The Last Good Cowboy

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The Last Good Cowboy Page 18

by Kate Pearce


  Something snapped and Ry literally saw red. “Because I’m supposed to protect you, goddamn it! That’s what Mom said, and you know what she did to me when I didn’t obey that order—you know!”

  Ry only realized how hard he was shaking when he tried to unclench his fist.

  “What did she do to you, Ry?”

  His dad’s quiet voice penetrated his furious haze.

  Ry struggled to breathe, his gaze still locked with HW’s. “Nothing. She did . . . nothing.”

  “She hurt him. That last year after Rachel was born? She’d pinch him, and poke him, and threaten him, and blame him if anything went wrong.” HW’s voice was trembling. “She made him pay for every single little thing I did, and God knows I wasn’t an angel.”

  “Shut up, HW.”

  His twin shook his head. “No, I won’t. This needs to be said. Is that really why you stayed with me? Because she said so? That’s sick, bro. That’s . . . terrible.”

  Ry looked away. “That’s not true.”

  HW came even closer until they were nose to nose.

  “You still resent the hell out of me, don’t you?”

  All Ry’s anger drained away, leaving him feeling sick and empty.

  “For being the favorite child? Why the hell would I care, HW? I survived, didn’t I? We were just kids.”

  “But—”

  Ry straightened up. “And how about we get back to the matter at hand? How about you apologize for what you’ve put Ruth and Billy through instead of justifying and defending yourself?”

  HW flinched as if Ry had slapped him. “Go screw yourself. I just told you I don’t need your protection any longer, and I certainly don’t need you telling me what to do. I was just about to apologize. Why the hell do you think I got here as fast as I could?”

  Ry raised a skeptical eyebrow and HW slammed his fist in Ry’s face. Pain exploded in his jaw and he rocked on his heels, trying to stay upright and not crumble into the pain.

  “Yeah, nice.” He rubbed his jaw. “Don’t bother to apologize for that one either, bro. I’m out of here.”

  “HW! Leave it!” Ruth commanded as Ry pushed past his twin. “Let him be.”

  Ry stumbled down the steps and into the yard, climbed into his truck and was away before his mind caught up with him, and then he wished it hadn’t. His face throbbed along to his ragged heartbeat and he just drove, aware of his cell buzzing in his pocket, but more than happy to obey the law and ignore it forever.

  How the hell had it come to this? Brawling with his twin in front of his family? Losing his temper and stirring up shit that should’ve remained hidden? He’d have to go back at some point, and then there would be questions—questions he didn’t have answers for.

  He realized he was parked behind the hotel and had no clear notion of how he’d managed it. He went in through the kitchens, ignoring the startled faces of the staff until his arm was taken in a firm grip by Tucker, who led him into one of the offices.

  “Were you in an accident? Do you need me to call 911?” Tucker asked, his concerned brown gaze just like his sister’s.

  “Where’s Avery?”

  “She’s working in the restaurant.”

  “Can you tell her I’m here?”

  Tucker opened the door. “I can do better than that. I’ll take you to her room and let her know you’re up there, okay?”

  Ry nodded and meekly followed Tucker, who somehow managed to snag a bag of ice and a towel on the way back through the kitchen, which he offered to Ry.

  “For your jaw.”

  “Thanks.”

  He left Ry sitting on Avery’s bed. All Ry could think about was how good Tucker was at his job, and how much Chase might have to pay him to lure him away from the hotel to the guest ranch. But what would the Hayes parents do if the ranch stole two of their best employees?

  “Ry?”

  He didn’t look up as Avery came in. She sank down in front of him and put her hand on his knee. Her nails were pink and had red hearts on them.

  “Tucker said you were hurt.”

  He continued to study her nail polish. The hearts were random, and that was driving him nuts. And how the hell did you apply them when they were so small?

  “You had your nails done.”

  She went still. “Yeah. Nancy did them for me. Do you like them?”

