The Cowboy's Sweet Elopement

by Jean Oram

  “But we’re…” April was shaking her head, unsure how to reply.

  “You don’t even know where your husband is tonight. You’ve been married for less than a month, not twenty years. A week ago you were on your honeymoon.”

  “We’re just busy,” April lied, feeling the lameness of the excuse. “And I’ve been trying to get a bit of independence, so my entire life doesn’t hinge on his, and he took it personally. He’s trying to rescue me, which is really sweet, but it’s not what I need. I need him to love me even if I’m a mess.”

  Jackie let out a frustrated groan. “There has never been a time in your whole life that you needed rescuing, April MacFarlane. Sometimes you take the chicken’s way out, such as marrying Heath.”

  “That wasn’t the chicken’s—”

  “Did you feel he was rescuing you, too?”

  April sputtered. “No.”

  “Exactly. Know why? Because you don’t need to be rescued. And you never have.” When April opened her mouth to protest, Jackie demanded, “Who taught you to do laundry and cook and clean for you and your dad?”

  “Nobody.” Maria had given her tips and suggestions after she’d learned April was doing it all herself.

  “Because you figured it out on your own. So cut the crap and give up the excuses, since marriage is something you could figure out if you weren’t afraid to.”

  Jackie turned and started striding down the sidewalk again.

  April gaped after her for a beat, then hurried to catch up. She fell into stride beside her, silent for several moments. “But it’s just that he’s taking care of everything,” she finally said. How did she work around that? He’d been so hurt to find her taking on a new job, and unwilling to see the reasons it would help both of them.

  “Seriously? Quit it. Just…” Jackie inhaled, staring up into the sky, her eyes damp. “Quit undermining what you have.”

  April blinked as though her friend had slapped her. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “It’s hard watching you take love for granted again and again and again.”

  “I’m not.”

  “How many serious relationships have you had in the—“ Jackie halted abruptly and let out a shaky sigh, as though controlling her anger and frustration. “Never mind. I don’t want to fight with you.”

  But April knew where her friend was going, even if she hadn’t said it. April had popped in and out of three serious relationships over the past six years. Meanwhile, Jackie had had zero. She’d been out having fun, not dealing with complicated emotional messes.

  “You’re not perfect when it comes to this stuff, either,” April said softly. “Milk lasts longer than your best relationships.”

  Now Jackie looked as though she’d been slapped, and April realized she’d overstepped.

  “All I’m saying is that maybe you need to get over your fears and kiss Cole,” she said lightly. “Maybe there’s something there.”

  “So go have a fling and forget about looking for love?” Jackie muttered, her tone hinting at danger. “Because why would flirty, fun Jackie Moorhouse ever want anything serious when she’s obviously so happy with her dairy-length relationships?”

  “No, I meant…” When Jackie said it like that, it felt empty and sad. Lonely, too. “I mean, love will happen. Right? But why not have some fun while you wait?”

  “I forgot. Love comes by every few years. I’ll just fill the time in between with some meaningless flings. And if I find a guy, but it looks like a relationship might be too much work, I’ll ditch him and wait for the next man to come along who’s willing to fight over me.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Then what is it? You get all the men falling over you with their hearts served up on a platter, and I get the flings? You get to complain, but I don’t?” Jackie gave a tight shake of her head and strode ahead, jaywalking and leaving April behind.

  “Jackie, I’m sorry.”

  Her friend hunched her shoulders in her jacket, muttering, “Save it.”

  April blinked back tears, confused by Jackie’s outburst. She’d been trying to encourage her, not rub her marriage in Jackie’s face. Because why would she? It was a painful mess, and in some ways Jackie’s simple, uncomplicated life was enviable.

  As April hit Main Street on her own, Bill the armadillo came out of the shadows and growled at her. She stomped her feet and waved her hands, letting out a ferocious roar that hurt her throat. The beast scrambled backward, darting down a narrow alley between two buildings.

  She wished all the beasts in her life were that easy to frighten away.

  11

  There she was. April was wearing jeans and a sweater, looking casual and comfortable, and as gorgeous as always despite the deep furrow between her brows. Brant began weaving between partygoers in the Watering Hole, heading her way.

  He was just about to reach her when Cole stepped into his line of sight, blocking his view. His brother said something to April that made her laugh, her frown vanishing. Then his palm was on her waist, his left hand in her right, and they were dancing.

  Brant closed his fists.

  He began elbowing toward them as they danced away. The last thing he needed right now was for Cole to come zipping into April’s life and convincing her that being married wasn’t for her. She wasn’t in the best head space, given all their fighting, and he needed to show her he had no ulterior motives for being a good, loving husband. He needed her to see that before she left him for real. And her laughing with Cole wouldn’t help. Not tonight.

  Myles caught his arm. “Hey there, Brant. Where are you going looking like you want to stick a shiv in someone’s throat?” His brother’s tone was mild, but his words struck home.

  Brant forced himself to inhale, then exhale the rage that had built up in short order. He was going to need to exhale for about a year or two the way jealousy was clouding his mind, tightening the muscles in his face until he felt as though his head was going to split in two.

