Unlucky in Love (19 page)

“Cowboy report. Go.” Katie's voice came over Lexi's phone before she had time to say
hello
the next morning.

“Huh?” She tried to blink the sleep out of her eyes. Even though it was early August, Katie still hadn't processed the whole time-zone thing. It might be nine o'clock where she was, but it certainly wasn't in Montana.

“I haven't received my elopement invitation yet, so I'm just checking. We're running out of time for you to find a cowboy husband to bring home to meet Mom.”

Lexi laughed. “Sorry, Kit-Kat. Not eloping.”

“And I thought you were going to change this summer. What a waste.” Katie laughed. “Have you at least
dated
a cowboy? Please tell me you haven't let all of those chaps and hats go to waste. I might have to kill you.”

Lexi was silent as she found a hangnail that suddenly required attention. Yeah, she'd dated one, all right. And then, just when things had been about to get interesting, a thunderstorm had wreaked havoc on the evening. Poor Duke had gone ballistic in the storm, and Gunnar had had no choice but to stay in the stable with him for the night. He'd been apologetic as he'd sent Lexi back to her cabin, and as she looked at the clock again, she realized he'd left an hour ago for a three-day trip south, to pick up a horse.

Timing.

Twelve hours after he'd injected her with a vial full of hope, off he'd gone.

“Oh-h. You're not talking.” Katie's voice went all sing-song. “There
is
someone! Is it Gunnar? Have things gotten hotter?”

“Katie, come on.”

“They
have
!” Lexi could picture her curling up in the round papazan chair in her office at the bed-and-breakfast she managed, eager for the dirt. “Dish to your little sis, Lexi. She's desperate for
someone
to have success with men here.”

“Another bad date last night?”

“The worst. Remember Robbie from high school?”

And just like that, the focus went straight to Katie, who was so used to it that she didn't even notice Lexi had done it on purpose so she wouldn't have to talk about Gunnar. It was all too fresh, too stunning, too…beautiful to talk about yet. Somehow speaking of it out loud might sully it, and Lexi wasn't ready to answer questions. She just wanted to spend the day reliving that kiss at the table…reliving his lips on her neck, on her ear…reliving the heat of his hand sliding torturously upward as he'd deepened the kiss.

She shook her head, trying to clear him from her mind. “Is Robbie the one who got tattoos before they were cool?”

“Yeah. Only they're not nearly as sexy now, gotta tell you.”

Lexi rolled her eyes. Robbie Humple was a loser who lived up to his unfortunate last name.

“Why did you even go out with him, Katie?”

“Because the selection of tourists is a little slim, okay? And the B and B is chock-f of honeymooners. It's depressing.” She sighed. “When are you coming home, anyway?”

“Same date as I've told you a hundred times.” Lexi heard the edge in her voice and tried to smooth it out. “August 15th.”

Five weeks ago, that date had seemed impossibly far in the future. As she'd packed her shorts and T-shirts and that one new dress Katie had insisted she buy, she'd seen the weeks stretching endlessly out before her.

But now the expiration date on her summer was sneaking quickly toward her, and all she wanted to do was find the
PAUSE
button and stay here at Whisper Creek until—until what, really? Until she figured out whether she and Gunnar might actually fall in love? For real?

“The fifteenth seems way too far away, Lexi. You sure you can't get here sooner?”

“Gee, Kate. Is Mom driving you crazy, by chance?”

Katie growled. “Can I
tell
you?”

Lexi sighed. “Of course. What's going on?”

“She's convinced she's working up to a major episode.”

“She's
always
convinced she's on the verge of one. What are her symptoms this time?”

“Oh, you know. The usual. But she's got eight medical sites bookmarked. She knows all the right things to report, whether she's having them or not.”

“True enough. Does she think it's going to be a heart attack this time? Or a stroke?”

“Pretty sure at this point, she's angling for either. She's being pretty nonspecific.”

Lexi rolled her eyes. “I assume she'll live through the week, then. Clearly you haven't been paying her enough attention. Her symptoms are directly proportional to the number of visits and phone calls she's had in a prescribed period.”

“Lexi, I've been paying that woman far more attention than an adult daughter should have to pay a perfectly capable woman who pretends she's not. She's impossible.”

“Really?” Lexi injected mock wonder into her tone. “Are you serious?”

“Shut up. I know. You've taken the brunt of it for years.” Katie sighed. “And I know you've been calling her three times a week all summer. Just maybe hurry up and come back, all right? I mean, if the cowboy thing isn't going to work out anyway, maybe you could just cut the summer short and bail me out?”

Lexi frowned at Katie's assumption that the—
cowboy thing,
as she called it—wouldn't work out. Maybe, just maybe, it would. Maybe it could, given the right intersection of stars or moons or planets or whatever.

