Summary: Joe Cartwright makes a choice between his family and the woman he loves. (An extra scene for the Julia Bulette Story.)

Rating: T   Word Count: 716

Standing outside her door, the resolve that had fueled him all the way into town was beginning to waver around the edges. It was over, she’d said, though it had hardly even begun. She couldn’t have meant it. He’d heard the words, but he hadn’t believed her. No, she was going to have to do better than that to convince him. He took a deep breath and knocked.

Julia opened the door, clad in an emerald silk dressing gown accentuating her womanly charms, stealing his breath like she did the first time she welcomed him to her suite in the Palace.

“Little Joe Cartwright. I’m surprised to see you since I thought I made myself clear yesterday.  I have nothing more to say.”

“Well, I have a few things I’d like to say, if you don’t mind.”

Her brows quirked together; she didn’t answer.

“Please, Julia.”

She sighed, opening the door wider to let him in. “I’m rather pressed for time at the moment. What is it? What do you want?”

“The truth. I want to hear it from you. In your words. Not someone else’s.”

Her measured reply was tinged with annoyance and doubt. “Why do people always insist on the truth when what they really want is the reassurance that they’re right? Truth is opening a door that can never be closed again. It’s rarely pure and never simple, and in some cases it can do more harm than good. If you ask me it’s highly overrated.”

“So you’re not even going to bother to defend yourself?”

“It’s hardly worth the trouble. Besides, it wouldn’t make any difference. People are going to think whatever they want.”

”They don’t know you like I do.”

“You only think you know me. You think I’m sweet and soft, but how do you suppose I’ve gotten to where I am today? I’ve done things you wouldn’t imagine, and if I had it to do over I’d do them again. I’m that kind of woman, Little Joe. The kind that people whisper about; the kind a father warns his sons about. That is who I am.”

Yes, he’d heard the whispers, he’d been warned, but he wasn’t inclined to listen. Not even to his father. Not when it came to her. If it was choice between the two of them, he had already made up his mind.

“You’re so much more than that, Julia.”

“I wish I could be. For your sake.” The wistfulness in her smile made her even more beautiful.

“Just tell me who you’re protecting, and why?”

“Who says I’m protecting anyone?”

“Because it’s the only explanation I can come up with that makes any sense.”

“Just let it go. I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter. And for goodness sake, don’t look so anguished. No one can hurt me.” She poured herself a drink and raised her glass to him. “No one but you, my dear.”

How could she believe that? “Not me. I would never.”

“You wouldn’t mean to, of course. But you’ve been making it awfully hard for me not to fall in love with you. And believe me, that would be the absolute worst thing that could happen to both of us.”

He was already crossing the room toward her when she said it. He took the drink from her hand and set it on the dresser. “Would it?” The question was settled in his mind. The bone-deep hunger he felt for this woman could be nothing short of love. “It’s too late now anyway, isn’t it?”

Her mask had slipped, and he saw the truth. She didn’t resist when he pulled her into his arms and placed a kiss on her exquisite neck just below her ear; trailing a line of kisses down her throat he felt her soften and yield to what was inevitable between them. But there was a catch in her voice when she cautioned him. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

He caressed her lips in a soft kiss, easing the robe from her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor in a puddle of green.

“I know exactly what I’m doing.” Spoken with the unfettered optimism of youth, when everything seemed possible and nothing out of reach.

Words that would come back to haunt him.

 

END