Always a McBride (20 page)

“But you still loved each other,” Janey argued. “He wouldn't have cheated on you just because you weren't talking for a couple of weeks.”

She made it all sound so simple—and it should have been. The only problem was…nothing was ever simple when it came to love. Tears welling in her eyes, she choked, “You don't understand, Janey, dear. We thought our breakup was for good. We hadn't spoken in nearly a month. It was horrible. I was so lonely, I cried myself to sleep every night. Mother was so worried about me, she sent me to Denver to visit my cousin, Harriet. I kept hoping Gus would call, but he never did.
Harriet finally convinced me that I had to go on with my life. When the brothers of some of her friends asked me out, I went.”

“Why?” Zeke asked, frowning in confusion. “You were in love with Dad. Why would you go out with someone else?”

“Because I didn't know how else to get over him,” she replied. “I'd never been so miserable in my life. I hated dating other men—even though they were all very nice. I just wanted Gus. After two weeks, I couldn't stand it any longer, and I went home. That's when I discovered that while I was gone, Gus had been on a trip of his own.”

“Let me guess,” Joe said flatly. “He went to Cheyenne.”

She would have given anything to deny it. They'd have believed her if she'd lied, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. They were entitled to the truth, regardless of how much it hurt. “He'd been thinking about trying bronc riding on the rodeo circuit, but he didn't want to leave me. After we broke up, there was no longer any reason not to go. The first rodeo was Frontier Days…in Cheyenne.”

“Oh, my God,” Merry whispered, tears filling her eyes. “It's true, isn't it? Taylor really is Dad's son, isn't he? He's our brother.”

Her heart aching, Sara nodded. “Yes, dear, I believe he is.”

F
or the first time since his mother had died, Taylor was glad she was dead. She would have been thoroughly ashamed of him, and with good reason. In his quest for revenge, he had, no doubt, destroyed the only illusion Sara McBride had left about the man she had loved all of her adult life…his faithfulness.

Just thinking about it sickened him. Pacing the confines of his room, he wandered over to the window and stared blindly out, the hurt in Sara's eyes forever etched in his memory. Wincing, he silently cursed himself. What the hell had he been thinking? He might be a bastard at times—especially when he was in the courtroom—but he didn't make a habit of hurting old ladies. Or young ones, either, he added grimly. But within a matter of seconds, he'd not only devastated Sara McBride, he'd done the same to Phoebe.

God, he was a jerk! How could he have ever thought that he would actually enjoy telling Sara that Gus had
played around on her? What kind of unfeeling monster was he? He might as well have stabbed her in the heart with a knife. And then there was Phoebe…

She had to hate him, he decided. He'd given her no choice. Just as she'd guessed, he'd used her to get to her friends. From the moment he'd first appeared on her grandmother's doorstep, he'd done nothing but lie to her. He'd thought he was being so smart, that she wouldn't find out, and if she did, he wouldn't care. Talk about arrogance.

He cared, all right. He loved her—and it scared the hell out of him. The lack of a father in his life had taught him at an early age not to let himself care about anyone but his mother. He'd built a wall around his heart and no one had come even close to scaling it until he'd met Phoebe. And like a fool, he'd made her hate him because all he'd thought about was revenge—and his own anger. And now he was paying the price for that.

Idiot! he silently raged. Selfish, self-centered, vindictive idiot. The minute he'd found out his father was dead, he should have immediately turned around and gone back to San Diego. So what if his car was wrecked? He could have hired a taxi—or taken the bus, for that matter—to Colorado Springs, then flown home. Once his car was repaired, he wouldn't even have had to come back for it. He could have just had it shipped home.

But, no! He'd stayed…and fallen in love with a woman who could now no longer stand the sight of him. Then, to make matters worse, he'd actually started to like his brothers and sisters. And they'd seemed to like him…until they'd found out he was their brother.

God, what a mess! He couldn't have screwed things
up more if he'd tried. For a moment, he considered packing his bags and heading back to San Diego first thing in the morning. After all the hurt he'd caused, it was the least he could do. But, dammit, he cared too much to just give up and walk away. He couldn't even think about leaving Phoebe. And what about Janey and Merry and his brothers? They were his family now. How could he forget that when he'd wanted siblings his entire life?

They might not want anything to do with him, but that was too damn bad, he thought grimly. He couldn't turn his back on them any more than he could on Phoebe. He just had to find a way to fix this. The problem was…he didn't have a clue where to begin.

