“I don’t sulk. I-I brood a little, that’s all.”
“What, like a chicken? A broody hen?” She laughed. “That means you want to have babies, right?” She slid her gaze toward him, and suddenly his breath was stolen by a whiff of the perfume that curled through the truck cab like a twining vine on a current of steamy summer air. He wanted to make babies, that was for sure.
He opened his mouth but nothing came out. When he tried again, he realized he was sitting in the passenger seat gasping like a fish. He needed to change the subject. Fast.
Fortunately, Lacey did it for him. “Never mind. I wish I could buy a big ol’ truck like this, though. I thought driving a muscle car would make me feel tough, but I don’t know.”
“You’re not tough?”
“Oh, I’m tough.” She smiled that secret smile again. “But I’m not sure it was the car. I think I’m just toughening up from being on my own. I’m so used to people looking after me—Daddy, and then Trent. Now I don’t have anyone to rely on but myself.” Her head toss was casual, but her knuckles whitened on the wheel. “I’m never letting a man tell me what to do again.”
He gave her a sharp glance. Never? Did she really mean that?
One way to find out.
“Go ahead and put it in reverse.”
She took her hands off the steering wheel and crossed her arms over her chest, flashing him a hard look.
Yup. She meant it.
“Uh, whenever you’re ready,” he said.
She considered him a moment longer before turning her attention back to the truck and shoving the gear shift over and back. She turned her head and backed out of the space at warp speed, missing the rear fender of the truck to their right by fractions of an inch. He tried not to react. He’d been on test drives with worse drivers.
Maybe.
Pushing the shifter into first, she popped the clutch and launched them toward the lot’s exit. Chase tried not to crush the door handle in his panicked grip as she rounded the curb and hit the empty expanse of Main Street, the engine growling into a powerful crescendo.
“Sorry.” She pressed the brakes. “I didn’t expect it to go like that.”
“It’s geared low for off-road driving. You ever handle a stick before?”
There it was again. Everything he said sounded sexual. He needed to think before he spoke—think about cars, engines, transmissions. Anything but sex.
“I had a Beemer at home.” Lacey seemed oblivious to the innuendo. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
He cleared his throat. “Must have been nice, driving a Beemer.”
She shook her head. “Not really. Nothing back home is nice. Not anymore.”
How could it not be nice? Bradford had made a fortune by dividing up the Caldwell land into dozens of suburban lots. He’d done it with a score of other farms too. The guy was rolling in misbegotten gains.
“BMWs are nice cars,” he said. “Expensive.”
“Yeah, well, I paid a pretty high price.” She stared ahead and downshifted, then accelerated into a curve. “So did a lot of other people.”
***
Lacey lost herself in the rumble of the truck’s engine and the smooth glide of the gears, downshifting to skim the curves as she sped along the blacktop road out of town.
She wished Chase hadn’t brought up Trent, or Trent’s money, or the car Trent had bought her. She hated to admit she’d been a party to preying on her hometown, even unintentionally. But she needed to clear her conscience, and maybe talking about it would help Chase get on with his life, like Pam said.
“Chase, I didn’t know what Trent was doing. I really didn’t. And when I came here, I didn’t realize you were one of the—the victims.”
“I’m not a victim.” He kept his eyes averted and stared moodily out the windshield. She wondered if the grim set of his mouth had anything to do with her or if he was always like that.
“I didn’t know until I talked to Pam that he’d taken your land. I came here because I thought we were friends—friends forever. You know, like you wrote in my yearbook.” She smiled tentatively. “I thought I could depend on you, like the sign says.”
Chase’s eye twitched just the slightest bit, telling her she’d hit a nerve, but he covered his reaction in an instant and shot her a cold stare. Then he looked away quickly, as if he was embarrassed by what he’d seen. She wanted to smooth her hair or run a finger over the delicate skin under her eyes to make sure her makeup hadn’t caked into her brand-new wrinkles. But she kept both hands resolutely on the wheel.