“Who says the cowboy thing isn't going to work out? Maybe I'm making plans to stay right here, Kate. You never know.”

The silence on the other end assured her that her sister was now focused directly on her. Good. It was about time.

“That's not funny, Lex.”

“Hey, Kate? Can I remind you that you're the one who snuck in my application for this position? I'm under contract. I can't cut out early, even if I wanted to.”

“Which, clearly, you don't.” Lexi heard the tiff in Katie's tone.

“Wasn't that kind of the goal here? For me to break away, come out here, and spend the summer putting myself back together?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“But what, Katie? You never expected I'd really be able to do it? Never expected I
might
actually meet somebody special?”

“I never said that.”

“I don't think you had to.”

Katie paused, then spoke quietly. “What's with you, Lexi?”

Lexi closed her eyes. “I'm sorry. I don't know. There's just—a lot to think about right now, okay?”

“Omigod. There really
is
someone, isn't there?” Now Katie's voice sounded scared.

“Yeah.” Lexi sighed. “There is.”

“And…is it…mutual?”

“I'm pretty sure, believe it or not.”

“Well, that's—it's great. I'm happy for you. I really am.”

Lexi shook her head. “Try to contain your enthusiasm.”

“So…what are you going to do about it?”

“I don't know yet.” Lexi sighed, looking out the window and down toward the stables, where she could see the stable hands letting the horses out of their stalls for the day.

Katie sighed. “Oh, fantastic. Mom's beeping in.”

“Ooh, you'd better get that.” Lexi smiled, not feeling nearly as guilty as she'd been earlier in the summer, which oddly made her feel guiltier.

“Love you, too, Lexi.” Katie blew a raspberry over the phone. “And if she's really dying this time, I'm totally blaming you.”

“Sounds good. Ta-ta.”

Lexi hung up, smiling, relieved that she wasn't the one who'd have to field the next twenty minutes of complaints about the weather, the mailman, the tourists, or whatever else had hit Mom's radar today.

But two hours later, Katie called back. “Lex?”

Lexi sat up straight in the rocking chair, putting down the sketch she'd been working on. There was something in Katie's tone that had her spine tingling with alarm.

“What's up, Kate?”

“It's Mom.”

Lexi breathed out in relief.
Oh.

“What now?”

“She—had a heart attack. For real.”

Gunnar pulled into the Whisper Creek driveway two days later, exhausted from both the drive and the fact that he'd slept like complete shit for the past two nights. The horse trailer he was hauling behind him was empty, thanks to the owner changing his mind at the last minute, so Gunnar was pissed on top of his exhaustion. Three wasted days, when he had none to waste.

All that time on the road had done nothing but give him endless hours to relive his last evening with Lexi, which was torture in itself. He'd kicked himself more than a dozen times for not checking the radar that day, for not realizing a storm was coming that would send Duke into the frenzy that had abruptly ended what had promised to be an amazing night.

Next time he laid his frigging heart out, he'd check the damn weather report first.

Now, all he could think about was getting to Lexi, but first, he needed a shower. He'd texted her a couple of times, but it wasn't till he'd crossed the Carefree town line that he realized those texts had never left his phone. He loved the wilderness he'd traveled through, but a damn cell tower might have been nice, somewhere along the lonely stretch of road.

He parked the trailer and unhooked it, then headed to his cabin. Hell if he was going to show up smelling like the road, not when he had things to say—things that he maybe should have said sooner than now. As he walked down the pathway, the sounds were the same as always, the sky was its dusky norm, and guests lingered on their little front porches, as usual.

But something felt different, and he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

“Hey, Gunnar.” A blonde from the cabin to his left called his name. He couldn't remember hers.

“Hey.” He waved, but didn't stop. “Nice night, hm?”

“Could be nicer.” She winked. “Where ya heading?”

He shook his head internally. The transparency of the desperate single woman on a mission was something he wouldn't miss about this job—someday, when he'd earned enough to build his own house and stables.

“Just going for a walk,” he lied. If she didn't already know where he lived, he sure wasn't going to tell her.

“Want some company?” She stepped down off her porch, and Gunnar sighed. Damn. He couldn't be rude, but all he wanted right now was to get clean and get fed. And he didn't want to do either of those things with this woman.

“Another time, maybe.” He smiled, trying for the charm thing. “I've got a date.”

“Oh.” She pouted, stepping closer. “Well, if it doesn't work out—”

“G'night.” He backed up, pointing his thumb at the main lodge. “I think it's movie night in the lodge. You should join them.”

She took a deep breath, then lifted her jaw and set her chin. “Fine. Sorry to bother you.” She spun and went back up the steps, letting her cabin door
thwack
closed behind her.

He shook his head as he continued down the path. Yeah, he was single, and apparently he'd done all right in the looks department, but Christ. He wasn't interested in what they were offering. He just wasn't.