 

He went to Ed's Diner for dinner.

Seated at her grandmother's kitchen table, her appetite nonexistent as she apathetically pushed around the cereal she'd poured for herself, Phoebe told herself she didn't care where he was. After the way he'd lied to her, he could go lose himself in the woods, and she wouldn't so much as blink. In fact, she hoped he did. Then she'd never have to see him again.

That's right,
that irritating little voice in her head mocked.
You don't give a flip about the man at all. That's why you spent the last hour crying your eyes out—and why you haven't eaten two bites of that bowl of mush that used to be cereal. You always lose your appetite over people you couldn't care less about.

Disgusted that she couldn't lie to herself, Phoebe abruptly rose to her feet and crossed to the sink to dump her cereal. Okay, she thought bitterly, she admitted it. She still loved him, and that infuriated her. How could she have any feelings but contempt for a man who de
liberately set out to destroy a family he didn't even know? He didn't care about her. How could he? Time and again, he'd done nothing but lie to her—even after they'd made love! While she'd been falling in love with him, the only thing he'd been thinking about was the McBrides and getting revenge.

Images flashed before her eyes…his first morning at her grandmother's, when she'd introduced him to Merry…the night she'd gone with him to dinner at Joe's and he'd met the entire family. And then there was the camping trip…the loving they'd shared, the access he'd gained to the ranch, his face as he'd stood at his father's grave. She should have known then that something was wrong, but she'd never thought to suspect he might not be who he said he was. Why would she? He'd seemed so honest.

So much for trusting her gut, she thought with a sniff. She couldn't even believe the desire she would have sworn he felt for her. There couldn't have been any real emotion behind it, no caring for her as a person. She'd been a means to an end, nothing more. If she hadn't known the McBrides, he probably never would have given her a second glance.

And it was that, more than anything, that hurt. She'd made it so damn easy for him to use her. Had he suspected she was falling in love with him? She'd never said the words, but he had to know that she wasn't the kind of woman who gave herself to just anyone. Just thinking of the way she'd melted in his arms made her cringe. Even now, was he laughing at how naive and trusting she'd been?

Tears welled in her eyes at the thought, but before she could give in to them, she heard the front door open and knew Taylor was back from his solitary dinner at
Ed's. Horrified, she quickly brushed the tears from her eyes. She would not let him find her moping around the kitchen with wet eyes, crying over him. Her heart might be breaking, but if she had anything to say about it, he'd never know it!

Her chin set at a determined angle, she hurriedly stepped over to the pantry and pulled out everything she needed to make a chocolate cake. Her heart pounding, she couldn't think of a single recipe, but she didn't let that stop her. Grabbing a bowl, she began sifting flour, then adding salt, sugar and cocoa to the bowl without measuring anything.

She knew the exact moment he stepped into the open doorway. Suddenly, her mouth was dry and her palms damp and she dropped the wooden spoon she was using to stir the concoction on the floor. Swearing softly, she picked it up and carried it to the sink. With every step she took, she felt Taylor's eyes on her.

“Are you all right?”

His gruff question reached out and stroked her like a caress, making her want to cry all over again. Don't! she wanted to yell at him. Don't pretend you care when we both know you don't. But she couldn't say that—not without crying. Instead, she kept her eyes on the awful mixture she was stirring in the bowl and said stiffly, “I'm fine.”

“I thought maybe we could talk.”

So now he wanted to talk to her, she thought, amazed. After weeks of using her and lying to her and not telling her the truth about himself, he now wanted to spill his guts? She didn't think so. “I don't have time tonight. I have to get this cake in the oven.”

“Maybe later, then?”

“I doubt it. I'm busy.”

She knew she was being rude, but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to hear his story. He'd lied to her and everyone else in town, and as far as she was concerned, there was no excuse for that. She was sorry that he'd grown up without a father, sorry that he'd never known Gus McBride, but that didn't justify what he'd done. Two wrongs didn't make a right.

She couldn't have said how long he stood there, obviously hoping she would change her mind. It seemed like forever. She finished mixing the cake, then greased and floured a sheet pan, and still he stood there, watching her. Ignoring him, she slipped the pan into the oven. She didn't realize he was gone until she turned around and found the doorway empty.

