“Yeah, well, I think she knows that’s true, but she keeps the bar so high that no one can reach it.”
“Sounds like a lonely way to live.”
“It is. Do you know she’s thirty years old and she’s never been in a relationship until recently?”
“That’s not the norm, but it’s not that unusual. I know this guy . . . Mike . . . who’s almost forty who’s in the same situation,” Ike offered.
“I don’t know whether to feel sorry for them or to commend them.”
“Commend them for what?”
She shrugged. “I’d say for livin’ their life on their own terms, no matter what society says about them bein’ single. They aren’t willing to settle. But the truth is, they’re lucky in that they don’t have other relationship experiences to fall back on when they fuck up.”
“So they can just say . . . my bad? They didn’t know any better when they act like a total asshole?” he said sharply.
“No. That sounded a little defensive.” Riss bumped him with her shoulder. “I’m just saying there doesn’t have to be a cooling-off period. Or a standard amount of time before the person who fucked up can approach the man she hurt and admit she was wrong . . . so very wrong. She let the fear win and that’s not an excuse. It’s not really even an explanation. It’s an embarrassing fact.”
Ike looked Riss in the eyes for the first time since she walked in. “She?”
“I. Me.” She exhaled. “I’m sorry, Ike. I overreacted. I hurt you. I took something that should’ve filled me with as much hope and joy as it did you and turned it into an ugly moment. I want to know how we go forward after this. What I can do to make it right again after I acted so very wrong.”
He must’ve looked as shocked as he felt because Riss kissed his surprised mouth.
“Ike Palmer, I love you. You are the best man I’ve ever known. And it’s killing me that I acted so callous with your feelings. Please give me another chance to prove you can rely on me to be everything you need me to be. Because you are everything to me. I can change. I swear . . .”
“Riss. Baby. Don’t cry.”
“I’m scared that my pride and my big mouth have fucked up the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“It hasn’t.” He curled his hand around the side of her face. “Thank you for tracking me down and apologizing. And I think you’re right in sayin’ that we’re lucky that the first—and only—serious relationship for both of us means we know what we want. I want you, Riss, as you are. I love you as you are. We will figure this out our own way, okay?”
“Okay.” She sniffled. “But I will admit I called my aunt Bernice for relationship advice after you walked out.”
“And what was her advice?”
“Go after him.”
“That’s it?”
She nodded. “She said relationships were like assholes . . . anyone who tells you theirs is pretty and perfect is full of shit.”
He laughed.
“This is the most important relationship I’ve ever had in my life and I’ll do whatever I need to, to make it work. I don’t want to live a single fucking day without you either, Ike.”
“Woman, you can piss me off like no one I’ve ever met.” He wiped away another tear from the corner of her eye. “But I’ve never laughed as much as I do with you. How did I get so lucky that all the passion, humor and beauty that is you, is mine.”
“Good lord, I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to how easily that sweetness drips off your silver tongue, but I sure do like it.” She smirked. “But I do want to one-up you on something, since you one-upped me on saying you loved me first.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to end the truce. As grateful as I am that it led us here, to getting to know each other, we don’t need it.” Riss touched his face. “Goddamn, it pains me to admit this, but talking is much more productive than yelling, but I still prefer yelling because it feels more like me.”
Never a dull moment with this woman. “No more assumptions either.”
“I will try my very hardest not to jump to the worst conclusion first.”
“Me too.” Ike spun the barstool away and then stood back. “Been a helluva day. We fought, made up, confessed our love for each other, agreed to live together and work together . . . all in the past hour.”
“Wait. When did we agree to live together?”
“Uh, darlin’, when you said you didn’t want to live a single fucking day without me either, that pretty much seals the deal on us sharin’ a bed and everything else.”
“Dammit, Ike, how has it come down to deciding where we’ll settle into this couplehood gig? I remember a time when I couldn’t wait to get the hell away from you. When the thought of spending one more minute with you was freakin’ torture. And now . . . the thought of not spending every minute with you puts me in a really foul fuckin’ mood.” She shook her finger at him when he grinned. “Stop that. I’m serious. What super cowboy mojo did you use on me to get me to change my mind about you?”
“They don’t call me Palmer the Charmer for nothin’, sweet cheeks.” He continued to smile at her. “And how many times do I have to remind you that manipulation disguised as goading me won’t work? So tell me what else is on your mind.”
Riss opened her mouth. Closed it. “Fine, you win, I’ve got nothin’ to add because you’ve dealt with everything that’d be a sticking point with me. I wanna move in with you. I wanna have crazy adventures with you on and off the road. I want to make you so stupidly happy that you’ll never leave me.”
“Larissa. I’m too stubbornly in love with you to ever live without you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Good.” She closed the distance between them and twined her arms around his neck. “Because I don’t know if you’re aware that I’m an excellent tracker as part of my Native American heritage. If you leave me, I’ll track you to the ends of the earth and cut out your—”
Ike placed his fingers over her mouth. “I thought we were done with the violence and the name-calling?”
“Sorry. I just wanted to remind you of what you’re getting into with me, Ike. I’ve never been in love, so I might get a little intense with the need to prove it to you every day. And I’m not exactly conventional.”
