Cowboy Take Me Away

Chapter 20


Luke blinked his eyes open. Looked around. For a moment, he felt disoriented, with no idea at all where he was. The walls were bare. The bed was hard.

Then he saw the bars.

Sure enough, it hadn’t been a bad dream after all. He was in jail.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, feeling as if every nerve in his body had been deadened with Novocain. His sleep had been erratic and so filled with odd, nightmarish dreams that he felt as if he’d barely closed his eyes.

He heard a door open and looked up to see Sheriff Sizemore come in. Luke rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to focus.

“Russell called,” the sheriff said. “He’s dropping the charges.”

“Yeah?” Luke said, his voice slurred with sleep. “What made him change his mind?”

“He didn’t say. He just said he wanted you out of jail.”

The sheriff opened the cell door and gave Luke his possessions back. Luke looked at his phone. It was eight thirty. He was amazed he’d even slept that long in a place like this. He guessed it was self-preservation. Being awake meant he had to face what had happened, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I want you to think really strongly about something,” the sheriff said.

“What’s that?”

“Leaving town. Today.”

Luke’s head throbbed with shame and humiliation. He’d walked into this town with the stain of the past still on him, and he was leaving now covered in it.

“Yeah,” he said in a dead voice. “I’m leaving.”

“I think that’s best for all concerned.”

Luke turned and walked to the door, feeling the sheriff’s gaze on him with every step he took, the man’s unspoken words stabbing into him. And don’t come back.

A minute later Luke was walking along the town square toward his truck. Remnants of the festival were still scattered along Rainbow Way—signs, pennants, a few booths that had yet to be taken down. It seemed surreal to him now, as if the festival had ended months ago instead of hours.

As he passed Tasha’s Boutique, Ginger spotted him from inside the shop. She trotted over, hopped up on a chair, and barked. Tasha froze, her scissors hovering over a woman’s wet hair, and watched as Luke passed by. No smile, no wave. A few doors down, three of Rosie’s booths along the window were occupied. Those people stopped eating to watch him walk by, their faces filled with lurid curiosity. He didn’t recognize them, but the crawly sensation in his stomach told him they recognized him. It felt so strange to walk this street again as if he was an outsider. As if he wasn’t part of this place anymore, and it wasn’t part of him. And Shannon…

No. He couldn’t think about her now, or he wouldn’t be able to stand it.

A few minutes later, he’d climbed into his truck and left Rainbow Valley, heading for the shelter. When he reached it, he thanked God nobody was there yet, including Shannon. He gathered his meager belongings from his apartment and tossed them into his truck.

Then he thought about Manny and Fluffy.

He stopped for a moment, his hand on the driver’s door. Fluffy would be adopted soon. Luke would miss him fiercely, but he was such a sweet, engaging dog in spite of the way he’d been treated that eventually he’d live out his life with someone who would love him.

Manny was another story.

Luke hadn’t been there long enough to turn him around completely, and that meant he’d likely be at the shelter forever. Luke only hoped that somehow, some way, the little horse would find some kind of peace with the abuse he’d suffered, some way to reconcile the fear he felt without the shadow of it clinging to him every day of his life.

Luke turned onto the highway again, heading for the interstate. He thought about texting Shannon to tell her he was gone, then wondered why he would bother. She’d find out soon enough, and after what had happened, she’d be damned glad of it. After all, in the span of a few minutes, he’d confirmed what everybody in this town had always thought about him. That he was his father’s son, now and forever.

Luke slammed his fist against the steering wheel. Damn it! Why had he done it? Why? One moment he was brushing off Russell’s comments like a fly off his sleeve. In the next moment, it was as if the words found their way inside him, waking up that part of him he thought he’d buried for good, driving him to do something—anything—to take away the anger and the pain.

Drive. Just drive. Leave this place, and do it now!

Then, in the distance, he saw his father’s house.

As much as Luke knew he should keep going, indecision gripped him. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from slowing down as he approached it. Finally he pulled to the shoulder, his truck idling. Most of the fall leaves on the property had departed the scraggly trees, and he could just make out the house behind them—the house that held every bad memory this life had ever given him.

You’re still scared of it. In spite of everything, you’re still scared to go inside an old, empty house. You’re not a kid anymore. For God’s sake, just man up and do it!

He touched the gas. Turned onto the property.

No! Go back to the highway. Head for Denver. Now. Goddamn it, don’t you ever learn? Drive!

Even as the conflicting commands warred inside his mind, he knew the truth. If he didn’t face this now, the ghosts that lived inside those walls would rise up and haunt him until the day he died. It unnerved him to know how much emotion was still tied up in it, emotion that teetered on the brink of his subconscious, ready to come screaming out at the least provocation, just as it had last night.

It was time to put it to rest once and for all.



