Rebel Cowboy

by Nicole Helm

  “But I think she might be good for us.”

  “I have no doubt, actually.” Summer showing up felt more and more like serendipity than the catastrophe she’d initially figured it would be. Not that anything good was happening with Dad, but nothing worse than things already were.

  In fact, not even worse, because over the past five years she’d slowly come to the conclusion that Dad had never really cared, or loved her nearly as deeply as she’d thought. If he could turn himself off like that because of his accident, then maybe she’d always imagined his affection.

  But he’d let Mom walk away with his child because Mom had threatened to take her, and she couldn’t deny that had to mean something. Couldn’t get over the belief that it meant Dad was under the shell of a man he’d become. Somewhere.

  And maybe they could find it.

  But first things first.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said to Caleb, pushing the door open and hoping her legs held her up. Her legs felt weak. Everything felt weak.

  “Take your time. I’ve got things covered.” He readjusted his hat and made a wry face. “Promise this time.”

  “I believe you.” And she did, which she wasn’t sure she could have said a few weeks ago. Caleb had been right about needing to be honest.

  Honesty. Trying again. Not shutting off everything in the hopes the pain would shut off too. That was a lot of stuff to change in such a short period of time. Heavy and intimidating, but laced with something she hadn’t felt in so long.

  Hope.

  Laced with something she’d tried to convince herself didn’t exist, or couldn’t last. But she believed now.

  Love did hurt. But it healed and it gave and it supported. It was there, a hand on her back when she was facing something she didn’t know how to deal with. Strong arms around her when she broke down or a hand to hold on a starlit night.

  On not-quite steady legs, she walked to the cabin. She’d take a peek in the window, maybe the door if it was unlocked, and see if her keys were in there. Then, if she didn’t see anything, she’d search for Buck.

  She felt like some kind of creepy Peeping Tom, peering into the window next to the door. Everything looked about the same, if dark. Llama books piled on the table, and her truck keys sitting on the counter exactly where she’d left them.

  Well, at least he hadn’t tossed them into the fields as she’d half expected.

  “He’s gone.”

  Mel jumped and turned to see Buck staring at her from below the porch. She swallowed. “Gone?”

  “Yup. Chicago.”

  Even though she’d imagined it, the confirmation was painful. She leaned against the wall of the cabin, trying to stay upright. Trying not to cry. She’d ruined everything. Everything. Not just her chances with Dan, but this thing he’d been so excited about. All because she’d pretended not to believe in him to save her own stupid heart.

  She slid into a crouch, idiot that she was. She would not cry in front of Buck, of all damn people, but all the strength had been knocked completely out of her. How did she fix this?

  “He’ll be back Wednesday.”

  “What?” The words made no sense in the midst of all her swirling thoughts.

  “Wednesday. He’ll be back Wednesday,” Buck repeated, looking at her like she’d grown three heads. It was hard to blame him. “Had to go take care of things in Chicago for a few days or somethin’.”

  “Right. Sure. Yeah.” Mel kept nodding, long past the moment she needed to. It took physically putting her hands on her face to stop, to get some semblance of reason back in gear.

  Buck muttered something and walked back to the llamas, and Mel sat, trying to breathe through the remaining pangs of panic and heartbreak, and focus on the reality. He wasn’t gone for good. If he was taking care of things in Chicago he was, in fact, probably making arrangements to come back for good.

  Wednesday.

  She could wait. She could. Or… No, she couldn’t… She’d wait. It would be the sensible thing to wait for him to come back, and then she could lay out her apologies. Her own…love crap.

  Or…

  Mel stumbled to her feet, swallowing down the jittery flips her stomach seemed to be doing. The idea was not sensible. Going to Chicago on a whim, without knowing if there’d be a flight or where he was…it was something she would never, ever do.

  Which seemed like reason enough to do it, to prove…something. That she wasn’t afraid.

  No, that wasn’t right. Because she was afraid. She was downright terrified, so it wasn’t about proving she was strong or brave. It was about laying her heart at his feet because she simply could not wait.

  She was really losing her marbles.

  One of the llamas bleated, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut, because her first thought was that it was Mystery, and if she was starting to recognize llamas by their bleats…well, she’d already lost her marbles.

  So…why not go for it?

  * * *

  Dan didn’t mind the suit so much, but all the people were driving him nuts. He’d answered what felt like the same question about thirty times.

  No, it’s not about the cheating allegations.

  Yes, I realize people will think that no matter what happens.

  No, I don’t care.

  It was at least somewhat refreshing to find it was true. Sure, he’d love everyone to think his career was a grand and shining example of how to play the game, but even if he’d done everything right, that was never going to be the case.

  He’d just be happy if this official announcement took some of the heat off Dad. Few people had suggested he was an accomplice, but there was no doubt Dad had spent his summer being asked about his son’s possible shady dealings. Dan preferred people ask Dad questions about actual hockey, about his actual job. If this took the heat off Dad a bit, so be it.

  And if Dan had snuck a little line in there about hoping the NHL considered investigating someday so they could offer a formal apology, well, it was his say, and he got to say it.

