The Rebel and the Cowboy (The Carmody Brothers Book 2)

by Sarah Mayberry

  Turned out she’d been wrong, because she couldn’t seem to stop shaking.

  “Knock knock, just me,” a voice said from the open doorway and Eva turned to see Sierra standing there, her face creased with concern.

  “You okay?” Casey’s sister asked, and Eva tried to smile.

  “I’ve had better days.”

  “He’ll come round. He just took off on Meteor. Give him some time to blow off some steam and he’ll be back, ready to grovel for being an asshole.”

  “He had every right to be angry. He was right, I had no business interfering.”

  “Of course it was your business. You care for him and he was about to do a really stupid thing,” Sierra said.

  “He told me directly that he didn’t want to burden you guys with this. And I took that decision away from him.”

  “Good. I refuse to let you feel bad about this, Eva. You did the right thing.”

  Eva shrugged a shoulder, unconvinced but unwilling to argue the point.

  “Why don’t you come up to the house and hang with me and CJ?” Sierra suggested.

  “Thanks, but I don’t really feel like company.”

  “Well, I’m happy to hang out here. We can drink beer and talk about the lack of eligible men in town for me to jump on.”

  Eva smiled, mostly because she knew she was supposed to.

  “I think I’m just going to finish tidying up the trailer. It’s my thing when I’m stressed—I clean. For some reason it helps.”

  “Well, in that case, feel free to come up to the house when you are done because we have some closets that seriously need sorting.”

  Sierra stepped forward and gave Eva a fierce hug.

  “Please don’t regret what you did. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I knew that Casey had sacrificed so much for us. You did the right thing.”

  Eva took comfort from the other woman’s embrace and had to blink away tears as they disengaged.

  “Come up to the house the moment you get sick of organizing your underwear by color, okay?”

  “Will do. And thanks for worrying about me.”

  “You and CJ are my girls.”

  Once Eva was alone she let out a sigh and rubbed her face with her hands.

  She felt a little better, which had been Sierra’s goal. Bless her.

  She went back to tidying, rolling computer cables, folding her clothes, and organizing her meager stock of groceries. Then she scrubbed the bathroom and wiped down all the surfaces in the kitchen.

  Casey had been gone for a couple of hours by then, and she’d run out of things to tidy. She glanced in the direction of the house, but she really didn’t feel like company. Instead, she took a beer from the fridge and sat on the top step to wait, sure that he would come to her once his temper had cooled, as Sierra had predicted.

  She drank the beer and went over and over their fight in her mind, wishing she’d handled it differently, regretting not telling Casey what she’d done so he didn’t feel ambushed by his siblings. Every time she recalled his final words, she felt the burn of tears but she refused to give in to them.

  She was starting to get stiff from sitting, and she stood and rubbed her arms. It was heading toward twilight, and she went into the trailer and pulled on a hoodie. Then she checked the time.

  It had been three hours since Casey left on his ride. He must have returned by now. She turned toward the door, then turned back, uncertain. Then she made a frustrated noise at her own indecision and bounded down the steps in a burst of energy. She made her way around the side of the barn to discover the big double doors still open to the yard. She went inside and saw immediately that Meteor was in his stall.

  She walked slowly back out into the yard. Casey was back, and he hadn’t come to see her. So much for him blowing off steam and coming to grovel.

  She was eyeing the house, trying to decide what her next move should be, when the front door opened and Casey stepped out. He paused when he saw her, then shifted his focus to his truck as he descended the porch steps. She started forward, expecting him to meet her halfway, but he walked past her to his truck, opening the door to collect some paperwork from the passenger seat.

  Eva raised her eyebrows, shaken all over again by his coldness.

  She swallowed nervously as he shut the truck door and turned toward the house.

  “So, that’s it? We’re not going to even talk about this?” she asked.

  He glanced at her and she could see he was still very angry with her—so angry—and it made something deep inside her curl up in a ball.

  “That’s not a good idea right now,” he said, his tone tight and clipped.

  She nodded, taking a step backward to signal she wasn’t going to push the issue. He walked away, tension in every line of his body. She stood watching until he shut the door behind him, then she stood a little longer, her hands pressed against the sides of her legs as though she needed to take strength from the solidity of her own body.

  She hadn’t expected instant forgiveness, but she had expected him to at least be willing to talk to her, to look at her. His coldness felt like a cosmic slap, and it took her a moment to work out why—Dane had been like that often after their fights, hanging on to his anger and punishing her with coldness and distance.

  Sometimes it had taken a day or two before he treated her like a person he actually liked again. At first she’d done everything she could to appease him, but toward the end of their relationship she’d simply endured, retreating into herself, the two of them orbiting around each other like satellites in the house they’d shared.

  I can’t do this again.

  It was a stupid thought, irrational in the extreme, because Casey wasn’t Dane. Not in any way, shape or form.

  And yet this feeling was so familiar, probably because it had been just months since she packed her bags and escaped from her ex’s cold anger.

  This is why smart people don’t jump straight from one relationship to another.