Shannon had barely slept the night before, and as she drove toward the shelter now, anger and heartache were still all mangled together in her mind. She knew Russell must have said something to Luke to provoke that kind of response, but did it really matter? Men settled their differences with words, and kids settled them with their fists. Luke had thrown the first punch—admitted it, even—and that was absolutely intolerable to her, particularly after he’d told her he’d gotten past it all, grown up, become his own man. But that wasn’t how he’d acted last night. Last night he’d been just like the bitter, destructive kid she’d known all those years ago.

She knew that wasn’t who Luke was today. She knew it. But there was no denying what he’d done, and now he was in jail. If Russell pushed this to the limit, Luke could actually go to prison for assault.

As she started to turn onto the drive leading into the shelter, she happened to glance down the highway to Glenn Dawson’s property. Autumn foliage had fallen away, making the house visible.

Luke’s truck was parked out front.

She blinked with surprise. As angry as Russell had been, she hadn’t expected to see Luke released from jail so soon, and if he couldn’t make bail, maybe not at all.

Stay away. Nothing good can come from talking to him.

But she couldn’t let it go. She knew if she didn’t get to the bottom of what had happened, the image of the sheriff putting him into that police car would stay with her forever.

She hit the gas and continued down the highway to the gravel road that led to Glenn Dawson’s house. She had no idea what she was going to say to Luke, but one way or another, she was going to find out the truth.



Luke sidestepped the gaping hole in the front porch and put his hand on the doorknob. He turned it, and when he heard the squeak of rusty hinges, it was all he could do not to turn around and run. Instead, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to step inside. In that instant, horrific memories from years past rushed through time to freeze him to the spot where he stood.

The place still reeked of filth and fury. The walls bled tobacco stains from the Camels his father had chain-smoked. A trash can beside the sofa was overflowing with empty whiskey bottles. He glanced into the kitchen, where a pair of dirty glasses still stood in the dull, pockmarked sink.

Luke wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs, resisting the urge to bolt. Before coming inside, he’d told himself all he had to do was see it for what it was—a dirty old house—and the hateful feelings would vanish. So why was his heart suddenly racing?

Then he turned toward his bedroom, and tears instantly filled his eyes.

In that moment, he knew nothing had changed. He was going to feel the shadow of this house clinging to him for the rest of his life. He was both a cowering kid who couldn’t even stand in this place without crying, and a man who couldn’t take an insult from another man without losing control. He’d convinced himself he was over it. But he wasn’t over a damned thing. It was still wrapped around his brain like an invasive tumor that would suck the life out of him from now until the end of time. Why couldn’t he let it go? Why?

Then he heard a noise behind him.



Shannon stepped to one side to avoid the hole in the porch decking, then pushed the door open to find Luke standing in what passed as the living room. Ratty, stained furniture sat on threadbare carpet, and the windows were so filthy only a small amount of light filtered through.

When the old door hinges squeaked, Luke spun around, his eyes wide with surprise. Then his gaze landed on Shannon, and his brows drew together with irritation. She strode into the house and stopped in front of him.

“How did you manage to get out of jail?” she asked.

“I broke out. Grabbed the sheriff’s gun. Now I’m a fugitive on the run.”

Shannon’s heart skipped a couple of beats.

“You believed that, didn’t you?” Luke said mockingly. “Just for a second or two, you actually believed it.”

“After last night I don’t know what to believe. Luke? What happened?”

He raised his chin in anger, his eyes boring into her. “Russell Morgensen is a son of a bitch.”

“Oh, yeah? Exactly what did he do to warrant you damn near breaking his jaw?”

“He’s got a big mouth.”

“That’s it? He said something to you? Good God, Luke! You’re not a kid anymore with something to prove. You’re a grown man who ought to know better than to throw a punch like that!”

“You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“I went out on a limb for you,” she said. “I’ve been telling everybody you’re not the kid you used to be, that you’re nothing like your father, and that they’re fools for thinking you are.”

“I don’t give a damn what you or anybody else in this town thinks. Least of all Russell.”

“Yeah? You don’t give a damn? So why did you pick a fight with him?”

“I didn’t start the fight.”

“But you sure finished it, didn’t you?”

“So that’s why you’re here? To take up for Russell?”

“I’m not taking up for Russell!”

“Okay. Fine. You’ve already told me how angry you are that I punched him. If there’s nothing else, why don’t you just leave?”

She opened her mouth to say something, only to close it again.

“I’m just a dumb, angry kid who can’t keep his fists to himself,” Luke said. “So why are you wasting your time with me?”

She didn’t know why. She didn’t know. She’d just seen his truck, gotten angry—

“I’m getting ready to leave this place forever,” Luke went on. “I bet you’re pretty happy about that now, aren’t you?”