  “The hearts aren’t symmetrical.”

  “I know. You just shake up the nail polish and they come out on the brush when they feel like it. Nancy says it’s good therapy for my over-organized mind.” She paused. “Did someone hit you?”

  “Yeah. HW.”

  She leaned over, picked up the bag of ice and the tea towel, and gently applied them to his jaw.

  He winced and she kissed his nose.

  “Did you get him back?”

  He looked right into her eyes. “What makes you think I didn’t hit him first?”

  “Because HW’s the firecracker, not you.”

  “I didn’t touch him.”

  “Good.”

  He gingerly flexed his jaw. “I don’t think it’s broken.”

  “Even better.”

  For something to do, he pressed his hand over the now damp tea towel, releasing her fingers, and just focused on breathing her in. There was a subtle roar of conversation from the guests congregated in the bar beneath her room, and the occasional sound of a truck passing in the street.

  Familiar sounds . . . comforting ones.

  “Is it okay if I sit next to you on the bed?”

  “Shit.” He reached down to help her to her feet. There was no way she could’ve been comfortable on the floor with her weak hip. “Sorry.”

  She sat beside him, moving his hat out of the way. Her thigh was warm against his. At some point she’d kicked off her shoes to reveal pink socks with bunnies on them.

  “Did you do your toes?”

  “Didn’t have time. The hotel’s bursting at the seams. so we’ve all had to work full shifts.”

  “Sorry to drag you away.”

  She took his hand and squeezed his fingers. “That’s okay.”

  Silence fell again and he marveled at not only her patience, but also her restraint. Most people would’ve been all over him for details, asking intrusive questions, and she just waited him out. Waited for him to work out what he needed to say, which was proving beyond him at the moment.

  He wanted to make love to her—to forget everything but her scent and her welcome as he slid inside. He already knew what she’d say if he suggested that. She’d say he was avoiding stuff, and she’d be right.

  He put the bag of ice and towel on the carpet and felt along his jaw. HW had caught him fair and square. Had he deserved it?

  Probably.

  Beside him, Avery stirred. “Do you want to get into bed so I can hold you?”

  He swallowed hard. “Only if it’s okay with you. I don’t want—”

  She gently touched his lips with her fingertip, silencing his protest. “I’m here, and I want to be with you. I just thought we might be more comfortable. You’re shivering.”

  He heel-and-toed his boots off and got under the covers. She followed him, cuddling against his side while he put one arm around her shoulders. She hadn’t bothered putting any more lights on, so there was only the faint pink glow of her bedside lamp. He bent his head and nuzzled her hair, inhaling not only the scent of her favorite shampoo but also whatever they’d been serving down in the hotel restaurant before he’d taken her away from her job.

  “Do you need to get back?”

  She placed her palm on his T-shirt right over his heart. “Nope. Tucker’s covering for me.”

  He drew her even closer, allowed his head to fall back against the headboard, and closed his eyes. Images of his mom immediately overwhelmed him, so he opened them again. Eventually, he settled on someplace to start talking.

  “HW said he didn’t know what Francesca was going to do.”

  “It’s possible.”
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br />   “He insinuated that she’d gotten the idea after she’d been to the ranch—as if one of us had spoken out of turn.”

  “Well, that’s HW all over. He’s always been a creative thinker.” She hesitated. “But at least he came back to face the music.”

  “Only because Chase told him to.”

  “Come on, Ry. If HW hadn’t wanted to be found, he would have disappeared and only reemerged for the finals in Vegas.”

  He let that sink in.

  “He didn’t get much of a chance to explain himself.”

  “Before you two got into it?”

  “He was saying stuff . . . about our mom, right there in front of everyone, talking about how she blamed me for everything, and made my life hell.”

  He breathed hard through his nose. “Talking about her telling me I was responsible for HW, who could do no wrong in her eyes. Saying I was the reason why she was mad all the time, and you know what? It didn’t matter what I did, whether I tried to be perfect, whether I tried to make HW behave, or I looked after the baby when she couldn’t be bothered. I was never good enough. I was always the bad seed.”