  A shiver ran down her spine and she hugged herself against the cool of the growing twilight. Then she realized she’d been standing like a sentinel in the yard for too long, and she made her way back to the trailer. She looked around at the newly neatened space and admitted to herself she was not going to be able to spend the night here.

  It was too close to Casey, and she knew she’d spend half the night lying awake, willing him to come to her to make things right and resisting the urge to go to him to try to do the same.

  Been there, done that with her ex, and she wasn’t up for a replay of more of the same. She was opting out, breaking the cycle.

  She flipped up the lid on her laptop and did a quick search. Multiple options for flights home to LA appeared in her browser window, all of them departing from Bozeman or Billings the following morning. She could easily drive to Bozeman tonight, find a cheap motel room, and fly home for a few days with her sister. She could afford it now she had the commission, and she’d more than earned a couple of days off. Syd would offer her good food and advice, and Eva could get her head straight before she came back.

  And if Casey wasn’t ready to talk to her then…well, then she had an answer to the question she was too scared to face right now.

  *

  Casey was sitting on the end of his bed picking quietly at his guitar when Sierra tapped on the open door.

  He glanced up at her, but didn’t say a word. If she was here to harangue him some more, he wasn’t up for it.

  “We’ve been talking. We think we’ve sorted out a way to make this work. It will mean CJ and Jesse do some extra miles to come home more often between rodeos, but it’s doable,” Sierra said.

  “How does the two of them pitching in between rodeos replace my full-time hours?”

  “For starters, there are two of them and one of you. You might be awesome, but you’re not that good. As long as we juggle things around and schedule labor-heavy jobs for when they are here, there’s no reason why we can’t hold the
fort here for a few weeks.”

  “And what happens if they want us to go on tour? I could be gone for half a year or more.”

  “Well, let’s hope we have that problem, because I assume they’ll be paying you and you can tip some money into the pot to help top up your wages to commercial rates so we can replace you properly. Cara’s younger brother is going to be looking for work once he finishes school. He might be a possibility.”

  Casey shook his head.

  “Why are you so resistant to this?” Sierra asked, coming over and sitting next to him on the bed.

  Since he’d been hoping to end their conversation sooner rather than later, he frowned at her.

  “Because this place needs all hands on deck right now or we might lose it. I’m not taking any chances with Mom and Dad’s legacy.”

  “So, what, you just hunker down here with your nose to the grindstone and think about what could have been for the rest of your life, resenting the rest of us and this place because you gave up what you really wanted?”

  “It wouldn’t be like that,” he said stubbornly.

  “Tell that to Jed.”

  Casey stared at his sister, and she raised her eyebrows, daring him to disagree with her.

  But he couldn’t do it, because it was true. Jed had sacrificed his dreams when their parents died. He’d walked away from his education and lost the love of his life to ensure their family stayed together and to safeguard their parents’ legacy.

  He’d never thrown it in anyone’s face, but they all knew this was not the life Jed would have chosen for himself—if he had a choice. But he hadn’t.

  And Casey did.

  His sister had just offered it to him—his family were willing to find work-arounds to set him free. They wanted him to go to Nashville with The Whiskey Shots to see how far his music could take him. They wanted him to fly high.

  He looked away from his sister’s searching gaze, unable to hold her eye any longer.

  “Talk to me,” she said gently, and he could hear the love and understanding in her voice.

  He rubbed the flat of his hand along the guitar strings, feeling the metallic rasp against his palm. Why was it so hard to speak the truth?

  “I never let myself think I could have it,” he admitted. “I never let my imagination get that far.”

  He felt a little dizzy saying it out loud, as though he was letting go of the safety rail and edging closer to the precipice.

  “You know, one of my teachers said something to me not long after Mom and Dad died,” Sierra said. “She told me that losing your parents young teaches you that life is cruel and unfair. Maybe we all learned that lesson a little too well, because we Carmodys seem to really suck at going after the things we want in life. The things that make us happy.”

  He thought about it for a moment and realized there was a lot of truth in his sister’s words. No matter what happened in his life, there was always a little voice in the back of his head telling him to play it cool and not get too excited. Almost as though he was afraid to want things in case he didn’t get them.

  The one big exception to that was Eva. He’d wanted her, and he’d reached for her with both hands.

  He slanted a look at his sister. “You really think we can make it work?”

  “By hook or by crook. With CJ and my smarts, we can work it out.”

  “You are such a smartass.”

  “Like I said—smart.”

  He glanced down at his guitar again and for the first time since Jimmy Borman had made his offer, he allowed himself to imagine what it might be like to accept it. To go to Nashville with his songs and play for people who had the power to launch The Whiskey Shots out into the world.

  His heart shifted in his chest, and his stomach dipped as an electric thrill ran up the back of his neck.

  It would be wild, to be able to do that. It would be incredible.

  It was such new territory for him, he felt dizzy again. But maybe that was okay. Maybe that was what letting go of the safety rail was all about.

  Hard on the heels of the thought came another:

  “I need to talk to Eva,” he said, surging to his feet.

