Chapter 22
Rock Creek, Nebraska 1872
Buck's hands moved with mechanical precision as he gathered Lara's possessions, the fading daylight barely illuminating the room. Each item he touched felt like a betrayal, a reminder of the lies he believed she had woven. The rhythmic thud of approaching hooves went unnoticed, drowned out by the roaring of his own thoughts and the dull ache in his chest.
"Buck?" Lara's voice, breathless and tinged with panic, broke through the silence. She ran up behind him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "Didn't you hear me calling you? What are you doing?"
Buck stiffened at her touch, his jaw clenching as he fought to maintain his composure. "You are well," he stated flatly, his voice devoid of the warmth it had held just hours before.
Confusion colored Lara's reply. "I am feeling better," she said slowly, uncertainty creeping into her tone.
"Good." The word fell from Buck's lips like a stone as he tossed her bag at her feet and strode past her without a glance.
"Buck?" Lara's voice cracked, a mixture of confusion and hurt.
Buck's response was cold, his back turned to her as if he couldn't bear to look at her. "I want you to go, Lara."
"What?" Tears welled up in Lara's eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. "I don't understand."
"Get out of my house," Buck's words cut through the air like a knife.
Buck's mind raced with images of Lara embracing the captain, blinding him to the present moment. He failed to register the genuine confusion etched on Lara's face, the tremor in her voice as she questioned him. Where he expected to see guilt, there was only bewilderment. The fear and anger in her eyes, born of an encounter she longed to explain, he mistook for the telltale signs of a deceiver cornered. In his pain, Buck saw only what he feared most - a woman aligned with the man who had once sought his demise, a living embodiment of past wounds reopened.
He silenced the small voice urging him to seek clarification, to allow her words to bridge the chasm of misunderstanding growing between them. Instead, a part of him, raw and wounded, yearned to match hurt for hurt, to carve out the softness she had cultivated in his heart. In this moment, all he wished was for her to vanish, taking with her the tender memories now tainted by suspected betrayal.
"I thought, well I," Lara struggled to find her words, her usual composure crumbling in the face of Buck's coldness. "I don't understand. What about last night?"
"Payment for room and board," Buck's response was curt, each word carefully chosen to wound.
"No," Lara's voice was barely above a whisper, her heart feeling like it was being torn apart. "You said you loved me."
"You wouldn't have given yourself to me otherwise," Buck's words pierced through Lara like shards of glass.
In that moment, Lara's hurt transformed into anger, a shield against the pain threatening to overwhelm her. "How could you?" She spat, her hand connecting with his cheek in a resounding slap.
"Just go," Buck's voice was firm as he dragged her to the porch and shut the door behind her. "Before we both do things we regret."
The echoes of Lara's sobs vibrated through the heavy wooden door. Normally, hearing her cry would have torn at Buck's heart, but right now, he wanted her erased from his life. Each sob felt like a mockery of the pain he was feeling.
On the other side of the door, Lara pounded until her hands ached, her cries gradually softening into quiet whimpers. Her world, already shaken by her father's appearance that morning, now felt as though it was crumbling around her.
As the night deepened, Lara gathered herself, her tears drying on her cheeks. She mounted her horse and rode back to town, her posture rigid, her face a mask of indifference. Buck had become a painful realization that she couldn't trust her heart, a bitter reminder she wasn't enough.
Inside the house, Buck leaned against the door, his own eyes stinging with unshed tears. The anger that had fueled him began to ebb, leaving behind a hollow ache. He had lashed out, wanting to hurt Lara as he had been hurt, but in doing so, he felt as though he had lost a part of himself.
As the silence of the night settled around them, both Buck and Lara retreated into the familiar territories of anger and defensiveness. It was easier to be angry, to build walls, than to face the vulnerability of their emotions. In their pain and their reactions, they were more alike than either would care to admit