He heard Lexi's voice in his head as he unlocked his cabin door, and he couldn't help but smile. She'd been just as undone by their kiss the other night as he had been. He knew it. He'd had his share of clandestine make-out sessions and hot nights over the years, starting at fourteen with Britney What-was-her-name, and Lexi was nothing like any of them.

He'd never—not even when he
thought
he'd felt it—
never
felt what he'd felt with Lexi.

He'd bet a million bucks that she hadn't, either.

So now they just needed to figure out what to do about it. There was no way he was going to let her go back to Maine without at least exploring the possibility of them exploring the possibility, dammit. There was something there—something hot, explosive, so damn good—and there was no way they could ignore it for the next three weeks. If they did, he knew he'd spend a very long time regretting it.

After wolfing down a sandwich and taking a quick shower, Gunnar headed back toward the main lodge, but when he spotted the blonde back out on her porch, he detoured left to head toward the stables instead. He'd skirt them and come out just down the hill from Lexi's cabin. It was just getting truly dark, and he smiled as he pictured how she'd look, sitting in her bedroom window reading or drawing.

She'd told him that her favorite time of day at Whisper Creek was dusk, when she could hear the night creatures and smell the dew settling on the wildflowers. She'd said she loved to sit in the rocker by the window looking down toward the stables, feeling the breeze and watching the last rays of sunlight paint the sky.

She'd said she'd tried to draw it a hundred times since she'd gotten here, but she still hadn't quite captured the peace of it.

He'd just nodded and smiled, knowing exactly how she felt.

When he came out of the stable closest to her cabin, he stutter-stepped, realizing her bedroom light wasn't on. That was odd. But maybe she'd joined the guests for tonight's movie—some rom-com he couldn't remember the name of.

He stepped up onto her porch just to knock and make sure she wasn't in there, but as he looked through the screened panes of the door, he got a funny feeling in his gut. Usually the counter had books and papers and cups on it, but it was as clean as a whistle. He shifted his view to the living area, where he could usually see shoes or a sweatshirt or—again—books on one surface or another. But again, spotless.

He felt a stab of fear. It looked like she was…
gone
.

But she couldn't be. She was probably at the movie. She'd just cleaned her cabin first.

He headed for the main lodge, his feet matching the pulse suddenly hammering in his head. When he walked in, the great room was darkened, the movie projecting on the far wall. The smell of popcorn hung in the air, and Cole gave a tortured wave from the bar.

Gunnar scanned the room, but didn't immediately see Lexi. He headed for Cole, who handed him a cold beer as soon as he slid behind the bar.

Gunnar tapped his beer to Cole's. “Thanks, but if you've pulled bar duty on rom-com night, I think you need this more than me.”

“That's why I've got my own going.” Cole rolled his eyes. “I don't know how they watch these things.”

“Guaranteed happily-ever-afters, that's how.”

“Jess says it's about the journey
to
the happily-ever-after.”

“That's because she's a girl.” Gunnar rolled his eyes. “They're deep like that.”

Cole laughed, which earned him a dirty look from one of the guests. “Sorry,” he whispered, then shook his head at Gunnar. “So the horse didn't work out, Ma said?”

“Wish the guy had decided that before I headed down there, but yeah. He's convinced he can handle it himself.”

“So we'll be hearing from him again in a month or so?”

Gunnar nodded as he peered at the various couches and chairs, trying to find Lexi. He'd have thought it would have been easier to spot her red hair, but it was damn dark in here.

“Who are you looking for?” Cole finally asked.

“Lexi.”

Cole's eyebrows hiked upward. “Lexi?”

“Yeah, yeah. I don't want to hear it. I need to talk to her, though. Any idea where she is?”

Cole set his beer down. “Shit, buddy. She left Sunday morning. You didn't know?”

“For where?” Gunnar asked, the alarm bells in his gut not quite catching up to his words.

“For home, Gunnar.”

“Do you want a drink or anything?” Katie touched Lexi's shoulder in the ICU waiting room, making her jump. “I don't think we can go in again till next hour. Want to walk down to the cafeteria?”

“No.” Lexi shook her head, guilt clawing at her like a monster from her worst childhood nightmare. She hadn't been here, and Mom had needed her. For years, Mom had tried to convince Lexi that she was one step from the grave, that any stress could send her right to the hospital, and Lexi had coddled—but generally ignored—the hysteria.

But now this. Omigod, this.

Had the stress of Lexi leaving
caused
her heart attack?

“She's stable, Lex. There are so many machines hooked to her right now that she can't even blink without somebody knowing about it.”

“I know. I just—I'm not thirsty, okay?”

Katie sat down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Honey, have you eaten anything today?”

