Wild Cowboy Ways (Lucky Penny Ranch #1)

“No, darlin’, not today, but I’m still waiting on your call.” Sharlene rolled up slightly on her toes, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him long, hard, and leaving no doubt tongue was involved. “Although, I might be willing to be late if there was something more than coffee involved.”

Allie had to fight the sudden urge to throw her hammer at Sharlene. She did owe Blake. He had, after all, helped her pull nails for the last hour and a half, so she should help him out of the pickle. But then who’s to say he wanted out of the situation? A streak of hot jealousy shot through her veins as she slammed the door into the bedroom and headed up the hallway.

“Hey Blake, is it time to put in one of those casseroles?” She talked loudly and put on her best innocent face. “Oh, hello, Sharlene. I was in the back room with the door shut and didn’t realize you were here. Blake, is it time to warm up one of those casseroles for dinner?”

“I was just leaving,” Sharlene stammered. “You think about what I said, darlin’.” She winked at Blake and hurried out the front door.

“What took you so long?” he asked.

“Was it good?”

Blake frowned. “What?”

“How does kissing a smoker taste? I always thought it would be like licking the bottom of an ashtray,” she said.

Blake’s laughter echoed off the walls.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“You are funny and you are right. I need a glass of sweet tea to get the taste out of my mouth. Want one?”

“No, I’m going to finish up that last corner so we can hang drywall after we eat. Holler when dinner is ready.” She returned to the cold room, shut the door firmly, put her earbuds back in place, and went back to work. When Mr. George started singing “You Can’t Make a Heart Love Somebody,” tears came out of nowhere and streamed down her face. She crawled off the ladder, pulled the mask off, threw it on the floor with the broken wallboard, removed a glove, and brushed the tears away with her bare hand.

The lyrics reminded her of what Riley said when he finally admitted that he was having an affair. He said it was all her fault because she wouldn’t stay at home and be a wife, especially since she couldn’t be a mother. When she hadn’t gotten pregnant in those two years, he said he’d go to the doctor for a checkup. He came home with the news it wasn’t him so she didn’t need to go. And like the lyrics of the song said, she couldn’t make him love her.

She hadn’t cried that day so why were the tears flowing now? She slid down the wall, bowed her head, and listened to the next song—“Today My World Slipped Away.”

The song fit that day when Riley told Allie all about his new love, Greta. Riley said they had looked at each other across the top of that new Ford Mustang he had just sold her and he was smitten. She was the most beautiful, feminine woman in the whole world, and he had found his soul mate. Of course, it did help that she was a trust fund baby and he would be cashing in on that dividend check that came every month.

Why did she have to face off with all those memories that day? She wiped the tears again, leaving streaks of dust and grime on her cheeks like war paint. Her father’s words came back again telling her to finish tearing out the old so she would be ready for the shiny new. Until that moment she hadn’t realized how tightly she’d held on to the past, to the anger and the pain, but it had to go.

She raised her head and stared at the big gaping hole where the ceiling had been. Trusses, the bottom of roof decking, ceiling joists—all visible but the old ugly stuff had been ripped away. It was symbolic of what she had to do to move on with her life.

The old had been torn out of her heart and soul, but suddenly fear gripped her when she thought of taking a step forward. She’d been in limbo for so many years she didn’t know if she could trust her feet to take even a baby step, she was so scared of falling on her face…again.

She looked out the open window at the bright sunshine and then up at the rafters. Instead of an answer to the multitude of questions plaguing her, she heard the back door slam and heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. She swiped a hand across her face to get rid of the last of the tears and stood up.

“Can we open the door?” Deke yelled.

She made her way across the cluttered floor. “It’s a mess. Enter at your own risk.”

The door eased open and warmth flowed in. Deke’s silhouette filled the doorway. Leaning against the doorjamb with one leg slightly bent in those tight jeans, he was almost as dirty as she was. Twigs and leaves stuck to his flannel shirt as well as his hair.

“You got a lot done to be workin’ alone.” His gaze started at the hole where the ceiling used to be, traveled to the open window and carpet, and then slowly inched its way from her work boots to the top of her head. He grinned when he saw all the white dust in her hair. “Holy shit, Allie! You’re going to grow up to look like your granny.”

“Thank you so much for that, Deke! I may look like shit but I got the worst of the job done, and Blake helped me pull nails for more than an hour so that helped a lot.” She smarted off back at him.

Carolyn Brown's books