Rebel Cowboy

by Nicole Helm

  She blinked at him, trying to wrap her mind around what that said about him. A mess as a kid. His thing about screwing everything up. It didn’t gel with everything she knew about him in the now. Sure, he’d messed up a few hockey games, but even a person who’d started with zero faith in him had to look around and see how much he had accomplished. She might have helped, but the llama ranch—that was all Dan’s hard work.

  Okay, the money he had helped, but that wasn’t the heart of this place. It was the lucky break that got him here—everything else was Dan’s sweat and care.

  The usual discomfort with that had her pulling her arm out of his grasp. “Look, that’s not bad advice, but I’ve done it. I tell them and they don’t care.”

  “Do you think that’s what it is?” He folded his arms behind his head, all shirtless, conversational ease. “Because there are a lot of ways you act like you don’t care, and I think you do. But you protect yourself. Same way I run away. To protect myself from the choke. Or the aftermath of the choke.”

  “I can’t believe you’re…”

  “Making so much sense? I know. I’m surprised myself. Apparently Dan Sharpe is a pretty astute guy.”

  “You’re something that starts with a-s.”

  “Admit it, you love me.” He cleared his throat, the ease disappearing as he sat up and scratched a hand through his hair. “Uh, not quite what I meant.”

  “We should probably…” She gestured toward the door, because this was too weird to deal with. All of it. The neck kissing and the insightful words and the…that.

  “Get up. Get going. Yeah.” He got off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Their normal routine was that he showered while she made breakfast and coffee, then she got ready while he fed and watered Mystery.

  It was a nice routine. She liked it. A lot. It was so much more…companionable than the way she’d been existing the past few years. Sure, she worked side by side with Caleb, but it had never felt like working together. Caleb kept so much from her, and she kept so much from him.

  Working together felt good. Like before Dad’s accident, when she’d been an integral part of Shaw, but so had Dad. Teamwork. A common goal. Respect and…

  Crap, there was that L word again. Well, that was so not going to be considered, because it was out of the question. Whether it was real or not, she didn’t want it, because love did not last. It screwed everything up.

  “You could unpack some of that stuff, you know,” Dan said, and she suddenly realized he hadn’t disappeared into the bathroom. He was standing in the little hallway, watching her. “It’s not like I don’t have empty drawers sitting around.”

  “Dan…” No, she could not unpack that bag. It was her last line of defense against heartbreak. She had too much breaking things in her, too little wherewithal for heartbreak. This was the end of the line with them. As far as it could go.

  She really hoped that hockey tryout swooped in and saved her from having to do the breaking herself.

  “Let me guess,” he said. “This is the part where you turn into the douchey guy who doesn’t want me getting any ideas.”

  “Dan—”

  “I’ve been that guy on occasion, so I think I know the signs.”

  “Dan—”

  “Stop saying my name, unpack your damn bag, and get the pained look off your face. What are you so weirded out by? It’s not like you can’t pack up and go in a hurry if you want.”

  He stepped into the bathroom, effectively ending the conversation, which was good. Because if he had stayed, she might have been tempted to tell him there were a lot of things to be afraid of. Mainly that if she unpacked, even with her worry over Shaw, she might never want to leave.

  Would that really be so bad?

  It was a question she didn’t know how to break down and answer. She could think of all the ways it would be terrible. Awful. Fights and abandonment and resentment and bitterness. She could picture it all as if it had already happened. All she had to do was conjure up a memory or two of her parents’ raucous fights there toward the end.

  Mom wanted more. Dad wanted exactly what he had. Secrets had been born and flourished into vines that choked everyone out. And, oh, could she see history repeating itself one way or another.

  Because if she hadn’t been able to fix it then, what in her now would be able to fix it if it happened with her as a participating party?

  No, she had to keep that line of defense. So she left her bag packed. She went to the kitchen to make the coffee and to keep things going as they had been. All she had to do was keep everything as it was and…

  Well, she had no idea what followed that, but she’d rather keep her head down and not think about it.

  * * *

  Dan had learned a lot about himself since coming to Blue Valley over a month ago. Firstly, he liked llamas. Not that he’d ever considered his feelings on them one way or another, but now he knew. He liked working with them. They were kind of standoffish and weird at first, but it was all the more rewarding when they treated you with respect.

  Maybe llama respect was crazy, but he didn’t have to admit it to anyone. It could be his little secret.

  So there was that, and then the surprise that hard work didn’t necessarily mean forgetting everything else. Sometimes hard work gave him more than ample time to think about hockey, but it was a good kind of thinking. Effective. Decisive.

  If Scott got him the tryout, that was great, but he wouldn’t drop everything here. He would make sure everything was settled before he went back. He’d spend his summers here, and when the time came—if the time wasn’t now—he’d retire here.

  This was his present and it was his future, regardless of what opportunities arose. If no opportunities arose, here he was.

  He looked around the stables. They were making sure everything was set for his herd delivery tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would have a whole group of llamas living here.

  He grinned, couldn’t help himself. He had built this, and he would sustain it.

