by Joann Baker
“Come on, bro,” Ryder guided him between the tables. “Shew, man, you reek.”
“She’ll be sorry. Everybody always leaves.”
Cal listened to Gabe’s inebriated muttering, watching until they were halfway across the floor, before turning back to Kristen. Even under such unpleasant circumstances, his heart raced at the sight of her. “If I get her in the truck, can you get her out when you get home? I don’t want Pops or Gramps to try and help Ryder deal with Gabe.”
“Yes,” Kristen reassured him. “But what about your truck? How will I get it back to you?” She had no idea how her mother had gotten here. Out of habit, she’d brought the keys to her car with her. Hopefully, her mother called a cab and had planned on taking one back home. That would have been one time Kristen wouldn’t have complained about spending money.
“I’ve got an idea. Bring it out to the ranch tomorrow, and I’ll take you riding.”
“Really?” Kristen’s mood improved considerably at his invitation. “I’ve never been riding, but I’d love to go with you.”
“Good,” Gabe nodded, glad that he’d salvaged some joy from the disastrous evening. “Wear comfortable jeans and boots. Oh, and bring a hat.”
“I don’t have a hat.”
“Not to worry. I’ve got one you can borrow.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, this is making me sick to my stomach,” Ivy stood, pushing between them, swaying slightly. Kristen slipped an elbow beneath her mother’s arm, steadying her as best she could.
“Let me at least help you outside.” Cal put a hand beneath Ivy’s other elbow and started leading them to the door.
“Thanks, handsome.” Ivy smiled up at him and, for a moment, he saw the woman she probably once was. Pretty and sweet, just like her daughter. “My girl is plenty big, but she’s not strong. Besides,” she stumbled, grabbing onto Cal’s muscled forearm, “I like the way you feel much better than her flab.”
“Mom!” Kristen flushed at her mother’s insensitive and suggestive words. The fact that she was drunk didn’t make things any better.
“It’s alright, honey,” Cal assured as he helped Ivy into the truck. Closing the door, he walked Kristen to the other side. Reaching into his front pocket, he gave her keys. “Are you okay?”
“Other than being super embarrassed, I’m fine.” She fiddled with key ring.
Cal placed a finger under her chin, forcing her eyes up to his. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart. Every family has that one member. Look at Gabe.”
“At least your brother doesn’t call you fat in front of people that mat…In front of people.”
Cal stepped closer, buoyed by being able to touch her soft skin. “If you want my opinion, I think your mother is jealous of your beautiful curves.”
Kristen wanted to believe the words were sincere since there was no one else around to perform for.
“Will you be okay to drive the truck home? If not, I can drive, and Ryder can get a hand to help with Gabe.”
“No, you need to go with him. Georgie doesn’t need to be upset.”
“Neither do you, baby.”
To say she was touched by his thoughtfulness wouldn’t be enough. “It’s okay. I’ve done this before. She’ll go to bed as soon as we get home.”
He stared at her for a few seconds before placing a tender kiss on her forehead. She missed him as soon as he stepped back. “If you need to stay with her tomorrow…”
“No,” Kristen shook her head vigorously, “I want to go riding with you.”
“Good.” He helped her into the high cab and closed the door behind her. He waved at her, standing there grinning like a lovesick calf. He didn’t know how long he would have stayed there watching the tail lights disappear if Ryder hadn’t chosen that moment to pull up beside him. With a last look, he got in the back of the king-sized cab beside Gabe, anticipation for tomorrow already flowing through him.
Kristen braked as the car in front of her slowed for a red light. Once at a full stop, she glanced at her mother. At one time, Ivy Thomas had been an extraordinarily attractive woman. Of medium height, she carried her one hundred and ten pound frame with cool self-awareness and confidence. She’d long since purged her hair of the same reddish tint that colored Kristen’s own natural tresses. Blondes, she’d quoted, always had more fun.