“Thank god for that.” He rested his forehead on hers. “Can we go home now?”
“Isn’t this where you growl, ‘Now c’mere and gimme a damn hug?’”
“Riss. Baby, look where you are.”
She blinked at him. “What the hell? How’d I get here?”
“This time you came to me, without me havin’ to ask.”
Riss kissed him. “Because now I know this is exactly where I belong.”
Don’t miss how Jade and Tobin’s romance began in
Hang Tough
available now wherever books are sold.
Prologue
Garnet Evans was mashing hulled strawberries in an industrial sieve when her phone rang. Thank heaven for caller ID; when she saw the number—and the time—she knew not to ignore it. She used her teeth to remove her right rubber glove and punched the talk button. “So who’s got a snootful tonight, Sherry?”
“Not who you’d expect, Garnet.” A pause. “Tobin.”
That snared Garnet’s attention real fast. “My Tobin? My word. That boy is always on the straight and narrow.”
Sherry snorted. “He’s hardly a boy.”
“Don’t I know it. What’s going on with him?”
“I’ve never seen him like this. He’s just so . . . sad. It’s breaking my heart.”
Garnet slumped against the wall and closed her eyes. For the past six months she’d had a heavy heart too, watching the changes in Tobin, and not liking them one bit.
“Now he’s here
at the Buckeye trying to drown his sorrows.”
“Oh lordy, that’s not good.”
“Not good at all. And because I know you and Tobin are close, Garnet, I’m gonna break a confidence.” Sherry paused. “Normally you can’t pry this stuff out of me, but it’s important you know where his head is before you come and pick him up.”
“Hit me with it.”
“Tobin plans to give notice at the Split Rock Ranch and Resort tomorrow. He’s made up his mind. He’s ready to move on, out of Muddy Gap for sure, maybe even Wyoming altogether.”
“How far has he slipped down the bottle tonight?”
“He’s not stumbling or picking fights. He’s just melancholy and has had too much to drink to drive.”
“Get his keys.”
“Already got ’em.”
“Can you keep him parked on that barstool another thirty minutes? I’ve gotta call in reinforcements. Lord knows that boy will need to have his truck to go to work tomorrow so we can’t leave it at the bar.”
“No more than thirty minutes,” Sherry warned.
“Don’t you worry. I’ll be there with bells on before that thirty-minute mark.”
Sherry laughed. “Knowing you, Miz G, I’m taking the bells comment literally.”
Chapter One
One week later . . .
Tobin Hale’s cell phone rang for the hundredth time, tempting him to chuck it in the garbage disposal.
So far he’d ignored Tilda’s call, Bernice’s call, Vivien’s call, and Miz Maybelle’s call. When Pearl’s name flashed on the screen, he knew better than to ignore it.
“Hey, Pearl-es-cent, what’s the 411?”
“So your phone isn’t broken, you’re just screening our calls?” she demanded.
“Yes, ma’am. Shit has hit the fan over here and I ain’t in the mood to talk to nobody.”
“Well the same thing has happened over here at Garnet’s house.”
Tobin sipped his beer. “She’s mad that I gave Renner notice last week, isn’t she?” Now that he thought about it, it was sorta weird Garnet hadn’t called to give him what for.
“Of course she’s upset. But there’s loads more going on than that.” There was a shifting noise on the other end of the phone. “Her son is making good on his threat to lock her away where she can’t get into trouble,” Pearl whispered. “Don’t you remember?”
“Pearl, she was blubbering so damn hard I could barely understand anything she said.” Total chaos had erupted inside the lodge when all of the Mud Lilies ladies had shown up.
And he had had his own shit to deal with.
How fucking . . . coincidental that Hugh, the ranch foreman, had decided to lay it all out on the line for their boss, Renner Jackson—on the exact same day Tobin had given his notice. But Hugh had thought ahead and offered to buy the rodeo stock contracting business outright. Great for Hugh, it’d be great for Renner in the long run, but in the short term, that meant Tobin got stuck with doing all the day-to-day work. Again. He’d tried not to be bitter, but dammit. Nothing ever seemed to go his way.
Not true. You found out today you have a job interview in Albuquerque in three weeks.
Finally. Tobin felt as if he’d been in a holding pattern. No one knew that he’d updated his resume and started sending out job applications—two months ago. He considered it a sign he was on the right track the day after he’d given notice to Renner when he’d had an e-mail from one of the places he’d applied, requesting more information on his positions as “reproductive project manager at the Split Rock Ranch” and “genetic research development coordinator for Jackson Stock Contracting.” Yeah, maybe he’d stretched his job titles a tad, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have the education and the hands-on experience to back it up. And it had scored him an in-person interview.
“Tobin? Are you listening?” Pearl demanded.
Feeling guilty for tuning her out, he said, “Sorry. You lost me there for a moment. Could you please repeat that?”
“Her son finally has enough ‘just cause’—in his mind anyway—after the last couple of Garnet incidents to question her mental stability and her ability to take care of herself. He’s sending a moving van to pack up her house and he’s put a deposit down at one of those assisted living places”—she sniffled and wailed—“in Cheyenne!”