No. She wasn’t happy about it. She was angry with him, her fists squeezed into balls so tight her fingernails were practically drawing blood, but still, the thought of him leaving—

“So why not just go about your business and forget I ever came here?”

“I-I don’t know,” she stammered.

“You don’t know? You don’t know? Then why don’t you get out of here and leave me the hell alone?”

“Because I love you!”

For several seconds, the house was deathly quiet. Luke just stood there, blinking with surprise. She couldn’t believe she’d said it. The words hadn’t even formed in her mind before they came out of her mouth. But the moment they passed her lips, she knew how true they were.

She loved him. She didn’t know when it had started. Maybe when they were at the rodeo. Maybe when he rescued Fluffy. Maybe when he’d taken her to his secret lookout. Maybe she really had loved him when they were teenagers and she’d never stopped. She didn’t know. She only knew she loved him, and that was why she was there.

Her anger melted away, leaving her with nothing but the relief of finally admitting what she’d felt for weeks. And in spite of what had happened last night that had led to this moment, she knew he felt it, too. She knew it.

Now she just wanted to understand. Understand why the man she’d come to know so well had done something so wrong when she knew in her heart that wasn’t who he was at all. But then his eyes grew hard, and a shiver of apprehension crept down her spine. A derisive laugh escaped his lips.

“Love?” he said. “You don’t love me. I’m just one more pitiful stray you feel obligated to take in.”

She drew back. “What?”

“It’s what you do. You can’t stand to watch poor, pathetic creatures suffer. Look around you. I’m definitely more pathetic than most.”

“What are you talking about? This place isn’t you!”

“According to everyone in that town, it is.”

She inched closer to Luke, her heart beating wildly. “What did he say to you? What did Russell say last night to make you so angry?”

“He didn’t have to say anything to make me want to hit him. All he had to do was show up.”

“Luke! What did he say?”

Luke’s gaze was hard and impenetrable, but his throat convulsed with a hard swallow. “He said you deserved a better man than the son of the town drunk.”

Shannon’s mouth fell open. She knew Russell was threatened by Luke, but for him to say something like that—

“Don’t act so surprised,” Luke said. “After all, you felt the same way a few years ago.”

“I never felt that way about you!”

“The hell you didn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter, anyway. What happened back then has nothing to do with what’s happening now. Just forget all that!”

“Will you take a look around you?” he shouted. “How the hell am I supposed to forget?”

“By realizing you’re not the kid you were. And knowing that whatever happened back then doesn’t affect the man you are now. Not unless you let it.” She took a few steps toward him, putting her hand against his arm. “All this is past history,” she said gently. “You need to get over it, Luke. Just get over it.”

His eyes narrowed, his mouth settling into a grim line of rage. “Get over it? You think it’s that easy? Just get over it?”

All at once, he grabbed her arm. She tried to shake loose, but he held on tightly. He turned and headed for the dining room, dragging her along behind him. “See that?” he said, pointing to a hole in the wall. “Know where that came from?”

“Luke—”

“The back of my head,” Luke said, his voice quavering. “I’m damned lucky it went through the wall. If there had been a stud behind that part of the Sheetrock, I’d probably be dead right now.”

Luke was at least six feet tall. That hole in the wall couldn’t have been more than five feet high. Shannon’s stomach turned over with disgust.

And then he was pulling her along again, this time to the kitchen. He yanked open a drawer. “See this?” he said, holding up a rusty spatula. “This was one of his favorite weapons. It has holes in it. You know what that feels like across your bare legs?” Luke hurled it across the room. It hit a window and shattered it, raining glass down on the filthy wood floors. Shannon shied away hard, but he grabbed her arm again.

“Luke, please—”

Ignoring her pleas, he dragged her into one of the bedrooms and yanked up a loose floorboard.

“I wanted a dog so bad I could taste it,” he said, breathing hard. “Of course I did. I lived in f*cking Rainbow Valley, where everybody has a pet. But my father told me if I ever brought a dog home, he’d kill it. And he’d have done it, too. You think I wanted to watch that happen?”

He reached into the hole and pulled out a stuffed dog. Brown, with dirty, ragged fur and black button eyes.

“A woman at the thrift store gave it to me. When we left, I put it under my coat so my father wouldn’t see it. If he had, he would have ripped it to shreds. That’s what passed as a pet for me. A damned stuffed animal.” Luke hurled it across the room.

Shannon pressed her hand over her stomach, sick with the realization of what his life had been like. But it was over. His father was dead and gone. This had to stop.

“I know he drank,” she said carefully. “I know he was terrible to you. But—”

“You don’t have any idea what my father did to me. None at all. You couldn’t even imagine—”

“But it’s over now. He’d dead.”

“It’ll never be over! As long as I’m drawing breath, it’ll never be over!”