And fun had been Ivy’s top priority in life. She’d sought a good time at the expense of her marriage and her child, never once seeing a problem with her actions. Kristen had long ago accepted the fact that her mother was a self-centered human and a weak woman. She’d needed the constant attention and adulation from others and justified her use of others for her own means as her God-given right.
Still, as a child, Kristen had been unable to understand why her mother couldn’t love her. She’d seen it as a flaw within herself. Even though she’d gained an understanding of her mother’s true nature in her early teenage years, the feeling that something was wrong with her was harder for Kristen to dismiss.
It hadn’t helped that her mother constantly nagged her about her weight, her looks, the way she dressed or the fact that Kristen wasn’t into dating a lot of different men.
“Why, mother?” It wasn’t the first time she’d had to escort her less than sober mother from an event, but it was the first time she’d ever had to make her leave a bar.
“Don’t start, Kristen. The last thing I need is a holy roller speech from my own daughter.”
Kristen’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the steering wheel, carefully keeping her distance behind the vehicle in front of her as the light flipped to green. “Your attempt at deflection isn’t going to work this time, mother. You owe me an explanation. What on earth made you think it was okay to get stinking drunk with Gabe Anderson? You’ve made his family very upset.”
“Good Lord, Kristen, we both know this isn’t about his family.”
“It is.” Kristen felt the muscles in her shoulders tighten.
“Poor me,” her mother sang mockingly, “my mother doesn’t love me. Only my daddy loved me…”
“Mother!” Pain began to throb in her temples.
“…But he died. Wish it had been my momma.”
Kristen was shaking by the time she pulled the car to a stop in front of her small rental house. “I think it would be best if we saved this conversation until after you’ve had a chance to rest.”
“You mean sober up.” Her mother’s laugh cackled loudly, and Kristen winced at the thought of her neighbors watching as her mother swayed and tripped her way into the house. Her breath of relief as the door closed behind them was short lived.
“You’re as uptight as your precious daddy.”
“Go to bed, mother.”
“Go to bed, mother,” she mocked, staring at Kristen with a malicious glint in her watery eyes. “Has that big cowboy of yours taken you there yet?”
“This is not a conversation I’m going to have with you…”
“I thought as much,” her mother continued cruelly. “You wouldn’t know what to do with him even if he asked.”
Kristen braved her mother’s harsh words the way she always had, by keeping her emotions hidden. This time, however, the hurt was deeper because the words held a grain of truth. She’d wondered a million times over the last two weeks what it would be like to truly have Cal’s love and devotion. Her mother was right, though. A man like Calhoun Anderson was certainly out of her league. Still, he’d kissed her tonight like he really cared. And, she was going riding with him tomorrow. That was something her mother couldn’t take away from her. The thought gave her confidence.
“I’ve had enough of your bullshit, mother. Either go to bed and sleep it off or get the hell out of my house.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
IN SPITE OF getting very little sleep, Kristen was up early the next morning, more excited about the day ahead than she wanted to admit. She stood in front of the long mirror hanging on her closet door, trying to decide if s
he needed to change outfits yet again. Not that she had a lot of choices. Her wardrobe consisted of sale items and consignment store purchases. What need did she have for designer gowns now? She wouldn’t be attending any fancy sheng-digs. The once revered Thomas name was now synonymous with poor.
Deciding her outfit of jeans, boots, button down western shirt and leather vest was as good as she was going to get, she turned away and headed to the kitchen. It didn’t escape her awareness that the clothing she had on—sans the boots and black satin and lace underwear set she wore—had been purchased since coming to Devil’s Spur. She was beginning to like—and look like—the little town and the people.
She grinned. Especially certain people.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Sunshine.”
Politely ignoring her mother, whom she’d hoped would still be unconscious in her bed, Kristen stepped around the small table and poured herself a cup of coffee. She took a sip grimacing at the bitter taste. Retracing her steps, she took a seat across from her mother. Lifting the cup, she said, “Thanks for making this.”
