Rebel Cowboy (18 page)

There was not a clear line between him and Mel, and he was reluctant to make one. Because if he had to make a line for them, he’d have to make a line for everything. Hockey. This ranch.

If he made lines, he’d falter when he reached them. If he set no lines, only worked toward building something every day…maybe eventually…he could reach something without screwing it all up.

You are so full of shit.

Well, whatever worked. He forced himself out of bed, scratching his fingers through his hair, remembering how Mel had tangled her hands there.

Fuck.

“You’re up, I see.”

He startled at the female voice, at Mel standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was completely dressed, and it didn’t look like the clothes she had on yesterday, even though he knew they were. No wrinkles, no damp spots. Just ready-to-work Mel.

The relief he felt at the fact that she hadn’t gone was…yeah, fuck.

“Um, yeah. I’m up.”

“I fed and watered Mystery, and I made you some toast. I was a bit tired of eggs.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“I…I have to take today off,” she said, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. He couldn’t read her expression. Part sheepish, part…he didn’t know.

Because you don’t know jack shit about people.

“The whole day.”

“Well, don’t look so concerned,” he replied, ignoring all the things going on in his head. His chest. He forced a smile. “You should have days off. I never meant for you not to have days off.”

“You’re paying me an awful lot for days off.”

“You’re giving me an awful lot.” He cringed. “Not—”

“No, I know.” She managed a small smile, pushing a few wayward strands of hair off her forehead.

Shit. This was awkward, and he didn’t even know why. What had been different about last night? It was just more of that…forgetting thing they were doing.

Minus the part where they’d said they needed each other. Wasn’t that more than…escape?

“Anyway. I’ve got to get the stuff with my dad’s nurse situated. I really can’t put that off.” She chewed on her lip like there was something else she wanted to say, but she didn’t.

Because they were not in a relationship. Not the kind where you told each other everything, confided. Wasn’t that perfect? He’d suck at that anyway.

You haven’t so far.
“So far” being the operative words. Why did his brain have to keep arguing with itself? Maybe he was getting those mountain crazies she’d talked about the other day. Let her go take care of her crap. She’d come back. For fuck’s sake, he could probably tell her to jump off a cliff and she’d come back. She was seeing this through, because that was Mel.

And if you asked her to stay? Would she come back, or would she run far, far away?

Yeah, he didn’t want to think about that. “It works out. I was going to make a trip out to the llama breeder this week, and I bet I can do it today.”

“Isn’t that over in Preston?”

“Yeah.”

“You can’t drive out there on your bike.”

“Sure I—”

She slapped her keys to his palm. “Take my truck.”

He stared at her keys. “What are you going to do?”

She glanced back at the kitchen thoughtfully, and then she smiled sweetly. “I’ll take your bike.”

“Noooooo. No.”

“Don’t be a baby. I’m an excellent driver.”

“In your big-ass truck. It’s a
motorcycle
. It’s a completely different set of skills.”

“I’ve driven a motorcycle before, Dan.”

“When?”

She smiled sweetly. “Tyler had one.”

“He absolutely did not.”

“He did too!” When he only glared at her, she slumped a little.

“Okay, his brother had one and he taught me to ride, but still. I know how to handle a motorcycle. Don’t you trust me?” She fluttered her lashes at him, like it was a joke, but it felt bigger. This all felt bigger, and he knew he should get the hell away from bigger before he crashed it all.

But he ran his palm down her braid instead. He stepped closer instead. He did everything he knew was wrong instead, because it didn’t feel wrong, and he didn’t know how to fight that.

“I trust you.” He cupped the back of her neck, pulling her mouth closer to his, though he didn’t close the distance completely. “You trust me with your truck?”

Her eyes searched his, all seriousness. So much so he almost told her to forget it, almost released her and changed the subject.

“Yes,” she said on little more than a whisper.

They were talking about driving each other’s vehicles. Nothing else. So why did he feel all cracked open and not up to the task? “Good.”

“Yeah, good,” she said on a wavery exhale. “Um, I have to get going, but… If you stop by the ranch when you’re done, we can switch.”

“Or…you can come back when you’re done.” He rubbed his hand up and down the back of her neck, some kind of satisfaction working through him that her shoulders relaxed, that she leaned against his hand.

