Allister, J. Rose - Disowned Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Allister, Rose J.

  “See you at noon,” Stan was saying, and he left.

  David paused at the office door before turning toward her. “He asked me to lunch to celebrate his biggest dividend payout to date. And to introduce me to a couple of his golf buddies who have some money to invest. It’s up at the cigar club, unfortunately. I know you’d hate it.”

  “That’s okay,” she said with a half smile. “I wanted to ask a favor, anyway. I hate to ask after coming in late, but can I take off early today? I have some errands to run.” She hesitated. “Later on, I’ll have that answer for you. Say, over dinner?”

  His eyes searched hers for a span of beats. “Dinner sounds great. I suppose there’s not much else going on here today. I could probably spare you for a few hours after lunch.”

  She nodded and hustled over to the file cabinet. If there was any truth to Dillon’s claim that her recent sexual escapades made her somehow more attractive to men, keeping distance between them seemed like a good idea. “You have three other meetings, one with the broker from Marlowe and Fitch at three, and two with new clients after that. They’re in the appointment book.”

  “I’ll be fine. I know you need to go take care of your Mom’s payment.”

  She pulled out a couple files and cocked her head at him. “Do I?”

  He folded his arms. “Don’t you?”

  “It’s okay, David. I already know.”

  His eyes crinkled into an amused expression. “Know what?”

  “I called Applewood while you were in the meeting. They gave me her account balance.”

  “So, you’ll go handle your part today. My payment will mail out on the first, as usual. I hope that will be okay?”

  She laughed. “David, don’t you think you’ve done enough already?”

  “I know I acted like an ass last night, but I do intend to keep helping you with your mother. I wasn’t trying to hijack your answer to my proposal by making you think otherwise.”

  No, just trying to hijack her heart away from the men who currently held it in a two-fisted grip.

  “I’d say you more than proved that by your gesture this morning.”

  He glanced at her desk. “You like the rose that much? I should have started bringing you flowers a long time ago.”

  “Not the rose. I’m talking about Mom’s account.”

  His brows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

  “You went down there today, didn’t you? To Applewood.”

  He shook his head. “I had the breakfast meeting and then came here hoping you’d just forgotten and had showed up to the office instead of the restaurant.”

  “But you stopped off for flowers. Did you go anywhere else?”

  “I got the rose from the flower shop down on the corner.” He eyed her strangely. “What’s this all about?”

  She blinked. Why was he playing innocent? Maybe he was trying to be discreet because he didn’t want her answer to hinge solely on knowing what he’d done. Maybe he was right. Her answer shouldn’t hinge on knowing about it.

  “Nothing.” She closed the metal file cabinet and walked as far from David as she could to deposit the files on her desk. “I just need to take care of a few errands.”

  “That’s fine. You head out at lunch, and I’ll pick you up around seven for dinner. Okay?”

  She nodded, not sure whether things were okay or not. Either David was playing games with her or there really had been a mistake on her mother’s account. She would go down there in person to straighten it out and render the proper payment if need be. Then she needed to straighten out her head, once and for all.

  Chapter Eight

  Instead of marching straight into the business office as she’d intended, Aimee wound up at the nurse’s station by her mother’s room.

  “She’s out in the gardens getting some air,” the nurse told her, directing Aimee to the rear door.

  The gardens were sunny and warm, and her mother’s soft, brown hair shone under the bright light as she sat in a wheelchair staring at a peaceful fountain. A lump formed in Aimee’s throat to see her mother outside again. Jackie Stevens had dearly loved her own garden and spent so much time outdoors that Aimee’s main memories of seeing her mother inside involved cooking up the harvest from her garden.

  “Hi, Mom,” Aimee said. She smiled at the attendant seated nearby.

  The woman rose from the bench beside the wheelchair and smoothed down her white uniform smock. “I’ll leave you two to visit awhile. Just let someone know before you leave.”