  He glanced at Mel, who was working to repair the hinge of the door from the stables to the enclosure. She was bent over, twisting a screwdriver around as she cursed under her breath. The sun from outside haloed her profile, and it reminded him of the third thing he was slowly inching his way toward learning about himself.

  He was shitty at holding his tongue when he cared about somebody. With Mel not just working with him but living with him, trying to keep his mouth shut was a daily battle.

  This morning had been more of a failure than a battle on all counts. Too much of himself was bleeding all over every moment. He should rein it in, pull back a little. Escape.

  But he saw her there, flannel shirt pushed back to her elbows, a few strands of brown hair escaping her braid, and her face lined with sheer determination…and he didn’t want to escape. He was drawn to that, to her, to this.

  He wanted more. All of it. She had let part of that wall she kept herself hidden behind down, and he kept thinking that next thing would be enough, but she was still holding something back.

  There were moments that were comfortable—far more comfortable than that night at the hockey rink, the way she’d said she cared about him as if he was wresting a criminal confession from her.

  But the stronger he felt about this place, about what he could do here, the stronger he felt about his ability to make something with Mel. Which meant comfort wasn’t what he was after.

  He stood from where he’d been organizing the feed, suddenly filled with a kind of purpose. He wanted better than this strange limbo they’d found themselves in.

  He wanted more.

  Like you’re not going to fuck up more.

  His phone rang, Scott popping up on the caller ID. Dan cringed. He wasn’t quite ready for a dose of his other life when he was becoming so good with this one.

  But he�
��d made his decisions, right? Even if he left, he was coming back. Mel’s gaze met his as he swiped his finger across the screen.

  “Scott?” she called.

  He nodded, holding the phone to his ear.

  “Good luck,” she said before turning back to her work with the gate.

  “Sharpe,” he answered, Mel’s “good luck” ringing in his ears. Because he didn’t know what she was wishing good luck for. Getting a tryout? Leaving?

  “Hello?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “You’re breaking up.”

  Dan sighed and stepped out the back entrance of the barn to higher ground and better reception. “Better?”

  He didn’t answer that question. “I got you the tryout.”

  For some reason, he hadn’t been expecting it to actually be the tryout. He’d expected more I’m working on it. But, hell, time was running out, wasn’t it? “Tryout?”

  “Phoenix. They agreed to take a look at you, man. I’m getting you a flight out tomorrow and the tryout will be Friday.”

  “Tomorrow?” Any excitement, any burst of adrenaline went cold. “Scott, that’s not possible.”

  “Of course it is. Look, I know you might be a little rusty, but if we get you an early flight tomorrow, you’ve got all day to prepare.”

  “That’s not the issue.”

  “Then what the hell is?”

  “I have responsibilities here. I have…” Well, he wasn’t going to tell Scott about the llamas being delivered tomorrow. “I have responsibilities and I need more than twenty-four-hours’ notice.”

  “You’re shitting me right now.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Dan, I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t need to know. All I need is for you to be on a plane tomorrow morning, and be ready to try out on Friday. This is your shot. I’m not sure I can get you another one.”

  Dan looked around him. The way the sun blazed on the cabin, the stables, the mountains. Everything was bright and brilliant, too brilliant—too much. Overwhelming, and that wasn’t going to change. This was always going to be a big place, bigger and older and steadier than him. Always.

  But he wanted it. He needed it. He’d never felt a…belonging like this. He felt good on the ice, in control, successful, and that was its own kind of good feeling, but this was more. It would endure, it would be his, and for the first time, that didn’t scare him—that actually made his place here feel exactly right.

  “I can’t do it, Scott. If you can’t get me another tryout, that’s on you. I need at least a week’s notice. End of story.”

  “So you’re quitting. You’re running away to fucking Idaho?”

  Quitting. Running away. Sucking when it counts. “No, I’m not quitting.” But he wasn’t bending either. He was after something. Something bigger than just hockey or just the ranch. Something whole. “You get me a tryout that gives me enough time to make arrangements and get a few good skates in, I’ll take it.”

  “This is fucking crazy, Dan. You cannot say no.”

  “I just did.” He hit End before Scott could argue with him anymore. There was nothing to argue. He’d made up his mind and he wouldn’t falter. Not on this.

  He stepped back in the barn to find Mel standing next to Mystery. She gingerly reached out, and for possibly the first time, Mystery didn’t nip at her.

  If he needed any more of a sign he’d made the right choice, he could not for the life of him think of one.

  “Making friends?”

  She startled and Mystery must have taken her sudden movement as antagonism because she spat right on Mel’s leg.

  “Oh, you fu—”

  “Hey, now.”

  Mel rolled her eyes at him. “So, what did Scott have to say? Tryout a go?”

  He wasn’t sure why he hesitated. Maybe it was how hopeful she sounded, like she wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it was because he wanted to tell her the whole thing. Not just saying no to the too-soon tryout, but the enduring stuff. The making-this-work stuff.

