Homestead

Chapter Twenty-nine

“Hi,” Tess said, holding the side door open. “Come on in.”

“I’m pretty wet—maybe I should leave my boots out here,” Clay said, feeling awkward all of a sudden. Seeing Tess again was a punch to the chest. Even with worry in her eyes, Tess looked beautiful, her hair still damp, wearing a plain light-blue shirt, worn work jeans, and fuzzy gray socks.

“Don’t worry about it, everything is wet.” Tess followed Clay’s gaze down to her feet and laughed softly. “Just take everything off inside here. I’ve got a fire going in the kitchen, and you can dry out a little bit. Want some coffee?”

“Yeah, I could use some. Thanks.”

Tess backed up, still facing her. “Come on in, Clay. It’s safe.”

Clay realized she was still standing out on the porch, dripping onto the mat that said Welcome, hoping that she really was. She wanted to see the warmth of welcome in Tess’s eyes more than she’d ever wanted anything. If she could only have that, she’d be grateful, even if she did ache for more every day of her life.

“Unless you’re scared,” Tess teased gently.

“Terrified.”

Tess laughed, and grinning, Clay stepped into the parlor, a big room facing the front of the house with an antique rug the colors of the fields covering most of the random-width wood floor, a couple of big sofas, a fireplace that looked like it worked in winter but was barren now. Hand-hewn exposed beams framed the ceiling, crowning a room that spoke of history, of generations one with the land. “This place looks like you.”

Tess’s eyes widened slightly. “Thanks. It feels like me, but that always seemed like a funny thing to think.”

Clay took off her rain slicker, draped it on an iron coat rack next to the door, and kicked off her work boots. She set them on a tray next to a similar pair that must have been Tess’s. “I don’t think it is.”

“Well,” Tess said, all of a sudden not knowing what to do with her hands or any other part of her. What she wanted to do was grip Clay by the shirtfront, drag her closer, and kiss her until the rain disappeared and the only storm she knew was the one they made upstairs in her bed. Clay was like the land to her—alive and vibrant and powerful, filling a hunger as old as her soul. And she had the most kissable mouth.

Clay stared at her, as if reading the want burning beneath her skin.

Afraid to move too quickly, afraid of what she might do if she let up on her control, Tess slid her palms into the back pockets of her jeans and rocked slightly in her ridiculously unsexy gray work socks. Now was not the time to be thinking about escaping her life. What she needed was to get it set on the right course. “We should talk.”

Clay grimaced. “Now there’s a statement you never want to hear from a woman.”

Tess laughed and relaxed a little. Clay always seemed to be able to make her laugh, even when she was angry at her. “You know, sometimes you walk a very thin line.”

Clay shot her a brief but cocky grin. “I know. I was hoping you might like that.”

“There are a lot of things I like about you. I just wish there weren’t so many things in the way.”

Clay’s expression suddenly turned serious. “I’m hoping I can change that this morning—get rid of some of the baggage…past and present.”

“All right.” Tess let out a long breath. She wasn’t angry any longer, and the absence of the dark fire that had been a constant companion for far too long was exhilarating and a little frightening. She understood now how a person could come to depend on anger to give some kind of meaning to life, but that was not what she wanted to build the rest of hers upon. Tess hesitated, then held out her hand. “Come with me. You’re leaking on the floor.”

Clay took Tess’s hand without the slightest pause, her grasp firm but gentle. Tess rubbed her thumb over the top of Clay’s hand as she led her on a winding path through the house to the kitchen. The subtle rise of Clay’s knuckles and the valleys between her tendons reminded Tess of the rolling countryside around her, enduring and endlessly beautiful. Clay’s skin was warm and slightly rough across the palm. She didn’t just manage the drilling operations, then. Apparently, she did some hard work too.

When they reached the kitchen, Tess pointed to the cast-iron wood-burning stove. “A couple of minutes in front of that will dry out the worst of it. Are you hungry?”

