Jillian Hart - The Horseman

“Good.” Memories flooded her. Of family. Of helping her father build the big ranch house. Of so many good times. But not nearly as treasured as the ones she’d made here with Dillon. Now she had more memories to comfort her when she was alone.

There’s no reason to wait, she realized. She knew how it would end. She may as well handle it with as much dignity as she could. Even if her heart was dying. “It’s good for a man to have a son.”

“Or a daughter. I’m not choosy.” He flashed her that slow, lopsided grin, the one that always made her soul smile in return. “Daughters can inherit land, too. Daughters can learn to train horses.”

She could see his dreams. He wanted to teach a child how to ride a horse and how to handle them. He wanted to pass on the knowledge his grandfather had given him about horses, the land and life. It would make him complete. Make his life come full circle.

“As for this fellow-” he gestured to the stallion that was standing a few feet away, skittish but demanding more candy “-you want to come in and say goodbye?”

“Knowing him has been a privilege.” She climbed through the space between the rungs. The stallion had started the romance between them, that night of the season’s first snow. She remembered how Dillon had defended him, and befriended him and saved him.

Just as he’d done for her.

And he had saved her, she realized. If she hadn’t come here, if she’d chosen to live on her own, then she never would have known this man. The strength of him that could never break. The integrity. The tenderness.

Knowing Dillon had been a gift. One she would treasure always.

“Goodbye, handsome.”

His greatness shone over her like the sun, true and remarkable and, when Dillon opened the gate, that greatness didn’t diminish. It swelled and soared as the animal lifted his head, scented his freedom, neighed a warm trumpeting goodbye and trotted off, free. Leaping fences and crossing meadows until the prairie claimed him as its own.

The greatness, she realized, wasn’t the stallion’s. It was the man beside her.

“You’re looking pale, darlin’. Let me walk you back to the house. Get you lying down.” His hand lit on her shoulder, a tender claiming touch that left her wishing there was a way.

But she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t do that to Dillon, to this wonderful man she loved more than her life.

“Did you have a good time in town today?” he asked as he held the back door for her. “Did you overdo it?”

“No. I enjoyed it, very much.” She took off her wraps and hung them on the peg by the door.

“You didn’t buy hardly anything. I might be a humble horseman, but I can afford to buy my wife what she wants.” He drew her against him, folding his arms around her, cradling her close. “I love you, you know. You weren’t getting a taste of town life and wishing you lived there, were you?”

“No. I have treasured my time with you.” She wanted him to know how she felt. Wanted him to know this great love she had for him was endless.

She lifted up on the tip of her toes to give him her kiss. To lay the palm of her hand against his strong jaw. He was everything to her. Now, and for all time.

He could feel it in her kiss; she was sure. He cupped her head and kissed her in return. A hot, hard caress that matched her own need for him.

“Let’s finish this upstairs.” His intimate suggestion enlivened her. Made all her senses spin. She didn’t need to answer. He swept her into his arms and carried her upstairs, raining kisses over her face as he navigated down the tiny hall and into the room where their bed waited.

One more time. She was given this chance to love him once more. It was magic, his kiss, his touch. Thrilling as he laid her across the cool sheets and hovered over her.

“You are overdressed for this occasion, ma’am.” Flashing her a dimple, he tugged at her collar and freed her from her dress. While he kissed her throat and breasts, he unlaced her corset. The stroke of his tongue grew hot and wet as the lace gave way and his mouth closed over her nipple, suckling hard.

Desire snapped like a tight line through the core of her. She dug her fingers into his hair.

“Oh, yes.” She wanted him forever, to remember him just like this. The excited thrill of her body as he kissed his way down her stomach and the white-hot flash of pleasure as his fingers parted her. His low, deep groan when he found her wet and ready and lifting up for all of him. The amazing glide of his thickness stretching her open, filling her, making them one, making them whole.

Two hearts, one soul.

How was she ever going to find the strength to walk away? Katelyn watched Dillon sleep, his hair tousled from lovemaking, the sweat drying on his brow. She loved him so much her spirit ached with it. She couldn’t tell him the truth now. She loved him too much.