  “Ry . . .”

  “And you know what else? How the hell could she say that?” Now that he’d started talking he couldn’t seem to stop. His voice cracked. “HW and I are identical. What did she see that made her hate me, and love him?”

  Avery made a distressed sound and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him against her shoulder, cutting off his words. With his mouth pressed against the curve of her throat, he shuddered and let go, felt the humiliating sting of his hot tears.

  He had no idea how long she held him. Eventually he stirred, and she let him go. He couldn’t look at her, didn’t dare.

  “HW said he was fed up with me looking out for him and stealing his joy. I lost it and called him out about how I was supposed to be the responsible one, the one who made things right for him because Mom said—” He sighed. “Yeah—so he called me out on that. Said I should’ve done what I wanted my whole life instead of following in his shadow making him feel guilty for being alive.”

  “I’m sure you never meant to do that. You love him.”

  She was offering him a lifeline—a way to claw back his self-respect and move on, but this time he wasn’t in the right place to take it.

  “I love him because he’s my twin, but he’s right. I also resented him for being the favorite. I didn’t even realize how much until right now. It puts everything I’ve done for him in a new light, doesn’t it?”

  “Not everything.”

  “Maybe I stuck by him not out of love, but out of some perverse desire to make sure he failed.”

  She didn’t say anything for a long while, and then she got out of the bed and stomped over to the door.

  The bottom fell out of Ry’s stomach, and he pushed the covers aside. “God, I’m sorry. Don’t—”

  She held up one finger. “Stay there, okay? I’ll be back in a second.”

  * * *

  Avery’s heart was hammering as she went down to the kitchen and located her cell phone sitting on the windowsill. With fingers that trembled, she texted January.

  Ry with me, tell Ruth not to worry

  She exhaled at the instant reply.

  Got it. x

  She went into the pantry, grabbed the best brandy, two glasses, and two bottles of water, and went back up the stairs. Ry was out of bed, his back to her, staring out of the window. He hadn’t actually looked at her since she’d gotten into bed with him.

  He spoke without turning around. “Maybe I should go.”

  “Don’t you dare.” She carefully placed the brandy and glasses on her desk. “I just stole Dad’s favorite brandy. He’ll kill me if he finds out.”

  He finally turned. “I’ll take it back when I leave.”

  Avery pointed at the chair. “Either sit down or get back into bed, Ry.”

  He made a hopeless gesture that almost broke her heart, and sat on the side of the bed, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stared down at his socks.

  She poured them both a brandy and went to sit beside him.

  “Here you go.”

  He took the glass and grimaced. “I don’t like brandy.”

  “Neither do I, but I think we both need it.” She swirled hers around in the large balloon-shaped glass and warmed it with her hands. “You’ve had a sucky kind of day.”

  There was a bruise forming on his jaw, and she wanted to kiss it better. She wanted to drive over to Morgan Ranch and slap HW silly for daring to upset her man.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She sipped her brandy, appreciating the way the warmth spread through her body. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not.”

  She hated the bleakness in his voice.

  “All right—then how are you going to make things better?”

  She kept her gaze on his strong, capable hands as he cupped the glass, gently swirling the brandy before taking a sip.

  He sighed. “Find Mom, and have it out with her? If she hasn’t bolted after all that crap on the TV.”

  “Oh wow, I didn’t think about that. Do you think she would’ve watched the show?”

  “If she did, and she knows we’ve been looking for her, then she might work out that things are about to go postal and leave.”

  “Or maybe it might encourage her to come forward.”

  “After twenty years? I don’t think she wants anything to do with us.”

  Avery considered her reply. “Then, let’s just hope she’s not a TV watcher.” She finished her brandy and waited until Ry did the same. “Better?”