  “Let’s go outside,” Myles suggested.

  Brant’s hands bunched again. “No.”

  “I’m serious.” Myles clutched his biceps and bodily removed him from the saloon, smiling and giving everyone they passed an easy, confident hello.

  “You need to get ahold of yourself,” Myles said in his ear as he pushed him outside. “Whatever’s going on between you and April, you need to leave it at the door. She’s allowed to dance with our brother at his party. You hear?”

  Brant fumed. Of course she was allowed to dance with him, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  “People are already talking about you guys. People respect you, but if you act on whatever’s going through your head, you’re going to lose that as well as your business. Maybe even April. You hear me?” He gave Brant a shake.

  Brant slapped his brother’s hands away and scowled. “What are they saying?”

  “I’ve seen this look in your eyes before.”

  He was referring to the night Brant had fought with Cole, the last day their brother had spent on the ranch, five years ago.

  The strength of Brant’s anger faded.

  “This is different,” he muttered, knowing his argument was groundless.

  “Is it? Because you’re acting like a jealous caveman. Being angry and righteous won’t make anyone behave the way you feel is right. Trust her.”

  “She thinks I’m rescuing her. She took a job at Jenny’s and already has one foot out the door.” He had to pace the sidewalk, the feeling in his gut leaving him unsettled. “She didn’t want me getting her horse from Heath.” He met Myles’s eye on that one. “She wanted to leave Cookies with him, not bring him to our ranch. What am I supposed to think?”

  “Do you love her?”

  Brant refused to speak.

  “You know she loves you?”

  He feared it wasn’t in the way that would get them through the long haul Mrs. Fisher had referred to in the diner the other day.


  “What she’s saying and what she’s doing are two separate things,” Brant said. “What am I supposed to believe?”

  “You’ve swept in like a knight on a white horse.”

  Brant glowered at his brother’s assessment.

  “Maybe she needs to take care of some of this stuff for closure, so she can feel like a competent, independent human being. Maybe she wants to feel control over her life and like she can take care of her son.”

  But she wasn’t taking care of things. She was floundering, hitting barriers.

  “I can take care of her and Kurt.”

  “She knows that. But maybe she needs to feel like it. Even just a little bit. Isn’t that why she left Heath? She was living his life, not her own?”

  April’s statement from Monday hit him in the solar plexus.

  “My life is your life. Without you, I don’t have one.”

  He’d excused her words, then brushed them off. But now they hit him again and again, like a relentless heavyweight champion.

  “I love her,” Brant said sullenly. “Helping is what husbands do.”

  “I’m sure Mom would have loved it if Dad had done everything for her,” Myles muttered, taking one long last look at Brant before heading back inside, the sound of music growing louder before the door shut again.

  Mom was different. She knew her place was on the ranch. She was strong and capable. Not that April wasn’t, but the situation wasn’t even close to the same. Their mother hadn’t had to start over when the boys were still young. She’d never been a single mom, jobless and homeless.

  Brant sat on the concrete steps of the saloon as the entrance light above flickered. Rusty, a brown-and white retriever mixed breed, ambled out of the shadows and rolled onto his back in front of him. Brant stretched out his booted foot and gently rubbed it along the dog’s shaggy belly. Rusty panted, his face a ridiculous upside-down smile as he curved his spine to grin at Brant.

  “I’m being dumb, aren’t I? I’m acting like Heath did and overshadowing her life and ways of doing things with my own. And worse, now I’m acting like a jealous fool instead of letting her grow and change on her own terms, and be the woman I love.”

  The dog panted in agreement.

  Brant sighed. “So what do I do? March in there and dance with her until she forgives me for trying too hard to make everything perfect for her?”

  Rusty continued to smile at him.

  Lacking a better plan, Brant headed inside.

  April allowed Cole to waltz her across the dance floor as the second song started.

  “Will you tell me someday why you stayed away for so long?” she asked.

  Cole held his breath while he contemplated her question, steering them smoothly through the crowd. Quite a few people had come out for his welcome-back party, announced by a banner hanging on the wall above the band.

  “Sure,” he said finally. He pushed her out into a spin, and when she came back toward him, the room a blur, his eyes were caught elsewhere. As he continued to gaze over her shoulder, April took a surreptitious peek.

  Jackie Moorhouse sitting alone at a small table by the saloon’s front window.

  April swallowed, recalling the hurt she’d felt because of their fight and harsh words. Jackie thought she was undermining herself with Brant, but April knew Jackie was being a big chicken.

  “You should talk to her,” she said casually.

  Cole blinked. “Sorry?”

  “You should ask Jackie to dance.”

  He shook his head. “We have nothing in common. We were talking at New Year’s and it was nothing but awkward.” His attention slipped her way once again.

  “Ask her about her car,” April suggested.

  “It’s a nice car.”

  “Brant got her a dog.”

  “Yeah? Is he going to get you one?”

  She looked away, feeling hurt and rejected once again, over a dog she’d requested months ago. Sure, Dodge was at the house now, but Brant often left him at the ranch after finishing his morning chores, or took him to the clinic with him. Dodge didn’t really feel like the family pet.

