Cowboy Crazy

chapter 27



Sarah sat in the car and seethed, staring at the parking meter. She had fifteen minutes left, but she’d practically been kicked out of the diner. Not physically, but emotionally. And it hadn’t felt good.

Gripping the wheel with both hands, she rested her forehead on the cool plastic. The morning hadn’t been a total loss. She knew more now than she had when she’d arrived.

She knew everybody hated her.

She couldn’t say she was surprised. She’d dreaded her first encounter with the town. But it had been even worse than she expected. Sure, she’d been a bitch in the years before she’d left, but she’d been a kid, a kid with a lot of problems. Couldn’t they give her a break?

Apparently not. Lane said they knew she was there as a Carrigan representative, but why would they assume that was a bad thing? One look around that diner would make it clear to anybody that the town was fading away. There wasn’t a single person in there under forty, and few under sixty. Carrigan would bring better roads, more money for public services, and jobs for peoples’ children, so they could stay in their hometown.

So why weren’t they glad to see her? Heck, they should be clamoring for a chance to talk to her. Suze should have been asking if she’d need more tables for the workers. Joe should have been checking to see if he could get a job working electrical on the rig. Mr. Jenson had a son somewhere, and a daughter. Why wasn’t he asking about employment opportunities for his kids?

Someone had gotten there before her. Someone had put a negative spin on the Carrigan deal.

Was it just a coincidence that Lane was right there to watch her get the big freeze?

She didn’t want to think about it. Shoving the key in the ignition, she cranked the engine to life and blinked a few times, telling herself it was the rising sun that had her eyes stinging. She distracted herself by poking the presets on the radio, looking for a station with soothing music. She’d finally settled for a scratchy, barely there NPR broadcast of a Brahms symphony when her phone rang.

She dug it out of her purse and squinted at the small screen, her vision blurred with the tears she refused to cry.

Eric. Just what she needed. He probably wanted a progress report. What was she going to tell him? Progress was negative. The company had been better off before she’d arrived in town. Her stomach clenched painfully and it took her a moment to recover enough to answer.

“Hello?”

“Sarah.” There wasn’t a hint of his usual bantering humor in his tone. “You’re in Two Shot.”

“Yes.” Why did he have to call so fast? She needed time to think things through.

“I understand you’ve been there before.”

This time, there was no mistaking his tone. He knew. Lane hadn’t just set the residents of Two Shot against her; he’d blabbed to Eric too.

He cleared his throat. “I also understand there’s a lot of negative feeling there toward you, and it’s bleeding over to the project.”

“I don’t know, Eric. I just got here. I’m working on…”

“I’ve gotten three phone calls, Sarah, from three different people, all of them telling me they don’t want Carrigan there.”

“Who was it?”

“They were anonymous. But two of them mentioned you by name. They said you didn’t have the town’s best interests at heart.”

A cloud passed over the sun and she felt suddenly cold. “When did you get those phone calls?”

“Last night.”

Last night. No one had known she was there last night.

No one but Lane.

She felt like a whirling, spinning tornado of emotions. Despair. Fear. Regret. Anger. Anger. Anger.

Lane hadn’t just betrayed her the morning after. He’d done his dirty work before they even got together. He’d apparently spread rumors and lies about her, then gone to the cabin and worked his charm on her afterwards. She smothered a sob so Eric wouldn’t hear it, feeling like she’d explode from the force of the shame building inside her.

She’d known their liaisons probably didn’t mean anything to Lane—but there had been a tiny glimmer of hope in her heart that believed his feelings were more than skin-deep. A foolish, girlie part that hoped for a happily ever after with a man who set her on fire like nobody ever had before.

Instead, he screwed up her life, used her, and then sat back and watched the damage he’d done. He was worse than uncaring; he was cruel, savoring a side dish of victory along with his eggs and bacon.

She’d known this was a game to him. She’d recognized a part of herself in him—the part that always wanted to win at any cost. She’d gotten caught up in playing the game with a worthy contender. But she hadn’t considered the price of losing.

“Eric, I have a solid understanding of the small-town mentality. Being raised in Two Shot is an advantage.”

“Not when you’ve burned all your bridges and moved on. Look, Sarah, you’re clearly not the best person for this project. You’ve set us back. I want you out of there.”

“Okay.” She sucked in a deep breath. “So you want me back in Casper?”

She stared at the face of the parking meter and waited for his response.

And waited. And waited. Maybe she should put another dime in the meter.

Finally, she couldn’t stand the silence. “Eric?”

“I’m taking you off the project.”

“Is there another project?”

“Not really.”

“Are you firing me?”

He sighed. “Look, Sarah, I’m sorry, but I hired you to build positive feelings in the community, and frankly, you’ve had the opposite effect.” He cleared his throat. “I hope you know this isn’t personal. It could make things awkward, because…” He cleared his throat again.

“Because you’re dating Gloria?”

“Yes. I know it might surprise you, but…”

“It doesn’t surprise me. Gloria’s a great person.” She realized what she was saying was true. Gloria was always upbeat, always positive. Sarah was going to miss her.

“Well, thanks. I’m glad you understand.” His tone was kinder, but it wasn’t friendship or caring; it was pity. “I’m going to hook you up with HR, okay? They’ll tell you when to pick up your next check.”

She couldn’t pick it up. There was no way she could walk into that building and face all her coworkers after getting fired.

“They can send it to me.”

She was speaking into a dead line. Eric had put her on hold.

“Human Resources,” said a nasal, mechanical voice. Sarah recognized the speaker as the woman who’d scheduled her interview four months earlier. “Miss Landon?”

“Yes,” Sarah said.

“Would you like your final check mailed? I’ll need your current address.”

Sarah lowered the phone, staring straight ahead out the windshield. She didn’t have an address. She’d figured on staying at Kelsey’s, but that was impossible now. And she didn’t have any savings because she’d been supporting Kelsey and Katie as well as herself.

Maybe she could just keep feeding dimes into the meter and live in her car.

“I’ll pick it up.” Her voice cracked on the first word and she ended up whispering into the phone.

“Pardon?”

“I’ll pick it up.” She managed to speak up, but her tone was angry and irritated. The woman didn’t deserve that; she was just doing her job. How many times had Sarah treated someone that way? How many times had she disregarded the feelings of someone who couldn’t serve her ambition? She’d done it over and over in Two Shot, and she realized now she’d done it at Carrigan, too. No wonder everyone hated her. She’d always been proud of her ambition, but it was really just a socially acceptable way to be self-centered.

“Thank you,” she choked out.

Pressing the “End” button, she tossed the phone on the seat and put the car in gear. It wasn’t easy to see through the tears, but somehow she’d make it to the so-called Love Nest and gather her things.

Hopefully Lane wouldn’t come to see the fruits of his victory, because she had a feeling her tears would only mean extra points to him.