by Katie Lane
Fun? Did she even know what that was anymore? What a pathetic person she had become. She hesitated for only a moment before she nodded. “All right, but if you end up with crushed toes, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Ty pulled his hat off and slapped it against his thigh. “Yeehaw! We can head out after supper, but you’ll need to drive because I’m all out of gas.” He rested the rake on his shoulder and walked off whistling.
Reba glanced down at Roo and shrugged. “He might not be a perfect prince, but a princess has to start somewhere.”
Chapter Fourteen
Cotton-Eyed Joe’s was a large warehouse on the outskirts of Simple that had once been used to store cotton, but for the last forty-two years had been the best bar in the county. It had a huge dance floor, a stage for local bands, a mechanical bull pit, a couple pool tables, and a punching bag game where a group of men were trying to prove how manly they were.
This was only the third time Val had been to the bar. The first time had been when he was fourteen and had tried to sneak in with the rest of the Double Diamond boys. They’d only gotten to stay for a few seconds before a big bouncer had tossed them all out on their ears. The second time was when he, Holden, Cru, and Logan had been celebrating Holden’s upcoming wedding. Tonight, he was here for one purpose and one purpose only. To find some information on Sam Sweeney.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t going so well.
“Sweeney?” The owner of the bar, an older man named Big Jimbo, shook his head. “Nope, it doesn’t ring a bell. Of course, fifteen years is a long time. A lot of people have passed through this bar.”
“Maybe one of your bartenders would remember him,” Val said.
“Doubtful. The bartender who’s been here the longest is Davy and he’s only been here seven years.”
“Well, thanks for your time.” Val held out his hand.
Big Jimbo gave it a hearty shake. “You’re that famous author fella who’s stayin’ at Dixon’s, ain’t ya? Do you think I could get your autograph on a napkin for my wife? She’s not much of a reader, but she’s a major autograph hound. She’ll chase anyone famous down just to get their signature on whatever she can find in her purse. She once saw that lady that does insurance commercials in an airport in Dallas and we missed our flight so she could get ‘Love, Flo’ written on the inside of a Hershey bar wrapper.” He shook his head. “It can be damned embarrassin’ at times.”
Val laughed. “How about if I drop by an autographed book? What’s your wife’s name?”
“Henrietta. And that would be real nice of you. You head on up to the bar and tell Davy that Big Jimbo said to give you a drink on the house. You should stick around for a while. We’re having a mechanical bull riding competition later tonight. The winner gets a hunnerd-dollar bill.”
“Thanks. I might do that,” Val said, even though he planned to go back to the boardinghouse and try to get some writing done.
He had a change of plans when he walked past the bar and saw Maisy Sweeney sitting there looking forlorn. Her straw cowboy hat sat back on her head and she rested her chin in her hand as she stared off into space. He should’ve kept right on walking. He really needed to get some writing done. But maybe Maisy could give him some information about Sam that would help Linc locate him faster.
“Hey, Maisy.” Val sat down on the barstool next to her.
She straightened and her big brown eyes lit with recognition. “Hey, you’re the guy from the hotel. I’m sorry, I forgot your name. I’ve talked to a lot of people lately and all the names are starting to run together.”
“It’s Val.”
“That’s right. Val Silver—no, Sterling. How’s it goin’?”
“From the way you were looking, I’d say better than it’s going for you. I guess you haven’t had any luck locating your father?”
She sighed. “Not a lick. I’ve even gone to the sheriff, but he hasn’t found anything yet—not that I completely trust the man. He seems a little squirrelly to me.” Obviously, Maisy had good instincts. “And his deputy, while real sweet, seems to be more interested in her hair than in her job. But the sheriff did say that he’ll keep looking into my father’s disappearance even after I’m gone.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, I have to get back on the rodeo circuit.”
The bartender came over to take his order. Once he was gone, Val went back to their conversation. “So you’re a barrel racer.”