He brushed his mouth against hers, because the curve of her bottom lip, the way her mouth was slightly parted, was irresistible. “And if it’s a rough day, I can make you forget all over again.”

Her mouth curved just a hint, so he kissed her again, until her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he was ready to make her forget
right now
.

But she eventually pulled away. “I really do have to go, but I’ll bring your bike back.”

His grip on her neck tightened in spite of himself. “And you’ll stay?”
Not supposed to ask that, dipshit.

“I…I’ll stay,” she said, her eyes wide and serious again.

So he released her, and forced a smile and a joke and everything that was ten million times lighter than he felt.

“Don’t be surprised if my llama herd multiplies on your day off.”

She smiled ruefully. “Nothing you could do would surprise me at this point, Dan Sharpe.”

He tried to smile back. Considering everything confusing and deep he felt about her surprised the hell out of him, he was pretty sure there were quite a few ways he could surprise her.

Not always the good kind of surprise.

“Be careful, honey.”

She gave him a little nod. “Have a good day, Dan.” And then she was gone, and he was alone in this tiny bedroom. With nothing but the prospect of llamas to keep him going.

Well, at least it was something.

Mel probably shouldn’t get as much of a kick out of driving Dan’s motorcycle as she did. It had been a long time since her life had been free and easy enough to ride something so impractical. A small piece of machinery that probably cost at least as much as her giant old truck.

It made the amount he was paying her seem like nothing. Which, technically, it would be once she used it to pay off debts.

But it’ll put Shaw closer to even ground.

That was supposed to be the only thing she cared about, everything she worked for. Shaw. The thing she could depend on. The life and blood of her.

Why did that fall flat? Why did the hum of a new and impeccable piece of machinery beneath her and this open-aired freedom make her feel like a traitor?

The entire morning had made her feel like a traitor, because she had woken up with her head on Dan’s shoulder, her hand curled into his shirt, and she hadn’t wanted to move. She hadn’t wanted to work or face the day.

She didn’t know who she was if she didn’t want that. Didn’t know who she was if all she wanted was Dan. Waking up with him. Him trusting her with his bike, asking her to come back. That was all she wanted.

It was wrong. She’d spent so long forcing herself to love this place, to work this place, to give everything she had to it in some sort of effort to prove she wasn’t the woman she looked so much like.

To be passionless and loveless so she wouldn’t want to run away, so she wouldn’t be left behind like her father had been. So she could be strong and nothing would ever touch her.

She was failing at that. Failing beyond reason, but it didn’t erase the things Dan made her feel, the things he made her forget. It didn’t erase the desire to go back to him tonight. A palpable tug back to him.

Her hands shook as she drove up the hill. She was losing herself, and she didn’t know how to fight it.

Had Mom lost herself too?

She pushed too hard against the brake and jerked to a stop so she could squeeze her eyes shut. But when she opened them, she didn’t have time to indulge in tears.

One of their cows was standing in the gravel between her and the garage. Another was in the yard. She swore and hopped off of the bike, whistling as loudly as she could.

The cow on the gravel lowed at her until she clapped her hands. “Go on. Get back to where you belong.”

Slowly, painstakingly, she managed to corral the cows back into the pen. By the time she had the cows in and the fence mended enough to keep them in place, she was sweaty and starving, a headache brewing, probably from dehydration.

Where the living hell was Caleb? She was supposed to be able to trust him. He’d promised he could handle this, but…he couldn’t. He wasn’t.

She wanted to cry, but the fury took over first. Hot and uncontrollable. The
one
thing they had left were these few cattle. That was
it
.

And if she hadn’t come home…
Or if you’d come home last night.

Sick realization swept through her. This really was her fault. What idiot had thought she could trust Caleb? Could trust any damn person with the last name Shaw—including herself.

But Caleb had promised.
Promised.
She stalked to the house, blinking back tears, ignoring the futility settling in her bones. It seemed she would always come home to Caleb failing.

And it would be her fault for never pushing hard enough when it came to whatever demons kept driving him. But blaming herself didn’t make her any less angry.

“Caleb!” She stomped through the house, making as much noise as possible. When she burst into the living room, Dad was sitting in his wheelchair, watching TV.

“Would you keep it down?” he muttered.