  He needed more time to work that out. And some motherfucking ambience when he told her. Not llama shit and hay, as much as he’d come to not be bothered by those things.

  “Not yet. Close.” A lie was probably wrong, but he needed it for now.

  She nodded. “Well, I’m glad it’s getting close.”

  There it was again—hope that he’d leave. It shouldn’t bug him, not when he knew she didn’t think he’d stay, but… Well, whether it should or not, it bothered the hell out of him. “Why are you glad?”

  “Why?” Her eyebrows drew together. “It’s what you want, right? You should get what you want.”

  “And if I said I wanted here and you?” So much for ambience and lack of llama shit.

  She froze, like an actual deer caught in headlights. He’d always thought that was just an expression, but her wide-eyed non-movement was exactly like that time he’d hit a deer in college.

  And then, of all fucking things, her phone rang. She blinked, pulling the phone out of her pocket.

  “Don’t answer it.”

  She swallowed as she looked at the screen. “It’s Caleb.”

  “Ignore it, Mel. We’re having an important conversation.”

  She stared at him, then back down at her phone, and he held his breath, because he needed her to do this. To be willing to talk about this. To be willing to take a chance. On him. On them.

  The phone went silent.

  Chapter 21

  Mel kept staring at the phone, even though it had stopped ringing. And if I said I wanted here and you? Yeah, she’d actually much rather talk to her brother than deal with that question.

  “Um, I need to call him back. Something could be wrong with Dad and—”

  “Mel—”

  Whatever he’d been about to say was drowned out by her ringer going off. Caleb again. “It’s… It must be important. I have to answer it. It could be…”

  “Mel, please.”

  But she couldn’t listen to his “please.” She couldn’t. I want you. This was not what she had signed on for. Him wanting her and wanting this place and that glimmer in his eye like he might stay. No. That was not the deal.

  The deal was he leave just like everyone else. And she’d make sure it happened. She would. Once she dealt with Caleb.

  “Hello?”

  “I need you to come home. Now.”

  She bristled at the sound of half demand, half desperation in her brother’s voice. The twinge of guilt it created in her stomach. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know how to explain this,” Caleb said, his voice all creaky and weird. Really weird. “But I need you here. I don’t know how to…” His voice broke and trailed off.

  “How to what? What’s wrong?” She gripped the phone tighter, and even though she could feel Dan behind her, she couldn’t think about him and that stuff now. Something was seriously wrong at home, and Caleb needed her.

  “There’s someone here. I…I don’t know what to do with her. I can’t let Dad see…”

  Mel could have sworn her heart stopped. For the longest, strangest second, she thought he might mean Mom. That she was back. “Who’s there?” she asked in little more than a whisper.

  “This girl. She says… She says she’s our sister.”

  “Sister.” She was swamped by a whole myriad of feelings. There was relief it wasn’t Mom, but there were other, more complicated emotions she couldn’t wade through. They just sat there, along with the ones Dan had stirred up, a big uncomfortable lump in her gut. “A sister. What, like Mom had other kids? Well, that’s not surprising, I guess.”

  “No, Mel, I mean, she is Mom’s but… She says Dad’s her father too.”

  “That can’t be.” Even though Caleb couldn’t see her, she shook her head, b
ecause that was ludicrous. How could they have a sibling they didn’t know about? “What is this? What is she asking for? Why is she here?” They certainly didn’t have anything to give.

  “I don’t know. I need you to come home. I need your help. She…she’s twenty-one. She could be…she could be Dad’s. What do I do about Dad?”

  Mel inhaled sharply. If she knew the answer to that question, would she be here? But this was new and big and…a sister. It couldn’t be.

  Twenty-one.

  Twenty-one years since Mom had jumped ship. A twenty-one-year-old sister. It really couldn’t be possible. This was some kind of mix-up.

  “She looks…” His voice lowered, his breath an audible inhale and exhale over the line. “Mel, she looks just like you.”

  “I’m on my way,” she managed. There were some things you could ignore. She didn’t look back at Dan, but she could feel him. Whether he liked it or not, she could ignore him. She had to. To survive whatever the hell was happening at home, she needed to ignore him completely.

  “I have to go.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s complicated.” She slid the phone into her pocket, still not turning to face him. She was afraid she’d break if she looked at him and he was being all nice-guy Dan. What if I wanted here and you?

  Yeah, she didn’t have it in her right now to deal with that. She didn’t have it in her ever to deal with that. So she started walking away. Just keep pushing forward until something works out, right?

  And if it never does?

  “Okay, it’s complicated,” he said, following her. “Explain it to me.”

  “I don’t have time.”

  “Then tell me on the way.”

  She stopped and turned to him, though she kept her gaze off of him, guarded. “On the way? No.” She shook her head and mustered her best no-nonsense tone. “I’m going.”

  “And I’m going with you.”

  She waved him off, stomping for the truck. “You have work to do. A ranch to take care of. You can’t run away.” It was mean of her, but she wanted her words to hit hard enough he’d stop. Anything to make him stop, stop pushing, stop being there, stop…all of it.