She sent him a sardonic look. “Why do men always think girls have to be barrel racers?”
“Umm . . . I just thought . . .”
“I ride broncs.”
He was more than a little surprised. He had never met a female bronc rider.
She laughed. “I left you speechless, did I?” She patted his knee. “That’s okay. I leave a lot of men speechless.”
He would bet she did. She was a feisty little thing with a contagious smile. “Are you planning to enter the mechanical bull riding contest tonight.”
“I’m already entered. I can always use an extra hundred dollars—that, and I like to see arrogant guys’ faces when I whup their butts.”
He laughed. “I might just have to stick around to see that.” The bartender arrived with his beer and Val held the glass up to Maisy. “To women bronc riders and whupping butt.”
She picked up her drink and clinked his glass. “Amen.”
He took a sip of his beer and set it on the bar. “Tell me, what’s it like being a woman in the male-dominated world of rodeo?”
For the next hour, Val sat at the bar sipping his beer and listening to Maisy’s rodeo stories. She kept the stories lighthearted, but it was easy to read between the lines. It had taken a lot of grit and determination to survive gender prejudice and break into the good ol’ boy sport. Occasionally, he slipped in some questions about her childhood. He found out that she had grown up in Odessa with her mother and her mother’s extended family. While it didn’t sound like she’d had a lot, it sounded like she had been happy. Her mother had remarried a truck driver who had once been a bronc rider and that was how Maisy’s love for the rodeo started. She talked fondly of her stepdad, which made Val curious. When she glanced over at his face, she smiled.
“I guess you’re wondering why I’m hell bent on finding a deadbeat daddy who left me and my mama and never looked back when I have a great stepdaddy who loves me like I’m his own.” She shrugged. “I wonder that a lot too. And I can’t say that I don’t feel guilty as hell about it. I haven’t even told my parents I started looking. I don’t want to hurt them or make my stepdaddy feel like he isn’t enough. He is, it’s just that . . . I don’t know. I guess I just need to meet the man who’s part of me.” She glanced over at him. “You know what I mean?”
He hadn’t, but he did now. In her eyes, he could see the need to know where she came from. He would probably feel the same way if he hadn’t known one of his parents. A part of him wanted to tell her the truth about Sam, but the bigger part wanted to start making up stories about what a great guy he was. Val understood now why Chester and Lucas hadn’t told her the truth. He couldn’t do it either. He couldn’t extinguish the hope in her eyes.
“I’m sure you’ll find him.”
She glanced over his shoulder like she had been doing a lot while she talked. “Do you have girlfriend?”
He was a little taken aback by the question. He liked Maisy, but not in that way. “Umm . . . no. I’m not really looking for a girlfriend.”
“Well, you might not be looking for one, but I think you might have one.”
“What?”
“There’s a redheaded gal sitting at that table over there who has been shooting eye daggers at me ever since she walked in and sat down.”
Val swiveled on his stool and glanced around the bar. It didn’t take long to spot Reba’s red hair. Her hair was down tonight. It fell around her shoulders like curling flames. She was looking straight at him and daggers were definitely shooting from h
er bluebonnet-blue eyes. And he understood why. He had no business pointing out her flaws when he had so many of his own. But it was impossible to stand by and let her keep herself locked up in the boardinghouse because she didn’t think she was pretty enough or skinny enough to attract men for anything other than sex.
She wasn’t locked up in the boardinghouse tonight, though. She was here. And she wasn’t alone. She was sitting at a table with the young pup Ty, who looked like he had just won the lottery. The kid was grinning like a fool and staring at Reba like she was a perfect cherry on top of a pile of whipped cream.
The same feeling that had filled Val the other night when he’d stumbled on Ty in the garden, and Ty had stated his intent to try to win Reba’s hand, filled him now. But just like then, he refused to acknowledge it.
He turned back around. “That’s not my girlfriend. She’s the owner of the boardinghouse where I’m staying.”
