Cowgirl Come Home (22 page)

“My secret weakness,” he said as she called out directions via an app on his phone. “Jen wasn’t an adventurous eater, and her tastes have rubbed off on the kids. But I’m holding onto the hope they’ll come to the hot side eventually.”

She’d enjoyed every bite. She’d enjoyed the company, too.

Had Austen’s public airing of their dirty laundry somehow liberated them from the past? Wouldn’t that be some sort of poetic justice, she thought glancing at the clock radio on the table between the two beds.

Seventy-thirty’s too early to go to bed.

Paul must have been thinking the same thing because he asked, “Do you like to gamble?”

“I gambled every time I got on a twelve-hundred pound horse. Figured that was enough excitement for a lifetime.”

“Good point.”

He dropped into a chair at the tiny round table and kicked up his booted feet.

He flicked on the TV and cruised up and down the menu of stations. “Movie?”

“Sure.” Bailey settled her tote bag on her lap and switched on the bedside lamp.

Over the years of being on the road with rodeo, she’d learned how to travel light and still carry everything she needed to work on jewelry. Well, not everything. She couldn’t do big wire wrapped stones or intricate solders, but she could finish a few more pieces for the fair.

“Action-adventure? I’ve been meaning to watch this, but it looked too violent for the kids.”

“Anything you want. I’ve become pretty adept at working and watching whatever’s on. Ross couldn’t be in a room with a TV without turning it on. In some fleabag motel in West Texas, he watched a Three Stooges marathon until I thought I was going to turn into one of them.”

“You’d make a cute Curly.”

She looked up. “Really? I was leaning toward Moe.”

“Naw. Curly. He was a sweetheart.” He hit mute. “Did you know his brother, Shemp, started out in the role but quit, and Curly took his place?”

“I did not know that. Thank you,” she teased. “Now, I have even more Three Stooges trivia crowding the limited space in my brain.”

He laughed and turned off the TV. “I’m too wound up from the flight to watch something. Wanna go for a walk?” He looked at her foot, resting on the extra pillow. “Oh, dumb idea. Sorry.”

His blush touched her. He was a kind person. Not once during today’s flight had he asked, “What’s in it for me?” She hadn’t asked herself that question, either, but now that they were alone in a hotel room, it seemed a bit disingenuous to pretend there wasn’t a large elephant ambling around.

“I went to the diner today to ask you out on a date, remember?”

He pressed his hand to his face, peeking between two fingers. “I know. I’m still waiting for you to forgive me for having the world’s biggest jackass for a brother.”

She set her work aside and curled her legs under her. “As much as I hate to admit it, your brother is right about one thing. I ran away. From you, your parents, my family, my life. I told myself I was running
to
something, but my freshman year was a disaster.”

He moved to the foot of the bed and sat, hunching forward, elbows on knees. “How?”

“I went from a big fish in a small pond to a guppy surrounded by a lot of local kids who knew each other and were a lot cooler than some hick girl from Montana. I cried every day for a month. I would have left, but I couldn’t afford to ship Charlie home.”

She looked at him and admitted, “And I had nobody to talk to about what I was feeling. You were my best friend. And you weren’t speaking to me…even if I had been brave enough to call.”

He polished off the last of his beer and tossed the empty can into the garbage can. “I didn’t leave the house except to go to school and work at the store for four months. When Meg came home for Christmas, she told me I was an idiot who had his whole life ahead of him.”

“She sounds smart. Did I ever meet her?”

“I don’t think so. She went straight from her BS to her master’s and doctorate. She teaches and does research on wolves, and was involved in their re-introduction to Yellowstone.”

“Wow. That is so cool.”

He nodded. “Not all the ranchers around here would agree with you, believe me.”

Bailey made a face. “When she was home, did you tell her about me?”

“She’d heard about the abortion from Mom. Meg’s the only one I told about the curse.”

“What did she say?”

He was quiet a moment then answered, “She called me a brat for trying to invoke some ridiculous, unsubstantiated hocus-pocus drivel simply because I didn’t get my way.”

He gave a wry laugh. “If I remember correctly, her exact words were, ‘Life isn’t fair, little brother. Just ask the wolves.’”

