Last Chance Cowboy

by Leigh Riker

  It was easier to see that her face appeared to be dead white, a striking contrast to the room’s dim light, and her usually well-styled hair straggled around her face. “Jen. Are you sick?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Heartsick.” She waved a hand. “Come in. I have something to tell you.”

  Shadow’s pulse tripped in maternal alarm. “Ava’s all right, isn’t she?”

  “Of course. After she left for school, I went back to bed and tried to sleep...”

  Shadow touched the back of her hand to her sister’s forehead. No fever. She hadn’t heard a cough or sneeze. Heartsick, she’d said. What could be wrong? “Why didn’t you call me if you don’t feel well? Or say something when I phoned this morning? I would have come sooner.”

  Jenna turned back into the slate-tiled entry and, to Shadow’s surprise, she was barefoot—she hadn’t seen Jenna without shoes since they were girls. She walked into the vaulted family room that looked out onto the pool. By this time of day, Jenna would normally be dressed, usually in a perfectly matched outfit, and wearing makeup even if she didn’t intend to leave the house. The wide glass patio doors had been fully opened, leaving seamless access between house and outdoors.

  Ava must love this. Really, her child had spent the past three years surrounded by luxury, not to mention Jenna’s constant, loving attention. Shadow couldn’t argue with that, and at times she felt even guiltier for wanting to take Ava from what must seem to her a perfect place. Shadow couldn’t disagree; she’d enjoyed the time she’d spent here, too. But it wasn’t her house and Ava belonged with Shadow. She heard the pump come on and water gently lapped against the pool’s concrete apron, occasionally splashing onto the expensive patio. An Italian craftsman had laid the custom tiles. The water’s crystal-clear surface sparkled in the sun.

  When Jenna collapsed onto the nearest chair, Shadow noticed she was still wearing her cashmere robe. Now she was weeping into her hand.

  “David left me.”

  For a moment Shadow was speechless. She and Jenna had grown up with parents who rarely agreed on anything except forcing Shadow’s decision to leave home at seventeen.

  “You and David? I’ve never seen you say a mean word to each other.” As if this couldn’t be true. Maybe she’d been right and he had put his foot down about Jenna’s wish to adopt Ava. Shadow wouldn’t raise that issue.

  Eyes closed, Jenna dropped her head against the seat back. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “In the past year or so we’ve fought a lot. Then last night—” She took a shaky breath, the words tumbling out. “He’s moving to Salt Lake to his company branch office.”

  “A girlfriend there?”

  “I don’t think so. That’s not David,” Jenna murmured with a rueful smile. “He’s all about becoming partner, but he didn’t make it recently, and I’m guessing when they offered it to someone else, he fell apart. Now he hopes to prove himself in Utah, and apparently I’m in his way.” She added, “Ava, too, he said, or words to that effect.”

  Shadow had guessed David would be against an adoption. Yet to make such an announcement then leave Jenna to sweep up the pieces? No wonder she looked like the shocked victim of some accident.

  She was half sobbing. “My hopes to become a mother, and all those in-vitro attempts, were the breaking point for him, he said. Or maybe that was just his excuse. But he’s not coming back, Shadow.” On the last words, Jenna’s voice broke again. “I spent all last night going over our finances, and, of course, I had to marry a lawyer. Who knows what kind of settlement he’ll try for?”

  “You misjudged him, that’s all. You trusted him.”

  “Guilty,” she said, removing her hand from her forehead to give Shadow a grim smile. “I’m just waiting to be sentenced.”

  Her attempt at dark humor made tears well in Shadow’s eyes, too. Jenna’s voice sounded thick. Of all their sisters, she and Jenna had always been closest to each other, and Shadow’s heart hurt for her. “Stop beating yourself up. We’ll figure this out.” She sat beside Jenna in the oversize chair and gathered her into her arms. Her sister’s last bit of strength seemed to dissolve and she clung to Shadow, openly sobbing now.

  “Shh, it’ll be okay.”