  Aimee nodded and took in her mother’s face. At just fifty years old, she looked twenty years older. The carefree, smiling woman Aimee remembered was gone, replaced by the slack-faced, often vacant expression she wore these days. Her pale pink bathrobe and scuff slippers did little to enhance the faded pallor that was a far cry from the suntan she’d sported most of Aimee’s life and probably a lot longer.

  “I know I was just here yesterday,” Aimee said, knowing full well her mother wouldn’t remember any such thing. “I came by to talk to the business office and thought I’d say hello.”

  Her mother’s gray eyes continued to stare at the three-tiered cement fountain. “Peaches for lunch,” she said.

  “That’s nice. You love peaches.”

  “Can’t count to twenty.”

  The lump thickened. “That’s okay. The nurses or I will count with you whenever you need twenty.”

  “No!” She slapped a hand on the arm of her wheelchair, and her gray eyes swiveled to Aimee. “No, no, no. It has to be twenty.”

  It was one of those days. Aimee sighed. There were times when her mother sounded like a petulant child. Really, she knew it was random portions of her mother’s brain that were firing in a desperate attempt to retain a grip that was continually slipping away.

  Aimee took her mother’s hand. “I’m here, Mom. It’s okay. You’re okay. Isn’t the garden lovely?”

  That drew the woman’s attention back to the surroundings. “I keep the best garden in the neighborhood. I go out every morning and tend it until lunch.”

  “I remember.” Aimee sighed. “It was really beautiful.”

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “I wish you could tell me what to do, Mom. I think I’ve really made a mess of things.”

  “Clean up after yourself.”

  She studied the lines etched in her mother’s face, around the eyes that used to be so caring, so present. “I wish I could.” Aimee used her thumb to trace the veins on the back of her mother’s hand. “Do you think it’s wrong to marry someone just because they can take better care of you financially than someone else? Am I a shallow gold digger? Shouldn’t I want to make sure you get everything you need?”

  Her mother frowned, still gazing off into the garden. “Roses don’t bloom in January.”

  “This is May, Mom.”

  “No. I just threw that big New Year’s party.”

  The last party she ever gave was during Aimee’s freshman year in high school.

  Her mother’s hazel eyes found hers. “You know your problem? Your head rules your heart. Always has.” The woman shook her head. “So sad.”

  Aimee gawked at her. “But, it’s good that I use my head. I can’t let love take control. Love won’t help me take care of my life.”

  “Love takes care of everything.” Jackie reached over and patted Aimee’s hand. “Love makes you find a way, Susan.”

  Her heart sank. “It’s Aimee, Mom. Your daughter.”

  Her mother screwed up her face into a squint, deepening her wrinkles as she studied Aimee’s features. “I have a daughter?”

  Tears came as Aimee nodded, even though she had made a firm decision long ago to never let her mother see her cry over her condition. She wiped a hand over her eyes to clear her blurry vision, only to see her mother’s were glazed over, too. “Oh, Mom. Don’t cry. Everything’s just fine.” Aimee sniffed and turned to the bright rose bushes nearby. “Isn’t the garden lovely?” />
  A smile touched her mother’s face again as her gaze drifted off. “I have the best garden in the neighborhood. I’ll be putting up preserves this weekend, if you want to stop by for a jar.”

  Aimee nodded and stood up, pressing a kiss to her mother’s shiny hair. “I love you, Mom. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

  She wandered back inside on shaking legs. Her mother didn’t even know who she was. Aimee certainly shouldn’t read too much into her relationship advice.

  Once at the business office, she stood at the counter and asked the clerk to pull up her mother’s account. The woman confirmed the credit of one hundred thousand dollars.

  “But can you tell me who made the payment?” Aimee asked. “As delighted as I am to accept such a credit, it wouldn’t be honest if this is some kind of mistake.”

