romantic on Morgan’s part, not in the slightest.
Taking her to Conroe Ranch was something he felt obligated to do because he felt a certain duty to her. His father had been married to her mother, and they’d lived under the same roof and worked together for years. It wouldn’t matter that they’d been estranged for far longer than the two years she’d been gone from the ranch. Not when Morgan felt a responsibility to her.
She was well aware that if news of the accident hadn’t brought her name back into his mind, apart from quarterly checks and at tax time, Morgan might have gone on for years more—perhaps for the rest of her life—without ever wanting to contact her or even thinking of contacting her.
Or thinking about her at all.
Selena knew all that because it was the brutal, unvarnished truth. She also knew, despite Morgan’s insistence that this was “doctor’s orders,” that she had a choice. She could either refuse to go, or she could give in and let him take her to the ranch.
Her heart shook with a crazy mix of terror and groundless hope at the idea of going with him, of being with him. It was because of that groundless hope that she realized what she needed to do. Perhaps she hadn’t been hurt enough before. Perhaps what she truly needed to forever inoculate herself against Morgan Conroe was to again put her heart in harm’s way for one final devastation. She’d got over the first one, so she’d surely know how to get over him a second time if she had to.
“I meant what I said about bunking someplace else while you’re there,” he said, and she tried not to let herself show her reaction as his callused thumb brushed impatiently against the tender underside of her wrist.
“N-no need,” she said, then gave her wrist a tug that prompted him to release her. She hoped he hadn’t noticed the small stutter. “I suppose you’d rather not wait until morning.”
“You’ve only got one bed.”
“What if I’m carsick again?”
“Then we’ll either come back here, stop as often as you need to, or find a motel for the night and try it again tomorrow.”
Selena stood up stiffly. “We’ll see how I feel after I pack my things,” she said, and turned away to start for the bedroom.
The hearty meal had perked her up significantly, so it wasn’t such an ordeal to pack. When she finished, Selena sat down in the armchair to rest for a few moments. She noticed the blow-dryer she’d left sitting nearby, so she reached for it to wrap up the cord and put it in her suitcase.
Once upon a golden time she and Morgan been friends, good friends. Once upon a golden time, she’d worshiped the ground he walked on. And once upon that same golden time, he hadn’t minded.
In her head, Selena knew that her once upon a time had burned away long ago. But in her heart, once upon a time was still a last magic wish that lingered on in a tantalizing mirage over a future yet to be seen.
Maybe it would take going back to Conroe Ranch and seeing it all from the perspective of two years away that would knock a little of the golden glow from that sweetly remembered time.
And perhaps it was because she was hurting and weary and in a deeply emotional and sentimental mood that she was going back. It could even be because it was an instinct to retreat to a place of remembered security when you were feeling weak and needy. Though she was certain she’d regret this, Selena couldn’t seem to muster the will to tell Morgan no and make it stick.
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