“No,” Clay said, turning her back to the stove. “I had a huge breakfast at Pete Townsend’s not that long ago.”

Surprised, Tess paused getting the cups down from the cabinet. “You met with Pete this morning? After you left here?”

“Yes.” Clay shrugged. “I was too keyed up to sit in the B and B and listen to it rain. Couldn’t take the bike out for a run. So I figured I’d take a run at Pete instead.”

“How did it go?” Tess asked, more conflicted than she’d expected to be. On some fundamental level, she wanted Clay to succeed merely because she was Clay. And she didn’t like the idea of Pete making Clay’s job harder, which of course made no sense, since Pete was essentially standing up for everyone who didn’t want NorthAm drilling in their county. And that included her, at least, she thought it did. “Damn it.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. You just muddle my head.”

Clay looked annoyingly pleased. “Sorry?”

Tess laughed. “Never mind. You’re an awful liar.”

“My meeting with Pete is part of the reason I’m here,” Clay said.

Digesting that news, Tess poured coffee into two big ceramic mugs and carried them to the table. Even though Clay had said she wasn’t hungry, it was well after noon, and she suspected Clay hadn’t had lunch. Clay looked tired and drawn, and Tess had an overwhelming urge to erase the shadows from beneath her eyes. If she couldn’t do that, she could at least feed her. She quickly assembled a platter of cold cuts and put a loaf of bread in the center of the table on a breadboard along with a knife to cut slices for sandwiches. “Just in case.”

Clay reached for the bread knife. “Come to think of it…”

“Here, I’ll do it.” Tess assembled a couple of sandwiches, enjoying the simple act of preparing a meal for Clay. She could easily get used to it, and for once, she didn’t deny herself the pleasure. They ate to the sound of rain on the slate roof.

A few minutes later, Clay pushed back from the table and sighed. “Thanks for seeing me, Tess.”

“Somehow after last night, thanks seems unnecessary.” Tess folded her napkin carefully and placed it beside her plate, giving herself time to find the right words. “Last night was…I’ve never experienced anything like it. I felt so damn free.”

“I don’t quite know how to describe it, but you’ve always made me feel that way—free.” Clay rubbed her face. “Last night was even more than that…something special, something all unto itself. I felt like we were somewhere out of time—where no one could touch us.”

“I know,” Tess said softly. “I feel the same way, and now it’s gone.”

“Is it?”

Tess stared at her hands. “I don’t know.”

“I think we could find that place again—every time we touch.” Clay reached across the table and clasped Tess’s hand, entwining their fingers. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I love you. I have always loved you and always will. I know I fucked up—”

Tess looked up sharply. “Don’t. I don’t want to keep dragging the past around with me, at least not the parts that keep hurting. So I don’t want to hear ‘I’m sorry’ from you again.”

Clay nodded, her gaze searching Tess’s.

“There are a lot of things I want to say to you.” Tess took a shuddering breath. “But first I have to know—did you know Ray blackmailed your father?”

Clay grew very still. “I suspected there was some kind of deal…” She shook her head. “My father doesn’t share all his dealings with me. In fact, he doesn’t share a lot of things with me. He tells me what he wants me to know, and I suppose I’m partly responsible for not pushing back more.”

“Well, you couldn’t have been responsible for any of this.”

“What did you learn?” Clay asked.

“According to Leslie, who’s representing me legally, by the way, Ray signed the rights to the land away a long time ago. For quite a lot of money.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Even if you had, that wouldn’t have been your fault. You were taken advantage of just as much as me.”

Clay let out a breath. “Thank you.”

“I want to pay it back.”

Clay’s brows came down. “Pay what back?”

“Whatever money Ray took for the drilling rights. I want to pay it back and I want your father to tear up the contract—or whatever the legal term for it is.”

“No.”

Tess straightened, the anger she thought she’d conquered surging through her. “Excuse me?”

