Cowboy Crazy

chapter 33



They didn’t leave the hospital until well after midnight. Kelsey and Mike fell asleep in the backseat, snuggled together beside Katie’s car seat. They’d been holding hands, Kelsey’s head resting on Mike’s shoulder. It had actually made Sarah smile. Maybe her heart was thawing a little where Mike was concerned.

She and Lane made small talk on the way back to the ranch, mostly about Kelsey. Sarah filled him in on what the doctor had said. It wasn’t a stroke, just an especially severe migraine that had tightened up some capillaries. The doctor gave her migraine medication, much to Sarah’s satisfaction, and ordered her to take it. Lane actually seemed to care, which would have warmed her heart if she’d been able to forget about the horse. How had he ended up with Flash’s colt? Had he been the buyer, the person who put the last nail in the coffin of her family’s ruined life? She counted surreptitiously on her fingers. He was six years older than her, so that would have made him twenty-one when it all happened.

It could easily have been him.

He pulled the Malibu to a stop outside the Love Nest. She opened her door, then closed it again. She’d never been so emotionally exhausted, but there was no way she could sleep until she found out if Lane had bought Flash.

She didn’t know what she’d do with the information. She knew the buyer shouldn’t bear the blame for the loss of the ranch. But all her life, she’d nursed a burning resentment toward the person who had profited from her family’s misfortune.

She turned toward him, bending one leg and tucking it beneath her. There was no moon tonight, so she could barely see his face.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” she asked. “That bought Flash.”

“Yes.”

“You stole him. You know that, right?”

“I put up my hand. It’s not my fault nobody else did. I would have paid more if anyone else had bid.” He reached over and stroked her arm. “What happened to your family wasn’t my fault.”

She knew he was right. But blaming the shadowy buyer had always been easier than blaming herself. It had been up to her to help the family recover from the perfect storm of disaster that had struck them when they least expected it. And she had failed.

“If nobody had bid, I could have gotten him back,” she said, as much to herself as to him. “I could have worked with him more, settled him down, taken him to the rodeo a few times. We could have gotten triple that price for him. I just needed a little time to get over things.”

“Do you really think anyone would have let you do that?” he asked. “You were a kid, Sarah. From what I heard, they wouldn’t even let anyone open the trailer.”

“They,” she said bitterly. “There was no they. It was my mother that locked him in there.”

“Look, Sarah, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anything about all this when I bought the horse.”

“Just like you didn’t know Two Shot didn’t have a doctor,” she mumbled.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything,” she said. “It’s how you operate. You say you like the dust and dirt, but you don’t know what it’s really like. So you just ignore the reality and tell yourself you’re one of us just because you can ride a horse and get some dirt under your nails once in a while.”

“No,” he said. “That’s not how it is.”

“Then how is it? You didn’t think about the fact that someone was depending on the sale, just like it never occurred to you that people in Two Shot had to drive an hour for medical care.”

“Forty-two minutes,” he said. “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

“Sorry won’t bring back Roy,” she said. “He died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. They didn’t know what to do for him. Sorry won’t bring back the ranch, either. The bank took it when we couldn’t pay the mortgage. And it won’t bring back my mother, who drank herself to death and left me and my sister alone, in that damn gossip-ridden town, with everyone pointing their fingers and judging us.” She sniffed. “And it won’t get me back my horse. Dammit, I loved him, Lane. I was the only one who could ride him, you know that? And he raced for me. He went all out, just for me.”

To her horror, she realized she was crying, tears streaming down her face.

“What happened to Flash?” she asked.

“I had him about five years,” he said. “He got colic. He’s gone.”

She knew it. She’d known the horse she’d worked with yesterday couldn’t be Flash. He’d been too pure, too clean. When she’d worked Flash, she’d felt his secrets like a tangle of wires in his head, complex and impenetrable. The horse she’d worked yesterday was a blank slate. It was as if someone had taken Flash and wiped his mind clear of whatever was wrong with him.

She glanced out the window, the long span of sage and rock blurring as the tears tried to come back. She’d known it couldn’t be Flash. But some little light had burned on in the depths of her heart, hoping it was her horse.

***

Lane watched Sarah struggle to control her emotions. Why couldn’t she just cry? Why did she have to be so strong all the time? She’d had a hard life. But why did she have to hold herself so firmly in check when she was with a man who…

Who loved her. He didn’t want to finish that thought, but the truth wasn’t something he could deny anymore. He loved her, and she thought he’d destroyed her life.

Great. This might be the one fight he couldn’t win.

“I’m sorry, Sarah. I wish—I didn’t know. Nobody bid on the horse. For all I knew, he had nowhere to go. You know where those horses end up when nobody wants them.”

She looked away and he knew he’d struck a nerve. But he didn’t want to hurt her. He wasn’t here to make her face facts; he was here to help her any way he could.

“The horse you worked yesterday is named Cinnamon Chrome.”

“Cinnamon Chrome,” she muttered. “Son of Coppertone Flash.”

He nodded. “We call him Cinn, and believe me, it fits. He’s got the devil in him, but you were great with him.” He paused. “He’s yours if you stay.”

“Stay?” She looked at him like he’d suggested she go get a knife and stab herself. “Stay?”

“Sure.” He pretended he didn’t notice the pallor that had washed over her face, followed by a flood of color that made him wonder if she was going to explode like a human volcano. “Trevor can do ground work, but he can’t ride.”

She turned to him suddenly as if she’d just woken from a deep sleep.

“Why does he work for you?”

“He doesn’t just work for me. He owns half the operation. That’s why it’s called the LT. Lane, Trevor.”

“You gave him half your land?”

“Not the land. The operation. The cattle, and the horse revenues.”

“Why?”