  “Big time,” Sierra agreed.

  Passing her his guitar, he strode out of the room.

  CJ, Jed, and Jesse were talking quietly in the living room when he entered. Their conversation stopped abruptly as he headed for the front door with purpose. He took the front steps two at a time, his stride long as he took the path beside the barn to the trailer.

  With every step he could feel his brain clearing, his chest loosening. He owed Eva an apology. Yes, she’d taken matters into her own hands, but he’d crashed down on her so hard. Too hard. He’d projected all his frustration and resentment onto her, making her the repository of all his unhappiness.

  She hadn’t created his circumstances. She hadn’t killed his parents or fucked up the ranch’s finances. She’d simply tried to find a way to allow him to play his music.

  And he’d punished her for it like an asshole.

  The lights were out in the trailer. The thought of her lying in the dark, miserable and alone made him want to punch himself in the face. He tapped on the door, calling out to let her know it was him.

  “It’s me. Can I come in?”

  It felt important to ask tonight, even though they’d sped past door knocks and permissions weeks ago.

  Silence greeted him, and Casey frowned. Some instinct made him push the door open and he sensed the trailer was vacant before he flicked on the light.

  The bed was empty, and the doorway to the bathroom was open. She was gone. He stared at the stack of her research books and the neat bedding and registered that something was missing: her suitcase.

  Spinning on his heel, he leapt down the steps in a single bound and broke into a run, only stopping when he reached the yard.

  Sure enough, Big Bertha was gone, the place the van had occupied achingly empty. He’d been so preoccupied when he passed through a minute ago that he hadn’t registered its absence.

  Light spilled into the night as the front door open and Sierra emerged, phone in hand.

  “Casey—she’s heading home to LA. I just saw my phone. I’m so sorry—she texted an hour ago to let me know she’s going to Bozeman for the night so she can fly out first thing tomorrow.”

  For a moment he didn’t know what to do or think. He’d monstered the woman he loved so thoroughly she was leaving town. The thought ricocheted around his mind, rooting his feet to the ground.

  Then his brain came back online.

  “Text and ask where she’s staying,” he said.

  “I already tried. She hasn’t replied,” Sierra said.

  CJ, Jesse, and Jed were ranged behind her in the doorway, silhouetted by the living room light.

  “How many motels are there in Bozeman?” Casey asked Jesse.

  Jesse spent his life on the road, if anyone had off-the-cuff knowledge, it was him.

  “I don’t know. Five, maybe six,” his brother answered.

  Casey charged up the steps and his family parted to allow him to dart back into the house. He scooped up his truck keys and his own phone, then rocketed out the door again.

  “What are you going to do, try all of them?” Jed asked.

  “If I have to.” He caught Sierra’s eye. “Text me if you hear from her, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “Drive safely, Casey,” CJ called as he slid into the pickup.

  He lifted a hand in acknowledgment and started the engine with an impatient rev. The moment he was rolling down the driveway, he hit the button on his hands-free to call Eva.

  The phone rang and rang before finally cutting across to voicemail. He’d been so fixated on wanting her to pick up, he didn’t know what to say.

  “It’s Casey. Call me when you get this, okay? I’m really—”

  A beep sounded to let him know he was out of time and the phone cut to the dial tone. He swore and thumpe
d his fist against the steering wheel. He started to call her again, then realized he didn’t want to apologize over voicemail.

  The conversation they needed to have was not going to be conducted via recording.

  The decision helped settle him, and he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel as he approached the grain elevator on the way into town. It would take him an hour to get to Bozeman, and maybe another to check all the motels. He’d find her. He had to.

  The moon was on its way to full, and the white background Eva had sprayed on the wall of the elevator glowed an eerie pearl white against the dark night sky as he approached. He was so busy noticing she’d finished blocking in the outline of her three portraits that he almost didn’t register the battered black van parked at the base of the building.

  Then he did, and relief and gratitude slammed through him.

  Braking hard, he pulled into the gravel lot and cut the engine.

  He saw the pale blur of Eva’s face as she turned to see who it was. She was standing at the foot of the elevator, arms crossed tightly over her body.

  He walked toward her, hating how wary she looked.

  He’d done that to her, and it freaking killed him to have her look at him with uncertainty in her eyes.

  He stopped in front of her, close but not too close, fighting the urge to simply pull her into his arms.

  “Sierra said you were headed for Bozeman. And flying home to LA tomorrow,” he said.

  “I was. But I changed my mind.”

  “I was about to chase you up there,” he confessed.

  “Good. I stayed because I realized that I’m not a runner. I’m a fighter. And you and I are worth fighting for, Casey Carmody.”

  He took an involuntary step closer, unable to stay away.

  “I’m sorry. I overreacted,” he said. “I Hulked out on you because I wasn’t being honest with myself and I was too scared of wanting something I couldn’t have. I was an asshole, and you deserve better, and I’d really, really like the chance to make it up to you.”

  Her face was intent, her gaze scanning his face as she absorbed his words.