“Luke, I know he hit you. But—”

“Hit me? You think that’s all there was to it? He hit me? Christ, I used to pray that was all he’d do!”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“He’d get mad for no reason,” Luke said, his breath harsh and raspy. “I’d hear him fly into a rage. Then he’d come into my bedroom and tell me whatever he was angry about was my fault.” He turned his gaze up to the closet door beside him. “Then he’d drag me into that closet. Slam the door.” Luke swallowed hard. “Then he’d nail the door shut.”

Shannon followed Luke’s gaze to several bent, rusty nails scattered on the floor, then along the edge of the closet door, where she saw a dozen holes where nails had once been. Nausea crept through her stomach. She couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t imagine any human being treating a child like that.

“Sometimes he left me there for two or three days,” Luke said. “No food, no water. Every time I heard him pound that hammer, I thought I was going to die. I cried…I screamed…”

For a few sickening moments, Shannon felt as if she was right there in that closet with Luke, hearing his cries, feeling his pain. “My God,” she said, horror snaking along every nerve. “He did that to you? Your own father?”

Luke reached back inside the hole beneath the floor and brought out something that made Shannon’s blood crawl to a near halt. A knife. Long and wicked, tarnished with age. He turned it over, and it glinted dully in the faint light.

“One day I stole this from the hardware store. I hid it under this floorboard. I told myself if he ever touched me again, I’d kill him.”

Shannon felt light-headed, her mind reeling. What if he’d done it? What if he’d murdered his own father? His life would have been over. Over, for doing something he was driven to do by a force he felt he couldn’t stop any other way.

“He never knew it was there,” Luke said. “But he knew something was different. Knew I wasn’t taking it anymore. He never touched me again. But I was still afraid. Every single night…so afraid…”

Luke slammed the knife back into the hole again and stood up, his eyes glistening. When he spoke again, his voice was clogged with emotion.

“I couldn’t stop him! No matter what I said, what I did, he kept coming at me! Over and over and—”

She reached for him. “Luke—”

“Don’t touch me!” He jerked his arm away, holding up his palms, and Shannon drew back as if he’d slapped her.

“I-I didn’t know,” she said helplessly, her voice trembling. “I was a kid like you. I couldn’t have known!”

“Yeah, but what about everybody else? How could somebody not know? How in the name of God could the people in this town not know something was wrong? They saw him. They saw me, dirty and bruised and scared. I was just a little kid, and they left me with that monster! Why didn’t somebody do something?”

She didn’t know. She’d only been a kid herself. Luke’s age. Sleeping in her Barbie bed in one of the biggest houses in Rainbow Valley at the same time he’d been living this nightmare. In that moment, any problem she’d ever had in her life seemed so horribly, painfully insignificant that she couldn’t even imagine them anymore.

“So next time you tell me to just get over it,” Luke said, “you think about that, okay? You think about—”

“Luke—”

“Get out.”

She shook her head slowly, the horror of the moment leaving her jaw slack and her hand at her throat.

“Get out of this house.”

“But—”

“Get the hell out of this house!”

She backed away one stumbling step, then two, her hand still at her throat, the image of Luke’s father looming in her mind like a creature in a nightmare. She’d had no idea. No idea at all, or she never would have come there and said the things she had. Now she understood. She understood that whatever she thought Luke had endured back then, it had been nothing compared to the reality of what had happened inside these walls.

She hurried to the door, yanked it open, and ran down the steps to her truck, Luke’s furious shouts still reverberating inside her head. She opened the door and jumped inside, her body still trembling. The wind had ripped strands of hair loose from her ponytail, and she had to shove them out of her face before she could start her truck. The horror of it all was too much for her, the injustice, the terrible guilt she felt that she’d been living in heaven while he was going through hell. To Shannon, this place was just a dirty old house. To Luke, it had been a prison where his childhood had been held by the throat and flayed until it was bloody and lifeless.

She started up the road, but before she even reached the highway, her tears began. Soon she couldn’t even see to drive. She pulled over, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, feeling so helpless she could barely breathe.

I’m just one more pitiful stray you feel obligated to take in.

No. God, no. It was so much more than that. She’d told him the truth. She loved him. She loved him so much that just thinking about it practically knocked her to her knees. But now she had that same horrible feeling that invaded her dreams so many nights of her life, where she saw animals that were in agony, but there was nothing she could do to stop their pain.

Luke was right. She wanted his suffering to stop. But not out of some misguided need to save him. She wanted him to live again, to learn to love. To love her. She wanted to touch him, to hold him, to do something to drive those thoughts from his mind for good so they could figure out some kind of way forward. But now he was leaving, taking memories with him that were going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

And there was nothing she could do to stop him.



Luke stood in that repulsive house, breathing hard, every muscle tense and aching. Glancing out the window, he saw Shannon get into her truck and drive away. Despair overwhelmed him, and his legs felt weak and shaky. He needed to sit down, but this crappy furniture…he couldn’t bear to touch it. All he wanted to do was run.