Bailey didn’t say anything for a moment. “Ross always dreamed about living off the grid. I think he saw himself as some old west cowboy bucking the system. Just him, his horses, and, maybe, me.”
As an afterthought.
“At the end of his last season, he had enough money and enough interest in Daz to line up some investors. He bought a place a couple of hundred miles south of here…without telling me.”

“Ooh. Bad idea. I speak from experience.”

“I refused to even go look at it. He left Daz with me and said he’d be back as soon as the fencing was done.” She found out later he picked up some gal from the circuit on his way through Bakersfield. “I’m sure he expected me to be a wreck without him. Instead, I got busy making and selling jewelry.”

She fiddled with the turquoise ring she’d made to celebrate the day her sales topped two grand.

“When he came back, we had a huge fight. He tried to paint this great picture of living off the grid. I told him I needed the Internet to sell my stuff. We were too far apart to even think about reconciling. I told him he could take Daz, but I expected half of the stud fees and a portion from the sale of Daz’s get from Ross’s mares.”

“Sounds fair. But I’m guessing he didn’t agree.”

She’d expected hostility and name calling. Instead, he’d looked dumbfounded. He honestly didn’t understand her at all. Somehow, that hurt worse. Had she really loved and married a man who didn’t know her?

“He was upset. Worried about how he was going to swing the deal without my help, but he didn’t argue with me. Instead, he went after our horse trailer that he’d lent to some guy hauling mustangs from Nevada. Something happened while Ross was there. Ross wouldn’t talk about it, but he came back with a shiner and a bloody lip.”

She’d spent nearly a dozen years tending his wounds.

“I gave him an ice pack…helped him get cleaned up. He offered to take me to dinner before he and Daz hit the road.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I thought—hoped—we might be able to be friends.”

“But it was too soon,” Paul supplied in a been-there-done-that tone.

“He tried using Daz against me. Said I was abandoning our
son.
”

“Letting Daz go was like losing a piece of my heart. But I couldn’t support us both at that point in my life, and I thought he’d be better off with Ross.”

“You made the only decision you could given the circumstances,” Paul said.

“Did I? Every day I wonder what would have happened if I’d said, ‘Okay, Ross. I’ll give Nevada a try.’ Maybe I could have made B. Dazzled work if I drove to the closest town every few days to fill my orders. Maybe I would have liked living off the grid.”

“Killing rattlesnakes with your bare hands.”

She snickered softly, grateful for Paul’s attempt at humor. “Exactly. Instead, I asked Ross to take me home. Ten miles. A stretch of Highway 99 I drove nearly every day. I know
what
happened because I’ve read the accident report. But, I can’t remember
how
it happened. And that’s what keeps me awake at night.” An understatement.

“Trauma like that doesn’t magically disappear, Bailey. My parents still talk about the night Neve Shepherd drowned.”

Of course, Bailey remembered the tragedy that shook Marietta to its core. “It happened the end of my freshman year.” Bailey hadn’t known Neve, personally—only senior
boys
showed any interest in underclassmen girls, but she’d never forget the look on her father’s face when he returned with the search party that found Neve’s body.

“I think Ross jack-knifed the truck on purpose.”

Paul’s grip on her fingers intensified. “Why would he do that?”

The same question Maureen asked every time Bailey brought up the subject.

“To hurt me.”

Paul started to speak, but she jerked her hand away and shook her head.

“Ross could be reckless. And impulsive. Even his friends called him a loose cannon. And he had a temper.”

“Like OC?”

She swallowed hard. “Crazy, huh? I left Montana to get away from my father and wound up marrying someone just like him. How Freudian can you get?”

Paul scrambled to a sitting position and moved close enough to take her face between his hands. “OC is a hothead. I can’t dispute the point. But people like OC Jenkins don’t go around offing themselves and the people they love just to make a point. That would be the equivalent of giving up. Can you see your father ever giving up on anything?”

She pictured the tall, slightly stooped figure pushing the walker into the hospital a few hours earlier. Alone. Determined. The way Ross looked after she told him she wasn’t going to Nevada with him.