“Oh!” Maisy jumped up and grabbed his hand. “Then you need to introduce me so I can ask her about my daddy.” Before he could decline, she tugged him off the barstool and over to Reba’s table. For a petite woman, she was damn strong. Once they were standing at the table, she elbowed him in the ribs to make the introductions.
“Reba and Ty, I’d like you to meet Maisy Sweeney,” he said. “Maisy, this is Reba Dixon and Ty Cooper.”
Maisy shook each of their hands exuberantly. “Nice to you meet y’all. Mind if we sit down?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she sat on one of the high stools that surrounded the table. If the expression on Reba’s face was any indication, she wasn’t happy about it. “Val was telling me that you run the boardinghouse, Reba.”
“Yes, I do.” Reba shot Val a mean look. “I love working away in my little tower.”
Maisy grinned. “Hey, after living in an Airstream all year, I’d love my own little castle too. Especially a place as pretty as the boardinghouse. Did you run it fifteen years ago?”
Reba scowled. “I’m not quite that old. My parents and my aunt ran it then.”
“So I guess you wouldn’t remember if my daddy Sam Sweeney ever stayed there.”
Reba glanced at Val and he wondered if she was going to bring up what he had told her about Sam. He should’ve known better. Mad or not, Reba wasn’t the type of woman who would hurt someone’s feelings intentionally. “No, I don’t remember your father ever staying at Dixon’s Boardinghouse.” Maisy’s face fell and with it the annoyance on Reba’s face. “I’m sorry. I heard you were looking for your daddy. I can ask my aunt if she remembers him.”
“I’d sure appreciate it.”
The band started playing a song by Florida Georgia Line and Ty perked up. “Oh, I love this song. Come on, Miss Reba, let’s go.” He hopped up and held out his hand.
Reba looked like she wanted to decline, but then a determined expression settled on her face and she got up and took his hand. Just the sight of Reba’s hand in some other man’s made Val’s stomach tighten. As Ty led Reba away, Maisy laughed.
“Talk about shooting daggers.” She socked him in the arm. “Don’t try to deny it. You two got something going on, don’t you? Or you did. Now she looks like she wants to clobber you over the head with a beer bottle. What did you do to tick her off?”
He told her the truth. “I called her Rapunzel and said she was hiding away in her tower.”
“Well, it doesn’t look like she’s hiding away now.”
He followed her gaze back to the dance floor where Ty was holding her much too close while she tried to match her steps with his. “I didn’t expect her to choose the youngster,” he said more to himself than to Maisy. “I thought she’d choose the older guy.”
“And her being in the arms of an older guy would make you less angry?”
No. Reba being in the arms of Mike wouldn’t have made him less angry. As Ty two-stepped her across the dance floor, he allowed himself to identify the feeling in his gut. Jealousy. Plain and simple jealousy. Except he had no right to feel jealous. He had no claim on Reba. He couldn’t claim her. Claiming Reba would entail more than he was willing to give. But he couldn’t let her choose Ty either. Mike was a much better fit.
He got up and held out a hand. “Would you like to dance?”
Maisy grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” She ignored his hand and led the way to the dance floor.
Val had never been a dancer so it was a good thing Maisy had no problem leading. Still, he had to apologize more than once for stepping on her toes as they circled around to where Reba was dancing with Ty. He started to ask Maisy if it was okay if they switched partners, but she seemed to know what he was up to and winked at him before she tapped Reba on the shoulder.
“Do you mind if I cut in? My partner would like a word with you.” Before Reba could open her mouth, Maisy had taken charge of Ty like she no doubt took charge of a wild bronc and two-stepped him off, leaving Val with an angry looking Reba. Before she could let him have it, he took her in his arms and attempted to two-step her around the floor. It was a pathetic attempt and Reba wasn’t much better. She stepped on his toes as much as he stepped on hers.
“Now I remember why I hate dancing,” she grumbled.
“You and me both. How about if we just give up and do the middle school shuffle?”
