Dedication
To the “aunts” Cindy and Christa. Love you both!
Chapter One
She should have known she’d find him like this.
Shelby looked down at the oil-stained driveway to the denim-clad legs protruding from underneath the ancient Ford. The hem of the jeans was frayed, the worn cowboy boots dusty and with a few stains of their own.
She propped her hands on her hips, doing her best not to tap her foot in irritation. It would do no good. If there was one thing she’d learned in her time as Ritt McCoy’s wife, he had his own timetable and to hell with anyone else’s.
“I said, I need to talk to you.”
“And I said, just a minute,” his muffled voice returned.
Shelby bit back a growl and used the thick packet of papers to fan herself. That was one thing she didn’t miss about Texas—the heat. But with any luck and the good Lord’s grace, she’d only be here another few minutes, an hour at the most, and then she’d be on her way back to California.
A trickle of sweat ran down between her shoulder blades and into the small of her back. Shelby fanned harder and checked her watch. She’d been waiting twenty minutes for Ritt to finish whatever it was he was doing to the truck and sign on the dotted line. That was nineteen more than she cared to wait.
“Ritt.”
“Shelby.”
“I need you to sign these.”
“In a minute.”
“Now. I have a plane to catch.”
She jumped back, nearly snapping the heel off one peep-toe pump. They had been a special purchase for this trip along with the form-fitting black dress that hugged her like a second skin. Scrambling to get out of the way, she managed to maintain her balance as Ritt pushed the creeper from under the truck.
And there he was, the boy who stole her heart, took her virginity and married her all in one summer. Well, he’d had her heart for years before that. And he wasn’t a boy any longer; though the years, she grudgingly admitted, had been very kind to him.
“What?” he asked. Even lying down, he looked taller, broader, more. She was glad to have the advantage, standing over him like she was.
“I’m in a hurry.”
“Not my problem.” He disappeared in a quick swoosh back under the truck. But he left his image behind. Dark blond hair curling from under a ratty Longhorns baseball hat. Dirt smeared T-shirt covering a chest she didn’t remember as having quite so many muscles. Long legs, firm lips, square jaw.
“I’ve flown over a thousand miles to get you to sign these. The least you could do is get out from under there and do it.” Her voice rose in pitch, the whine she’d been tamping down rising to the surface. Couldn’t he see how they needed this? That it was time to move forward?
There was a loud clunk, which sounded like head versus oil pan, then a muffled curse.
He rolled out again, and before she knew what had happened he was towering over her. She took a couple of steps back for good measure, unable to meet his blue-gold gaze as he studied her face.
“What is it, Shelby? What is so important that you flew all the way out here to grace me with your presence?”
She was wrong. The years had been more than kind to him, they had outright adopted him. Had he always been this tall? This broad? This…masculine?
He had, she decided. But after seven years away, she had forgotten what a man her Texas boy had been.
She licked her lips, the sight of him bringing back more memories than she cared to delve through. Prom night, at the lake after the baseball games, Saturday afternoon in the canyon…
He raised his brows. “I’m waiting.”
Waiting? “Oh, the papers,” she squeaked. “I need you to sign the divorce papers.”
“You flew all the way here for that?” He picked up a rag and started wiping his fingers on it. Shelby could smell the oil on him, the fabric softener in his shirt and the heat from his body.
“I didn’t think you’d sign them any other way.”
“You didn’t trust me to sign them.” He tucked the stained rag into the back pocket of his Levis and adjusted his hat.
“My attorney has sent them twice now.”
“I lost a set in the move.” He jerked his head toward the house he had lived in his entire life.
Shelby took a deep breath, doing her best to formulate her most persuasive offense. “No problem. I happen to have a set right here.” She pulled the papers from the manila envelope and flattened them against the hood of the truck. They ruffled in the breeze as she dug around in her purse. “And here’s a pen.” She handed it to him triumphantly. She was minutes away from being a free woman. Free of Ritt McCoy and free to move forward.
“Sign, please.” Her words came out confident and true. There wasn’t a waver in her voice, no sign that being this close to him had her tied in knots. He could always do that to her. They brought out the worst in each other. A divorce was for the best.
“I haven’t had a chance to look over them yet.”
“My attorney sent them to you last month.”
He shrugged.
“I need you to sign—”
“I think I should have a chance to read them—”
“I flew all the way out here—”
“I mean it’s only fair—”
“Fair?”
“No one told you to come out here.”
When had he stepped so close?
“Sorry you had to dirty your precious bohemian feet to come to mean old Texas. But I ain’t signin’.”
Shelby took another deep breath. “Why are you being so stubborn?”
He glared at her.
“What do you want, Ritt? A signing bonus?”
Oops. Wrong thing to say.
His eyes narrowed, his jaw ground together, and that good ol’ boy look froze on his face. “Funny thing you should mention that, sugar. ‘Cuz that may be the only thing that’ll get me to sign.” He turned on his heel and stalked to the porch. “Come on, Clyde.” A fat basset hound stood and stretched and followed behind his master. Without a backward glance, Ritt jerked open the door, then he and the dog disappeared into the house.