  The press conference was over, but there was still a room full of people to contend with. But he was ready to be done. Done with reporters, done with a few teammates who’d come to wish him well. Done with Mom’s buzzing anxiety in the background.

  He supposed that’s why Dad had disappeared a few minutes ago. They had enough tension between them, Mom sighing and wringing her hands over the amount of people in the room was probably overwhelming.

  “Mom, you can go now. It’s over.”

  Mom managed a paltry smile. “I’m sorry. Is it any wonder your father and I got divorced? I never could stand all this attention.”

  “Well, it was hardly the only reason.”

  “Yes. There were a legion.” She paused, moving to stand closer. “I’m sorry you ever thought you were one of them,” she said quietly, her hand clasping around his arm—a little awkward, but an attempt nonetheless.

  “Let’s save that for another time.”

  “Of course, I just… Your father mentioned the possibility of a woman and I hated to think you might be…hesitant because of…things.”

  Dan thought his head couldn’t hurt any more. “Believe it or not, I was not the hesitant party.”

  Mom’s forehead furrowed in confusion. “Oh, how odd.”

  “I know I’m a rather charming SOB, Mom, but it’s not that crazy someone wouldn’t be head over heels for me.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just…” She nodded toward a space by the door. “I thought perhaps she was here to try to convince you.”

  Dan felt as though he’d just been checked headfirst into the plexiglass. Everything seemed fuzzy and not quite focused, muffled.

  The woman Mom nodded toward was tall, brunette. Sharp nose, full mouth. Freckles on her nose and fear in her hazel eyes. />
  It took at least a minute for all the pieces to align themselves into sense. Probably because Mel being in Chicago was just out of the box enough to make zero sense, but she’d thrown in a dress.

  An honest-to-God dress, but her hair was still in a braid, and she wasn’t wearing heels. Her makeup wasn’t any more jarring than it’d been that night she’d shown up at the cabin demanding sex.

  Which he really needed to not think about right now—except he couldn’t think at all. How was she here, standing in a doorway of a Chicago media room, let alone why?

  “I have to go,” Dan managed, his voice rusty. But he didn’t take his eyes off Mel, who was talking to Dad. Awkward discomfort came off her in waves.

  Everything inside of him wanted to go over and sweep her away. Back to his apartment. Back to Blue Valley, anywhere where he could…

  Yeah, none of that. I don’t believe in you. He had to focus in on that moment, not the one when her hazel eyes met his across the room, so many emotions swirling under the nerves that he wasn’t sure he could say where he was, let alone what day it was.

  “Yes, I think that’d be a good idea. Your father will handle anyone else who wants to talk. And, I think we’ll assume you’ll be busy this evening.”

  He forced himself to look away from Mel, even though it was physically painful. But he trained his eyes on Mom. “I may not be.”

  Mom laughed, and he thought how odd it was he couldn’t remember the last time she’d sounded so natural. She pushed him toward Mel and, well…

  Maybe he would not be busy this evening, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to at least listen to her. She had come all this way.

  All this way. What the hell was she doing?

  She said something to Dad then stepped toward him. They met in the middle of the room, surrounded by all these people…people he barely cared about outside his parents.

  And her.

  “Hi,” she offered, clutching a colorful purse that seemed so incongruent to Mel he didn’t know what was happening. Was that even her? All meek-voiced and in that weird getup?

  “That’s quite an outfit.” He’d wince at the asshole greeting if he didn’t so clearly remember the last time he’d seen her. Running away.

  “I…borrowed most of this from Summer,” she said, waving awkwardly at herself. “Your Dad suggested I come here. I mean, Chicago was my idea, but when I talked to him about how to find you, he said here. That way you could…you know, ignore me if you didn’t want to talk to me, and he’d give me a ride back to the airport.”

  “You talked to my dad?”

  “I talked to a lot of people. It wasn’t easy figuring out where you’d be and if I’d be able to see you.”

  He wasn’t warmed by that. He wasn’t affected by that at all. No, sir. “So. Why’d you do all that?”

  Mel looked around the room, and there were a handful of people looking right back. Probably wondering who the strange woman talking to Dan Sharpe was.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he muttered, taking her elbow and immediately regretting it. He wanted to curl his entire hand around her arm, feel the smooth muscle underneath, haul her to him and forget that past week had gotten so fucked up.

  But that solved nothing. Certainly not her, and she was the one who needed solving. He’d been right and she’d been…

  Scared.

  Well, like he wasn’t?

  Still, he steered her out of the room, out of the building, to the VIP parking lot and his rental car, if only because as soon as they got to his car, he wouldn’t have to lead her. He could let go. Not that he was affected by simply touching her. Not that it made him desperate for her. Not in the least.

  Breaking that connection was relief not…pain. The pain had been in her walking away.

  “Get in,” he instructed, sliding into the driver’s seat. He waited almost a full minute, all but holding his breath, before she finally opened the passenger door and slid in. Her dress edged up her thighs.

  “You know that’s not fair.”

  “What?”

  “Your legs.”

  She smoothed a hand over her skirt, looking somehow sheepish and pleased. “I…I didn’t want to seem out of place.”

