over the tops of her heavy black motorcycle boots. Those muscles were still there, more than she remembered even, harder and more defined. Clay’s shoulders were wider, stronger-looking. But what had captured her, what enthralled her still, was the subtle arch of Clay’s lower back curving into the swell of her hips—hips that offered an invitation to caress she’d barely declined. Clay was a virtual stranger, a woman she did not know. And still she had wanted to explore those curves with the wild abandon that had propelled her into those reckless motorcycle rides over twisting, tantalizing country roads. She’d wanted to let go—of memory, sadness, rejection, and remorse. She’d wanted the unfettered freedom of an unfettered heart. She was losing her mind.

Tess closed her eyes. Clay was a woman she barely knew, she was hurt, and she wasn’t her Clay any longer.

“Hey,” a soft voice called, and Tess opened her eyes.

No, Clay wasn’t hers.

Ella was just coming down the hall, and Tess walked to meet her.

“How is she?” Ella looked as cool as ever, but the icy blue of her eyes flared with intensity.

“She’s pretty banged up, but they didn’t find anything serious. The doctor just cleared her to go.” Tess pointed to the center cubicle. The curtain was still closed. It took almost more energy than she had to resist going back to see if Clay needed help. It wasn’t her place to help her. Ella was here now. “She’s getting dressed.”

“Good. I’ll go get her.” Ella grabbed a wheelchair from a row of them lined up along the wall. “The SUV is right outside. You look like you could use some air.”

Tess smiled wanly. “That bad, huh?”

“No, not really.” Ella laughed. “It’s been a long night and probably a tough one, considering the patient.”

“She’s been pretty good, really,” Tess said. “But she needs to slow down for a day or two. The doctor said she’s probably going to have some aftereffects.”

“Post-concussive symptoms,” Ella murmured. “Keeping her quiet is not going to be easy.”

“I’m glad it’s your job instead of mine,” Tess said.

“Really?” Ella asked gently.

Tess felt her face burn. Somehow she knew Clay had not told Ella anything about their past relationship, but Ella was perceptive, and she’d been too distracted since the accident, worrying about Clay, to worry about what she might be revealing. She wondered how much was obvious. Not that there was very much to reveal. She and Clay had history, but it was a long, long time ago. She didn’t know this Clay any more than Clay knew her. They were connected, if they were connected at all, by memories, and memories were notoriously inaccurate. Tess met Ella’s softly questioning gaze directly and answered with total conviction. “Yes, really. You know Clay, I don’t. And I’m sure you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t the best person to look after her.”

“Well, I certainly haven’t done much of a job tonight.” Ella grimaced. “What happened is my responsibility. My fault.”

Tess leaned her shoulder against the wall and studied Ella. “I wouldn’t bet the farm, but I’d bet a lot that you argued with her not to go wandering around so late, and you lost.”

“Your wager would be safe, only the problem isn’t who won or lost, but that there was any discussion to begin with.” Ella shook her head. “I should know better than to get too close. Friendship impairs judgment.”

Friendship. Ella hadn’t said a personal relationship. She’d said friendship. Of course, Ella was a professional, she wouldn’t reveal anything personal about Clay. If there was something personal. Tess shook her head. She was too tired to guess. And what did it matter? “I imagine it’s very difficult, spending so much time together, especially if Clay is…difficult, sometimes.”

Ella smiled. “I know you two didn’t just meet, so I won’t bother to protect my boss’s reputation and argue that she takes well to being guarded all the time. But I like what I do, and I like doing it for Clay.”

“I’m glad she has you,” Tess said, all the more confused because she meant it. “She’s probably ready by now. I’ll go get that air and meet you at the car.”

“Thanks, Tess, for stepping in tonight. I needed you. So did Clay.”

“I doubt that, but you’re welcome.” Tess hurried outside. Ella was right. She did need some air. And some distance. Everyone from the EMTs to the young mother in the waiting room to the ER staff had thought she and Clay were together, and at times she’d almost forgotten they weren’t. The realization that she could so easily slip into a fantasy world again was terrifying.

The sun was up and Tess blinked, disoriented. The long night had seemed to drift between the present and the past effortlessly, as if the boundaries of time had dissolved and she was simultaneously in two places at once, the feelings she’d had long ago as fresh and vibrant as anything she knew in the present. Everyone seemed to think she and Clay were somehow involved, connected, and nothing could be further from the truth. Every once in a while she’d caught a glimpse of the wild, heart-stopping renegade Clay had been, in the curve of her mouth, the glint of her eyes, the low seductive tenor of her laugh. And when she had, her heart yearned.

But this Clay, the woman who had appeared out of the haze late on a summer day, was closer to a potential enemy than a friend, and certainly no lover. And not even an old photo Clay had probably forgotten was even in her wallet could change that. Clay wasn’t here for her. Clay had come for what lay under the land, and if it hadn’t been for that, Clay would not be here. Tess would have gone on with the rest of her life knowing nothing of Clay. This woman who’d stepped out of the past into the present was not the girl she had known, the girl she had loved. Clay was as much a stranger to her as Ella, maybe even more so. Ella seemed to want to know her, seemed to see her as more than an obstacle to achieving a goal. Clay had come to take what was hers. That was not going to happen.