As he loved her.

“Katelyn,” he murmured in his sleep and reached out for her.

She put her hand in his but didn’t let him pull her close. He sighed, holding on to her hand so tight, even in sleep. As if to say he intended to hold her forever.

And at what cost? She had failed him. It was only a matter of time before his love eroded slowly and as surely as sand on an ocean shore, moved by a current too strong to resist. Time would pass, and if Dillon could accept her barrenness, then his desire for a child would go unrequited. Become stronger until one day he would gaze at her with disappointment in his eyes.

The slow death of their love would be twice as painful. And if she stayed, she would be asking too much of him.

The fear that she wasn’t enough, wasn’t good enough, rose up hard and fast and blinding. She loved Dillon too much to fail him. She couldn’t do that to him. To herself. The end result would be the same anyway.

Walk away. It was the only solution for them both. He would hurt, but he’d get over it. She couldn’t take this pain anymore. It rose up like a serpent from the sea, twining around her spine, twisting around her entire being. Crushing her body, heart and soul. There was no escape from the black sorrow.

There never would be.

He will be happier without me. Thinking of all the ways Dillon would benefit from her leaving was the only way she found the strength to let go of his hand. The courage to slip the wedding ring from her finger. The faith to face a future without the love of her life.

She took one look back before she crossed the threshold. Love for him burned inside her as bright as a summer sun, radiant and everlasting and strong enough to bring light to anything. Even to the darkness of her fear and her sorrow.

She was doing this for him. So he would have a better life. So he would be free to find a woman who could give him a son. Her legs trembled as she descended the stairs. The deepest part of her was breaking.

Keep going. She was doing the right thing. Walking through the parlor, her steps whispering around her. This house wouldn’t always be empty. Isn’t that why Dillon had always chosen to travel, when he had the land and the money and the horses to stay here and build a life?

The yard was sullen and silent, long with shadows as the daylight waned. Dark came early this time of year, and it felt as if it were coming into her. The shadows inside her lengthened, blotting out all the happiness she’d known here.

One day children would run in this yard, shrieking as they played tag and blindman’s buff. Little boys with Dillon’s dark untamable hair ruffling in the wind as they threw baseballs back and forth. Or wrestled in the grass. Or pulled toboggans along the snowy ground in search of the perfect slope to speed down. Little girls with Dillon’s dimples playing with their dolls on the front steps or riding horses in the endless fields.

She could see Dillon seated on the front porch on a summer’s evening, reading his ranching magazines, content while his children played around him. And a pretty, kind woman who would bring a tray of lemonade and coffee as an evening treat.

It was a happy picture. The best gift she could give him. Her lifetime of unhappiness without him was worth happiness in his.

Forgive me, Dillon. Guilt assailed her as she padded down the road. She wanted to turn back. With all her soul she wanted to race into his house, fall onto their bed and make binding, passionate love to him. To never let him go. Ever.

Each step she took was agony. Every breath was torture. What if she did turn back? What would be waiting for her? Dillon’s rejection? Or his love? And how about the future? No, it wouldn’t work. She wasn’t enough. She never would be. And she loved Dillon too much.

She had to keep going. Although it felt as if she were breaking from the inside out. And leaving little pieces of her heart, of her soul behind her as she went. With every step she took away from Dillon’s home, she lost more of herself.

She’d figure out a way to survive. She would exist, grow older as time passed. But live? No, it was impossible. She’d left her heart and soul behind, the deepest and most vulnerable part of her, which was somehow a part of Dillon, too.

She would always love him. Always be grateful to him. He’d given her a gift far more precious than gold. He’d given her love. He’d shown her what true love was. And that she was worthy of it, for one brief time. Being loved had changed her.

She would be able to get through the bleak days ahead because of him. Because of the memories he’d given her. And the love that still lived inside her.

It always would.

Twilight wrung the last rays of light from the day. A somber sunset of storm clouds and darkness descended upon her, oppressive and lonely.