  “How—how did you manage back then? After Grey shot Jared? When you learned you were pregnant? Mama and Daddy didn’t help you at all. You must have felt totally alone in the world. I know I do right now.”

  “I did, at first. But then I had Ava. We had each other,” she said. And that was why she’d come to see Jenna, but Shadow wouldn’t bring that up now, just as she’d been unable to tell Grey that they had a child that day at the diner after he’d lost his loan.

  “It’s the last day of school.” Jenna glanced at the mantel clock then toward the front door. “She should be home by now, but she’s probably at the bus stop talking with her friends.” Jenna straightened. “I don’t know how—or if—I can stay in this house. If I’ll be able to afford the mortgage.”

  “I understand how you feel. We had so little as kids, Jen. We never knew where our next meal was coming from or a new pair of shoes.” Shadow glanced down at her latest purchase, a pair of rope-soled wedges she already loved. “You had a right to enjoy your freedom from worry. But let’s not panic. David will work out a settlement with you, your assets will get divided and you’ll be fine.” Eventually, she thought, but there was no need to remind Jenna that she was in for some even rougher times before her life settled down again.

  Jenna had bigger problems than Shadow—uncertainty about her future among them—and worse, her heart was broken. Her spirit, too, at the moment. “I’m worried about you, though. You shouldn’t be alone here. Why don’t I go upstairs to pack a few things for you and Ava? You can stay with me as long as you want.”

  “You have two bedrooms. Where would we all sleep?”

  Shadow had thought the same thing about her mother’s situation, offering the spare room for a few nights. She squeezed her sister’s hand. Right now, Jenna was even more desperate. “You must have forgotten how we all used to bunk together as girls. Ava can have the room I’ve done for her. You and I can share my king.” She tried a small joke, hoping to cheer her. “That is, if you don’t steal all the covers.”

  “No, Shadow. I want to be in my own house—for now.”

  She passed a hand over Jenna’s uncombed hair to smooth it, to let her know she was there for her. Jenna clasped her hand and squeezed, then Shadow planted a kiss on her cheek. They didn’t need more words. When she rose, she heard the click of the front door opening before it closed again.

  Ava bounded into the room. When she saw Shadow, she stopped.

  “What are you doing here? It’s not Friday.”

  “I came to see Aunt Jenna—and you.” Shadow went toward her for a hug, but Ava tossed her backpack into the hall closet then spun around to Shadow, her blue-green eyes angry.

  “Ava, I heard what you said last time, at the ice cream store. I haven’t been around enough. I’m sorry. That’s why I came—to spend more time with you.And we can talk. Maybe you could put on a swimsuit and show me what you’ve learned in the pool. I’ll borrow one from Jenna.”

  “It’s not your pool.”

  “You can tell me all about school,” Shadow continued, as if she hadn’t heard the slight.

  “Shadow doesn’t know about your end-of-year field day,” Jenna said. When Ava had come in, school papers trailing from her backpack and fluttering to the entry-hall floor, Jenna had quickly dried her eyes, running a hand through her unkempt hair.

  “She doesn’t want to know.” Ava studied Jenna then frowned. “Why are you still in your robe?”

  “I’m not feeling well today,” Jenna said.

  “You’re sick?”

  “Just a bit under the weather.” She managed a smile. “Don’t worry.”

/>   Shadow said nothing. She had to face the truth: her sister had a better relationship with Ava than she did. Shadow’s fault, mostly because of the agency this past year. Her throat tightened. “Ava...”

  The girl turned and stomped up the stairs.

  Jenna murmured, “Oh, Shadow.”

  “Yes. I know.” For another moment she stayed in the hallway, afraid Jenna would see her unshed tears and start to cry all over again. She had stepped back into the family room when the sun suddenly struck light off the swimming pool right into her eyes. Shadow blinked at the starburst.

  With Jenna in this condition, exhausted from crying and wrapped up in her problems with David, how could Shadow leave Ava here? Ava had only started to take swimming lessons a few months ago. What if she slipped on the patio, fell into the water and Jenna wasn’t around to see or to help? Jenna wasn’t herself at the moment, and who knew how long she’d be in this state? Shadow didn’t want her sister to be burdened with having to care for Ava. Jenna needed time for herself.

