Honky Tonk Hearts Volume 2

by The Wild Rose Press Authors

  “Jesus.”

  “Harry was next. He was older, more settled, an all around great guy. And he had money—hence the riding lessons and tuition to Brown.”

  Chase dismounted and led the mare past a thicket of chokecherries to the creek. He dropped the reins to let the horse drink and watched Honor across her broad back. Twirling the borrowed hat in her hands, she slid off her horse and pushed a loose strand of hair away from her face.

  “What happened?”

  “My mom and her self-destructive personality happened. Sometimes I wonder if she’s even capable of being happy.” She sat on a flat rock near the edge of the creek and tossed pebbles into the water. “She started fooling around with a good-looking ass with a smooth line. He became number four two weeks after the divorce from Harry was final.”

  He dropped down beside her and touched her hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it, feeling the tiny tremors that shook her. “When did this happen?”

  “My junior year in college. Harry paid for my last year of tuition anyway, which is a testament to the kind of man he is. We still exchange Christmas cards and the occasional phone call.”

  “So, did number four last?”

  “Nope. He dropped dead from a heart attack two years later. Mom’s in Florida with number five, but if her frazzled state at Grandpa’s funeral is any indication, their relationship is in trouble.”

  He scowled and kicked at a clump of dead grass. “She left you alone to deal with your grandfather’s illness?”

  “He was my dad’s father. I escaped to Atlanta to spend time with him on a regular basis when Mom and number two were at their worst. Without his placid outlook and easygoing demeanor, I would have ended up on a therapist’s couch babbling like a loon.” She cocked her head and smiled. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

  Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he gave them a hard squeeze before releasing her. “I don’t think I like your mother very much.”

  “Mom can’t help the way she is. At least she was smart enough to know she wasn’t going to win any mother of the year awards and quit reproducing after me.”

  He picked up a rock and chucked it into the stream, sending ripples arcing toward the far bank. “We have a lot in common, you and I.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “My mother was an artist. She spent hours in her studio creating beautiful sculptures out of ugly lumps of clay. When I came along, it cramped her style. Molding kids wasn’t her thing.” Picking up her hand, he twined his fingers through hers. “Pop made excuses for her and tried to pick up the slack.”

  She stared up at him, her eyes wide. “Jenna—”

  “Was an accident. I’m sure doctors would call Mother’s downward spiral after my sister’s birth postpartum depression or some other bull.” His voice hardened. “Either way, she took off with a truck driver a few weeks later and died in a pile up on the freeway not long afterward.”

  “God, how awful.”

  “Pop never got over it. Plenty of women have offered to ease his loneliness, but he’s turned down every one of them. Whether it’s because he lost faith in all women or is still in love with my mother is something he keeps to himself.”

  She leaned against his shoulder. “That’s sad. There’s no other word to describe it.”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes I think letting a woman turn you inside out is just plain pathetic.” He touched a silky strand of her hair, winding it around his finger. The lock tightened of its own accord, and he jerked his hand back. “Don’t get me wrong; I love women, but I’ll never let one destroy me the way Pop did.”

  “Maybe the right one wouldn’t.” Her words, softly spoken, hung between them.

  He stiffened. “I’d rather not take that chance.”

  Pulling away, she stood and fisted her hands on her hips. “No wonder Missy is pissed at you.”

  “Hey, I never promised her anything other than a good time.”

  Honor glared. “Is that all you want from me, a good time?”

  He stepped up next to her, crowding her back against Tuck’s warm, quivering side. “What’s wrong with that? You said you need time to figure out your future. Why not spend it with me while you’re working on a plan?”

  She blew out a breath. “You don’t think I’ll fall head over heels for you and get my heart broken?”

  Pressing closer, he touched her soft cheek, then ran his finger along the angle of her jaw. The fruity scent of her shampoo invaded his senses. His head spun. “You’re too smart for that.”

  She slapped his finger away. “You bet I am.” Edging between Chase and the horse, she stepped around him. “I thought we were going for a ride.”

