The Charmer in Chaps

by Julia London

  She had come.

  “Dude,” Brandon muttered behind him.

  Luca dragged his gaze from Ella to the crowd. He cleared his throat and suddenly, without reason, decided he was sick of being ashamed. It had something to do with Ella, and the vague idea that both of them were good at hiding from the truth. Luca smiled. “I’m going to have to ask you to bear with me,” he said, and a bit of laughter went up from the crowd. “I’ve got a few notes written down here, but to be honest, I’m not a good reader. As in, I couldn’t read at all until very recently.”

  People laughed.

  “It’s true—I’m dyslexic, and I’ve only just learned how to read.”

  He heard a murmur of surprise go through the crowd. He could see Karen standing below him, beaming with pride. She gave him two thumbs-up.

  “So here goes nothing,” he said with a grin, and it felt like something lifted off of him. The ten-year-old boy disappeared, and in his place stood the man. The crowd was silent now, and Luca glanced down at his note cards and, this time, saw words very clearly. He read, I’ve spent my whole life on this land. He looked up. “I’ve spent my whole life on this land.”

  He began to give his speech. He was reading his notes—truly reading them. Yes, he stumbled a time or two. Once, he heard Brandon whisper a correction behind him. But he read what he wanted to say, and Ella had come, and she’d seen it all. She’d seen him walk out from the shadow of his fear.

  Now it was her turn.

  When he was done, he turned the presentation over to Brandon and felt the tension rush from his body.

  He watched as they went through the shocking pictures of deterioration and depletion the university had shared with them. He listened as experts talked about what could be gained by conserving land, for ranchers and farmers alike. He admired the pictures from the North Texas ranch, where springs and natural wetlands had been restored, where ten-point bucks and their herds were roaming, where ducks had established new habitats.

  When the presentation was over, Luca returned to the microphone. He didn’t need notes for this part. He explained simply that his vision for the land his father had left him was simple—he would return it to the state in which God had given it to the world. “Brandon and I want the world to experience what we were so privileged to know growing up. There’s a lot of work to be done, and there is a lot about the earth to be learned. We have formed a foundation with some solid partnerships and hope you will join us.”

  The crowd applauded. Brandon was shaking hands with people who’d come up to their little stage, making jokes about what they were going to do with all the checks that rolled in tonight. Luca stepped off the stage and very nearly walked into his mother.

  She looked as elegant as ever, with her blond hair artfully arranged, her designer dress shimmering in the evening light. And her eyes were filled with tears. “Oh, Luca, I am so sorry,” she said, and cupped his face with her hands.

  “Why?”

  “I’m sorry that I haven’t told you enough how proud I am of you. I am so proud of you, Luca. What you did tonight—and I’m not just talking about admitting you can’t read—but what you’ve put together has filled me with so much damn pride I can hardly breathe.”

  “This is new,” he said. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “I can’t believe you taught yourself to read, Luca—”

  “No, Mom, I had a lot of help—”

  “I am . . . I am so flabbergasted and proud. I was wrong, Luca. I was so wrong and you were right.”

  Luca was stunned. He knew how much it had taken for his mother to make that apology. He suddenly laughed. “Call the presses—that’s quite an admission from Cordelia Prince,” he said, and hugged her. “Does this mean you’re going to donate to my foundation?”

  “Lord, no,” she said with a laugh. “Maybe,” she amended. “I want to hear more about how you learned to read. For now, you’d better meet your fans,” she said. “Who knew there were so many tree-huggers in this state?”

  “Thanks, Mom. It means a lot,” he said, and turned around to speak to people willing to help them fund the foundation. But he was looking for one person in particular.

  He had made it through a throng of well-wishers, had been hugged within an inch of his life by Karen, had slipped through a few people he didn’t know, and finally, when he was beginning to think he’d dreamed it, he saw the pink and red from the corner of his eye and turned his head.

  He immediately stopped walking. She was a princess in that dress, almost as if she’d stepped out of one of his dreams. Oh yes, he had dreamed about her, had mourned her, and here she was, standing before him, and his emotions were churning.

  Ella smiled self-consciously and clasped her hands together. “Are you going to say something?”

  He stepped closer, his gaze moving over her dress. “I’m a little speechless right now.”

  “I’m not. You were amazing, Luca,” she said quietly.

  “I thought you weren’t coming.”

  She stepped closer. “I know. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I ever said I wouldn’t come, because I am so thankful that I did. It was incredible. You sounded like a scholar. I am . . .” She pressed her palm to her chest. “I am so in awe of you right now. I’m in awe of your courage and your foresight, and . . . and everything about you.”

  “You look beautiful,” he said quietly. “So beautiful.” For some reason the admission made his heart feel heavy. He would like nothing better than to take her in his arms and celebrate this night, but after what had happened between them, he didn’t trust her. “So why the change of heart?” he asked simply.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “It’s always complicated with you, Ella. Are you finally going to let me in, or is this appearance something else?”

  She looked stung. She glanced around them, at all the people who were milling around. “Now?”