“No,” Clay said, her jaw set. “Whatever Ray did, it’s not your responsibility to undo. My father paid Ray, and the money is gone now. Ray either spent it or put it into the farm. You’re not going into debt to pay back what my father willingly paid—he could have fought Ray. We could have fought Ray.”

“If I pay it back,” Tess said, hating the idea of owing anything to Clay’s father even by association, “can you convince your father to return the rights?”

“That’s not going to be necessary.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Townsend and I came to terms, and he signed over the rights to his land. I’m not going to drill on your farm, Tess.”

“Pete?” Tess couldn’t wrap her mind around it. “But I thought he was so opposed.”

Clay shrugged. “Money is a great motivator. He changed his mind when the price was right. I’m certain that was his plan all along.”

“Pete…God, Pete always has an angle.” Tess shook her head. “He’s probably going to keep hounding me to sell him the farm now, especially since he knows what’s under the ground.”

“Well, you just keep saying no.”

“NorthAm is going to drill in this county, isn’t it?” Tess said.

“I told you I wouldn’t lie,” Clay said, hoping she wasn’t driving another wedge between them. “We will. The fuel is down there, the state wants it, the country needs it, and the locals will benefit more than they’ll risk. It’s inevitable, Tess.”

Tess looked out the window. The ridge behind the house was obscured by rain, but she could still see the machines in her mind—foreign creatures she didn’t trust and didn’t want. “But you don’t need to be here?”

“We can get what we want elsewhere.”

“At what cost?” Tess narrowed her eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“In the greater scheme of things, not a whole lot greater expense—a few more thousand feet of pipe, a few more drill heads to tap the deepest reservoirs—nothing we haven’t done elsewhere.” Clay touched Tess’s hand. “We’ll still be close when we drill, though, Tess. I’ll do everything in my power, I promise you, to see that we have clean wells. I’ll make the same promise out loud to everyone in the county in another week.”

“I believe you. But what is your father going to say? What about the attorneys he’s sending up here?”

“I’ll talk to him. In the meantime, you can go ahead and tell Leslie to pull out her big guns if she needs to. But I don’t think you’re going to have a fight.”

“And what about you? How do you feel about all this?”

“I’m not my father,” Clay said quietly, “and I’m not NorthAm. And I meant what I said earlier—I would never do anything to hurt you. I’d quit first.”

“There’s something I need to say to you,” Tess said quietly, grasping both Clay’s hands and holding them in her lap. “I’ve blamed you unfairly all these years, and I’m sorry for that.” Clay started to protest and Tess stopped her words with a brief firm kiss. “Let me finish. I loved you so much, and I didn’t realize I was doing it, but I made you responsible for making all my dreams come true. We were young, I know, but what we had was real. Real enough that it’s lasted all this time.”

Clay’s heart leapt and she couldn’t catch her breath. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m done looking back. I’m saying that I’m really glad to meet you, Clay Sutter.”

Clay cradled Tess’s face, kissed her softly, and drew back. “Very glad to meet you too, Tess Rogers.”

Tess slid over into Clay’s lap and put her arms around her neck. She kissed Clay again. “I love the way you taste. You have the sweetest kisses.”

Clay’s arms came around Tess’s waist and she nuzzled her throat. “I love everything about you.”

Thunder boomed and Clay laughed. “The earth just moved.”

“Clay?” Tess jerked away. “Wait.”

“Okay,” Clay murmured against her throat. “Whatever you want, Tess. This is enough if it’s—”

“No.” Tess jumped up. “Look!”

Clay looked out the window. An orange glow mushroomed over the rise behind the farm. Clay bolted to her feet. “Jesus. That was an explosion. That’s our camp.” She raced for the door, Tess behind her. Clay jammed her feet into her boots and yanked the door open. “I’ll be back. I—”

“I’m coming,” Tess said.

“No, you’re not.”

Tess pushed Clay out the door and slammed it closed. “Don’t argue. Let’s go.”