The tears came in a flood then, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. Collapsing in a chair at the kitchen table, she buried her face in her folded arms and cried and cried. Why did she have to love him so much? she wondered tearfully. She could never trust him again, not after what he'd done. She didn't even know who he was. Oh, sure, he'd told her that his name really was Taylor Bishop and he was a lawyer from San Diego, but so what? He'd told her a lot of things, and only God knew how much, if any, of it was true. All she could say for sure about him was that she knew next to nothing about the man himself. Had the tenderness of his touch been real or feigned? Had he ever been interested in her or had that just been another part of the lie he'd perpetuated from the moment he hit the city limits of Liberty Hill? She liked to think she could tell when a man was just pretending, but he'd fooled her from the moment he met her.

She didn't have much faith in her own judgment any
more, and it was all his fault. He'd done this to her, to
them,
and she hated him for that. He'd destroyed something wonderful, something she'd never felt for anyone else, and it was gone forever.

That
was what she cried for—the love she'd lost and would never have again. And it hurt. Just hours ago, she'd thought there would never come a time when she didn't want to be with him, but now, she just wanted him gone. Maybe then she could start to forget.

She hadn't planned to ask him to leave, but now she realized that she couldn't continue to let him stay there. It just hurt too badly. Every time their eyes met, every time she heard his step in the hall, she was reminded of everything she had lost. She couldn't stand the pain any longer.

In the morning, she would ask him to leave, she promised herself. The decision made, she should have felt better. But when she finally went upstairs an hour later, she couldn't close her eyes without seeing Taylor reaching for her. Long after the house had grown quiet, silent tears trailed down her cheeks. She'd never been so miserable in her life.

 

The next morning dawned gray and rainy. Exhausted, her eyes scratchy from too little sleep and too many tears, Phoebe would have liked nothing better than to pull the covers over her head and spend the day in bed. But she hadn't forgotten her resolve to ask Taylor to leave. Putting it off would only make it harder in the long run.

Resigned, she rolled out of bed and winced at her image in the mirror. There was no way she could face Taylor looking the way she did. She was pale and drawn, her eyes still swollen and red from crying. He'd
take one look at her and know she'd spent the night crying over him.

“So clean yourself up,” she muttered to her image in the mirror. “Put on some makeup, for heaven's sake!”

In the end, she not only put on makeup, she pulled on her favorite summer dress and washed her hair, brushing it dry until it fell in a soft cascade of golden waves past her shoulder. A final look in the mirror assured her that she looked presentable. Satisfied, she headed downstairs to start breakfast. She still didn't know how she was going to tell Taylor to leave, but she didn't have to come up with the words right now. He wouldn't be down for at least another hour.

Her thoughts on what she would make for breakfast, she stepped into the kitchen, only to stop at the sight of Taylor ladling fresh ground coffee into the coffeemaker. “You're up early,” she said stiffly. “Here, I'll do that.”

“I've got it under control,” he replied as he added water. “I was just making a cup of coffee before I go.”

Phoebe's heart stopped dead in her chest. “Go? Where are you going? To Ed's for breakfast? You don't have to do that. You're still a guest here. Breakfast is included with the price of your room.”

“I'm leaving,” he said quietly. “I think it's for the best.”

He couldn't have stunned her more if he'd slapped her. He couldn't leave! she thought, completely forgetting that she'd planned to ask him to do just that. He couldn't just walk away…not after what they'd shared. Didn't he realize that she loved him? They needed to talk. She had to tell him—

But even as she opened her mouth to do just that,
images from yesterday swam before her eyes and she stiffened like a poker. What in the world was wrong with her? Where was her pride? This was the same man who had lied to her and taken advantage of her, and she was going to tell him she
loved
him? She didn't think so!

Her arms folded stiffly at her waist, she said, “I'll figure up your bill. Excuse me.”

Later, she never knew how she made it to her grandmother's study without falling apart. Her heart aching, she wanted to throw herself down on the old-fashioned chaise that had been in Myrtle's office for as long as she could remember, but she didn't dare. If she let herself cry now, she didn't think she would ever be able to stop. So she sat down at the desk instead and turned on the computer.

It only took a matter of seconds to print out his charges. Staring down at the single piece of paper, Phoebe felt tears threaten all over again. He'd been there for weeks and this was the only record she had to show that he'd been there at all. How could this be? Where was the charge for breaking her heart? How did she put a price on that? What about the lies he'd told her and everyone else in town? Surely there had to be a price to pay for that. What number did she put on the pain he'd caused?

She didn't have an answer for that…because the pain kept getting worse. After paying his bill, he would walk out the door and not look back. And in the process, he'd rip her heart out by the roots.