For just a second, her mother looked both shocked and pleased at the comment. “It’s just coffee.”
Kristen reached for the cream. “Still, I appreciate it. Saves me time.”
“So is it the love of your job or the love of the cowboy that makes you so anxious to get out the door so early in the morning?”
“I…” Love. Kristen felt the rightness of the word and all that it represented. Yes, it was true that the relationship between them wasn’t real, but that didn’t make what she’d begun to feel for the big cowboy any less genuine. Calhoun had taken her breath away from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. Over the last few weeks, she’d gotten to really know the man behind the scowl and she’d discovered that she more than liked him. Whether anything would come of her burgeoning feelings, she couldn’t hazard to guess. However, even after what had happened with Roger, she found herself willing to take the chance of having her heart broken, to know that true love, for her, could actually existed.
Since meeting Cal, she’d realized that her feelings for Roger had been more about wanting to be in love than actually being there. And when he’d left her, her feelings had been more about embarrassment than hurt. More anger than pain.
Still, she wasn’t ready to admit that to anyone. Let alone her mother.
“Surprisingly, mother, I really like what I do. And I like this place.”
“And Roger? Where does he fit into your new life?”
“Roger?” Surprised, Kristen could only stare at her parent.
“He wants you back, you know. It’s why we came here. He called me in Florida, begging me to help.”
“No.” Kristen pushed from the table, fighting the sensation that the world was closing in on her. “That’s never going to happen.”
Ivy reached for her, and she stepped back, away from her mother’s grasping hand.
“He needs you, Kristen. He’s not going to give up.”
Ignoring her mother’s imploring tone, Kristen simply shook her head as she left the room. Grabbing her purse, she marched to her car, determined to forget about her less than loving parent for a while. Today, all she wanted to think about was Cal.
Calhoun whistled as he walked into the kitchen, already anticipating the time he was going to spend with Kristen. It was a beautiful day for a ride, and the mesa offered not only incredible views but the chance to be totally alone with the woman that had invaded his life in the best way possible. If things worked out the way he hoped, by this afternoon there would be no more ‘pretend’ to their relationship.
“Good morning, Gramps. Pops.” He greeted both men with a wide smile as he walked to the stove. The smell of freshly brewed coffee only added to his good mood. Grabbing a mug from the cabinet, he poured himself a full cup.
“What put that sappy smile on your face, son?” Gramps asked.
“What?” He feigned surprise. “Can’t a man be happy just to wake up in the morning?”
Gramps grunted. “Only if you’ve seen this side of seventy, boy. Now spill.”
Calhoun grinned as he dished himself some of the scrambled eggs and bacon Pops had warming on the stove. He took a seat by the two older men and dug into the food before answering. Once his hunger was partially satiated, he answered, “I’m taking Kristen up to the mesa this afternoon.”
His announcement was met with silence. A look passed between the two men that had Calhoun frowning. “What?”
Gramps cleared his throat. “Now, don’t get your knickers in a twist, but you probably need to just leave that alone.”
“Leave what alone.”
“Kristen. The whole act.”
“Now wait a minute.” Calhoun scowled, unable to believe what he was hearing. Hell, he wasn’t Gabe.
“We appreciate the fact that you’re willing to put up a front to protect her from Gabe’s uninhibited advances—Lord knows we wouldn’t wish that boy on just anyone—but Kristen is a nice girl. We don’t need you to go getting any wild ideas in your head. Otis would kill us.”
Calhoun grunted. If either of his grandfathers knew the wild ideas he’d been having about Kristen, they’d have taken him behind the woodshed days ago. “Look, it’s not...” He stopped and cleared his throat, wondering if he was ready to say out loud what he’d only recently admitted to himself. “It’s not all been about keeping Kristen away from Gabe. She’s…” He fiddled with his coffee cup. “She’s a beautiful woman.”