  He eyed her stubborn expression, and his gut clenched. Apparently she hadn’t appreciated his honesty as much as he’d hoped.

  They trotted across the dry prairie, watching the shadows lengthen. He didn’t say much, pointing out a long eared rabbit hiding in the grass and a crumbling pillar of stone near the blackened husk of a cottonwood tree.

  “What’s that stack of rocks?” she asked.

  “All that’s left of a chimney. Years ago it was a homesteader’s cabin. Lightning hit the tree and burned the cabin to the ground.”

  She squinted into the setting sun. “If he’d made better choices, maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything.”

  The finality in her tone shook him. He was pretty certain she wasn’t talking about the luckless homesteader.

  Dusk settled as they stretched low over their mounts and galloped toward the ranch, not slowing until they reached the barnyard. Dismounting, he took her reins and led the sweating horses into the barn, removed their saddles, and tossed blankets over them. A proper rubdown would have to wait. After hearing his personal philosophy toward women, he wouldn’t be surprised if Honor used the opportunity to escape. Nor would he blame her.

  Hurrying past the row of stalls, he drew in a sharp breath as he stepped outside. Leaning against the corral fence with her head tilted up to the sky, Honor watched the moon rise above the horizon. The silvery orb shed its radiance in a glimmering path, casting an almost ethereal glow over her features. Her eyes shimmered, pools of emotion that tugged at his heart.

  A deep throated bark broke the spell. Barreling across the yard, Bo let loose a series of howls that sent a shiver through him.

  “Jesus, Bo! Stop that racket.” Turning back to face Honor, he froze when he saw the bull in the pasture. With a clear look of intent in his beady, black eyes, Muffin thundered toward her.

  “Honey, watch out!” Legs cramping and heart pounding, he sprinted full out. Her eyes widened in confusion and fright. Snagging her arm, he jerked her forward just as the bull hit the fence with a jarring thud that shook the ground.

  Trembling, she sagged against him. “Oh. My. God. That animal tried to kill me!”

  Muffin shook his head and yanked one wickedly curved horn out of the top rail. Staggering back, he snorted, and Honor burrowed her face against Chase’s chest. The surge of adrenalin dissipated, leaving him shaken.

  He stroked her back, rubbing his hand up and down the ridges of her spine, and tried to inject a little humor into his tone. “I doubt it’s personal. Probably your red T-shirt got his dander up.”

  Her voice quavered. “Should I take it off?”

  “I’m pretty certain I would appreciate the sacrifice more than Muffin.”

  She tilted her head and looked up at him. “Are you laughing at me?”

  A grin stretched slowly across his face. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “That beast scared the daylights out of me. It isn’t funny!”

  He tightened his hold. “No, it’s not. I was so frightened, I may need to change my drawers.”

  Finally a little of her color returned, and her lips curved in a smile. “Are you ever serious?”

  “I am about this.”

  He lowered his head and felt her indrawn breath a heartbeat before his lips cov
ered hers. Their softness tantalized and inflamed, sending a rush of blood south, taking his common sense with it. He cupped the back of her head and applied himself to the task at hand, teasing her with teeth and tongue until she opened her mouth to him. He groaned as the taste and scent of her overwhelmed him. Need crashed down with debilitating force.

  Honor wrenched her mouth away and stared, her pupils so dilated the blue irises showed only thin rings.

  “We can’t do this.”

  Stroking a wayward strand of hair off her cheek, his hand trembled. Chase took a deep breath and tried to retrieve a modicum of control. “You want to; admit it.”

  “Wanting isn’t the issue.” Leaning her forehead against his chest, she let out a sigh. “I may not be as tough as I act.”

  His heart squeezed. “You’re soft as thistledown. I don’t want to hurt you, Honey, not ever.”

  “Then don’t push this.”

  “But—”

  She pulled away. “There is no but. Find someone else to entertain you, someone who hasn’t had her heart stomped on one too many times.”

  He stared down, confusion welling inside him. “I don’t want someone else. I only want you.” The unexpected truth behind the words rocked him back on his heels.