The ER doors whisked open and Ella pushed Clay out in a wheelchair. A light sweat misted Clay’s forehead, and every bit of color had leached from her face. She was in pain, another thing Tess could do nothing to change. Sadness, heavy and dark, pulled at her, and she pushed back at the mental clouds by forcing her body to move. She hurried to the SUV parked behind an ambulance twenty yards away and opened the rear door just as Ella maneuvered the wheelchair alongside.

Clay braced both hands on the arms of the chair and started to push herself up.

“Wait.” Tess gripped her elbow. “Go slow. Changing position is probably going to make you dizzy.”

Clay leaned against Tess as she got to her feet. She swayed. “Understatement.”

Ella backed the chair away. “Do you have her?”

“Yes.” Tess slid an arm around Clay’s waist. Clay didn’t argue for once, and that was almost as worrisome as the fine tremor coursing through Clay’s body. Tess tightened her hold. “Here, the seat is right behind you. Hold on to me and just ease down inside.”

“Why don’t you ride in the back with her,” Ella said.

Tess started to protest, but Ella was already on her way around to the other side of the SUV. Tess could either argue for no good reason, or follow Clay inside and make sure she was settled. She climbed in next to Clay and pulled the door closed.

Clay leaned her head back against the seat and shut her eyes. “If I find out who did this to me, I may have to run them over just so they know how bad it feels.”

“Everyone secure?” Ella asked.

Tess leaned over Clay and hunted around for her seat belt. She clicked the buckle and then fastened her own. She felt a little silly being chauffeured around, but if she’d been sitting in the front seat, she would have spent the entire ride back turning around to check that Clay was all right. She might as well ride back here where she would know. “Ready as we’ll ever be.”

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” Ella said.

The vehicle glided smoothly out of the parking lot, and Clay groaned softly. “The car’s going in one direction and my stomach in the other.”

“Here. Lie down.” Tess loosened Clay’s seat belt and drew her down until Clay’s head was in her lap. “Try not to move too much. Maybe you can sleep.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Clay murmured.

“Yes. About five in the morning.”

Clay pressed her cheek to Tess’s lower belly and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Tess. I really screwed up your night.”

Tess laughed at the absurdity of it all. Clay, who had roared into her life and taken her to places she’d never imagined, then dashed her dreams and broken her heart, apologizing for something totally beyond her control. What was one lost night compared to so many of them? “Please don’t apologize any more. You couldn’t help what happened.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Clay sighed, sliding her hand around Tess’s waist. “I thought I was doing the right thing, the only thing. It wasn’t fair, making you pay for who I was.”

Tess froze. “What are you talking about?”

The steady hum of the SUV’s powerful engine was the only sound. Clay’s breath warmed Tess’s belly.

“Clay?” Even through her cotton shirt, the heat of Clay’s hand on Tess’s back was like a torch flaming against her skin. So hot, when inside she was so cold. She wanted to grab her, shake her. Scream at her to speak, to tell her at last something, anything, why. Most of all why. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know,” Clay said at last. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Maybe you’re right. Don’t worry about it now.” Ashamed of her own selfishness, Tess rested her hand on Clay’s shoulder to steady her against the vehicle’s subtle motion. Browbeating Clay when she was barely aware of her surroundings wasn’t going to get her any answers.

Clay’s breathing softened into the slow, deep rhythm of sleep as the vehicle knifed over the empty roads. Already, heat rose off the soft blacktop in waves that distorted the horizon. The fields and distant mountains shimmered in and out of focus, much like Tess’s thoughts. Clay seemed to carry a deep well of sadness, pain she recognized, a reflection of her own. Tess stroked Clay’s hair, let her fingers linger on the warm skin of her neck. She’d so rarely had the chance to protect Clay. Clay had always supported her, protected her, made her feel unique and precious. She’d warned off overeager boys who wouldn’t accept polite refusals, softened Ray’s criticisms of Tess’s dreams for the farm by assuring Tess she could do anything, banished her insecurities with whispered words of desire. With Clay she had grown certain, confident, bold.

Tess sighed. So many good things she’d forgotten, buried by anger and hurt. Clay hadn’t been much older than her, and she ought to be forgiven her broken promises—most people’s pasts were littered with them. Tess ran a strand of sleek dark hair through her fingers. She could try to forgive the girl Clay had been, but that would not change the present. Nothing good could come of Clay being here now.

Tess looked up, caught Ella watching them in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were soft with sympathy. For Tess. For Clay?

“She’s all right,” Tess whispered.

Ella nodded and turned her gaze back to the road. Tess wondered what had shown in her face. But then, what could show? All she felt was numb.