It was Gramps turn to grunt his disapproval. “She’s also our friend’s niece.”
Cal nodded. “Look, I get that. But I like her. Really like her.” He lowered his head, cursing the red heat that flooded his cheeks much the same way it had as a seventeen-year-old telling his grandfathers he was taking Betty Jean Simpson to the senior prom while attempting to hide from them just what he had planned for afterward.
With his head down, he missed the satisfied grin the two men exchanged.
“Well, son, if that’s the case, all we can say is, be careful.”
“I will.” Calhoun let out the breath he hadn’t been aware of holding, feeling his good mood return. Turning his attention to his nearly empty plate, he finished his breakfast quickly. Rising, he took his dishes to the sink, frowning at the empty stainless steel bowl. “Has anyone seen Gabe this morning?”
“Nope.” Gramps shook his head.
“But we heard him worshipping at the porcelain altar about two hours ago,” Pops supplied with a grimace.
“Puking his guts out, damn his hide.” That was another reason Cal was anxious to see Kristen. How had her mother behaved once they were alone? She’d been snarky last night at Kristen’s expense, and he hadn’t liked it. Not one little bit. Deciding to take some of his anger out on the man who had initiated it, he strode from the kitchen, down the hall, and into Gabe’s room, flinging the door open without bothering to knock. Just as he’d thought, Gabe was out cold on the bed, still fully dressed down to his boots. The thick carpet muffled his booted feet as he crossed the room to the window by the bed. With a swift yank, he opened the curtains, letting the morning light stream in.
“What the hell?” Gabe groused, flinging an arm over his eyes. “Can’t a man get a decent night’s sleep around here?”
“You might if it was night time, brother.” Calhoun kicked the side of Gabe’s bed. “Time to get your ass in gear, macho man. Daylight’s burning.”
“Who died and left you in charge?” Silence fell over the room.
“Mom and Dad, that’s who, moron.”
Gabe groaned and sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed, holding his head in his hands. “Damn it, Cal, I didn’t mean—”
Calhoun sighed, unable to berate his brother for what was an innocent slip of the tongue. “That’s just the problem, Gabe, you never mean anything by what you say or do, yet your actions always have consequences. It’s like you don’t care about anything—not even yo
ur family.”
Gabe didn’t answer, and Calhoun drew in a deep breath. “Look, we love you and want to help you, but you’ve got to get your act together before it’s too late.”
Still no response from the sullen cowboy. Cal sighed. “Pops has breakfast on the stove. I’m going out to work the horses for a couple of hours, and then I’m out of here.”
Gabe groaned as his head started to spin. Lord knew how long he’d be paying for last night’s little bender. “Out of here? I don’t remember seeing any business trips on the calendar?”
“Not a business trip. I’m riding up to the mesa.”
Gabe must have sensed something in Calhoun’s tone because he raised his head, squinting at the bright sunlight flooding his room. He noticed the dust mites floating in the air and realized it had been a while since he’d cleaned. Between Pops, Gramps and the part-time housekeeper, the main part of the house was kept tidy, but each brother was left to take care of his own domain.
“Why are you going to the mesa today? Have there been reports of missing cattle?”
He might give the impression that he didn’t know what was going on, but apparently, Gabe kept a closer eye on the operation of the ranch than anyone knew.
Calhoun grinned. “Didn’t say I was looking for cattle.”
Gabe bent to remove his boots, setting them carefully next to the nightstand. Rising, he began to unbutton his shirt. “You’re taking Kristen?”
Everyone knew that the mesa was where Calhoun went when he wanted to be alone. Gabe couldn’t remember him ever taking a woman there. Damn, that had to mean he was getting serious about the pretty accountant. Was he as serious as Ryder had been about Georgia? If so, that meant another brother was about to leave the fold. In spite of the warmth in the room, ice welled up inside his chest. It was true what he’d told everyone last night. No matter how hard he tried, sooner or later, everyone left.
“Yep, I…”