He left the house, sidestepping the hole in the porch, the disgustingly shabby porch that had given way beneath his feet and eventually made him face this hell on earth. When he reached his truck, he turned back and looked at the unspeakable place he couldn’t even bear to stand in.

He wanted to set fire to it. He wanted to toss a match on what was left of the front porch and watch it go up in flames. He wanted to watch it burn until it was reduced to a pile of ashes that even the flimsiest breeze could sweep away. He wanted nothing left on this plot of land but scraggly, fire-damaged trees and blackened grass crackling in the breeze. He wished for it so hard he swore he could lift his head and smell the wood burning. But the fire wouldn’t stop there. The unprecedented lack of rain meant a single spark could ignite a fire that would consume the entire valley.

He got into his truck. It took him three stabs to get his key into the ignition. But instead of starting the engine, he folded his arms on the steering wheel and dropped his head against them.

She knows she knows she knows she knows…

That thought kept pounding inside his head. The things he’d kept to himself all these years, the horrific things he vowed he’d take to his grave…

So now Shannon knew exactly what he was, how damaged he felt because of his father, how the memory of it still stained every thought that passed through his mind. Since he’d left Rainbow Valley, every time a woman touched him, he had to divorce his mind from his body so it was just his flesh she was reaching for and not his soul, because what soul he had left was so ragged and broken it would have crumbled with a single touch.

Until now. Until Shannon.

I love you.

He played those words over and over in his mind, but he couldn’t make himself believe them. He knew what drove her, what hit her on an emotional level, what made her tick. It wasn’t love. It was pity. The same pity she felt for the damaged animals she took in. And even if it was love, he’d destroyed it now. He’d told her from what depths he’d come, and they were deeper than she ever could have imagined. He squeezed his eyes closed and pressed his palms to the sides of his head. Get over it get over it get over it…

God, how he wanted to. He wanted to smash every memory with a mental hammer over and over until the tiny fragments bore no resemblance to the reality he’d lived through.

He’d never be able to look Shannon in the eye again. At best, she’d look back at him with the kind of pity that had always turned his stomach. That was why he needed to go, why he needed to get away from this town just as soon as he could. And this time nothing on earth would bring him back.



Shannon drove back down the highway and turned into the driveway leading to the shelter. Freddie Jo’s car was in front of the office, and she parked beside it. She sat there a long time, trying to get a grip, feeling as if the entire world had crumbled beneath her feet. She flipped down her visor mirror and saw that her eyes looked all red and cried out, and she doubted they’d look much better anytime soon. Finally she got out of her truck and went inside. Freddie Jo looked up, and the second she saw Shannon’s face, a concerned expression came over hers.

“Oh, honey…”

“I’m okay,” Shannon said, wiping her fingertips beneath her eyes. She walked past Freddie Jo and went into the kitchen. She reached the table and stopped, looking toward Luke’s apartment. She walked to it slowly and opened the door.

It was empty.

Her heart twisted, and for a moment she thought she was going to be sick. She knew Luke had to be on his way out of town, but still she’d held on to a last shred of hope that maybe he hadn’t actually packed up everything and left. That there was a chance things would cool off and they could come back together again. But just like before, he was gone for good. And she was so afraid she wasn’t going to be able to stand it.

She took a deep, shaky breath and walked back to the office. “Come on, Freddie Jo. We need to get the animals fed.”

Freddie Jo turned around, wearing a sympathetic look that drove Shannon crazy.

Shannon tossed her purse in her desk drawer. “I’ll take the horses if you’ll handle the cats. Then we can both do the dogs.”

“I don’t know what happened between Luke and Russell,” Freddie Jo said, “but I’m thinking there was more to it than met the eye.”

“Yes. There’s more. But it doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”

“Luke left town already?”

“Yes. So I guess we have things to do, don’t we? Let’s get after it.”

“I think you need to sit for a minute.”

Shannon wheeled around. “Sit? How am I supposed to sit? How in the world am I supposed to just sit around while there are all these mouths to feed around here? How?”

“Shannon—”

“It’s feeding time. The animals have to eat. Now come on!”

But Freddie Jo still didn’t move. She just shook her head slowly. “Sweetie, I think you need to go home.”

“No. This place is my responsibility. If Luke isn’t here to do his job, it’s up to me.”

“Angela’s coming in later. She and I can take care of things around here. Go home.”

“I can’t go home. I have things to do here. I have things…” Shannon stood there helplessly, hot tears burning behind her eyes. Finally she collapsed to her desk chair and dropped her head to her hands, praying she wasn’t going to cry all over again.

