The True Cowboy of Sunset Ridge (Gold Valley #14)(101)

And so he had figured that the alcohol, the meanness—all that was as inherited a trait as green eyes and dark hair. But the way she said it, as if the misery was a choice, as if they could choose something else... That struck something strange.

“It wasn’t Breanna’s choice to die. It was a terrible accident,” Nelly said, her voice like stone. “I know that. But somewhere in there, I let myself get lost in my own grief with it. In my own guilt. And my guilt doesn’t help anyone, does it?”

Her words felt far too close to scraping the tender spots on his heart, which he would’ve said that he didn’t have. Not even a little. Not even at all. Because he was Taggart McCloud, who didn’t give a shit about much of anything, who didn’t get caught up in emotion. Who didn’t worry about what anyone else thought.

Who didn’t care what might happen tomorrow. The Taggart McCloud he was—or the Taggart McCloud he showed the world—only wanted to drink, get laid and have a good time. He wanted to work hard and play harder. But he didn’t want anything permanent. He didn’t want attachment. He didn’t want anything other than to go to bed at night totally exhausted, so exhausted that he couldn’t think, and wake up the next morning, stumble out of bed and do the same thing all over again.

But just thinking about that left a strange, gnawing ache in his heart. Looking at Nelly, looking at her right now, her sadness, her strength, it made him feel... Lacking. It made him feel like all the things that he did, all the defenses he’d put up around himself just weren’t enough to make him...

The fact of the matter was, he never really thought about becoming a better man than his father. What he’d thought about was not dragging other people into this McCloud curse. All the things they were. He felt like that was a victory. Like that was better. His dad had gone ahead and had five sons and treated every single one of them like shit.

He had gotten married when he hadn’t been able to handle such a thing, his wife had left him and no one could blame her. Except for the fact that she left her sons to take the beatings. Until Gus had gotten sick of it and decided it was time to get rid of the old man once and for all. Now the land was theirs... And rather than sell it, they figured they’d continue to work it, but what he knew for a fact was that none of his brothers had a vested interest in carrying on the line, that was for sure.

It’s his choice.

“I think the guilt is sometimes unavoidable,” he said.

“Well, I’m tired of it,” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m sick to death of it, honestly. I like being a librarian. I like my quiet life. I don’t need more excitement than I have. What I have is excitement, whether that makes sense to anyone but me... It doesn’t matter. I don’t like drinking, I don’t like going out every night. Those aren’t the things that I regret. What I regret is how lonely I am. How lonely I feel. Because even though I have friends, I feel like I haven’t let myself... I haven’t ever really let myself connect fully with the people around me. Not since Breanna.”

“It was a terrible thing,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “I know. And I feel... I’m so... I’m so sorry that it happened. And mostly, I’m just sorry that I can’t go back and say something different to her the last time I saw her. But I can’t. I’ve been over and over it. I never go swimming anymore. Not because I’m scared, but because it just makes me think about her. What happened to her was a freak accident, and I get it. But I need to figure out all these... She haunts me. My grief haunts me. And my guilt. And I just want something different. I really do.”

“Then let’s go swimming.”

“What?”

“It’s a warm night. Let’s go swimming. Full moon. We can go down to the swimming hole and get on the rope swing.”

“Tag...”

“I’d say this is a night to banish some ghosts, wouldn’t you?”

She blinked. “Okay. Okay. Then let’s go.”



CHAPTER FOUR


SHE WAS SHIVERING, but not from the cold. Tag was right—it was warm outside. But much to her surprise, when he had taken her hand and led her outside, it had not been with clothes on. “No one’s out at this hour,” he said. Which was how she found herself walking naked through the woods with Tag McCloud.

“I’m going to step on something,” she said.

And that was how she found herself being lifted off the ground into his strong arms. He carried her through the trees, and she looked up, at the way the moonlight filtered through the branches, at the twinkle of stars beyond. And it felt like a dream. Maybe it was. Maybe she would wake up and she would be at home in bed. She would still be a virgin, and Tag would never have kissed her or touched her.

Then she reached up and brushed her fingertips over his face. His stubble was prickly beneath her fingers, his skin warm. And she knew she wouldn’t have imagined that. This exact feeling. The solid heat of his body, his chest hair. His muscles. Yeah, she couldn’t have imagined all that.

Then they were there, down at the water. It wasn’t the lake. The lake would’ve been a little bit too much. But the creek that was McCloud’s Landing was just fine. He set her down on the sandy shore and tilted her chin up to look at his face. “You good?”

The sincere asking of that question, from Tag, who was so rarely sincere, made her heart flutter.