“I'm not hungry, Kate.” Lexi held her stomach, which had been impossibly riled since Katie's phone call Sunday morning.

Food hadn't even entered her mind, honestly.

“I know you're very, very busy feeling very, very guilty here, but please tell me you're internalizing the part about her doing really well right now. They did the balloon, they've unblocked her, and she's going to be all right.”

“I know. I'm just still processing the adrenaline, all right? My head knows she's going to be fine. The rest of me hasn't caught up yet.”

“Then come for a walk with me. The cafeteria has decent coffee, actually.” Kate took her arm and pulled her up.

As they headed toward the elevators, Lexi couldn't help but think of Jasper's little downtown coffee shop in Carefree. And then she couldn't help but think of the cowboy who'd held the cup of coffee under her nose so she could fully appreciate the aroma before she'd been allowed a sip.

When they got to the cafeteria, she and Katie filled to-go cups with dark brew, and Katie tossed two packets of peanut butter crackers on their tray.

“It's food.” She shrugged. “Sort of.”

They sat down, and Kate sipped her coffee, then set it on the table. “You know, I thought she was joking.”

“You did?”

“Well, I mean, seriously. The woman could have written the never-cry-wolf story, except she's the only one who doesn't see that that's what she's always done. She said she was pale, and her heart felt funny, and she couldn't lift her left arm.”

“Pretty clear symptoms of a heart attack, don't you think?”

“Totally. Which is why I wasn't sure whether to take her seriously. It was like a textbook complaint list.”

“So what made you go over to her house?”

“I told her to call 911, and she wouldn't. But she sounded funny about it this time—not like the others, when she knew she'd be found out if she actually called the EMTs. So I called them. They got there before I did.”

Lexi nodded slowly. “Well, you did the right thing.”

“But I almost didn't, Lex. You would have known how to read her. I didn't.”

“Sounds like you did just fine, honey. Don't second-guess yourself.”

“But even when the guys were there, taking her blood pressure and loading her up, I still wanted to pinch her and say
Enough, Mom. You got us good this time.
Isn't that terrible?”

Lexi knew she was punch-drunk tired, but a vision of her little sister jumping into the ambulance to pinch her mother made her laugh.

Katie looked at her, eyes widening. “Why are you laughing? This isn't funny!”

“I'm just picturing you jump—never mind.” Lexi cleared her throat. “Sorry. Totally inappropriate laughter. You're right.” Then she smiled again. “But can you imagine if you'd actually pinched her?”

“Lexi!” Katie tried her most imperious tone, but it only lasted two seconds before she, too, let a giggle escape.

It was classic trauma-release laughter, but as she sat there in a too-bright hospital cafeteria with her little sister, Lexi felt a smidge better than she'd felt in the past forty-eight hours. Katie was right—Mom had come through the worst of it, and hopefully, with good rehab and home care, she'd be on the mend sooner than later.

What that rehab and home care looked like, however, wasn't something they'd discussed yet. Lexi took a deep breath. She had a feeling she knew exactly whose shoulders it would land on, though.

“It's going to be a long road to recovery, isn't it?” Her own voice sounded small, even to her.

“Yeah.” Katie spun her cup slowly. “I think it is. How are we going to do this, Alexis? Do you have any idea what her insurance covers?”

Oh, Lexi knew, all right. Not a damn lot, that's what.

“I'm afraid it's going to be the Lexi-Katie show, hon. She'll hopefully get some rehab days, but after that, she'll be all ours.”

Katie closed her eyes tightly. “She's not going to be able to navigate her house without us, is she?”

“Not with a broken hip, no.” Lexi sighed. Sometime between the 911 call and the ambulance arriving, Mom had tried to walk from the kitchen to the living room,but had fallen. It wasn't until after her heart attack had been handled that she'd alerted anyone to the pain in her hip. “And cardiac rehab from a wheelchair takes a lot longer.”

“So I know this is going to sound like a stupid question, but before I freak out completely, can you please promise me you aren't going back to Montana to finish your contract? Will they let you out of it for extenuating circumstances?”

Katie's voice was suddenly small and scared, and Lexi knew her little sister was terrified that Lexi might leave her alone to face the monumental task of nursing Mom back to health, even for the first few weeks.

“I'm not going anywhere, Kit-Kat. You know I wouldn't.”

No, she wouldn't, despite the fact that a huge—but horrifyingly guilty—part of her wanted to head for the hospital exit, catch the next plane west, and hide out at Whisper Creek for the duration of Mom's recuperation.

Lexi sighed, picturing Gunnar as he'd lifted her onto Bella, as he'd shied away from the lobsters…as he'd leaned in to kiss her.

She took a shaky breath, knowing she couldn't—at least right now—give Katie any indication that Gunnar was even entering her mind. Her sister would lose it.