Chase cleared his throat. “How did you find me?”
“Facebook.”
“Facebook?” He looked confused.
“I needed to go somewhere new, start over. And wherever I went, I wanted to make sure I knew someone there, in case something happened. I saw you lived in Wyoming, so…” She concentrated on a curve, accelerating gradually as the arc tightened. “I didn’t friend you because I didn’t plan to ask you for help. I just needed to know I had someone around, just in case. Like a security blanket.”
She pictured Chase wrapping himself around her, holding her tightly to the solid plane of his chest. She wasn’t sure “security” really defined the way that would make her feel.
“God, I didn’t even remember I was on Facebook.”
“I know. It said you only had two friends. I figure one of them was Pam, and the other one was Mark Zuckerberg.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m still Mr. Popular. So how come you hunted me down?”
“What are you, a rabbit? I didn’t hunt you down; you were impossible to miss once I got here. You’ve practically got your name in lights with that sign and everything.” She sighed. “Besides, everything went wrong back home. I really didn’t know what to do, and when I thought of you, I remembered—I don’t know. I remembered you were always there for me. I guess I was hoping you still were.”
The grim set of his mouth softened slightly. He’d always been a sucker for a pity party. “I’m sorry about the divorce.”
“Oh, don’t be sorry about that. That was the one part that went right.” She tried to laugh, but it came out flat and insincere. “The day I signed those papers was the first time I had a say in my life since the time I had a temper tantrum in the Safeway when I was five.”
“Oh, come on,” he said. “You were head cheerleader. Prom queen. You ran the whole school.”
“By doing everything everybody wanted me to do,” she said. “It was nice, Chase, I admit it. I thought it was what I wanted. But when I walked out of that lawyer’s office, I wanted to fling my hat in the air like Mary Tyler Moore. I was finally free to be my own self.”
“So did you?”
“Fling my hat? Nope.” She shook her head regretfully. “Didn’t have one. All I could do was stand on that sidewalk and grin. Somebody walking by asked me if I was okay. I must have looked like an idiot.”
“No, I meant did you get to be yourself?”
“Not for long. Reality set in pretty quick. I didn’t want to live on Trent’s money, so I started looking for work. I was looking forward to it. I was going to go to school at night and get my real estate license.” She glanced over at him, biting her lip. “Not to do what Trent did. I wanted to find people homes. Maybe help revitalize Conway—you know, spruce up the downtown. Stuff like that.” She blinked a couple times, fast, as if fighting back tears. “I figured I’d finally get started on being me. My own self.”
“Which is who?” Chase asked.
Lacey pressed the accelerator hard, veering into a turn, fixing her eyes on the road. “I have no freaking idea. I’ve depended on other people all my life, Chase. I never realized it until I had to depend on myself. And I hate to admit this, but there’s not much there to depend on. Nobody in Conway would hire me. Everybody hates me.”
“Nobody could hate you.”
“You do.”
“No, I don’t.” He sighed. “I tried to. But I don
’t.” He looked down at his lap, then up at her. “I can’t.”
She blew out a long breath. “Well, anyway, they froze Trent’s assets, which is fine with me. Like I said, I didn’t want to live on that money anyway. But the Mustang and the motel have just about eaten up all my cash. I have a credit card, but the limit’s two thousand dollars. It’s going to cost me more than that to fix the car. And meanwhile, Wade’s probably looking for me. Like I told you, he came to my house. He was always a problem, Chase. Remember back in high school?”
Chase nodded. Of course he remembered. He’d helped her out that night when Wade came on to her. She’d been drunk, and Wade had been persistent, and Chase had come along just in time. He’d been there for her, just like she said. The fact that he’d kissed her in the car didn’t change that.
“Well, he kept that up. He was always hanging around, always sucking up to Trent and then looking at me like—well, you know.”
He nodded.