“No, I will not fucking keep it down.” She tossed her hat on the ground. For five years she hadn’t let her temper loose around him. Hadn’t wanted to stress him out. Well, she was
done
.

But he didn’t react. Not to her yelling, swearing, anything. He just shrugged. Completely unfazed.

“I suppose you don’t care the cattle escaped?”

He didn’t break his gaze from the TV, didn’t do anything but sit there. “Can’t do anything about it, can I?”

“You could care!” Why was she yelling at him? It wouldn’t matter. None of it mattered.

“Caring ain’t shit.”

The tears that stung her eyes were wholly and completely unwelcome. “It is something to me. You caring would be something to me.”

But he didn’t. Wouldn’t. He sat there and watched some idiot yap on TV while everything inside of her shattered and broke apart.

“Fuck, what is all the noise?” Caleb entered the room, scratching his head. His white T-shirt was dirty with who knew what, his eyes bloodshot, and he hadn’t shaved in a few days. This was worse than the night on the porch, so much worse, because she could believe that had been a one off. A little release of steam like she’d needed.

The man in front of her had drunk himself into passing out last night. She knew that the same way she knew her father wouldn’t give her anything. Not one ounce of energy, not one drop of affection. They wouldn’t share their secrets, their pain; they wanted to drown in it.

Or they’d already drowned. Maybe everything was dead. Her heart felt dead right along with it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Caleb asked.

“Do you know what I came home to?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Last night?”

It was a sharp pain that he hadn’t even noticed her not coming home last night. And a slap of embarrassment that she’d have to explain in front of both of them.

Or she could avoid, pretend. That’s what they did. Why not her? “There was a cow. Loose.”

“Don’t know how.”

“The fence, Caleb. You haven’t been checking the fences. You haven’t been holding your weight. You promised me.”

Something ugly flashed in his eyes. “I have done everything you asked me to do. Maybe I got a little carried away last night and am having a bit of a late start this morning, but I’m carrying my weight just fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am one person and I am doing the best damn work that I can. Don’t act like you’ve never had an animal escape on your watch. That you’ve never made a mistake. Don’t not be around when this place is going to shit and place all the blame on my shoulders. It was
in
shit when you left.”

She wished she could argue. He wasn’t far off. The place was falling apart when she’d handed over the reins to him. But holding it together didn’t feel necessary anymore. Not when she was the only one who seemed to be able to do it. “What am I working so hard for, Caleb? You? Dad?”

Caleb jerked a shoulder. “I thought you were doing it for you. For Shaw. Because you are Shaw. Those are your words.”

She was…this was it. The bottom. The breaking point. She didn’t have any more fight left, any more armor or bravado. “I don’t know who I am.”

“I’d say you’re walking your way toward being Mom.”

The pain was deeper than anything, and there had been a lot of pain. She had spent her life trying not to be a woman who would walk away, but…

All she could see if she stayed was year after year of this. Of this black oppressive pain, of secretly wishing someone would help, of being failed time and time again. If this was what Mom had been up against…maybe she couldn’t even blame her anymore.

“Maybe I have to be her to save myself. It’s a far better alternative to drinking myself to death. To sitting in front of a TV all day, pretending like my family means nothing. And I am done being the one trying to keep it all together. I quit.” She struggled to say the rest without tears. “I quit both of you.”

“You said Shaw was the most important thing.” Caleb’s voice was rough, hurt. Like she was abandoning him the way everyone always did.

She wished she could bring herself to care.

She looked around the house she used to love like part of herself. Her father sitting there not saying a damn word. Her brother standing there full to brim with a pain she didn’t understand, a pain he used to hurt himself, and her. She didn’t feel love anymore. She felt it press down on her until nothing was left.

She had sacrificed so much to love this place, these two men, but it wasn’t ever going to love her back any more than they were.

“I lied,” she whispered, because it had been a lie. To him. To herself. Shaw had been the last thing she could hold on to, but it wasn’t her. It was just a fortress she’d built around herself. “If you fail it, so be it. I won’t be around to see.”

She turned and walked out of the room. The tears stayed at bay, but she was shaking as she walked up to her room. All of her worst fears were coming true. She was her mother, and her father. All mixed up into someone who had nothing left. No family. No home. No life.

Dan.