  He managed a faint smile. “Well, I’m not shaking or crying anymore, so I’d call that a win.” He took the brandy glass out of her hand and set it on the bedside table beside his. “The thing is—at some point I’ve got to face them all at the ranch.”

  “What do you think they are going to do? Disown you for fighting with your twin?”

  “No, they’re used to that these days. It’s more that they are going to want to talk about crap, about what HW said.”

  “Because they care about you.”

  “But it doesn’t change anything, does it?” He finally looked her right in the eye. “You can’t alter the past.”

  “True, but you do have to learn how to live with it.” She hesitated, reluctant to sound like she was interfering in something so deeply personal. But he had come to her. She couldn’t believe it, but it meant the world. “Isn’t it better if you are all on the same page? It just means there are less misunderstandings as you move forward.”

  “You sound like Jenna. She spent years in family therapy and now she’s starting to get into it with BB and the rest of us.” He dragged an unsteady hand through his hair. “The thing is—I’m supposed to be the calm one, the one that nothing upsets—the peacemaker, you know? I like that. So now—with what HW told them, they’re going to feel different about me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’ll think I’m . . . weak.”

  “For being unfairly picked on by your obviously depressed mother?” He didn’t say anything. The vulnerability in his eyes made her want to weep and smash something at the same time. “They love you, Ry. They aren’t going to judge you like that.”

  He let out his breath. “I don’t suppose I have any choice in the matter, do I? I can’t tell them how to act toward me.”

  She leaned in and kissed him. His lips tasted of brandy. “You don’t have to go home right now, do you?”

  “Haven’t I dumped on you enough?”

  She smiled into his eyes. “Nope. Stay the night. Everything will look better in the morning—and you can score a free breakfast at the buffet downstairs.”

  He kissed her very carefully. “Thank you, Avery.”

  “It’s okay. I know how much you like your food.”

  “Not that—” He hesitated, and kissed her again. “You know what I mean. I’d love to stay.”


  She was so glad because she wanted to take care of him, to keep him safe and away from harm. If he’d tried to leave, she might have been forced to tie him to her bedpost. She smiled against his throat as he drew her into his arms with such tenderness that she felt like a precious object. Strange how he could still make her feel that way when he was the one who needed her tonight.

  She stripped off his T-shirt to encourage him to get naked, and he helped her with her clothes until they were together under the covers. He reached over to turn out the lamp and she cuddled against his side. His hand moved down over her hip and settled on her butt, urging her even closer.

  In the darkness he slowly exhaled and she rubbed her cheek against his chest.

  “Okay?”

  “Getting there.”

  From the relaxing of his tense muscles she really believed that he was.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ry rode up to Roy’s house and parked Dolittle outside the barn before heading into the kitchen.

  “Hey, what are we doing today? More fences up at the ghost town?”

  Roy was sitting at the table reading the local newspaper and eating some kind of breakfast burrito that was dripping greasy stuff onto the table. He looked over the top of the paper at Ry.

  “Yup, fences it is. I’ll be ready in a few.”

  Ry leaned casually against the countertop like he hadn’t a care in the world. He’d decided to take the coward’s way out and avoid the ranch house completely, so he’d snuck into the barn, saddled Dolittle and been away before the sun had fully risen. He figured Roy was the least involved in the whole mess, and would have the least to say. At least he hoped so. Roy could be blunt when he had something on his mind, and he’d been there when it had all gone down at the dinner table last night.

  “Do you want me to check the supplies while you’re finishing up?”

  “Sure. Billy took a truckload of wire and fence posts up there yesterday, but we can always do with more.” This time Roy didn’t bother to lower the paper when he answered.

  Ry was just about to leave when he finally took in the front page, which had a picture of HW on the front. Had Jada, the editor of the local rag, decided to go with the story, or had she been made to do so by her higher-ups? She was on the Morgantown Historical Society board, and was supposedly a friend of January’s. He didn’t pause to read the headline and went outside into the welcoming sunlight.

 

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