Like That Endless Cambria Sky

Then there was the question of exactly how important Gen’s pride was to her. Did she care about her ego more than she cared about Ryan? Right about now it didn’t seem that way. She felt broken without him, wounded, as though a part of her body were missing. And the thought of him suffering, too—it made her feel a range of emotions from sorrow to guilt. He hurt because she was too stubborn to even talk to him.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Gen told Kate one morning before work, as they were standing on Kate’s deck, drinking coffee and looking at the roiling ocean.

“Do what?”

“Stay mad at Ryan.”

“Oh, Gen,” Kate said. “Then don’t. Just don’t.”

“Is it that simple?” Gen turned to Kate, the silvery horizon at her back.

“It can be,” Kate said. “He didn’t mean to hurt you, you know.”

“I do know that.”

“But?”

Gen sighed. “I don’t even know anymore. I don’t even know why I’m holding onto this.”

“Then don’t,” Kate said again.

“Yeah.”

“I think he’s it for you,” Kate said gently. “I really do. Do you want to let him go because of this? Because of money?”

Gen shrugged. “It sounds stupid when you put it that way.”

“Well. That’s something to think about.”





Gen had to help Kendrick move out of the guest cottage. His residency was finished, and he was scheduled to fly back to Chicago the following day. She’d promised that she would help him by picking up the paintings that he’d be taking with him so she could have them crated and shipped to his home address.

She was nervous about going to the ranch, because she worried that she might run into Ryan—and she also worried that she might not. She thought she was ready to talk to him, but she didn’t know how it would go. There was a good chance that he was so hurt by now by the way she’d shut him out that he would close the door in her face if she went up to the main house.

Still, she thought she had to try.

As she drove her car up the road that led to the guest house, she felt a little sick and quivery, as though some dark creature were gnawing at her insides. She just wanted to feel okay again; she wanted to feel whole. And she didn’t think she could do that without Ryan.

At the guest house, she found Kendrick amid the disarray of packing. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and he looked rested and happy.

“How’s it coming along?” she asked.

“Good, good. Though I really hate to go.” He faced her and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets.

Gen grinned at him. “I remember when you couldn’t wait to get out of here.”

“Yeah, well.” Kendrick looked at his feet and smiled, embarrassed. “I can’t thank you enough. For everything.”

“Oh, Gordon.” Impulsively, she rushed forward and hugged him. At first he didn’t hug her back—she imagined that he was taken aback by her sudden gesture—but then he put his arms around her and squeezed.

“Yes, well,” he said after they’d separated. He was blushing slightly. “I have the canvases for shipping.”

“Good.”

He showed her the paintings stacked against one wall of the little house, and she browsed through them. She gazed in awe at the stunning images, bursts of vibrant color that hinted of the wind, the water, birdsong, the rush of the creek over rocks.

And then she saw it.

“Gordon. What’s this?” She pulled away the top canvases so he could see the one underneath.

“Ah. Cambria Pines III.”

“This is the one you didn’t want to sell. But Bellini sold it anyway. How did you get it?”

Kendrick looked at her, puzzled. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“It arrived here about a week after the show in New York. The note enclosed with it said it was from you. I just assumed you’d worked things out with Bellini.”

“What? I …”

And then she knew where the painting had come from.

“I … Gordon, I have to go. I’ll be back for the paintings. Later. I have to …”

She hit the door at a near run.

She had to find Ryan.





Chapter Thirty-Five


He wasn’t at the house. Of course he wasn’t—it was the middle of a workday. Still, she almost wept with frustration. Breanna had answered the door, and she stood in the doorway looking at Gen.

“I need to see Ryan,” Gen said, breathless.

“Well, it’s about time.”

Breanna wasn’t sure where he was, so she called him on his cell phone. He didn’t answer.

“Cell service is sketchy out here,” Breanna said, though Gen already knew from her own experience that it was true.

“Please,” Gen said. “Do you have any idea where he might be? I really … I just need to see him.”

Breanna put one fist on her hip and regarded Gen. “Well, he said something about a fence in the southwest pasture.”

“Great. Good. How do I get there?” Gen was already stepping down off the porch on the way to her car.

“Can’t get there by car. You’ve gotta ride.”

“Oh, God,” Gen said.





Smirking, Breanna led Gen to the stables. They saddled up two horses—the chestnut named Bailey that Gen had ridden before, and a gorgeous black mare Breanna called Molly. Breanna gave Gen some gentle instruction as she used the mounting block to climb atop Bailey’s back.

“You ready?” Breanna asked as Gen settled into the saddle, feeling a little scared, intimidated by the size of the animal.

“I guess.” At least her discomfort with the idea of riding was crowding out her fear about seeing Ryan again. That was something.

They headed out on a trail that led into the hills past the old barn. They moved at a walk, which Gen assumed was for her benefit.

“Could we hurry?” Gen called ahead to Breanna.

“Fine by me. But are you up for it?”

“I … Yes. Let’s just go.”

“All right.” Breanna nudged her horse into a trot, and Bailey followed suit. At first the jostling was alarming, and Gen worried that she’d be thrown off and under the massive animal’s hooves. But Breanna called instructions to her, and soon Gen was following the horse’s rhythm and feeling pretty sure that she could do this.

Gen knew the ranch was big, but it seemed like they’d been riding forever before they finally arrived at the southwest pasture. Breanna brought Molly to a stop, and Bailey came up alongside her.

“Doesn’t look like he’s here,” Breanna said, unnecessarily. Gen could see that for herself. The countryside was dotted with the big, black bodies of cows grazing or just standing around—but no Ryan.

Gen let out a little frustrated moan.

“You want to go back, or you want to try the new barn?” Breanna said.

“Breanna!” Gen shouted at her.

“Okay. New barn it is.”

They turned around and went back onto the path.





By the time they got to the new barn, Gen’s ass was sore and she was nearly weeping with the need to see Ryan. The horses trotted up to the barn, and Ryan appeared in the doorway. A couple of ranch hands were unloading hay bales from a truck. They looked at her and then at Ryan with curiosity.

She scrambled to get down from Bailey’s back, which seemed impossibly high off the ground. Her foot got stuck in the stirrup and she stumbled backward. Ryan was there to catch her.

The feel of his body against hers as he righted her made tears spring to her eyes. She wanted to melt into him and then stay there, warm and safe, forever.

“Gen,” he said, stepping away from her after she’d gained her balance.

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