The wind blew the papers onto the desert-hot driveway. Shelby bent to pick them up, crazy nostalgia nearly choking her. She should have known that seeing him again after so long was a bad idea. She should have known that he wouldn’t make it easy for her. But she hadn’t thought her own emotions would get in her way. This is what she wanted. What she needed. She bit her lip and stared at the front door of the house.
She’d give him a few minutes, then she’d try again. She had plenty of time before she had to get back to the airport. Plenty of time to convince him to sign. Well, it would help if she knew why he wouldn’t sign. It wasn’t like they had a real marriage. They’d only lived together a couple of months. A couple of passionate, turbulent months.
Shelby pushed those memories back and started toward the house. What was done was done. She had gotten pregnant, gotten married and lost the baby. After that, the trouble began. Then her mother met a man from California, and they were off again.
She picked her way across the cobbled walk to the house. Nostalgia hit her again as she stepped onto the porch. How many times had she sat there with Ritt, watching the sun set, drinking lemonade, making out?
She knocked on the door, pulling her composure around her like a cloak. “Ritt. Ritt?”
A grunt sounded from the other side of the green painted wood.
“There’s nothing to look over. It’s a standard, run-of-the-mill divorce. It says we have irreconcilable differences, and we need to part ways.”
“Too busy to deal with this right now.”
She stepped to the large bay window and
peered inside. Ritt sat on the couch, his feet propped up on the magazine-strewn coffee table. He had a beer in one hand.
“You’re not busy.” She resisted the urge to growl at him.
He took a drink of his beer then pulled his hat over his eyes as if gearing up for a nap.
“Come back tomorrow, Shel. Maybe I can look at them then.”
Tomorrow? She didn’t have till tomorrow. She needed this done now. The sooner she had the papers signed, the sooner she could start her new, very respectable life. Well, technically she had started her new life, but it was hard to fully embrace the changes with her failed marriage hanging around her neck like a dead albatross.
“Ritt.” She tapped on the glass, but he didn’t move.
Dang it! Dang his stubborn hide.
She raised her hand to rap on the glass again, but lowered it instead. Now was not the time to be demanding. Not when he held all the cards.
“I’m leaving a set out here. I expect you’ll find time to look them over.” Despite your busy schedule. Her mouth twisted in annoyance. She set the papers on the wooden church pew next to the door and anchored them with a terra cotta pot filled with wilting impatiens. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She managed not to choke on the words, then she turned on her heel and retreated to the rental car.
She’d simply have to go into town and get a hotel room. With any luck, by tomorrow afternoon, she’d be divorced.
Whoever said the line about the plans of mice and men was one smart cookie, but that didn’t help the situation any. By the time Shelby had driven into Amarillo, called the airlines to change her ticket, and called her mother and left a message, she still had hours to kill. The temptation to drive back to Randall and walk around, see how much things had changed and how much they had stayed the same was so strong she almost took her car keys and locked them in the hotel safe. Now was not the time for reminiscing. It was the time to move forward.
Instead, she watched reruns of Friends and ate pretzels from the honor bar. It was no big, she told herself. If Ritt wanted to control this situation she would let him. If that made him feel better, then she could play the game to get what she wanted. Tomorrow she would go back to his house and get him to sign the papers, and that would be the end of that. She would be able to truly start over. Free from Ritt, free from the past. A brand new start…that was exactly what she needed. She mentally dusted her hands of the situation and drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Shelby re-donned her dress, pulling it over the underwear she had thankfully remembered to rinse out in the sink the night before.
Sleeping in the nude felt decadent and sexy. And surely that’s why she dreamt such racy dreams. But to have them be about Ritt…
She had to get out of Texas ASAP.
She’d bought a toothbrush and toothpaste from the vending machine in the lobby. So her teeth were clean. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail in lieu of washing it and scrubbed her body with the hotel-provided soap. Not luxurious by any stretch, but she was clean and ready to face Ritt.
Except he wasn’t at home when she pulled the rental in front of his parents’ house. She drove to the convenience store on the corner. Of course the young clerk there knew Ritt by name, but he hadn’t seen him all morning.
Shelby got back into her car, her only option driving around town until she spotted his truck. It had cost her a whopping three hundred dollars to change to an open-ended plane ticket, so she had the time. Now if she could only find the patience.
Thankfully Randall was the typical one-horse town and fifteen minutes later she spotted the rusted blue Ford in front of the bait shop. Leave it to Ritt to pick now to go fishing. Well, he could just postpone his little trip until she got her signatures. After that, she didn’t give a flip what he did.
She parked the rental in front of the tiny building, shoved it in park, then took a deep breath. Almost over, she told herself. Her heart gave a painful thump. Stupid nostalgia. That was all it was. She grabbed the manila envelope and walked toward the bait shop door.
