“She hurt you a lot.”
“I’m no expert, but there’s no bigger hurt than that of betrayal,” Harper said. “To find out you loved what was never there, loved someone who couldn’t or wouldn’t give herself…because who she wanted, what she needed, wasn’t what you had to offer.”
Ryden wanted the mountains to echo the desperate screams of her heart. She’d never intended to deceive Harper; duplicity was not who she was or could ever be, and she desperately wanted this woman to believe and forgive her. But her decisions, and her new life, allowed for nothing more than a glimpse of what could have been.
She had made the trip because she had to see Harper, and tell her she was sorry, and prove what she felt had nothing to do with Moore or money. But fate had sealed the deal for her. This wonderful, hurt woman could never trust her, and the worst part was, she couldn’t blame her. The bottom line was, she had lied about who she was, what she did, and even what she looked like, and nothing she could say or do in the very limited time they had together would make Harper believe her intentions were honest and her feelings true.
Ryden didn’t know what to do. The fact that Harper, a woman completely out of her league, found her attractive was flattering and exciting, but what Ryden felt went above and beyond a mere weekend to remember. Would she spend the rest of her life regretting what could have been or regretting the memory of a beautiful mistake?
“I lied…to you.” Ryden shifted in her chair. “I hurt you and…I almost got you killed.” She stopped and both stared at the flames.
She took a deep breath. “I can say I’m sorry, say I never meant for any of it, but the simple fact is I…I can’t erase what I did, the same way you can’t erase your regrets for having trusted me.”
Harper sat listening, saying nothing, either because she didn’t want to interrupt or because she didn’t have anything to add to the indisputable truth.
“I wish I could say that if I could turn back time, I’d make different choices, but…I’d be lying. I took this job to save my life and I lied to you to protect yours.”
“I know.”
Ryden nodded. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I deceived you, does it?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.” Her heart sank in disappointment.
“But what bothers me most…” Harper sat forward, “is that you were so quick to give up who you were: your life, face, identity, to become someone else.”
“It didn’t seem like a sacrifice, then.”
“How could you so easily reject who you are? Who you’d become?” Harper sounded aggravated.
“Because I couldn’t appreciate what I had. I couldn’t see what life had given, just the things it had taken from me.”
“I can understand not being happy with how life sent you off, what it deprived you of. But, on the other hand, look at what it gave you. It made you a fighter, a woman capable of fending for herself and finding ways out when there were no doors.”
Ryden nodded. “That it did.”
“It made you the most beautiful kind of woman, the kind that’s too busy surviving to realize just how attractive she is,” Harper said. “Trust me, no amount of makeup or surgery can create beauty that isn’t there.”
“Thank you,” Ryden said halfheartedly. “I’m glad you think of me in those terms.”
“But?” Harper obviously caught the unenthusiastic undertone.
“The fact remains that you don’t trust me, and I’m in a witness-protection program that prohibits me from seeing you.” Ryden exhaled loudly. “An added stigma, another permanent reminder of everything I’ve done.” She got up. “My only regret about this ludicrous period is that I met you during it. I wish you’d come along before I sold myself. I wish you could have met the real Ryden, the one incapable of lies and worth trusting.”
When Harper didn’t react, she walked the few steps to the house. “I’m going to take a shower and retire for the night. Thank you for the lovely day and evening.” She opened the door and turned to look at Harper, who was lost in thought, staring at the dying flames.
“It’s funny,” Ryden said, “how life can give us insight into our alternate future, as if to rub in our faces how much we screwed up at the crossroads.” Forlorn, she entered the house and shut the door to what could have been.
*
Harper moved mechanically as she extinguished the fire and gathered up the dessert plates and wineglasses. She couldn’t stand to see Ryden hurt, and she didn’t know how to deal with the finality of the situation. Whether Ryden was trustworthy or not was not for her to judge, since Harper barely knew her, but what she did know was that this woman had thrown herself forward to take a bullet.
Ryden possessed a certain virtuousness and naïveté for a woman of her age that Harper had never witnessed. Life might have been hard for Ryden, but contrary to the way that most who traveled a rocky path reacted, she hadn’t become hard, and her purity was a genetic disposition, not an acquisition.
Harper could feel how much Ryden regretted having to lie to her, as well as the consequences of those lies, and she believed Ryden when she said she’d wanted to protect her. It would have been so easy for Ryden to confess what she’d gotten herself in to and ask for Harper’s help to get her out of a dangerous game, but Ryden had put Harper’s safety above her own.
The problem was, Harper didn’t want to believe she was ready or willing to trust another woman after Carmen, and another straight one at that. She’d given her heart before, and it had taken her years to come to terms with her own blindness and self-delusions.
She was incredibly attracted to Ryden; she’d struggled with that desire from the moment she’d first seen her. But she was too old and too burned to let attraction dictate her more profound need for an unconditional bond.
Stolen moments with a woman she was forbidden to contact was not Harper’s idea of a foundation to build on.
She heard Ryden moving around upstairs. Probably just getting out of the shower, since the guest bath was just above her head. Frustrated, she kicked the door to the dishwasher shut. Why the hell did this woman have to walk into her life? And why couldn’t Harper walk away from this condemned situation?
Was life testing her? Was she at a crossroads of her own, where her alternate future was being constructed as she stood in the kitchen picturing Ryden exiting her life for good?
Harper locked the door and switched off the lights. Years from now, would a potential glimpse into an alternate life fill her with remorse or relief?
Distraught, Harper walked quietly up the stairs and stopped at Ryden’s room, where she rested her hand on the closed door and silently bid her farewell, chastising herself for the decision she knew she would regret.
Chapter Forty-one
Ryden got out of bed when Harper stopped moving around downstairs. Certain Harper had gone to bed, and too upset to sleep, she wanted to go outside to feel the warm breeze and look at the stars. She went to the door and listened closely to make sure she couldn’t hear Harper and, when she didn’t hear any noise, turned the knob and opened it.
She jumped when she saw Harper standing there, three or four feet away. “Harper!”
Harper stood like a statue, saying nothing, her arms at her sides and a desolate expression on her face.
“Are you all right?” Ryden asked.
Still Harper didn’t move, but her eyes did. Ryden stood there as Harper’s gaze languidly descended, from her eyes, to her lips, neck, breasts—lingering there, before continuing to the rest of her body.
She should’ve felt exposed, in her snug T-shirt and bikini panties, but she didn’t. Ryden let Harper take her in, as she observed Harper’s face change from sad to…