Kyland - Page 73/81

Kyland, Kyland, Kyland.

What did you do?

God, what did you do?

Go to hell. I do. Every day. For you.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Kyland

I jolted as a loud banging sounded from my front door. What the hell? I assumed it was one of the hill folk, but why they were pounding like that, I didn't know. I put my paperwork aside and started for my bedroom to get a shirt. I had only put on jeans after my shower. But when the banging grew more insistent, I swore under my breath and turned toward the door. When I pulled it open, surprise caught in my chest. It was Tenleigh and she was standing there, obviously out of breath, wearing dark jeans and a white top that scooped down, showing a glimpse of cleavage. She must have changed from earlier that day. She was so beautiful. My body surged to life in response. But when I met her eyes, and they suddenly filled with tears, my blood instantly cooled and I took a step forward. She held up her hand and took a big, shuddery breath.

"You won that scholarship." She shook her head. "I didn't win it, you did."

I froze, and my breath hitched. We simply stared at each other for what felt like a long time. Finally, I managed, "How'd you know?"

She sagged against the doorframe, her face contorting as if she was going to sob. "You just told me."

I stared at her, not knowing what to say. Denying it now seemed pointless.

Christ. She was never, ever supposed to know that. Ever.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and stood looking at her as she gathered herself together. When she finally spoke, she said simply, "Why?"

I shrugged as if it was simple, because when you got right down to it, it was. "Because I loved you so desperately. I still do. Because I couldn't leave you here."

**********

Four Years Earlier

"Kyland Barrett?" I rubbed my sweaty palms down my jean-clad thighs and stood up.

"Yes," I said way too quickly

The secretary, a young woman with long blonde hair, smiled at me as her eyes slid down my body. I was dressed terribly for this classy, impeccably designed office. I had been afraid to sit down on the light gray couch, worried I'd get some kind of smudge on it. It's not like I could do anything about that, though. The only clothes I had were old and worn and had been used not only to attend school in, but to collect metal, trap badgers, collect wild grapes . . .

"Mister Kearney will see you now," she said as I offered her a small, tight smile.

"Thank you."

She walked ahead of me down a long hallway, her hips swaying. Our footsteps were soundless on the plush gray carpeting. On the clean, white walls were old-fashioned black and white pictures of what must have been the very early days of the coal mines—men in overalls and coal dust blackened faces standing unsmiling at the entrance, having obviously just emerged from the dark earth.

The secretary stopped at a door at the end of the hall and opened it, gesturing me inside. I nodded and walked past her into Edward Kearney's office. The door closed with a soft click behind me.

"Did you forget to ask me something about the scholarship last night?" Edward Kearney said before he used the golf club in his hand to hit the ball on the floor at his feet. I watched the golf ball travel down the green portion of carpet and clunk softly into the hole at the far end. I cleared my throat.

"I did, Sir." He turned to me, leaning on his golf club. "I, uh, I'm sorry. It was a surprise and I wasn't prepared. I didn't know you'd come to my home to tell me about the scholarship, and I wasn't thinking clearly."

He furrowed his thick black brows. "Weren't thinking clearly about what?"

"About the fact that I can't take it. I want to transfer it to someone else."

He laughed, a sharp, surprised sound. "Why would you want to do that?"

I ran my hand through my hair. "I have my own reasons for that, Sir, but I figured if I won it, it's mine to give to someone else if I choose to."

When Edward Kearney had shown up at my house the night before, I'd been shocked, almost rendered speechless. I had no idea he came to inform the recipient of his or her win in person. I hadn't been ready. But as soon as he'd left, as soon as that fancy black car had pulled away from my house, I'd gotten myself together and prepared the words I needed to say. And so here I was.

Edward Kearney chuckled and turned to walk back to his desk. He leaned against it, crossing his arms over his broad, barrel chest. He was silent, both of us staring at each other. His black hair, sprinkled liberally with gray, had a straight, severe part down the side. His suit was obviously expensive and tailor-made, his shoes polished to a high mirror shine. I straightened my spine and didn't look away. His eyes narrowed, but there was some kind of recognition in his expression as he took me in.

"You can't transfer the scholarship. You were admitted to Columbia University—and you accepted. The scholarship you won is being processed to pay that school."

I closed my eyes briefly. Columbia University. For a second, a fierce longing squeezed my gut. But then I pictured Tenleigh with her black eye, the defeated expression in her eyes. I thought about Shelly and the defeated expression on her face when she'd told me she was pregnant by some nameless trucker who wouldn't take no for an answer. This town was tough on men, but it was even tougher on the women, and that was the simple truth. There was no way I could take Tenleigh with me. I didn't have the money for a plane ticket, an apartment for her, hell, even for more than a few meals. And if I left for four years, earned a degree, what would happen to Tenleigh in that time? Would the defeat become part of her like it did to so many in these coal mine towns? Would the poverty slowly chip away at that beautiful spirit? The beautiful spirit of the woman I loved with my whole heart? How could I leave her here when I couldn't protect her? I couldn't. It would kill me.