“And once Trent got in trouble, it got even worse. It was like Wade knew there was nobody to stop him. He’d park across the street, watching me. And then he came over in the middle of the night, and I just…” She looked down at her hands “I’d rather drive off the face of the earth than be alone with him again.” She scanned the barren landscape through the windshield. “I guess I did drive off the face of the earth. But as long as he doesn’t find me, that’s fine with me.”
Chapter 11
The truck hit a bump, jarring Lacey out of her memories. She realized she’d been staring unseeing at the road ahead while she slid down the slippery slope of memory lane. It was a miracle they hadn’t ended up in a ditch.
Maybe that’s what they needed, though. The air in the cab shimmered with tension from all they’d left unsaid. Maybe she needed to shake things up a little.
Cranking the wheel to the right, she bounced onto the rocky shoulder and pitched the truck down onto the weedy strip bordering the road. Chase slapped one hand on the dashboard and held on, turning to her with a wide-eyed stare.
“Hey, you’re so hot on this four-wheeling thing, I figured I’d try it.” She steered along a barbed wire fence, then fishtailed around a corner, letting the rear wheels slide until they gripped the dirt and heaved the truck forward. “This is kind of fun.”
“Get back on the road,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, come on. You said she was made for rocky terrain, right?”
“Not this rocky terrain. You need to get out of this hayfield.”
“Hayfield?” She laughed. There wasn’t a scrap of hay where she was driving—just an occasional tangle of thistles and clumps of spiky yucca sticking up from the bare, cracked dirt. “This isn’t a hayfield. This is a desert.”
“Fletcher Galt thinks it’s a hayfield,” Chase said. “And since he owns it and he’ll shoot anybody who trespasses, you’d better turn left.”
“He’ll shoot us? You’re kidding.”
“He shot one of my cattle.”
“Holy crap. You’re not too civilized out here in Wyoming, are you?”
“Fletcher wouldn’t be civilized if he lived in Buckingham Palace. He’d probably shoot the queen if she crossed him.”
He grunted as she veered left onto a dirt two-track that was almost invisible under a cloak of grass and weeds. The truck lurched over a washout and plunged into a wooded area scattered with boulders.
“That better?” Lacey shot him a grin. Back when she was a kid she’d loved to have outdoor adventures—swimming at the quarry, building bonfires, creating all those teenaged memories—but she hadn’t done anything like that in years. She’d been hovering like a ghost in the air-conditioned confines of Trent’s big house for so long, she’d forgotten what it was like to be real, to do things. Cranking down the driver’s-side window, she propped her arm on the track and enjoyed the heat of the sun on her skin.
The truck took every obstacle in stride, heaving over the rocks like a lumbering beast. Stray limbs from the trees bordering the long-abandoned road thwapped the doors as they passed, and the sound reminded her of running onto the field at the Lions games with the cheer squad, the team in their pads and helmets high-fiving them as they bounded onto the field. She could almost hear the cheers of the crowd. It made her feel like the old Lacey again—her perky, confident self.
The pickup humped over another washout, and she returned her attention to the road and downshifted. The front end heaved upward and crashed down, then repeated the motion as the rear tires topped a massive rock. Easing out the clutch, she pressed the accelerator, frowning when their forward motion failed to resume.
“What the…” She pressed the accelerator again, harder this time. The truck roared, tires spinning uselessly as mud spattered the rock behind them.
“Ease up,” Chase shouted over the racket. “Ease up!”
She let up on the pedal and felt the truck inch forward, then dip. There was a harsh grating noise as the rock scraped the truck’s undercarriage, and the tires spun again. Looking left and right, she realized they weren’t in a washout; she’d driven into a creek. Ahead was a muddy bank; beyond that, a swampy morass of mud and tufted grass. She turned and looked behind her.
“Oops.”
The rock she’d driven over loomed surprisingly large in the rearview mirror.