  Luca looked at all the people who would help him change the course of his life. But in a way, Ella already had, and he needed to understand what had happened. So he held out his hand to her. Ella hesitated. “Please don’t make me beg you again,” he murmured.

  She slipped her hand into his.

  He turned toward the house and began to walk briskly. She had to hurry to keep up but couldn’t help gawking at her surroundings, like everyone who came to Three Rivers. When they entered the house, she slowed her step and looked up at a painting. “Is that a Van Gogh?”

  “Cezanne.” He led her into his father’s study and shut the door behind them. He’d not been in here since his dad had died, and by the look of things, no one had. It looked exactly as it had that winter day his father had dropped on the golf course. It still smelled of his father’s cigars. He turned around to Ella and folded his arms across his chest. “Well?”

  Ella looked pained. “This is your night, Luca. You don’t want to hear—”

  “Ella. We’ve danced around this long enough. If you don’t want to tell me, then you probably need to go.”

  Her mouth gaped. Then closed. She nodded. “Okay. All right.” She walked to a chair and put her hands on the back of it, almost as if she needed to hold herself up. “You remember my friend Stacy? The one who stole the dress from Mariah?”

  He nodded.

  “She’s in trouble,” she said, and began to tell him about her life with Stacy. About her best friend, a shoplifter with a big talent who belonged in Nashville.

  “What has this got to do with us?” he asked impatiently.

  “I’m getting there,” she said. “I urged her to get a job to save money. She got one at the sheriff’s office. But he . . .” She winced. She swallowed. “He wouldn’t leave her alone.”

  Luca frowned. “Blake?”

  She nodded. “He wouldn’t keep his hands off her,” she said.

  That was no surprise. Blake cou
ldn’t keep his hands off any woman, was notorious for it. “Okay,” he said uncertainly.

  “But one night, he was upset that she kept saying no, so he, ah . . .” She pressed her fingertips to her cheeks. “He forced it.”

  Luca didn’t follow at first. “Forced what?”

  “Himself. On her.”

  He felt the blood drain from him. “Are you saying he raped her?” he asked, his voice rough.

  “Tried to. But Stacy fought him off. And she . . . she somehow got his gun away from him and pointed it at him. He told her she better shoot, because he was going to arrest her for theft and assaulting a police officer, and I don’t know what all. She escaped with his gun, and she’s been hiding at my house ever since.”

  Luca was stunned. Blake had always been a bastard, but this enraged him. And he was furious with Ella. “For God’s sake, Ella, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you go to the police?”

  “Because of who we are, Luca,” she said. “Who is going to believe Stacy over him? All it would take is one reporter looking into her past, and no one would believe her. They’d say she’s a criminal, trying to get out of trouble. Everyone knows she stole that dress from Mariah’s shop.”

  Luca thought of the many accusations of improper sexual behavior in the press lately. Ella was right—Stacy would be judged. “Couldn’t you have come to me? You could have let me help you instead of shutting me out.”

  “No, I couldn’t,” she said. “He said I would be arrested for aiding a fugitive.”

  “What?” he demanded.

  Ella told him that Blake had come to her house in search of Stacy and had threatened her, too. She told him that twice, as teens, Stacy had been caught shoplifting when they were together, and she’d been picked up, too, but released. Her name was on the old report, and Blake knew it.

  Luca’s blood was churning. He thought of that smug son-of-a-bitch and wanted to kill him with his bare hands.

  “I couldn’t have let you be associated with that,” she said. “I know how these things go, and people would talk about you and judge you, just when you were about to do something as amazing as you did tonight. It would have marred this. And I couldn’t let you turn in Stacy, because she is the only family I really have. I’m so mad at her, you have no idea. But at the same time, I want to protect her.”

  “Where is she?” he asked.

  “At my house. She’s trying to arrange for someone to pick her up so she can go to Nashville.” She paused and looked down. “She’s asked me to go with her.”

  Luca’s throat suddenly constricted. “Are you?”

  “I don’t want to,” she said. “But I’ve thought about it. I have a house falling down around me that I can’t afford. I can’t even keep Priscilla in kibble, and I pretty much blew it with you.”

  All of that was true, and he wanted to talk about this, but he had a fund-raiser going at full tilt outside. “Ella—don’t go,” he said. “At least not yet.”

  “I don’t think you understand,” she said softly. “I can’t see you around Three Rivers and know I lost you, too. I can’t bear it. My heart can’t take it. This nightmare with Stacy is just one of many unpleasant things that could happen. What if my mother is ever released from prison? What if I can’t afford to keep my house? There are so many ifs we haven’t even thought about, Luca. Things you need to think about. I mean, do you really want to keep doing this?” she asked, gesturing between the two of them.

  “If you are asking if I really want to spend my life trying to convince you that I am here for you, the answer is no. Or spend my life wondering if you’ll suddenly decide you need another wall between us? Hell, no,” he said, his hands finding his waist. “But do I want to see where this thing between us will go without the complication of Stacy? Or Blake? Absolutely.”