  “I’m sure that’ll change the next time a pretty girl crosses your path.” Turning, she walked away.

  Chase let her go, disquiet churning in his gut. He had an uneasy feeling forgetting Honey wasn’t going to be easy.

  ****

  Honor yawned, so huge her jaw cracked as the pastry dough on the counter blurred in front of her. “This is the last batch tonight. I’ve got to get some sleep.”

  Andee looked up from tickling her son’s belly. Dark crescents shadowed her hazel eyes. She looked as tired as Honor felt. The baby gurgled and smacked his lips.

  “I can’t believe he’s hungry again. Maybe if I feed him, he’ll finally fall asleep.”

  Hands flying over the pastry with a biscuit cutter, she dropped each thin circle into a mini muffin cup and crimped the edges. Reaching for the bowl of egg mixture, Honor smiled as her friend settled into a chair to nurse. “He has his days and nights all mixed up.”

  “Tell me about it. I feel like a walking zombie.”

  Filling the last of the miniature quiche cups, she slid the pan into the oven and set the timer. “Is Davis helping?”

  “He tries, but he’s worthless in the nursing department.”

  Honor grinned. “That would be a problem.” Leaning back against the counter, she crossed her arms. “What possessed you to come down here at—” she glanced at her watch “—midnight? Good God, I can’t believe it’s so late.”

  “Looks like you’ve made terrific progress with the wedding food.”

  The counters were littered with tiny pastries. Seeing the results of her labor was almost rewarding enough to override her exhaustion. “Maybe I’ve made enough. I’ll bag these when they finish cooling and add them to the supply in the freezer. Now about your nocturnal adventures...”

  Andee bit her lip. “I hate to keep Davis awake. I can nap when Jackson does, but he has to work tomorrow. So I took my little night owl for a drive and saw the lights burning in the café.”

  Brushing at the flour coating the front of her jeans, she looked up and met Andee’s gaze. “Are you sure you don’t mind me using the café to do prep work for Jenna’s wedding?”

  “Of course I don’t mind. Why would I?”

  “I’m running up your gas and electric bills.”

  She flipped her hand in the air. “You get a few more of these jobs, and we’ll talk reimbursement.”

  Honor snorted. “This reception is a one time deal.”

  Her friend gave her a long, considering look. “It doesn’t have to be. I bet if you spread the word, you’d have plenty of clients.”

  Her hand stilled against the denim of her jeans, and her breath caught in her chest. “But I’m not staying in Redemption.”

  “I wish you’d reconsider. Where, exactly, are you going once I’m back to work fulltime?”

  Honor’s brows drew together, and her lips tightened. “I was thinking about California.”

  “Why, Honey? Why do you have to leave? What’s waiting for you on the west coast?”

  Hollowness filled her until she ached with it. “Sand and sun?”

  “We have sun, and plenty of it. Sand just gets in places you’d rather not have it.”

  She rubbed the back of her neck, kneading the tight knots. “What would I do here? Redemption isn’t exactly overloaded with jobs for medieval studies majors with experience caring for elderly dementia patients and a talent for baking quiche.”

  “I could use more help in the café.” Andee stroked Jackson’s fuzzy head. “Until this guy was born, it had been weeks since I took a day off. I can’t remember the last time I actually had a vacation. My workaholic schedule gives Davis fits.”

  “I can imagine. Maybe I’ll stick around for another month or two, give you a chance to take a real break.”

  “Two months will pass in a blink.” She switched the baby to her other breast before continuing, “I’m talking long term. Think about the catering. You always liked to cook, and it would be an opportunity to start something new and different, just like you wanted.”

  The timer dinged, and she pulled the pans of quiche from the oven. “Let’s see how this wedding goes first.”

  “It’ll come off without a hitch.” Andee’s voice rang with confidence. “You’ve never failed at anything in your life.”

  Honor let out a long sigh, feeling her gut tighten. “Except relationships.”