  The skinny brunette behind the counter shook her head and scratched at what appeared to be an itchy knit sweater. The grassy shade reflected nicely into her eyes, making them appear an even more vibrant green. Still, the eyes regarded Aimee as though she were the one in need of medical treatment. “There was no mistake, ma’am. I can’t recall his name off the top of my head, but he wanted to make absolutely certain that he had the right Mrs. Stevens. He mentioned you specifically—Aimee Jo. I went over everything myself and processed the bank transfer.”

  “You were the clerk who took the payment? So you saw him, then. What did he look like?”

  The green eyes turned wistful. “Tall, blond, gorgeous beyond reason. Hot accent, too.”

  Aimee’s breath caught. “Accent?”

  “Yeah. You know, slang. Lots of cowboys in these parts, what with the ranches over in Hillerton and up the mountain.” The woman sighed. “I’d love to land me a rich, handsome ranch man.”

  Every limb in Aimee’s body froze up. “He was a cowboy?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The woman giggled as she affected a western drawl on the last word. “Hat and manners and all.”

  “Are you sure you can’t remember his name?” Although, Aimee was getting a fair idea who it might be. “Surely you had to get that information to make a bank transfer.”

  “The payment came through a business account.” She went to her computer and punched some keys. “Here it is. West Ways Ranch.”

  A ranch paid? An uneasy feeling fluttered in her stomach. “But what was the man’s name?”

  The brunette scrunched up her face like she was deep in thought. “Darn. You’d think I’d remember, gorgeous as he was. Cain, maybe? Clark? He just said his ranch wanted to make a donation to your mother’s care and gave your name. Did you buy some horses recently or something?”

  Aimee shook her head, dumbstruck. Tall, blond, cowboy twang. Only one man fit that description. But he didn’t own a ranch.

  She hesitated. “The name wasn’t Kyle, was it?”

  The woman’s face brightened. “Yes, that’s it! Kyle West.”

  Aimee just stood there, staring.

  “Ma’am?”

  She blinked and cleared her throat. “Sorry. I understand now. Thank you for looking up the information.”

  She rushed out of the office and climbed into her car, numb and reeling from this latest development. How could this be true? How could Kyle afford something like that? More important, why would he do something like that? Despite their night together, he was very reserved where she was concerned—almost the polar opposite of Dillon. He knew she was still thinking of marrying David. He had abandoned her without a word after climbing into her bed. To make such a monumental contribution in light of the whole picture made no sense. Was he trying to make a point about her assumption that he was destitute? That must be it.

  Okay, so she’d presumed that neither of the cowboys had any means of support. What else was she supposed to deduce? They hadn’t given her reason to think otherwise. They made assumptions, too. They thought she should toss her life aside for men she didn’t even know. Then they accused her of being a money-grubber who only cared about getting a rich man, which wasn’t true at all.

  Was it?

  She revved her motor and glanced into the rearview mirror. Accusing eyes stared back. Honestly, what was the reason she’d clung to for refusing Kyle and Dillon? That reason hadn’t been enough to keep her out of their arms, but out of the running for a relationship. Okay, fine. Maybe she did place money above love where romance was concerned. Maybe if Kyle and Dillon had been forced to take over running a household while still in high school, they’d be worried about financial stability, too. They hadn’t wanted to accept that she couldn’t hand her life over to men she just met, regardless of the way they made her feel. Because of that, they’d left her bed without so much as a fare-thee-well. Loved and left.

  Her mouth drew into a tight slash, and she looked away from the mirror. She’d been in such a mad panic since discovering she was late for work that she hadn’t let herself stop long enough to allow that ugly bit of reality sink in. Too bad it couldn’t have stayed that way. Instead, rejection crashed over her like thunder while she drove away from Applewood. How stupid she’d been.

  She had been truly frightened when she’d thought Kyle had been seriously injured by the truck. Terrified, really. She thought she would lose him and had taken both men into her home without a thought. Kyle and Dillon had made love to her and made her feel things she never dreamed existed. They had offered to “claim” her, though she wasn’t clear on what sort of commitment that entailed. They had tried to get her to admit that what she felt for them couldn’t be denied, and as she turned onto the highway into the mountains, she realized that they were right. But sometime during the night, the men had disappeared without a word. No note and no explanation, except the one reason that played through her mind now.