  He stepped forward and reached for her elbow, drawing her in. “We have something great, Ella. And I won’t lie; I don’t trust you. Nevertheless, all your what-ifs don’t scare me. What scares me is wondering if you will ever be able to see past them.”

  Ella’s lashes fluttered as if he’d shouted at her. She glanced down and bit her bottom lip.

  He had no desire to hurt her and drew her close. “Don’t decide anything tonight,” he said. “Promise me you won’t go to Nashville. Not yet.”

  She nodded.

  Luca lowered his head and kissed her and immediately felt himself fall into that space where only the two of them existed. He kissed her deeply, to make up for the days they’d lost, to say good-bye, if that’s what this was.

  He didn’t know what it was, honestly. He had to figure out a few things first. But he desperately wanted to figure them out, because he didn’t think he could survive if he lost her.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  The man who had picked up Ella in Hallie’s Range Rover—he said his name was Rafe—was waiting for her like a pumpkin right on schedule at eleven o’clock. She caught Luca’s eye and waved, rather than draw him away from people who were interested in his foundation.

  After their conversation in the study, Luca had introduced her to his brother Nick and his grandmother. She’d dined on fancy canapés and drank good wine instead of the cheap kind she usually bought. She’d talked to people without knowing who they were and discovered at one point in the evening she’d been talking to a senator.

  She drifted home on a cloud.

  Stacy was waiting up for her. She bolted upright when Ella came in. “Tell me everything,” she demanded.

  So Ella told Stacy about the house with the hickory wood floors and marble entry. She told her about the massive two-story entrance and the dual staircases that went up into the clouds above. “They even have a Cezanne,” she said.

  “What’s a Cezanne?” Stacy asked.

  She told Stacy about the pool and how it looked as if it was spilling into the fields beyond, and the magnolia trees that had been brought in and festooned with pink blooms, and the bars and the champagne fountains. “I met a senator. And a local news anchor,” she said.

  “Yes, but did you meet his family?” she asked.

  “His brother and grandmother.” She thought about it a moment. “I never did see his mother.”

  “So? What did Luca say when he saw you?”

  Ella remembered how stunned he’d looked. How she’d seen a thousand emotions sail across his eyes. Irritation. Relief. Confusion. Lust. And love. He hadn’t said it, but she knew what she’d seen, and she’d seen love in his eyes. “He wanted to know what I was doing there, of course. So we talked a little.” Ella did not tell Stacy she’d told him the truth. She didn’t want Stacy in a panic.

  “So, what does it mean?” Stacy asked, bouncing a little in her seat. “Are you back together?”

  “No,” Ella said uncertainly. “I’m not sure where we are. He asked me to give him a couple of weeks before I decided about Nashville. But he also told me he doesn’t trust me.”

  “Why?” Stacy asked, her brows furrowing.

  “Because I can’t get out of my own way, Stacy. I am so sure I know what will happen that I go ahead and make sure it does, you know? I should have told him the truth.”

  “No. You were right not to tell him the truth. He doesn’t know what it’s like on this side of the tracks.”

  Ella didn’t want to debate with her. She understood what Luca meant, and it had made her think. She glanced down at her dress. “I will never have a dress this beautiful again,” she said sadly.

  “Well, at least you got to wear it once,” Stacy said, and smiled.

  So did Ella.

  “I’m so sorry, El,” Stacy suddenly blurted. “For everything.”

  “You don’t have to say it,” Ella said.

  “I do. I always do this to you. I always dump everything in your lap.”

  “That is so true,” Ella said with a sad la
ugh. “But it’s okay. That’s what family is for, right?”

  Stacy sniffed. “How would we know? I feel awful for the position I’ve put you in.” She glanced down at her hand. “They left for Nashville without me.”

  “What?” Ella said, sinking onto the couch next to Stacy.

  She nodded, and tears began to slip from her eyes. “Wells—he’s the guitarist—he said I’m in trouble and they don’t want to get caught up in it. He said that if I can get out there by the end of June, everything is cool, but if not . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “If not?” Ella asked.

  “They will find another singer,” Stacy said tearfully. “I put that fucking band together, and now they’re going to dump me.” Her tears were flowing freely now.

  Ella wrapped her arms around Stacy. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “No we won’t,” Stacy said on a strangled sob, and doubled over. “I always do this! I sabotage myself! Why did I have to take his gun? He would have forgotten all about me!”

  Ella didn’t offer her the usual empty platitudes. They’d both heard them enough times, and Stacy knew the truth. What she needed was a shoulder.

  “I don’t know why I do it,” she said through her sobs. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Nothing is wrong with you, Stacy. You’re just finding your way, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, and what are you doing?” Stacy asked. “Building walls?”

  “Border walls,” Ella reminded her. “Thirty feet high.”

  In spite of her sorrow, Stacy couldn’t help but laugh.

  Ella changed out of her dress and found some tequila Mateo had once left behind. She and Stacy and Buddy sat on the floor, Stacy and Ella with glasses of tequila, Buddy snoring. Stacy told her the cold-water handle had come off in the bathroom sink.

  Ella groaned and fell on her back.