  This wasn’t the beginning Shadow had hoped for to repair her relationship with Ava, but she didn’t see another option. She marched into the hall and followed Ava up the stairs.

  Now she knew for sure that Jenna hadn’t lied.

  Ava really didn’t want anything to do with her.

  * * *

  AVA HEARD THE knock on her bedroom door. Her throat tightened.

  “Come in,” she finally called, already dreading what her mother might have to say.

  She walked in and took a look around. Her mom had only seen her room once since Ava and Aunt Jenna had redecorated a few weeks ago, painting the walls a soft blue and taping up boy-band posters and one of Tim McGraw in a cowboy hat that announced his new country tour. Sometimes she pretended he was her father. There were a few framed awards from school. Everything else was green and white and that same shade of blue. Aunt Jenna had let her pick all the colors.

  Ava sat on her white spindle bed studying some papers in her lap. One of them was her report card.

  “I’m in fourth grade,” she announced. “I forgot to show Aunt Jenna.”

  Her mom tried a smile. “I can’t believe how fast this has happened. I still think of you in kindergarten. Or even as a baby.”

  “Well I’m not. I’m almost ten,” Ava said.

  When her mother eased down onto the bed beside her, Ava shifted away. “I understand how you feel, sweetie, but sometimes things happen that even adults can’t cope with very well. Your aunt Jenna feels that way today. She’s going to be okay, but at times we have to make decisions that might be hard to understand.”

  “You think I’m a baby but I’m not. I heard her crying. I saw Uncle David put his bags in the car then drive away. Are they getting a divorce?”

  “I think so, yes.” Her mother cleared her throat. She gestured toward the closet. “Why don’t you pick out a few things you really like to wear? I’ll help you pack and we can buy new summer things tomorrow.”

  Ava glanced up. “Why?”

  “I’m taking you home with me,” she said, as if that was obvious. “I wasn’t going to do this today, not so soon, but I think it’s best.”

  Ava disagreed. “I already said I don’t want to go with you.”

  Her mother craned her neck to look at the pool outside. The sun bounced off it and sent bright, wavering reflections onto Ava’s ceiling.

  “You have to come with me, Ava. You can’t stay here.” She made her voice tempting. “We can make pizza tonight.”

  Ava loved pizza, but all she could think of was when she’d had to pack up before, when she was six, to move here from Kansas City. And of leaving her best friend. “Do you have pets at your house?”

  “No, but it’s our house. Do you think we should we get one?”

  “A dog,” Ava said, picking at a spot on her knee. “Everybody should have a dog but Uncle David says he’s allergic. I’d name my dog Shrek.” She thought for a moment. “Or maybe Anna, if it was a girl. Like in Frozen.” She didn’t need to explain. She’d watched that movie with her mom and Aunt Jenna a dozen times. “Would you really buy a dog?”

  She was testing her mother.

  “I might. I hadn’t thought about getting a pet. With Mother Comfort I rarely get home before seven o’clock, which wouldn’t be fair to an animal unless we adopted an older one that didn’t need much activity, a dog or cat that might be content to lie around, keep us company and be there for you. We can talk about that.”

  She stood to open the closet door. Her mom’s agency had a weird name that somehow made Ava feel left out. “Bring pajamas and things to wear to camp,” her mother said. “I can sign you up for something at the community center.”

  Ava didn’t like that idea, but she got off the bed and padded barefoot over to the closet. Frowning, she caught her mother staring at her feet. Ava’s toenails were half painted, some a shiny bright green, others with the enamel flaked off and almost gone. For her and her friends, it was a fashion statement.

  Her mother didn’t seem to agree.

  * * *

  HOPING TO FIND answers about Jared Moran’s death, or at least some clue, Grey parked his truck in front of the hardware store. He couldn’t rely on Finn. After their talk yesterday, Grey doubted he’d ever question Shadow’s brother again, or his friend.