  They were tired of her rejection, of her giving into passion from arm’s length while making it clear that they weren’t good for her high-maintenance life. Had Kyle’s payment been a parting shot to punish her for being wrong about him? A this-is-what-you-gave-up statement to think about during long, desolate nights? Dillon stealing her engagement ring was no doubt his way of getting in a last blow on the way out the door. And maybe she deserved it. A woman seriously contemplating marriage to someone else wouldn’t be so brazen as to let two other men fuck her simultaneously in the shower. Not a woman who deserved to have her “I do” taken seriously.

  She had to get real honest, real fast, and when she did, she knew she’d already made her decision back in the cave. That was why Kyle and Dillon could drive her to do things she had no right to do while wearing another man’s ring. Her finger might have worn that symbol of commitment, but her heart didn’t. Her heart belonged to them.

  “Mom was right,” she whispered to her reflection in the rearview. “Love makes you find a way.” Just like Aimee had found a way to see to it her mother was cared for, no matter what. She’d been a high-school girl and had made it through out of sheer love for the woman who had raised her.

  She didn’t deserve David, and she didn’t deserve Kyle or Dillon, either. She’d betrayed all three of them in different ways. Now she had to pay the consequences. She had to admit the truth, even if it was too late to get what she wanted. It would likely mean a broken heart and losing her job, but she couldn’t go on lying to herself or any of the others. It was time to set things right.

  Chapter Nine

  Aimee had felt quite pleased with herself for having the foresight to stop on the way up to purchase a sturdy battery-operated lantern and bottled water. Now, as every pebble poked at her feet through her low-heeled pumps while she walked through the cave tunnel, she cursed herself for lacking the brains to change into decent footwear as well. Maybe one of these days she’d get these trips to the mountains right. Assuming there would ever be one again.

  She was already standing in the vacant cave room when she realized she hadn’t really expected either of the men to be there. Dillon hadn’t bothered to chain himself up during the previous night’s full m
oon, and tonight’s moon would be the weakest of the three. Besides, it wasn’t even nightfall yet. Nevertheless, she wondered whether he might have stashed the ring in the cave. She used the lantern and a flashlight from her car to search the dirt floor for it.

  “Damn it,” she said when she came up empty handed. She set the lantern and flashlight down near the pile of chains against the far wall. A thought hit, and she carefully uncoiled the pile to check underneath. Nothing.

  She dropped the chains with a rattle but held onto Dillon’s heavy metal collar while she sat down on the cave floor. She turned the collar over in her hands, trying to picture what it was like to be restrained that way. How did he feel, chained up all alone while waiting for Kyle and for the full moon to rise and trigger the curse?

  Sitting the flashlight in her lap, she opened the hinge on the collar and slid it around her neck without clicking the lock in place. She hadn’t seen a key, so tethering herself to the wall didn’t seem like the greatest idea. The collar was big and hung over her collarbone colder and heavier than she expected. Still, she couldn’t pretend she didn’t feel the tiny trickle of pleasure at the sense of being so naughty and wanton. Chained like an animal, to restrain the wild thing she became whenever the two men who taught her the ways of lust put their hands on her.

  “You know, I had that same idea myself.”

  She jerked her head up to see Dillon standing just inside the tunnel, staring at her with an amused expression. A western-yoked tan shirt had been paired with today’s jeans, and his hat was in his hand. “What idea?” she asked.

  He walked toward her, his boot steps echoing in the cave. “To chain you up right there so you couldn’t run away from me again.”

  She shrugged and ran a finger along the rugged chain. “Instead, you decided to run away yourself. I suppose I deserved it.”

  He stopped and squatted down in front of her. “I didn’t run away.”