Page 64 of Willing to Wed the Rancher
Clementine’s eyes filled first with surprise, then hurt. Without saying a word, she started toward the house, the baby still in her arms.
“Wait.” Clarabelle reached out a hand as if that could somehow make her sister come back to her. But with a stiff spine, Clementine didn’t break her stride.
“I’m leaving today,” Clarabelle called, unable to keep the quiver from her voice. “Right now.”
Clementine still didn’t stop.
“Goodbye, Clem.” Clarabelle wanted to tack on another apology, but over the past week, she’d already said she was sorry a dozen times in a dozen different ways. That had to be enough.
Even so, she waited for Clementine’s response.
“I love you.” Clarabelle spoke the words and prayed her sister would at least turn and look at her one last time. But Clementine paused for only a moment as she reached the door, then she ducked her head and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.
The ache in Clarabelle’s heart swelled painfully.
Maverick laid a gentle hand upon her arm, his eyes radiating compassion. “I’ll go get our horses while you say goodbye to Ryder.”
“You don’t have to come with me.”
“I want to see you off.” He gave her nose a soft tweak. “It might be a long time until I get to see you again.”
Her throat closed up. She knew what he was leaving unsaid—that they might never get to see each other again. Although she wanted to protest more, that she couldn’t take him away from his work, she was glad he’d offered to ride with her into town.
She said her goodbyes to Hazel, Ryder, and the few ranch hands who were around. Then she mounted and rode away from her childhood home and everything familiar. As she reached the woods and the bend in the road that would take her home from view, she paused and glanced back for a final time.
Clementine stood at the front window of the house. Clarabelle couldn’t see her clearly, didn’t really know if she was watching. But she lifted a hand in farewell anyway.
Slowly, Clementine raised a hand too and pressed it against the glass.
Clarabelle’s throat ached with a swell of emotion. It wasn’t the reconciliation she’d hoped for, but it was something she could carry with her in the days to come.
After stopping by the farm and getting the rest of what she needed, she and Maverick pushed their horses hard into town. Even with the fast pace, Clarabelle was glad for Maverick’s company and was relieved when he promised to do what he could to make sure the livestock and produce at the farm were taken care of. It was the least they could do for the memory of Eric and to respect all the work he’d put into creating the farm. Maverick also promised to see if he could find a buyer for the place and insisted that he would send the sale money to her once he knew where she was settled.
Would she ever feel settled in a new place? Not only would she be a world away from everyone she loved, but she’d be a world away from everything that was familiar. She could admit she’d miss the rugged and often hard life in the mountains. She’d miss the breathtaking beauty. She’d even miss the hard work.
In her heart, she’d always consider herself a rancher. But hopefully she’d learn to love her new life too. As long as she had Franz by her side, she’d be satisfied.
As the town came into view, nestled along the Blue River between two mountain ranges, she searched frantically for a sight of the man she loved and wanted to be with for the rest of her life.
But she didn’t spot him or the children anywhere, and she didn’t see the stagecoach either. Was she too late?
She and Maverick galloped the last of the distance until they reached the livery, where the stagecoach usually departed. Maverick hopped down before she could and was already in the wide-open double doors of the barnlike structure.
“Grady?” he called into the shadows. “The stagecoach leave town?”
“Yep,” came a reply. “Left at nine a.m. sharp.”
Clarabelle released a huff of frustration. If only she’d come to her senses earlier. Or if only she hadn’t pushed Franz away.
“What time is it now?” Maverick didn’t carry a watch the way Franz did, since most ranchers told time by the natural rhythms of the livestock and the hours of daylight.
“About half past nine,” came Grady’s reply.
Maverick trotted back over to the horses and peered up at her. “How badly do you want to be with your man?”
“I can’t live without him.”
Maverick gave her one of his charming grins. “Then c’mon, darlin’. We’ve got some work to do.”