  ****

  Chase paused outside the doorway of Wilson Brothers Feed Store and frowned. A short, dark-haired boy peered around the corner of the building, looking both ways before darting down the same sidewalk. Reaching out one long arm, he snagged the back of Joey Cahill’s T-shirt and swung him around.

  “Shouldn’t you still be in school? I’m nearly certain it hasn’t let out for the day.”

  Joey slumped. “Busted!” Staring up at Chase through narrowed eyes, he asked, “You gonna haul me in?”

  “I’m not your keeper.” He let go of the T-shirt and swung his arm around the boy’s bony shoulders. “Let’s go have a soda, and you can tell me why you’re skipping school. Again.”

  He heaved a sigh. “School sucks. Anyway I have a math test right now that I sort of forgot to study for. If I get another F, Ma will get all weepy, and Missy will chew me out. I don’t know which is worse.”

  “You’re bright enough. Why didn’t you study?” Chase led him down the sidewalk and pushed open the door to the café. He cast a quick look around. Honor was nowhere in sight.

  “Who cares about adding fractions? Not me.”

  “Well, you should care.”

  His pulse quickened as Honor pushed through the kitchen door, her arms loaded with dishes. He knew the exact moment she saw him, recognized the change in her posture, the stiffening of her spine. Taking her time, she delivered the lunch plates to a booth full of tourists before heading his way.

  “Afternoon, Chase.” She gave him a wary look and smiled at the boy. “What can I get you?”

  “Two colas. Honey, this is Joey Cahill. I believe you met his sister, Missy.”

  Her smile tightened, but her tone was warm when she spoke. “Nice to meet you, Joey. I’ll be right back with those drinks.”

  Encased in white shorts that displayed her legs to perfection, her hips swayed with natural grace as she hurried around the end of the counter. Reaching up to take two glasses from the top shelf, her pink T-shirt stretched across her breasts. Chase swallowed.

  A sharp jab in the arm distracted him. Joey poked him again and scowled, dark brows lowering over eyes the color of spring mud.

  “I asked you a question,” the boy grumbled.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “You were paying attention, just not to me. How
come you never come around anymore?”

  Guilt cinched his chest. “I’ve been busy, but that’s no excuse. When your sister and I broke up, I said we’d still do things together, and I meant it. Maybe you can come out to the ranch and help with the new colts I’m training.” He frowned at the mutinous look in the muddy brown eyes. “On the weekend when you don’t have school.”

  The boy pointed one grubby finger toward Honor, who paused at an occupied table, then continued in their direction. “Is she the reason you broke up with Missy?”

  “Your sister and I split long before Honey showed up in Redemption.” He stilled Joey’s response with a sharp look when Honor reached their table and handed them the sodas.

  She raised a brow. “Anything else?”

  “Nothing on the menu.”

  With an eye roll, she headed for the kitchen.

  Chase slumped back in his seat, and with an effort, focused on Joey. The boy was a handful, and without a father to lay down the law... “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to school for the rest of the afternoon?”

  He drew steadily on the cola through a red straw but didn’t look up. “Positive.”

  “I hear Missy’s dating Brady Wilson. He’s a good guy. Should be able to teach you a thing or two about football.”

  Joey hunched one shoulder. “He’s okay. Kind of boring, but nice enough, I guess.”

  Letting out a long sigh, he took a swig from his own glass without bothering with the straw. “Come out to the ranch on Saturday, and we’ll work with the horses.”

  “Isn’t Jenna getting married this Saturday?”

  “Shi—oot. How could I forget when she’s making me cut every blade of grass within a hundred yards of the house down to a nub?” He snorted. “I guess neither of us will be riding those colts this weekend. I’ll see you at the wedding instead.”

  “Yep.” He slurped the last of his drink. “I should probably go home so Ma doesn’t worry about me if the school calls.”

  “And I have chicken feed to pick up next door and a dozen chores waiting at the ranch.” He pulled out his wallet, dropped a five dollar bill on the table, and cast a final glance toward the kitchen door.