  Did Brant not think she was capable of caring for a dog?

  “We’ve been pretty busy,” she said.

  Cole frowned, his face creased in thought.

  “What?”

  He shook his head and readjusted his grip on her waist, his embrace comfortable and familiar. If anyone had told her five years ago that he’d vanish for so long, then reappear, only for them to be able to spend a moment like this without any vile history brewing up between them--the two of them acting civil, like friends even—she would have called them a dirty liar. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. Although she was getting the feeling that Cole hadn’t quite healed all of his, and that they were more layered and complex than her own.

  “Tell me,” she insisted, and he continued to frown.

  “It’s just his thing.”

  “I know. He’s a dog matchmaker.”

  “No.” Cole was intent, serious. “Having been away, I see stuff differently. He gets all the women close to our family a dog. So why not you?”

  Cole was watching April, and her spirits plummeted.

  She scoffed, trying to hide the hurt. “He married me. I’m more than family.”

  Cole gave a casual shrug. “Maybe he hasn’t decided whether he’s going to keep you or not.” He winked playfully.

  Instead of laughing, April felt cold dread. He’d never found a dog for Shelley St. Martin, either. Was Cole onto something?

  “Can I cut in?” Daisy-Mae asked, one hand already on Cole’s shoulder.

  “Of course.” April stepped away from him and noted how he took in Daisy-Mae’s outfit with swift interest. She was dressed in typical sexy cowgirl gear despite the cool January day. She quickly fitted herself into Cole’s arms as though she’d always belonged there.

  Brant had given Daisy-Mae a dog. Jackie, too.

  They danced away from April, and she smoothed her hands down her jeans. She needed to get off the dance floor.

  “Hey,” a familiar voice said, and April spun, a smile already in place.

  Brant.

  He looked tired.

  She longed to launch herself into his arms, but hesitated, Cole’s last comment still dinging around in her head like a pinball. That and her fight with Brant over her new job. And Jackie’s harsh words about how she was undermining her marriage as well as taking love for granted.

  April put her hands in her pockets and asked, “Are you going to get me a dog?”

  “The last thing we need right now is a new pet,” he said soberly.

  “Why?”

  “When are either of us ever home these days? You’re working two jobs.”

  “Kurt wants one.”

  She saw Brant pause slightly, as though guilt was weighing on him.

  She crossed her arms, studying him. “You don’t think I should have a dog.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “Then you don’t approve of me? You don’t think of me as part of the family? You don’t think I’m going to stay?”

  It was like all the unspoken fears of the week poured out of her mouth.

  “Not here,” Brant said quietly, a muscle in his jaw flexing.

  “Then where?” She didn’t care if people noticed their discussion. This was important. Worth fighting for. Anywhere. Anytime. “And when?”

  It was time to fight it out for real, so she could figure out what was really going on inside her husband’s head.

  April fumed, trotting alongside Brant all the way home. He wouldn’t talk, simply kept up a punishing pace with his long legs.

  This was not how she imagined fighting with him. Fights with Heath and Cole had been fast and furious, not leaving a dull ache that pressed down on her. It hurt fighting with Brant, and she wasn’t sure how they were going to fill the holes they were making with this coldness, and leaving things hanging in the air.

  “Wh
at’s his truck doing here?” Brant asked, pointing a finger at Heath’s dual-wheeled diesel parked in front of the house.

  “He’s babysitting.”

  “It’s not babysitting when it’s your kid, and it’s your week to have him. It’s called parenting.”

  “I know,” April said, holding her hands out, wanting to calm him. “But one step at a time.” Anything with Heath was a win right now.

  “Why is he here? Why is he in our home? He has his own house to take Kurt to.”

  “He’s doing us a favor.”

  “A favor?” Brant’s voice rose. “By adhering to your legal agreement?”

  “Kurt needs him in his life.”

  “You need to set some clear expectations and boundaries. You’re divorced.”

  “I know that.” But if she pushed Heath too hard, she’d end up with nothing. She needed to get him where she wanted, little by little. “Quit acting so jealous. You’re being unreasonable.”

  “Me? Me?” Brant was livid. More angry than she’d ever seen him.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “You act like he’s doing you a favor by taking care of his son. He hit me only a few weeks ago. And you just let him into our home without talking to me.”

  “He’s Kurt’s dad.”

  “In what universe do you think I want to come home to find him sitting on my couch, drinking my beer and acting like he’s doing us some grand favor by finally being a dad?”

  “I didn’t…” April glanced at the house, where a beam of light slipped through the front window, lighting a warped square of lawn.

  “You didn’t think about me, did you?”

  “You’ve been working and busy all week! I needed a babysitter!”

  “To go to Cole’s party.”

  “Yes!”

  “To dance with Cole.”

  “Stop it. Just stop it.” This was so unlike Brant she didn’t know what to do. And now she had to go inside and face Heath. Thank him for his help, while having Brant shoot daggers at her with his eyes.

  The front door opened and April braced herself for whatever was about to happen next.