“Chamomile. Although I’m not sure there are enough calming vibes in those tea leaves to soothe the frustration I’m feeling that you didn’t tell me your mother thinks we’restill married.” She dropped into one of the seats at the kitchen island, her head slumping forward to rest in her hands.
Regret pinched. He cleared his throat to explain, but her head popped up, her eyes blazing.
“Gibson, how could you not mention her condition to me? When I asked her caregiver how long she’d been with your mother, she said over two years. Which means you hired her while were still together.” Her volume rose at the same time the kettle beeped for the water. “Regardless of what happened between us, I care about your mom.”
Grateful for the extra moment to formulate a reply, he took his time pouring two cups of tea.
“I hired her during a stressful time for us. The media coverage had really intensified for you and we were dealing with our own problems. I didn’t want to add to that.” Lifting the mugs, he pivoted to the island, sliding one in front of Lark and keeping the other one for himself.
“But she’s family. At the time, she was my family, too.”
He rubbed his nape. “I know that, Lark, but I worried you might feel an undue burden to help because you’re a mental health professional, and that wouldn’t be fair to you.” He slid into the seat next to her at the island.
“I would have wanted to help, but you robbed me of the chance.” She pushed aside the cup he’d poured and swiveled on her barstool to face him fully. “You carried everything in your world on your shoulders, never sharing with me. So is it any wonder I felt like I had to do the same?”
“You felt like you had to shoulder your burdens on your own,” he repeated, recognizing that she was upset and not quite following why she wasthisupset. He’d been trying to protect her, damn it. Why was that so wrong?
Sure, he understood that she had wanted to be a bigger part of his life and he’d denied her that by trying to manage his problems alone. In retrospect, that hadn’t been fair to either of them.
But he felt like he was missing something more.
“That’s right,” she snapped, sliding off the stool to pace the length of the kitchen, agitated energy fairly vibrating off of her as she moved. “In case you missed it, I pride myself on being independent, too. That’s why I never asked to travel with you, because I knew you liked the time on the road to bond with your teammates.”
Surely he hadn’t heard her correctly.
“Wait. You would have come on the road with me?” He wanted to slow down and talk about that, because he would have appreciated her steadying presence in that last crap year when he’d been with the LA team and the media had lambasted his team and him at every turn.
“So no matter how hard it was to stay at home and live like a single woman while my husband kept an existence separate from me, I did it because I knew what I had to deal with was nothing compared to the pressure the team and the media put on you.” She reached the window and swung around to pace the length of the room again, her arms crossed tight around her body. “And you, Mr. Calm and Composed, Face of the Franchise, never complained that you had too much on your plate.”
Gibson was out of his depth. But then, he’d never seen Lark this upset. Except, of course, for the night she’d walked out on him.
Rising to his feet, he moved closer to her without interrupting her path. He wished he had the right to wrap his arms around her and slow her down. To hold her tight and tell her everything would be all right. “Lark, please. What’s going on here? Is this all about me downplaying Mom’s problems? Because I know I should have told you—”
“No. It’s not about that.” Stopping her restless prowling, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Although I’m hurt about that, I didn’t come here to argue with you about what happened in the past.”
Her tone shifted. Growing cooler. Calmer. And yet, the change made him wary. She stared at him with steady green eyes, as if steeling herself.
“Okay.” He reached for her, wanting to take her hand in his, but she sidestepped him to move back to the counter stool. “What did you want to talk about then?”
He rested his elbows on the gray-and-white quartz but remained standing. His eyes followed Lark’s movements as she sipped her steaming tea. The scent of chamomile filled the air.
She continued, “We had a chance to chat after the judge gave his decision. Jessamyn and Fleur plan to stay in Catamount. Fleur can go ahead with her ideas for a restaurant on the land. And we’ll give Josiah Cranston thirty days to vacate the premises.”
He’d be glad to see the last of the ranch’s shady tenant who’d been willing to lie under oath for a payday.
Gibson reached across her for his own mug of tea, wishing they could return to the night they’d spent at the cabin. When every conversation hadn’t been fraught with land mines, and they’d been deliriously happy just to touch each other. Take care of each other.
“There will be a celebration at the Cowboy Kitchen for sure,” he mused as he took a sip of the drink. “Fleur is the most talented chef this sleepy town has ever seen.”
For an instant, he thought he spied an answering light in Lark’s eyes. But it faded again, and she drew a long breath.
“I also came by to let you know that I’m leaving right after Jessamyn’s wedding this weekend.” When he made to interrupt, she held up a finger to indicate she needed another moment. “And it only seemed fair that I let you back out of our date ahead of time. I think you’ll want to when you hear something that I should have shared with you a long time ago.”
Warning prickled the skin at the back of his neck. Wariness tightened his muscles. The feeling was reminiscent of the foreboding he’d had the day he’d pulled up to their house, only to discover she was leaving. But this couldn’t be the same because they weren’t together now.
“We agreed to attend the wedding together. I’m looking forward to it.” He knew there was nothing she could tell him that would change his mind about wanting to work things out between them.
But had he urged things forward too fast with his public declaration under oath? Was this her way of pushing back?