“This was my fault,” she said, her voice shaky. “I depended too much on him. I should never have done that. I knew he was going to be gone someday, and still I did it.”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Tears welled up in Shannon’s eyes. She nodded, and those tears trickled down her cheeks.

Freddie Jo came to sit in the chair next to her desk. “Luke’s a good man. I don’t care what happened last night. You’re right to love him. And I know he loves you, too.”

“No, he doesn’t. If he loved me, he wouldn’t leave.”

“He’s has to go to Denver. But he’ll be back.”

Freddie Jo didn’t understand. She didn’t understand what Luke had been through, suffering pain so deep he might hold on to it forever. And Shannon couldn’t explain it to her.

“No,” she said. “He won’t be back. And I don’t know what to do without him. How to get things done. How to live from one minute…to the next…without him…”

Her voice choked up, and tears spilled down her face again. Freddie Jo tilted her head sympathetically. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry about all this.”

Shannon nodded.

“You probably didn’t close your eyes at all last night. Go home. Get some more sleep and things will look better.”

“I can’t. There’s just so much to do…”

“Angela and I will take care of everything. Please, sweetie. Go home.”

But if she went home now, what about tomorrow? Would things be better then, or was she going to feel like this forever?

Finally she rose from her chair. She grabbed her purse from her desk drawer and left the shelter. She went back to her apartment, where she lay down on the sofa, her head feeling as if it was going to explode. Goliath came over and stuck his nose under her hand, letting out a tiny whimper. Dogs knew. They always knew when something was wrong. He climbed up on the sofa and put his chin on her thigh, his mile-long legs hanging over the side.

She couldn’t imagine never again seeing Luke toss hay to the horses, or throw balls to the dogs, or just walk around the place with Fluffy at his side. Before he showed up, she couldn’t imagine needing anybody the way she needed him, and now that he was gone…

She picked up her phone. Sent him a text message. Too little, too late, she knew, but she wanted to touch him in some way one last time. And she’d do it a hundred times over if she thought it would make a difference, if she thought it would ever bring him back to her. But she knew now that some hurts went soul deep and couldn’t be washed away by anyone or anything.

She tossed her phone aside and closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep so it would all go away, if only for a little while.



On his way out of town, Luke stopped at the Pic ’N Go one last time. He knew Myrna might have turned against him by now, but he refused to let everything positive he’d created with her and Todd be destroyed because of what had happened last night.

He pulled up next to the building, glad there were no other customers in sight. When he went into the store, Myrna looked over from the cash register.

“Heard you had a rough night last night,” she said.

Luke’s stomach churned with apprehension. “Yes, ma’am. I hit Russell Morgensen and got arrested.”

“Did he need hittin’?”

Luke blinked with surprise. Russell Morgensen? Yeah, he needed hittin’. And far more times than Luke had done it. But what mattered to Luke wasn’t the act, it was the aftermath. The sheriff. Everybody looking on. Jail. That horrible confrontation with Shannon at his father’s house.

“Whether he did or he didn’t,” Luke said, “I never should have done it.”

“If you hit him, I’m sure you had a good reason.”

Luke felt an almost palpable sense of relief. Of all the people in Rainbow Valley, Myrna Schumaker was the last one he would have expected to take his side about anything. In fact, after last night, she might be the last ally he had in this town.

“Just wanted to stop by to tell you I’m leaving town,” Luke said. “Getting on the road to Denver.”

“The bull riding championship?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She put several snacks into a bag and shoved them at Luke. “For the road,” she said. “On the house. No arguments.”

Luke took the bag. Then he knelt down and Todd rushed over to give him a hug. Luke closed his eyes as the little boy wrapped his hands around his neck, his heart breaking. He wondered if the day would ever come when he’d become the father he’d always wanted to be. In the last few weeks, it had felt like a dream within his reach. Now it seemed a million miles away.

Barney trotted over. Luke patted his head. “You take care of Barney now,” he told Todd.

Todd nodded. “Will you come back to see us? We can go to another rodeo.”

Luke felt a stab of longing. “Maybe someday, buddy.” He stood up. “Good-bye, Mrs. Schumaker.”

“Good-bye, Luke. And good luck.”

She turned and walked back behind the counter. Luke left the store, and when he got into his truck, he looked back to see Todd and Barney standing by the window. Luke hoped Todd would remember him as the guy who took him to a rodeo and got him a dog, not the guy who proved one more time that the son of the devil was alive and well and his legend wasn’t just a legend after all.



Russell stood on Cynthia’s front porch, checking the address to make sure he had the right place. Then again, was there really any question? Flowering plants crawled all over the porch railing, and the front door was painted cherry red. Beside the door sat a pair of wicker chairs with orange cushions so bright they burned his retinas. If Cynthia didn’t live there, another woman in Rainbow Valley was as weird as she was. What were the odds of that?

He knocked. Several seconds later, Cynthia opened the door.