  “You are out of place.” I’m out of place, he wanted to say, but he kept that in. “Why are you here, Mel?”

  She took a deep breath, then shifted in her seat so she was facing him. “I’m here because I’m sorry. And I love you.”

  He wanted to laugh, because while he hadn’t exactly expected her to spit in his face, such a straight answer was beyond him at the moment.

  Sorry and I love you? Strangely, as much as he had wanted to hear her say it before, now that she was, it wasn’t enough.

  Chapter 27

  Mel tried to read his expression, but she didn’t know what she saw. She didn’t know anything. She felt like some other person, and he seemed like some other person, and she didn’t know what to do. Not beyond what she’d already said.

  He didn’t look at her, just stared out his windshield—at nothing but concrete and expensive cars. “You’re sorry. And you love me.”

  She blew out a breath. She hadn’t let herself imagine he would say go to hell, because she never would have been able to get on that plane, call a million people she didn’t know, and navigate getting here. But she could see a million ways and reasons he would do that now.

  Except she was here, and she had to keep trying. “Yes.”

  “Have you ever heard the phrase too little, too late?”

  “Have you ever heard the phrase better late than never?” The quip was so unlike her, so like him, she surprised even herself, and was rewarded when his lips curled a fraction and he expelled a breath she was going to call a laugh. “It’s never too late to fix a mistake. It might be too late for you to forgive me, but…”

  “But what, Mel? Because if I remember correctly, you looked me straight in the eye and told me you didn’t believe in me.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. For as much as it hurt him, the reminder was a painful thing for her as well. Without the panic supporting that decision, she could feel the ugliness of it. A gross betrayal of trust to lie like that. “I was scared.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” he muttered.

  All the pretty speeches she’d memorized in the airport, on the airplane, in the cab, jumbled in her head. She didn’t know how to be honest and open with snarky, angry Dan.

  Then maybe you should have been open and honest when he was being all sweet and…loving.

  Right. So it was her turn to be sweet and loving in the face of anger and hurt. Something akin to penance. She deserved this. She needed to find the courage to face it. So she pushed a hand to her stomach, took a deep breath, and just spoke whatever truths she could find.

  “You don’t belong here.”

  “You have a strange habit of following me around telling me I don’t belong where I am. It’s getting on my nerves, honey.”

  Honey. She would not cry at that. She’d hold on to it, though, deep in her heart, and always remember his reason for using that endearment. “I actually mean it this time. Because I’m not scared. Well, I am scared that you’re going to tell me I really did mess this up irreparably, but I’m not scared of the truth. Or not scared of it enough to pretend it isn’t there.”

  “Mel.”

  “You look perfect in that suit,” she blurted. He opened his mouth to cut her off again, but she wouldn’t let him. “But no matter how perfect you look, no matter how charmingly you smiled at all those idiots asking you those stupid questions when anyone can see you’re telling the truth, you don’t…it’s not you. I’ve seen the way you light up with an idea, the way you smile after a hard day’s work, how much you bizarrely enjoy those demon creatures. That ranch is a part of your soul, and it’s where you belong.�
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  “I know all that. Why are you telling me? If you thought I was leaving for good, you’re an—”

  “Buck told me you were coming back Wednesday. I’m saying all this because I want you to see how much of a lie it was when I said I don’t believe in you. That saying you wouldn’t stay was just reflexive panic because you staying threatened me. And I wouldn’t have felt that panic if I actually believed you wouldn’t stick. As much as my weird stuff is about, you know, people leaving and people not caring, it’s possibly a little deeper than that.”

  “Possibly.”

  She was trying to be good and give him his space, wait for him to make the first move, but she found she couldn’t keep going if she didn’t touch him, even if it was just the scratchy sleeve of his suit. “I have gotten through rough things by pushing through, always moving forward and doing what had to be done. If I ever stopped to think, or reflect, or God forbid feel, I couldn’t do that, you know? And then, we told Dad about Summer, and he knew. He knew about her the whole time, and he had his reasons and whatever, but then he walked away. He shut us all out and down, and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to shut the good stuff out too because the bad stuff threatens my…ability to get through it.”

  “It took you this long to figure that out?”

  “I’m an incredibly slow learner, if you haven’t noticed.”

  “So you don’t want to be your father, shutting everyone out. That doesn’t mean you love me, Mel.”

  Possibly it was the wrong move, but she had to do something, so she slid her hand up his arm, to his neck, fingers brushing the skin above his stiff collar. “You’re right. It doesn’t mean that, but I do. Dan, I do love you, and there is nothing easy about that for me. But you are funny and strong and…you put yourself out there. I love you, I…respect you. I know this doesn’t change what I did.” She let her fingers glide along the smooth length of his jaw.

  She wasn’t giving up, but who knew how many opportunities she’d get to touch him if he didn’t forgive her.

  She swallowed. “I think you had to learn something when you came here, and you did. Well, I had to learn something about…love and life, and I’m sorry it took hurting you to see it. I hope you can forgive me, but even if you say you can’t right now, I’m not giving up on you. Because you love me and I love you, and I won’t give up on that when I’m finally realizing how important it is.”