Radclyffe - Homestead

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.

Ella parked the SUV behind the B&B and turned to Tess and Clay. “We’re here.”

“Clay,” Tess whispered. “Wake up.”

“Tell Ella to drive around some more,” Clay muttered, holding on to Tess more firmly. She’d been to bed with women who hadn’t excited her, or comforted her, as much as spending the last forty minutes wrapped up in Tess.

“Why?” Tess asked.

“I like the way you smell. A little bit like clover and sunshine.”

“I think that’s one of my cows you’re taken with,” Tess said, her voice oddly husky.

“Cows are nice too.” Clay didn’t need to open her eyes to know Tess was frowning, two small vertical creases etched between her red-gold brows. Tess wouldn’t want compliments from her. So she wouldn’t tell her she felt even better than she smelled—firm and smooth under Clay’s cheek. Clay wished she could taste her skin. She bet it would be warm as honey. She wouldn’t tell Tess that either. “Cows or not, I’m not moving.”

“Yes, you are,” Tess said, laughter and a tiny sliver of irritation in her voice. “I’ve got a farm to run, and you need to be in bed.”

Clay opened her eyes a fraction. Tess’s shirt was a rich, vibrant yellow. Must be why she smelled like sunshine. “What day is it?”

“Saturday.”

“Hmm.” She closed her eyes again and burrowed closer. “What are you doing today?”

“What? Oh—if I hurry, I’ll make it before the end of the milking, so I can get the stats on the morning yield, make sure the herd is all right. The vet is coming at eight to vaccinate the calves. I need to get soil samples for the state—” Tess halted. “God, Clay. You don’t want to hear this boring stuff.”

“I do, Tess,” Clay murmured, envisioning Tess striding around the farm, confident and intense and at home. Tess had made her believe in home, once upon a time. “I’ve always imagined you on the farm. Happy. I wish I could help.”

“You can.” Tess’s voice had grown distant, lost its gentle warmth. “You can find some other place to dig your wells. Somewhere away from our farms and our water.”

“What if there isn’t any other place?” Clay whispered, not even sure she’d spoken loud enough for Tess to hear. But she must have. Tess’s hand on her back was gone. The soft caress of fingers through her hair only a memory.

The SUV door opened and Ella said, “Need a hand?”

“Yes,” Tess said.

“No,” Clay said. “Go away.”

“Okay,” Tess said. “Ella, you take her feet and I’ll take her—”

“All right, all right,” Clay said. “I’ll move.”

“Careful,” Tess said quickly.

Clay sat up slowly, waiting for her head or stomach to rebel. Neither did. The headache was ferocious, but her stomach had settled, and when she opened her eyes partway and carefully peered out the window, her vision seemed normal until the bright light struck her retinas and transformed into ice picks. She slammed her eyes closed. “Ow, damn it.”

“What? What is it?” Tess gripped Clay’s arm.

Clay didn’t want to get out of the SUV, not because moving was going to hurt—she’d survive that—but because Tess was beside her, and the anger and distrust that had stood between them like a stone wall had tumbled down. A temporary reprieve. Once they left the vehicle, they would both be thrown back into their separate lives, and Tess would be lost to her again. But she couldn’t keep her here under false pretenses, either. It wasn’t fair to play on her sympathies. Tess’s caring nature was just one of the things that made her so special. Tess truly, genuinely cared about all living things—animals, plants, people. She would reach out, offering help or solace or encouragement, to anyone who needed it. Clay didn’t want to be just one of the many who was lucky enough to benefit from Tess’s tenderness. Not when she knew what it was like to be the only one, the heart of Tess’s heart. She gently drew away from Tess’s hold.