Paul pulled her to him. “Accidents happen, Bailey. Ross had a lot on his mind, right? Distracted drivers make mistakes.” He kissed the top of her head. “Just ask Austen. I borrowed his brand new Tiburon to impress a girl I’d asked out. On the way there, I somehow managed to clip a telephone pole—an old one, thank God. I rolled the car
and
landed crossways on the railroad tracks.”

“Were you hurt?”

“Not a scratch. But the car was totaled. And Austen
wanted
to kill me. Mom wouldn’t let him.”

She brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across his brow. “I’m glad.”

Neither spoke for a heartbeat or two.

Bailey experienced the same sort of clarity she’d felt when she told Ross she wasn’t going to Nevada with him. She knew her future would be changed by the decision she was about to make. Right or wrong, sometimes you had to go with your gut.

“This is probably a mistake, Paul, but it wouldn’t be our first.”

He brought his lips to within touching distance from hers. “Are you making a pass at me?”

“Pretty much.”

She looped her arms around his neck and waited for him to make up his mind. Her heart pounded so hard he could probably hear it. She moistened her lips in anticipation.

“Good,” he said. “Because I want you worse than I ever did in high school. And we both know I couldn’t keep my hands off you then.”

He slipped his hands under the shirttails she’d pulled free when she removed her belt and unbuttoned the waistband of her jeans after eating too much Korean barbecue.

“The feeling was—is—mutual,” she admitted. “But…we’re not the same people we were in high school. What if the weight of all my baggage suffocates us both?”

The look in his eyes said he understood completely. “Mine will more than even out the load, Bailey.”

The thought of them hidden by a wall of scarred old trunks and bags made her smile. She risked touching his arm. The skin of his forearm seemed a good deal more freckled than she remembered, the reddish gold hair wiry and thick.

“I can’t promise you anything, Paul,” she said. “So much is riding on OC’s recovery and we both know how unreliable he is.”

His hands settled at her waist. His fingers were warmer than they should have been, his touch sweeter and more penetrating that she wanted to admit.

“We’re not kids any more, Bailey. We’re two single adults who still have a thing for each other. People make love all the time without being in love. Why shouldn’t we?”

She liked that point. Maybe his divorce had left him just as bruised and disenchanted as she felt. What was stopping them from taking advantage of this reunion?

She grabbed the hem of her shirt and tugged it up and off in one single fluid movement. “I’m in.”

She tossed it toward the nearby chair. Where it landed, she had no clue. Her gaze was locked on the delighted surprise she read in Paul’s expression.

“For real?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her chest.

She looked down, too. She couldn’t remember what bra she put on that morning. She certainly hadn’t dressed for seduction. Luckily, she’d grabbed the pink lace. Her favorite. “For right now. Will that do?”

“Hell, yes. Everybody says focus on the now. I can do that. I can do that very well…when I’m looking at you.”

She took a deep breath, fairly certain her breasts would swell against the sculpted pink lace.

“God, Bailey, you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

“Do you know what I remember?”

His tongue flicked back and forth across his lower lip. “No. What?”

“I remember that stupid shift knob of your truck poking me in the most inconvenient places at the most inconvenient times.”

He grinned and made a magnanimous gesture toward the bed. “No shift knobs in sight. But I could call Room Service if this is a sticking point.”

The last vestige of hesitation left her. She scrambled to her knees and tackled him. “The only thing I’m calling Room Service for is Death By Chocolate. I saw it on the menu. But first we have to work up an appetite. Sound like a plan?”

He wrapped his arms around her and rolled to one side, taking her with him. “The best plan evva, as Chloe would say. Let’s go for it.”

His lips were within inches of hers but he didn’t kiss her right away. First, he said, “I learned from our mistake, Bailey. I never travel without condoms.”

They’d used protection back then, too. But they’d been impatient. Careless. Rushed.

“Good thinking.”

She went off the pill when she and Ross got married, thinking they would start a family along with their new business. They’d tried but nothing took. For a period after his death, she’d beaten herself up about that, too. Now, she put the thought out of her mind.

Nothing was going to distract her from Paul’s kiss.