“Because I owe him.” Now it was his turn to stare moodily out the window. “The night Trevor had that accident, he and I were partying together. I knew he was too drunk to drive, but I was too busy talking some buckle bunny into my bed to stop him.”

“That doesn’t make you responsible.”

“Friends look out for each other. And I didn’t. He’d be his old self today if I hadn’t let him walk out that door.” He turned to look at her. “How come you take care of your sister like you do?”

“Same thing.” She fooled with a button on her shirt, avoiding his eyes. “After Roy died, I went off to college. Left her with Mama and nobody to take care of her.” She heaved a heavy sigh and he wondered how those slim shoulders supported so much weight. “She turned to Mike, and when he left—I thought maybe I could make up for the way I’d left her.”

“She seems to be doing okay now,” he said.

“No thanks to me. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”

“Who hasn’t? Maybe you ought to stop trying to fix the past and take care of yourself.”

A faint smile gave her face a little of its old glow. “Maybe you should too.”

“We could do it together. I’m serious. Come work at the ranch. If you could ride that hellion of a stallion, you can ride anything. Cinn would be your signing bonus.”

It was a ridiculously generous offer, and judging by her expression, she knew it. But just when he thought she might say yes, she looked away. He caught the glimmer of a tear on her lower lashes.

“Lane, you don’t understand. I can’t.”

She was right. He didn’t understand. Something was still holding her back—some hidden fear he hadn’t found yet.

“So where are you going to go?”

She looked over at the darkened Love Nest.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll think of something.” She faced him, and a small spark of the old Sarah leapt in her eyes. “It’s not really your concern, okay?”

“No, it’s not. But I want it to be.”

She started to speak, but he held up one hand in a “stop” gesture.

“Look, I know that’s the last thing you want right now. But I want to help.”

“Then leave me alone.”

He took a deep breath. “Actually, I can do that. I need to get on the road and build up some points if I’m going to make the finals this year anyway. Frankly, I should have gone to Amarillo. And then—then you made me want to stay.”

He remembered the softness of her skin in the dark, the glow of her eyes when he made love to her, and wondered if she was thinking the same thing. She looked up at him and there was no trace of that passion in her eyes now. She was still processing the fact that he’d been the man who bought Flash. He’d lost her for good, all because of something he’d done ten years earlier.

All he’d done was buy a horse. Anyone would have done it. But she was right—it had never occurred to him to wonder about Roy’s family, or the fact that his good fortune was someone else’s disaster.

And she was right about another thing. He liked playing cowboy, but he didn’t know a damn thing about what that life was really like. He hung out with the young guys and shared their carefree hours at the rodeo, but when they got in their trucks and went home to their wives, with or without prize money, he really had no idea what happened. He might as well be his brother, perched on his leather throne looking down on the streets of Casper. He didn’t know a damn thing about real life, any more than his brother did.

“I’ll be on the road for a week, maybe two,” he finally said. “Hell, I could stay out for three. Trevor can handle things here. So you’re welcome to stay in the cabin a while.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Sarah, you’ve had a shock. I hate to think of you hitting the road like this.”

“Like what?” She shoved out her chin, trying to look tough.

“Like a basket case.” She shot him a dirty look, but she couldn’t deny it was true. “Stay as long as you need to. Take a little time to think. A couple days, a couple weeks… Whatever you need.”

She looked from him to the window, then back at the man. She really didn’t have any place to go, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“I can take care of myself,” she said. “Don’t do me any favors.”

“Hitting the road isn’t doing a favor for most women.” He did his best to resurrect his usual cocky grin. “Most of ’em want me to stick around.”

She didn’t answer and he opened the car door. “Stay, Sarah. At least for today, tomorrow, as long as it takes to work things out. And if you’re still here when I get back, the job offer’s open.”

“I’ll be gone,” she said as he opened the door. “I might stay the night. I need to make some plans. But you can come back after that. And you won’t hear from me again.”

***

Sarah woke in the morning with an emotional hangover. She felt drained, as if someone had wrung out her heart and left just a shriveled husk behind.

The day before had been like the world’s wildest bronc ride. She’d had that magical moment of reunion with the horse she’d thought was Flash. Then the near-disaster with Kelsey, and the realization of her own shortcomings. And to top it off, she’d discovered that the man she—loved, maybe—was the villain in the life story she’d constructed to cope with her own shortcomings.

She felt like she’d been dropped in the dirt by the ultimate bucking horse. She could feel the fall in her bones; it was like she was bruised right down to her soul.

Rifling through the unfamiliar cupboards, she finally found a coffee cup. Like the rest of the cabin’s meager supply of dishes, it was made of heavy white china decorated with ranch brands and rodeo scenes. She poured herself a cup of the coffee she’d set brewing the night before and took a long sip while she pondered her future.

At least her lack of material goods made her mobile. As she headed for the front porch, she started to formulate a plan. She’d stay at Kelsey’s for a while. Mike would just have to put up with her, because she needed to regroup, redesign, and restore her life. Getting fired from Carrigan wouldn’t help her professional reputation any, but she’d only been there a few months. Maybe if she just left the job off her resume entirely…

Kind of like she’d left any reference to Two Shot out of her conversations about her past. Yeah, that had worked out just great.

She leaned against the log wall and scanned the prairie, drinking in the long, featureless vista as she sipped her coffee. Maybe it was time to stop the sins of omission and face the truth. It wasn’t like the truth was so terrible. She’d gone from relative poverty to success in the business world. That was something to be proud of, right? Anyone could be born to success. It took a special kind of determination to claw your way up from poverty. She was a small-town girl who’d made good—or at least that’s what she’d been yesterday.

Today, she was a small-town girl who’d failed. She was right back where she’d started—in Two Shot country. And she could moan and cuss about that all she wanted, but the truth was, it was time to start clawing her way to success again.