“What are you doing here?” she asked through the screen door.

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

“No? Just no?”

“Yes. That’s all.” She started to close the door.

“Wait!” He exhaled, feeling about as humiliated as a man possibly could. But he’d brought it on himself, hadn’t he?

“You were right,” he said, grinding out the words. “About Luke. I caused the fight. I said something awful, he hit me, and I deserved it.”

He waited for the I-told-you-so he knew was coming. Instead, she said nothing.

“I called the sheriff,” he went on. “Dropped the charges. And if I get the chance, I’m going to apologize to Luke.”

And still she said nothing.

“And you were right about me and Shannon, too,” Russell went on. “We’re not right for each other.”

Still nothing. He winced, waiting for her to pile it on, but she didn’t say anything else. Finally he couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“Will you just let me come in for a minute?” he said. “The neighbors are starting to stare. You can’t see them doing it, but this is Rainbow Valley. Trust me—they’re staring.”

Cynthia looked undecided, her brows drawn together thoughtfully. Finally she opened the door and Russell came inside.

And he couldn’t believe what he saw.

It was as if he’d walked into a flea market for people with color blindness. The walls were pale pink. The ceiling was yellow. The scuffed hardwood floors beneath his feet had probably looked pretty good approximately a hundred years ago. A cracked Tiffany lamp sat on a carved wooden end table decorated with hand-painted lime green curly cues. A carved wooden bowl sat in the middle of her coffee table, filled with Starlight mints. And it was as if all of it had been thrown inside a gigantic blender and somebody had pushed the button.

On a nearby chair, two black and white cats were curled up together. Then he saw Jessie, who was perched on the top of an odd piece of furniture he couldn’t have guessed the purpose of. She looked down at him, then turned up her snooty pink nose and blatantly ignored him. As his gaze circled the room, he could feel his own nose crinkling.

“I’m betting you’re Eve’s best customer,” he said.

Cynthia frowned. “I know you didn’t mean that as a compliment, but I’m not going to take offense. You just don’t know what cozy and comfortable look like.” She paused. “Poor thing.”

“I’m not a poor thing! You’re a poor thing!”

“That’s mean.”

He drew back with disbelief. “You called me a poor thing first!”

“But my ‘poor thing’ was sympathy, because cozy and comfy are very nice things and you don’t even know what they are. Your ‘poor thing’ was you looking down your nose at me. Is it because you grew up with that silver spoon in your mouth? Because your father is a hotshot heart surgeon and your mother sells luxury homes to gazillionaires? And I’m just a little nobody from a nothing town with an average job and an average house and—”

“You said you weren’t going to take offense.”

“I changed my mind.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, all right. It’s just that I hate being around a mess. I don’t know why. I just do.”

“I know you do. But that’s too bad, because I like messes. I may even mess up your files a little, just because.”

“Don’t you dare touch my files!”

“As long as I can find stuff, what difference does it make? Oh, yeah—I don’t work for you anymore.”

“What would it take to get you to come back?”

The moment the words slipped out of his mouth, he wanted to stuff them back in. He hadn’t meant to say that, or at least not blurt it out. What was it about her that made him do things he’d never intended to?

“Well, you might start by asking me,” Cynthia said.

Asking her?

This woman was tying his brain into a knot. He started to walk out the door until he could unravel it and get back in control again, only to imagine showing up to the office tomorrow and seeing her empty desk. No stuffed rabbit. No ceramic frog. No Jessie curled up between them. And just a little bit of panic welled up inside him.

He cleared his throat. “Will you come back?”

She shrugged offhandedly. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ll think about it?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Well, no, not exactly—”

“Then I’ll think about it.”

No. He didn’t want her to think about it. The more she thought about it, the more likely she was to come to the conclusion that he wasn’t worth it and that she wanted to work someplace else, and then she’d be gone for good.

“If you come back,” he said, “of course you can bring Jessie back, too.”

“But you don’t like her.”

He sighed. “No. I do like her. I mean, how could I not? She’s the nicest cat alive. Cats don’t come any nicer than Jessie.”

“She barfs.”

He shrugged. “I hear cats do that.”

“Then why do you make ugly faces at her?”

“Because she doesn’t like me.” He looked away. “I don’t deal well with rejection.”

“I know. I heard you talking to your mother the other day.”

Russell whipped around. “What?”

“When you were on the phone with her, inviting her to come for a visit.”

“You eavesdropped?”

She pursed her lips. “Don’t you think we’re a little past all the righteous indignation?”

Russell had never realized it before, but knotted brains hurt.

“I’m guessing your parents probably aren’t coming anytime soon,” Cynthia said.

She was right. They weren’t. But hearing her say it out loud made him feel worse than he had in a long, long time.

“Do they think it was weird for you to open a practice in Rainbow Valley?” Cynthia asked. “Is that the problem?”