She squeezed her eyes shut against that thought, leaned against the railing for a second. No, she did not have him. She did not want him. The last thing she was going to do was place all her hopes and needs in another person.

She had trusted every single person in her family. Mom to love her, Dad to comfort her, Caleb to keep Shaw going.

And all of them had failed. She had failed.

So, no, she didn’t
have
Dan, but she also had nowhere else to go.

* * *

“You’re going to have yourself some friends, Mystery.” Dan worked on changing out the water in the buckets, doing his normal chatting. Sometimes, in the dusky golden rays of sunset, it didn’t feel so stupid. It felt right.

Talking to the llama breeder on his own had felt pretty right too. Like he knew what he was doing. Haggling with the guy over the price of the small group of llamas he wanted to get rid of.

Winning.

Yeah, all in all, a pretty right day. Made even righter by the sound of a motorcycle engine interrupting the quiet. Mel.

They were going to have a talk. A real talk because…because despite all the doubts and whispers in his head, he knew he wanted to be here. Maybe not this year, but eventually. And if he was going to be here, build this, it meant he had to start believing he could.

Not just the llama ranch, not even just hockey. More. He had to believe in more.
In her?
That was the real kicker, he supposed. Screwing up hockey or the ranch was…well, intangible. It might bruise his ego, hurt his pride. It might even be hard.

But it wasn’t hurting someone else. He was so afraid he didn’t know how not to hurt someone.

He finished watering Mystery, and when Mel still didn’t appear, he went in search of her. When his bike came into view, she was still sitting in the seat, though the helmet was hanging off the handlebars. He wasn’t sure if it was his appearance or coincidence that she got off then.

She pulled a bag out of the compartment under the seat, then tossed it into the bed of her truck, never once looking at or greeting him.

He stopped halfway to her, uncertain. Something was wrong, and he didn’t particularly want to find out what.

Yes, you do. You’re building something, and you want her to be a part of it.
He swallowed down the fear, because it was true. He wanted her to be a part of it, and he’d have to get over himself to make that happen.

So he forced himself to keep walking. All the way to her. She kept her back to him until he touched her shoulder. “Hey.”

She turned slowly, almost reluctantly, and he could immediately see why. Her face was red and blotchy, her eyes bloodshot. She had to clear her throat to speak, but then she didn’t speak at all.

He reached out to touch her cheek, warm and damp. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She pulled away from his hand, almost wincing at his touch. She cleared her throat again, stepping around him.

Daniel, please, don’t make this any harder on me.

He snatched his hand back, not sure where that memory came from. Somewhere deep down. He had tried to help Mom, failed.

You’re not fucking five anymore.

But he’d been a teen when he’d started distancing himself from his grandparents, and he’d never made amends with anyone or dealt with any of the emotional baggage he’d skated away from. Even at thirty-five.

“Mel?”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was raspy. Everything about her was…even that day she’d cried on his shoulder hadn’t been like this. That had been more like a breaking point, a release. This seemed like she was already broken, and there was nothing left.

It made his chest ache hard enough to cover up the fear he didn’t know what to do with. “Honey, what is it?”

“I don’t…want to talk about it.” She stopped, her back to him, her gaze on something, though he wasn’t sure what. “But, um, can I stay here? For a bit?”

“Stay here? Well, sure, but…”

Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

She was killing him with this shit. He crossed to her, turned her around so she had to look at him. “Why? What happened at Shaw? What’s wrong?”

She didn’t meet his gaze, no matter how he tried to get in her line of sight. “I… I don’t want to talk about it. Can we… Can we not?” Finally her eyes met his, full of so many things he had to drop his hand, step back.

It was too much like last night. Too much like when he’d told her that her father had her and Caleb, and the pain had been so clearly written all over her face.

He wanted to know what to do for her, how to make it okay, but he didn’t know what to do except what she asked. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about it.”

Some of the tension in her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”

So that was the right thing, he guessed. Why did it feel all wrong?

“Did you come home with llamas?”

“Uh. No, but I made a deal with the breeder and he’s going to bring them out next week.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah.”

They stood there in awkward silence, the beautiful sunset going eerie as the sun disappeared behind the mountains, as Mel said nothing, didn’t move an inch.

Silences used like a shield. Why did that feel so damn familiar? “Do you want me to get your bag?”