  But for ten years Grey had felt isolated by blame, from others and within himself. It had only gotten worse since Shadow came home and he’d learned he had a child. He couldn’t remain in this limbo if he was to build a relationship with his daughter, Jared’s niece. Grey hoped to meet her soon—as an innocent man. How could he enter her life if he was really guilty of murder?

  Grey passed the window displays filled with garden tools and sacks of fertilizer and grub-control products and opened the door to the upstairs apartments. One was rented to Derek’s friend Calvin Stern.

  Grey knocked on his door. Calvin answered, blinking against the rush of light from the stairwell, though it was far less bright in here than outdoors at noon. Seeing Grey on the step, he recoiled.

  “What do you want?”

  “I have a few questions. I hope you might be able to shed some light.” Clearly, he remembered Grey, who didn’t explain the purpose of his visit before Calvin shrugged one shoulder, inviting him in. Either he had nothing to hide or he was too wasted to care.

  Calvin looked as if he’d had a long, hard night. Which didn’t surprise Grey. He and Derek Moran had twin reputations for partying, if not much else. Grey suppressed a twinge of sadness. Derek might give him the business now and then, as he had over the parking incident, but he was still Shadow’s little brother. Grey tried to keep that in mind. He and Shadow already had enough tug and pull between them. But Derek made Grey even more grateful for his only sister. Olivia could frustrate him at times, but Grey loved her with all his heart.

  Still, at least Calvin was trying to make something of his life. After Jared’s death, he’d enlisted in the army. He’d come back to Barren only months ago, when he’d been discharged, and Grey had heard he was now working part-time at the hardware store downstairs.

  Once Grey was inside the apartment, Calvin thrust out his unshaven jaw. “I didn’t have anything to do with that fight at Rowdy’s bar last night, Wilson. You’re not Finn Donovan’s deputy now, are you?”

  “No.” He didn’t care how he and Derek spent their nights—except for that one night when Jared had died. “I’m here on my own.”

  Grey took in the small living area, which contained a couch and matching chair, the upholstery worn but unstained, a scarred wooden coffee table littered with bottles and a pizza box, and a shabby rug in faded primary colors on the floor. He reminded himself that Calvin, like Derek, was still in his midtwenties, not that long out of high school. Long enough, though. “Let’s clear up
a few things,” he said. “About Jared Moran.”

  Calvin had lost his deer-in-the-headlights expression, presumably since Grey had put him at ease about had happened at Rowdy’s. He met Grey’s gaze head-on. “Have a seat.”

  Grey remained standing. “I need to refresh my mind, maybe get another take on that night. Cal, you were there when he got shot.”

  Calvin’s eyes flashed, yet they didn’t meet Grey’s gaze. “When you shot him!”

  “Nobody has proved that.”

  “The sheriff said the gun was like the one your father owned.”

  “If so, where is it? My dad said his pistol had already been missing from the gun safe in his office for months. Jared brought a gun with him. The only other people there that night were you and Derek. One of you must know what happened.” And who really pulled the trigger.

  Calvin tensed. “I gave my statement. So did Derek.”

  Grey could guess how Derek had related the incident to make himself look blameless. “I won’t ever forget the scuffle over that gun. When Jared came at me, Derek tried to stop him—but, if my memory’s right, you stepped back. You must have had a better view of what went on.”

  “You bet I got out of the way. Scared,” Calvin said. “I was shaking in my boots. Three guys fighting over a loaded weapon?”

  “You must have seen everything from that different angle.”

  “I saw the three of you wrestling for control of the gun. Then it just went off—bang—and Jared fell. It all happened fast. In a second or two, just like I told the sheriff at the time.”

  “Then afterward, what? The gun disappeared. Someone knows where it went that night. And why it’s never been found.”

  Calvin shifted his stance, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his low-slung jeans. “I couldn’t say. Never liked guns, even when my daddy took me out hunting. I always ended up behind the biggest tree trunk I could find. I’ve been a disappointment to him all my life.” He shrugged again. “I hate the sound of gunfire—yeah, even though I was in the army. Worked a desk. So don’t look at me. I never touched that gun.”