“Truthfully, with them, there’s really no approval or disapproval where I’m concerned. It’s as if they wrote me off a long time ago, like a failed experiment.” He sighed. “Good thing, because I never would have gotten through medical school.”

“So why would you even consider it?”

“Because that’s what Morgensen men do. My father is all about hearts, even though he doesn’t have one. My grandfather was a heart surgeon, too. But to tell you the truth, I had a tough time even getting through dental school. Med school would have been a disaster.”

A wave of depression overcame him, so he sat down on Cynthia’s overstuffed sofa and sank halfway to China. He tried to rescue himself, but it was pointless. Finally he just gave up and slumped like a rag doll. He hoped he didn’t look as forlorn as he felt, but stuck in her sofa the way he was, how could he not?

“I didn’t want to be a heart surgeon. It just wasn’t in me. But there was a time when I would have given anything if it had been.”

Cynthia sat down next to him. “No. You should go with what you’re good at. And you’re a good dentist.”

“Right. Do you know I graduated in the bottom one-fourth of my class?” He closed his eyes. “I have no idea why I told you that.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still very good at what you do.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your hands,” she said.

“What about my hands?”

“Every time you pick up a drill, it’s like…” She looked away, rolling her eyes self-consciously. “No. It sounds stupid.”

“No! It’s not stupid!” He leaned closer, like a starving animal digging through a Dumpster, looking for that one morsel of food that would keep him alive. “Tell me.”

She gave him a little shrug. “I don’t know. It’s like a musician playing a violin, or an artist painting a portrait. When you’re doing a filling or a root canal or whatever, you have so much skill and precision. And even though you don’t have the best chair-side manner—”

“I don’t?”

“You’re too businesslike. Anyway…” She traced her fingertip over the back of his hand, sending shivers straight up his arm. “…you have these beautiful hands that are perfect for the job. Your patients think you’re an excellent dentist.”

“They do?”

“Of course. I’m the one they pay. And they’re happy to do it.”

Thinking back, he’d always done well during the hands-on parts of dental school. It was the exams that had killed him. It had always freaked him out to have a numerical score attached to his work, something his parents could point to with a sigh of disappointment and say, Of course we hoped you’d do better.

“And then there are the patients you give your services to for half price because you tell them you need to practice a particular procedure,” Cynthia said.

“So what’s wrong with needing practice?”

She made a scoffing noise. “Please. You don’t need practice. But it’s sure a convenient explanation for why you do nice things for people with financial problems, isn’t it?”

“So what else am I supposed to do? Turn them away? Half price is better than no price.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. I don’t know why it makes you uncomfortable if people think you’re nice.”

Because his father would fall on a sword before he’d charge half price for a procedure. And his mother? She was always looking for a way to charge her clients more than the basic six percent.

“Face it,” Cynthia said. “You’re a closet nice guy. It’s time to come out of the closet.”

Russell frowned. “Well, I’m not sure I like the way that sounds, but…”

All at once he realized she was staring at him with those big Betty Boop eyes, and for some reason they suddenly looked sweet and charming in a way he’d never noticed before. It was as if he was seeing her through another lens, a lens that seemed to have fire around the edges, bright reds and oranges, so bright it made his face hot.

He swallowed hard. “So does this mean you’re coming back?”

“I said I’d think about it.” She frowned. “You don’t listen very well, do you?”

Being with Cynthia was like having a permanent case of whiplash, but for some reason Russell felt exhilarated just to be going along for the ride.

“I have things to do now,” she said, which he took as his cue to leave.

He dug himself out of her sofa. As he followed her to the door, he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had somebody in his life who looked at him as if he truly mattered, somebody who cared enough to really know him no matter how horribly flawed he was. He thought back to the cupcake with the single candle Cynthia had given him. If she could remember his birthday, why was it so hard for the people in his life who were supposed to be important to him? He was nothing but a footnote in his parents’ life and an afterthought in Shannon’s. Why couldn’t they be more like Cynthia?

He pushed open her screen door and stepped onto her front porch, feeling just a little bit dazed. He started down the steps.

“Dr. Morgensen?”

He turned back.

“I thought about it.”

“You did?”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

She gave him a little smile, and the elation he felt at that moment nearly knocked him flat on his back. She closed the door, and as he walked to his car, he was smiling, too. So she was coming back tomorrow. That was good.

Very good.

But he didn’t know why, really. She was just an employee. A good office manager, to be sure, and it would be hard to replace her, but just an employee nonetheless. But for some reason, his heart was still going crazy. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her big, brown eyes, those lush lips topped by that little cupid’s bow, and the way she always smelled like Starlight mints?

He didn’t know exactly. Women confused him. They always had. All he knew was that he couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

And he couldn’t wait to see her again.