Page 51 of An Endless Memory

“I do!” She dropped her gaze. “It’s been a long time. And most of those days were in a college bar. Or a right-after-college bar. Okay, it was line dancing.”

I laughed. “I’m just as guilty of being able to line dance to ‘Cotton Eye Joe.’” I twirled us around, and she held on tighter.

“I don’t look like it now, but I had my share of wild bar nights.” She screwed her face up. “I’m not sure if I should admit that, much less sound proud.”

“I’m sure I’ve got a story to match each of yours.” Mine probably outnumbered hers. “There’s not much else to do in Buffalo Gully.” The more members of my family left, the less there was to do. “It’s barely a map dot.”

“I think towns that are barely map dots are the best,” she said softly.

The song ended and switched to another slow country ballad. I had a playlist for the quiet times when I just needed to not think of the future and how monotonous it was. The times I was stuck carrying out the obligations required of a Knight so my family could have some freedom. Having her in my arms certainly accomplished the same thing.

“Why aren’t you married, Eliot?” When I lifted a brow, she rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“‘Barely a map dot’ towns don’t have a lot of options. I mean, there are plenty of decent women there.” Plenty might be stretching it. Buffalo Gully was small. “But none who wanted to give up civilization to live in the middle of nowhere around a bunch of cattle and horses and strange men.”

“You breed strange men too?”

I chuckled. “Some days, it feels like it. I have a high turnover. Between the pay, which is competitive in an overall low-paying field, and the isolation, guys move on. They go to different ranches, they find their piece of heaven to buy, they settle down and want to be closer to a larger community. Mostly, I get guys who want to learn the ropes but have their own aspirations.”

“They don’t want to work forever for the guy with the aspirations.”

The bleakness rose in my chest, creating that gaping cavity I toed dirt into. Someday, it’d fill. “Exactly.”

“No. Not exactly.” She peered into my eyes, hers jumping back and forth. “I said something not quite right.”

I steered us around the table. How’d she guess? My family never did. I made comments, they ignored them, we got on with our lives. That was how it worked. I wasn’t used to being heard. “Aspirations is a strong word. I prefer to think of myself as the guy with the obligations.”

We danced and she waited, her gaze warm on my face.

Damn, she wanted me to continue. “I guess when I was a kid, I would’ve said I wanted to be a cowboy when I grew up, but I also wanted other experiences.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. I mean, I travel for horse shows, but we never go that far.” And I’d backed off those. Our Arabians were so established by now I didn’t have to do a lot of ground-roots marketing. It was word of mouth and online advertising these days.

“Where would you go?”

“Hell, anywhere.” Again, she waited. I wasn’t getting out of this conversation. Maybe I should’ve gone to the street dance. But then I’d miss having her in my arms. “Some of the guys who come out to intern with me, or even to work for a few seasons, are from the East Coast. I’ve never been out there. I can’t get away for that long. I do these weekends, but I’m close to home in case anything happens.”

“Boston? DC?”

“It’s not the place, it’s the ability.” I ground my molars together. In the time of one song, she’d dug into the heart of my frustrations. Barns’s words streamed through my head. What are you fucking whining about now? “I just get a little wistful. I’m not like my mama.”

“How was that?”

I clenched my jaw again.

She tipped her head. “You don’t have to talk about her.”

“No, it’s only fair.” I didn’t usually like to discuss Mama. I’d been less to that woman than I was to Barns, and that was saying a lot. “She felt like she missed out on life. She resented us. And when she had a chance, she left. I’m not like her. I might want to travel, but it’s not a compulsion. I’m not a prisoner.” Those words rang empty. “I have a good life.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s wrong to want something different. Something you chose.”

“Sometimes being forced into things makes life interesting.”

She blinked. Shit.

“I’m so sorry.” She stopped and horror dawned in her expression. I kept my arms around her. “You can’t leave your home or your career, and now you can’t leave this marriage.”

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