A Little Bit Country: A Little Bit Country / Blackberry Summer

“Plan on spending the afternoon with me and we’ll meet Clay and Skip at the dance later.”

Rorie agreed, although her enthusiasm was decidedly low. The last thing she wanted was to be at some social event with Clay. Never mind how Dan would tease her if he ever discovered she’d spent part of her vacation square dancing with the folks at the Grange.

“Bye for now,” Kate said.

“Bye,” Rorie murmured, waving. She stood in the yard until Kate’s car was out of sight. Not sure what else to do, she wandered back into the house, where Mary was busy with preparations for lunch.

“Can I help?” she asked.

In response, Mary scurried to a drawer and once again handed her a peeler. Rorie started carefully whittling away at a firm red apple she’d scooped from a large bowlful of them.

“I don’t suppose you know anything about cooking?” Mary demanded, pointing her own peeler at Rorie.

“I’ve managed to keep from starving for the last few years,” she retorted idly.

The merest hint of amusement flashed into the older woman’s weathered face. “If I was judging your talents in the kitchen on looks alone, I think you’d starve a man to death within a week.”

Despite her glum spirits, Rorie laughed. “If you’re telling me you think I’m thin, watch out, Mary, because I’m likely to throw my arms around your neck and kiss you.”

The other woman threw her a grin. Several peaceful minutes passed while they peeled apple after apple.

“I got a call from my sister,” Mary said hesitantly, her eyes darting to Rorie, then back to her task. “She’s coming to Riversdale and wants to know if I can drive over and see her. She’s only going to be in Oregon one day.”

This was the most Mary had said to Rorie since her arrival. It pleased her that the older woman was lowering her guard and extending a friendly hand.

“I’d like to visit with my sister.”

“I certainly think you should.” It took Rorie another minute to figure out where Mary was heading with this meandering conversation. Then suddenly she understood. “Oh, you’re looking for someone to do the cooking while you’re away.”

Mary shrugged as if it didn’t concern her one way or the other. “Just for the evening meal, two nights from now. I could manage lunch for the hands before I leave. It’s supper I’m worried about. There’s only Clay and Skip who need to be fed—the other men go home in the evenings.”

“Well, relax, because I’m sure I can manage one dinner without killing off the menfolk.”

“You’re sure?”

Mary was so completely serious that Rorie laughed outright. “Since my abilities do seem to worry you, how would you feel if I invited Kate Logan over to help?”

Mary nodded and sighed. “I’d rest easier.”

* * *

Rorie stayed in the kitchen until the lunch dishes had been put away. Mary thanked her for helping, then went home to watch her daily soap operas.

Feeling a little lost, Rorie wandered outside and into the stable. Since Clay had already shown her the computer, she decided to spend the afternoon working in his office.

The area was deserted, which went some distance toward reassuring her—but then, she’d assumed it would be. From what she’d observed, a stud farm was a busy place and Clay was bound to be occupied elsewhere. That suited Rorie just fine. She hoped to avoid him as much as possible. In three days she’d be out of his life, leaving hardly a trace, and that was the way she wanted it.

Rorie sat typing in data for about an hour before her neck and shoulders began to cramp. She paused, flexing her muscles, then rotated her head to relieve the building tightness.

“How long have you been here?”

The rough male voice behind her startled Rorie. Her hand flew to her heart and she expelled a shaky breath. “Clay! You frightened me.”

“How long?” he repeated.

“An hour or so.” She glanced at her watch and nodded.

Clay advanced a step toward her, his mouth a thin line of impatience. “I suppose you’re looking for an apology.”

Rorie didn’t answer. She’d learned not to expect anything from him.

“I’ll tell you right now that you’re not going to get one,” he finished gruffly.

Six (#ulink_e8277228-226a-5452-9efb-e4d68d89c869)

“You don’t owe me anything, Clay,” Rorie said, struggling to make her voice light. Clay looked driven to the limits of exhaustion. Dark shadows had formed beneath his eyes and fatigue lines fanned out from their corners. His shoulders sagged slightly, as if the weight he carried was more than he could bear. He studied her wearily, then turned away, stalking to the other side of the office. His shoulders heaved as he drew in a shuddering breath.

“I know I should feel some regrets, but God help me, Rorie, I don’t.”

“Clay, listen...”

He turned to face her then, and drove his fingers into his hair with such force Rorie winced. “I’d like to explain about Kate and me.”

“No.” Under no circumstances did Rorie want to listen to his explanations or excuses. She didn’t have a lot of room to be judgmental herself. She had, after all, been dating a man steadily for the past few months. “Don’t. Please don’t say anything. It isn’t necessary.”

He ignored her request. “Kate and I have known each other all our lives.”

“Clay, stop.” She pushed out the chair and stood up, wanting only to escape.

“For the last two years, it’s been understood by everyone around us that Kate and I would eventually get married. I didn’t even question the right or wrong of it, just calmly accepted the fact. A man needs someone to share his life.”

“Kate will make you a wonderful wife,” she said, feeling both disillusioned and indignant, but she refused to let him know how much his indiscretion had hurt her. “If you owe anyone an apology, it’s Kate, not me.”

His responding frown was brooding and dark. “I know.” He drew his fingers across his eyes, and she could feel his exhaustion. “The last thing in the world I want is to hurt Kate.”

“Then don’t.”

He stared at her, and Rorie made herself send him a smile, although she feared it was more flippant than reassuring. “There’s no reason for Kate to find out. What good would it do? She’d only end up feeling betrayed. Last night was a tiny impropriety and best forgotten, don’t you agree?” Walking seemed to help, and Rorie paced the office, her fingers brushing the stack of books and papers on his cluttered desk.

“I don’t know what’s best anymore,” Clay admitted quietly.

“I do,” Rorie said with unwavering confidence, still struggling to make light of the incident. “Think about it, Clay. We were alone together for hours—we shared something beautiful with Star Bright and...her foal. And we shared a few stolen kisses under the stars. If anything’s to blame, it’s the moonlight. We’re strangers, Clay. You don’t know me and I don’t know you.” Afraid to look him directly in the eye, Rorie lowered her gaze and waited, breathless, for his next words.

“So it was the moonlight?” His voice was hoarse and painfully raw.

“Of course,” she lied. “What else could it have been?”

“Yes, what else could it have been?” he echoed, then turned and walked out of the office.