The interior was cool and dark and smelled like dirt. It shouldn’t have comforted her nerves, but it did. Suddenly she remembered all the times that she and Ritt had come here before heading out to the lake to fish. Well, they usually ended up dropping a line in the water then making love all afternoon, but fishing had been their original intent. She wondered who he was fishing with these days.
She pushed her sunglasses on her head and blinked to adjust to the dim shop.
“Shelby? Shelby Patterson? Is that you?”
She blinked once again and brought the man into focus. “Craig!” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “I haven’t seen you in—”
“Seven years,” came the dry voice behind the counter.
Shelby released Craig and coolly eyed her soon-to-be ex. Ritt stood with his rear propped up on the back counter. He had a bottle of Dr. Pepper in one hand, peanuts floating around the top. Same old Ritt. He wore a bright yellow T-shirt that said, “The Master Baiter” and a pair of disreputable jeans. A barbed wire tattoo peeked out from under the hem on one bicep. That was new.
So Ritt worked at the bait shop. Showed what a bullet she’d dodged. He’d never had any drive other than baseball. Why he never went pro was a mystery for the ages. And yet one more reason he had to sign. Her bakery was hers. She had worked hard to build her reputation from nothing. She’d be damned if she’d let Ritt swoop in and take half of all that she had worked so hard to create.
“It’s tomorrow,” she said, wishing she could stay and visit with Craig. It had been so long since she’d seen him. Since that day she and her mother packed everything in the back of their Volkswagen and headed for California. That day Craig had asked her to stay for Ritt’s sake, had told her that Ritt loved her. She’d replied that if it were the truth he would come after her. He never did.
“I’m busy.” He took a swig of the soda then idly chewed on the peanuts.
“Surely you found time to look over them last night.”
“I did. And stop calling me Shirley.”
She ignored his joke and pulled her copy of the papers out of their envelope. “Then all you need to do is sign.”
He shook his head. “I need to have my attorney look over them. There were a couple of places—”
“Ritter McCoy.” Shelby braced her hands on her hips. “You are making this much harder than it has to be.”
He shrugged.
“What’s going on here?” Craig looked from one of them to the other.
“Oh, a little bit of unfinished business,” Shelby said. Why wouldn’t he just sign? It might be silly of her but the longer she had to wait, the more worried she became that she’d be stuck in Texas forever.
Craig glanced toward Ritt. “What kind of papers?”
“Divorce papers,” her husband said.
“You’ve never gotten a divorce?”
Ritt shook his head.
“Are you serious?”
Ritt shrugged again, and Shelby was certain she hated the motion.
“It never came up.” She turned her attention to Craig. Maybe he could help her get Ritt to sign. Was it such a hard thing to do? “But now that it has, Ritt is being a little…hesitant.” She held out the papers toward Ritt, but he didn’t budge.
“I said I need my attorney to take a look at them.”
“I am your attorney.” Craig took the papers from Shelby. “Let me look these over. I’ll get back to you by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Sorry, I’m booked all day.”
“Tasting cake,” Ritt interjected.
“Last tux fitting.”
Tux? Cake? “You’re getting married?”
Craig nodded. “This weekend.”
“That’s terrific. Anyone I know?”
“Delilah.”
“Simpson?” They were only now getting around to tying the knot?
“Simpson-Jones.”
“Oh.” Shelby nodded. There had been a running pool over who would get married first. She and Ritt or Craig and Delilah. How ironic that Craig and his high school sweetheart were finally getting married when she and Ritt were finally getting divorced.
“If you’re still around this weekend, we’d love for you to come.”
“If I’m still here,” she mumbled. She wanted as far away from Randall as quickly as possible, but she would love to see her two long-ago friends finally find happiness.
“Swing by my office tomorrow afternoon.” He handed her a business card. “Say about three?”
Shelby nodded reluctantly. What choice did she have? She’d book the hotel room for one more night. One more day in Texas was worth the freedom at the end.
“And you—” Craig pointed to Ritt. “I’ll see you at two at Harris’s.”
Ritt hated the mall. But he had promised Craig, and he kept his promises. Unlike some people he knew.
Visions of long, tanned legs flitted through his mind, and he pushed them away. After all these years, Shelby wanted a divorce.
He strolled into the bridal shop and tried not to itch. These places gave him the creeps.
Long white dresses that looked like they were made from moonbeams and stars. They were nothing but expectations, and unrealistic ones at that. Look at him and Shel. They should have made it, but too many things had been stacked against them.
He walked to the counter and gave the black-clad attendant his name. In minutes he was in a dressing room, trying on his best man’s tux.
God, he hated these things. Why couldn’t people just get married? Why did it have to include all the hype and drama? It only made it hurt all the more when it ended.
He shook away the negative thought. Craig and Delilah would make it. They were older now. They had gotten their problems out of the way. The big ones anyway. School, family. Delilah had even married someone else; though Ritt thought she only did it to get back at Craig for focusing on his education instead of her. He pulled a face. Women.
Ritt stepped from the dressing room and headed for the three-way mirrors with the small risers in front.
Blame it on Texas Page 1