“The middle school shuffle?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t remember the middle school shuffle.” He danced them to the center of the dance floor where he shuffled his feet in place as they moved in a small circle.
A smile flirted with her lips before she pressed them together. “I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t asked to dance in middle school.”
“Neither was I. But I paid close attention while sitting in the bleachers.”
“I didn’t even go to the dances.” She paused. “I stayed in my tower.”
He heaved a sigh. “Okay, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t seem to have any filter with you.”
“So that means I’m seeing the real Valentine Sterling? An arrogant man who likes to belittle people?”
“I didn’t mean to belittle you, Reba. I just . . . I like you, okay? And I hate to see you work yourself to death and not get to enjoy life.” Ty and Maisy two-stepped past at a fast clip with Ty giving Maisy a little twirl in-between steps. “Just not with Ty. He’s all wrong for you.”
“Really? And who is right for me?”
He should’ve said Mike seemed like a nice, stable guy who would treat her right. But for some reason, he couldn’t get the words out. Maybe because, at the moment, Val was the one who felt right. There was something about the way they fit together that seemed perfect. Her hand fit perfectly in his and her arm fit perfectly around his shoulders while his arm fit perfectly around her waist. There were a few inches between them, but he knew if he pulled her closer all the softness of her body would fill all the hollows of his. He hadn’t realized how many hollows he had until he met Reba. He hadn’t realized how empty and lonely his life was until she had pinned him with her all-seeing blue eyes. Even now, they seemed to look into his soul.
Where the scared boy continued to hide.
“Mike Daniels seems like a good guy,” he said. “You should be here with him instead of Ty.”
She stopped moving and stepped out of his arms. “You were right. I do need to stop working so much and live a little. But I don’t need any dating tips from a man who doesn’t have much of a life either. I might be living in a tower, but it seems to me that you’re still sitting in the bleachers observing other people’s lives while you take notes for your books.”
Ouch. That hurt. “I’ve lived. I’ve traveled all over the world.”
“And you certainly have exciting stories to tell about the things you saw. But not one of those stories was about what you enjoyed doing while you were in those countries. Nothing about the delicious food you ate, the people you interacted with, the women you fell in love with. I would bet the only time you left your hotel room was to drive to wherever you we
re signing books. If you’re going to start judging people, Valentine, maybe you should start with the person in the mirror.”
Before he could come up with a rebuttal, the song ended and another started and Ty came back to claim her. “Come on, Miss Reba. This one’s slower and will be much easier.”
As they danced away, Maisy moved next to him. “I tried to help you, dude, but if you can’t hang onto your mare once you have her lassoed, that’s your problem.”
Chapter Fifteen
Reba did her best to enjoy the first date she’d been on in years. But as the night progressed, it became harder and harder to pretend she was enjoying herself. No matter how hard Ty tried to teach her, she had two-left feet on the dance floor. When she finally asked if they could just sit down and talk, the date became even worse.
She and Ty had nothing in common. He preferred the new country songs while she preferred the older ones she’d grown up on. He knew a lot about popular television shows and movies, while she didn’t have time for either. She had worked her butt off to succeed in school, and Ty sounded like he had only done enough to get by. If the way he’d raked up the leaves at the boardinghouse was any indication, he still did. He was also a bit of a drinker. In the time it took Reba to drink two margaritas, he’d had six beers.
When they announced that the contestants for the mechanical bull-riding contest needed to report to the pit, Reba became a little concerned.
“Maybe you shouldn’t do this, Ty. You’ve had a lot to drink.”
He waved a hand. “I’m good. You just sit tight, Miss Reba. When I win that hundred dollars, I’m gonna buy you the biggest box of chocolates you’ve ever seen in your life.” The fact that he thought she looked like a girl who would love a big box of chocolates annoyed her. But when he stumbled over a chair on the way to the mechanical bull pit and almost fell, she couldn’t help getting up and going after him. If he couldn’t walk, he certainly couldn’t ride.