Chase lifted himself out of the seat to lean out the window, gazing ahead. The move put his butt right at eye level, so she couldn’t help looking—especially since his jeans were worn white at the seat in testament to the hard work that had built those flexing muscles. He shifted to look behind them, his biceps swelling to lift the weight of his broad shoulders. It was incredible to think that her geeky, gangly friend had turned into this—this stud. She could barely believe it was the same guy.
She eyed his slim hips and smiled. Yup, it was Chase. It said so on the back of his belt, in fancy letters tooled into the leather. He’d worn a belt like that all through school, apparently unaware that having his name emblazoned on his backside was hardly a fashion statement. Apparently, his sense of style hadn’t grown with the rest of him.
So maybe he really hadn’t changed that much. Maybe the old Chase was still in there somewhere.
He pitched back into the seat, then opened the door and climbed down from the high cab.
Lacey set her hand on the gear shift, ready for action. “You going to push?”
“I’m going to drive.” He edged around the front of the truck, balancing on the rocks that jutted out of the flowing water. In moments he was at her window, gesturing for her to open the door. She opened the window instead.
“I think I can make it if you push,” she said.
He gave her a deadpan look, then headed for the back of the truck. She watched in the rearview as he set both hands on the tailgate and braced himself against the boulder. Focusing on the rocky path ahead, she set both hands on the wheel and bit her lower lip until it hurt. Don’t gun it. Take it easy.
“Don’t gun it,” he said.
“I know.”
She gripped the wheel and eased up on the clutch, watching Chase in the rearview mirror. His face was set in concentration, his jaw jutting forward. As their eyes met in the mirror, she finally recognized the Chase Caldwell she’d known—the old friend she’d come here to find. The jolt of recognition brought all her old feelings for him back—friendship, caring, and most of all, trust. She had always trusted him.
And looking into those brown eyes, she knew she still could. He might be angry, he might be difficult, he might have changed in a million ways. But the sign at the dealership hadn’t lied.
You could depend on Chase Caldwell.
She smiled, and he looked away, giving her a sharp nod and cutting the moment off as abruptly as an ax splitting wood. She eased up on the clutch a little more, simultaneously pressing the accelerator, then jammed on the brake as the truck lurched backward.
Chase disappeared from the mirror, and all she could see was trees a
nd rock.
Damn. Just when she’d figured out she could trust him, she’d gone and killed the guy.
His face suddenly popped back into view in the mirror. She didn’t want to meet his eyes now. He looked furious.
“Go forward! Forward! You’re in reverse, Lacey!”
“Sorry.” She shoved the stick into first and tried again, but she caught his eyes and the anger in his gaze made her panic. She gunned it. The tires spun and mud flew, spattering his face and chest. He put his head down and pushed anyway, his arms straightening as the truck inched forward. She held her breath and gave it a little gas.
The engine died. The truck lurched backward again, and she looked in the mirror to catch a look of horror on Chase’s face before he dropped from sight again.
When he reappeared at her window, she thought maybe she should run over him in self-defense, because he looked mad enough to kill her. Maybe she should make a preemptive strike.
Or maybe it was time to get the peace process under way.
“Sorry.” She smiled hesitantly. “I think we’re stuck.”
“You’re stuck,” he said. “I’ll get us out of here. Move over.”
She started to protest, then sighed and did as he said. She’d made two stupid mistakes, first leaving the truck in reverse, then letting it stall. She couldn’t blame him for losing faith in her driving abilities.
“You want me to push?” she asked.
He shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I think a decent driver can handle this without a push.”
“I’m a decent driver,” she said. “I just forgot I had it in reverse. And then it stalled. Guess this jalopy isn’t the gem you made it out to be.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the truck.” He cranked the engine to life and edged forward. She was almost disappointed when it responded and inched forward.
“I set it up for you,” she said. “If it hadn’t stalled, I’d have gotten us out of here.”
He ignored her. She wasn’t sure if the noise in the cab was the engine growling or Chase, but the end result was another spin of the tires.
Tall, Dark and Cowboy Page 8