That garnered his full attention. “What? He can’t do that.”
“Yes, he can. He’s a big-time New York City lawyer. He can do whatever he wants. And ever since Garnet found out, she’s been completely nonsensical, which just plays perfectly into his evil and greedy hands.”
“Where are all of you right now?”
“Me and Garnet are at her house. She’s been making strawberry preserves like she’s putting up food for a Russian winter. For an army. Why she’d think them tough military guys would even want fancy fruit spread on their toast rations doesn’t make a lick of sense to me, but she keeps insisting that no man is too manly—”
“Pearl. Focus,” Tobin said sharply.
“Oh. Sorry, Tobin. I don’t have a contingency plan for this.”
Things were messed up if organized drill sergeant Pearl was scatterbrained.
“Stay put.” Tobin’s boots hit the floor. “I’m on my way over.”
* * *
* * *
Garnet’s place was only fifteen minutes from the Split Rock Ranch and Resort. Sometimes when Tobin worked in the back forty of the ranch, it was closer to drive to Garnet’s for lunch than head back to the office.
A tree-lined driveway led to the two-story house. The style wasn’t Victorian, but a few years before he’d come to work at the Split Rock, Garnet had redone the exterior of the house in that “gingerbread style,” which she’d taken literally. The house resembled something out of Hansel and Gretel’s nightmares—each corner had a pastel theme with what looked like icing dripping down. But the décor fit Garnet’s unique and quirky personality.
She had kept the big yard natural grasses, rather than a manicured lawn. At one time there’d been cattle on the nearly one hundred acres, but not since she’d owned it.
He parked next to Pearl’s Range Rover, taking the steps two at a time. He knocked briefly on the screen door before he stepped inside.
Immediately the sweet scent of strawberries hit him. “Garnet?” he called out.
No response.
But Pearl poked her head over the swinging “saloon” doors that separated the kitchen from the dining room. “In here.”
Tobin pushed through the doors and stopped in his tracks. Chaos wasn’t unusual around Garnet. But this? This was insanity.
Garnet had two pails of strawberries on the floor. Across the room on the counter were pint jars of preserves. Stacked three high. In rows of ten.
Four rows of ten.
“Garnet?”
She whirled around. “Tobin! No time to talk, sonny. As you can see I’m busy, busy.” She pointed to the opposite counter. “But help yourself to some champagne. It’s the good stuff.”
“Why don’t you take a load off for a few minutes and have a glass with me.” Tobin glanced over at Pearl. “You too.”
Garnet squinted at Tobin and sighed. “Try harder to convince me, boy. You didn’t even whip out them dimples. Go on, give me that charming smile.”
Tobin laughed. “You are such a bossy Bessie.”
“Only in my own kitchen. Everywhere else I’m as docile as a baby lamb.”
Pearl snorted.
“We’re breaking out my mother-in-law’s hoity-toity crystal for this.” Garnet sported a lemon yellow rhinestone-bedazzled do-rag. Her apron, pants and arms were coated in strawberry juice and pulp. She had sugar around her nose and across her upper lip as if she’d been sniffing cocaine.
“I’ll get the glasses,” Pearl said. “Tobin, you snag a bottle of
the cold champagne from the fridge. We’re not drinking the warm crap.”
In a stage whisper after Pearl left the kitchen, Garnet said, “She’s the bossy Bessie.”
“I heard that.”
The next moment Garnet was right in his face. “I’m really mad at you, Tobin Hale. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were giving Renner notice and leaving your job.”
“But I did mention it last month. Don’t you remember me saying I’d been considering it?”
“Oh pooh. I’m old. I can’t remember everything. Anyway, I hope you’ve applied to places in Cheyenne. I guess that’s where I’m moving. At least we’ll still see each other sometimes.”
He frowned. “Since when are you moving to Cheyenne?”
Garnet flopped down on a kitchen chair. “It’s not a move out of choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
“Not according to my son. He says I’m incapable of living on my own. He’s hired professionals to pack my stuff up. I don’t know when he plans to sell the house. But it won’t matter because I’ll be gone. Playing tiddlywinks in the assisted living place until I’m actually gone for good.” She ducked her head to hide her face.
Where did Garnet’s son get off meddling in his mother’s life and making her cry? As far as he knew, neither the man nor anyone in his family had ever set foot in this house. “Miz G, can you listen to me for a moment?”
She nodded and dried her cheeks with the only clean corner of her apron.
“No one can drive you out without your consent. And if a moving van shows up, you call the sheriff and have him arrest anyone who puts a toe on your front porch. You hear me?”
“Easier said than done. I’m just a little old lady living out in the country by herself. The moving van guys could knock me out and get all my stuff loaded while I’m lying in the gravel drooling. It’d be their word against mine. They could claim I fell and hit my head and I don’t remember what was said. Shoot, they could even say I invited them in. If I argued that I didn’t, well, that’d give my son more reason to have me declared mentally unfit to care for myself.” Garnet put her sticky hands on Tobin’s arm. “I don’t wanna leave here and move to a place where I don’t know anyone. Am I really so bothersome just being in this house living my life?”
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