The Cowboy's Texas Twins

by Tanya Michaels

  “Hadley the Cannon!”

  Managing not to wince at the moniker, she turned toward a cluster of women she’d played softball with—Heather, Maisie, Lorina and Pris. The latter two still lived in the county, but Hadley hadn’t seen the others since the day they’d signed her cast after senior year. There were hugs all around—although they had to hug Lorina from the side because she was heavily pregnant.

  Maisie, who’d traveled from Arizona to be at the reunion, eyed the baby bump. “You aren’t going to deliver here, are you? Did any of our graduating class go into obstetrics?”

  Lorina laughed. “I look about fifteen months pregnant, don’t I? But he’s not due for another six weeks.” She turned to Hadley. “You and I haven’t seen much of each other since I moved to Turtle, but I’d love for you to come to the baby shower.”

  Hadley nodded. “Email me the date and time, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I haven’t seen much of any of you,” Maisie said, pouting. “I have friends in Arizona, but I miss my girls! Are Angel and Brighton coming tonight?”

  “Angel, yes,” Lorina said. Her expression turned somber. “But Brighton just lost her mom.”

  A hush fell over the group, and Hadley felt a rush of sympathy for her friend. She shivered as she thought about her own mother. How different would life be if Wanda hadn’t survived that stroke? It was too horrible to contemplate. The EMTs told Hadley that her 911 call had helped save her mother’s life. After a stroke that massive, immediate emergency care was critical. What if I hadn’t been with her? Hadley’s dad had been on a fishing trip, and Leanne had been living out of state at the time. If she’d moved away to college as planned, started a new life outside of Cupid’s Bow...

  Conversation slowly turned to lighter topics, from jobs to long-ago antics on the team bus. Lorina’s husband approached to ask if she wanted to get off her feet for a bit, and they began scouting for a table with empty seats.

  Heather was looking around when she stopped and let out a low whistle. “He must be one of the significant others in attendance because I feel like I’d remember if he’d gone to school with us.”

  Hadley followed her friend’s gaze and did a double take at the sight of Grayson in a pair of black jeans, a white button-down shirt and a black suit jacket that emphasized his broad shoulders. “Grayson,” she breathed.

  “You know him?” Maisie asked. “I guess that’s a stupid question, since he’s coming right for you.”

  It was true. His eyes had locked on her, and while he wasn’t exactly rushing through the crowd, his stride was purposeful as he made his way toward her. She couldn’t read his expression from this far away, but her heart fluttered. Had he come tonight because of her? Was he here to apologize again? He could have done that by phone without getting dressed up.

  Although, those jeans and that jacket could be considered a strategic move. It would be difficult for a woman to push him away looking like that.

  Did she want to push him away? She was still angry, but she didn’t hate him. He’d had a tough childhood and he’d made some horrible decisions.

  But he hadn’t let it define his whole life. He was a responsible adult now, not a surly teen. She’d seen how fantastic he was with those boys, and he didn’t have to go around town changing lightbulbs and gifting bird feeders. That was his conscience at work, his willingness to atone. If he could put aside a troubled past, was he worth another chance?

  Make up your mind quick. Because he’d reached her.

  “Hadley. You look beautiful,” he said hoarsely.

  She was too emotionally conflicted to know how to reply. “Grayson, these are some of my softball buddies. Heather, Maisie, Lorina, Pris. You guys remember Grayson Cox?”

  He smiled at her friends. “Would you ladies mind if I steal Hadley for a few minutes?”

  Heather leaned forward and whispered loudly, “Hadley, go dance with him before I do.”

  From the surprised expression on Grayson’s face, Hadley knew he hadn’t come over here to ask her to dance. He’d probably intended for them to talk in some secluded corner. But maybe it was time to actually participate instead of isolating himself on the sidelines like he had when they were in high school.

  “Let’s dance,” she told him, a note of challenge in her voice.

  His eyes widened fractionally, but he nodded.

  It wasn’t until they’d almost reached the dance floor that she realized how slow the song was and regretted her bravado. But then his arms slid around her, pulling her close, distracting her from second thoughts.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said.

  “I need to find Reggie George and apologize.”

  She was so startled she almost tripped over his feet. It was absolutely the last thing she’d expected him to say. “But you can’t stand Reggie.”

  “I can’t stand myself. I can’t stand what I did. Or that I hurt you.” His hold on her tightened protectively, as if he was trying to stop her from falling ten years too late. “I’m sorry that I can’t change who I was a decade ago, but I can do my damnedest to be better. Apologizing to Reggie is part of that.”

  He was going to take the high road with a guy who’d allegedly tormented him for years? Because he’s a good man. The shell of anger around her heart cracked a little.

  “I’m also here because I need to talk to you,” he admitted. His eyes were pools of emotion; she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had looked at her so intently. “But, to tell you the truth, I still haven’t figured out what to say.”

  “Maybe I can help. I did a lot of thinking last night.” And all day today. Given how preoccupied she’d been while shelving books, the next few weeks at the library would be like a wacky scavenger hunt. “Neither of us will ever know where I’d be right now if I hadn’t lost my scholarship.”

  He flinched.

  “But I know where I am now, and I like it here. I love my job, and I’m imminently grateful I was with my mother when she had her stroke. With a severe brain-stem stroke, every minute counts. If she’d been alone and unable to call 911...” Her voice broke, and he cradled her closer, offering warmth and silent support. It felt indescribably good, so she leaned into him.

  “I know you never intended to hurt me. What you did was lousy, but...” She craned her head, meeting his eyes. “I forgive you.” She brushed a quick kiss across his cheek.

  When he sucked in a breath, she felt suddenly shy.

  “I, ah, hope that wasn’t out of line,” she murmured.

  “Are you kidding? Hitting me with your car would have been out of line. But understandable. What you just gave me was an incredible gift.” He slid his thumb over her bottom lip.

  How could just the pad of his finger elicit so much sensation?

  “I’ll try to be worthy of it,” he promised.

  “I know you will. And I can help you on your quest! I’ll be like your sidekick.” She said it lightly, but he didn’t return her smile.

  “Quest is a heroic term.” He looked away. “I feel more like a coward than a hero. Do you think if I flat-out told people about the things I did that it would hurt Violet’s standing in the community? Or that it could affect the boys?”

  She was quiet, considering her neighbors. Some of them held grudges. “It’s hard to predict how people would react, and apologies aren’t tangible. I think you’re on the right track with the lightbulbs and bird feeders. They may be small acts of atonement, but they’re actual, palpable ways of improving someone’s day. And I know the community better than you do. I can point you in the direction of people who could use a boost.”

  “Like Ashley, the little girl who wants to go to Space Camp.”

  “And Sandra Feller.”

  He cocked his head, as if trying to place the name. “Didn’t the kids call her Sandra Flower when we were growing
up?”

  “She was the longest running president of the Cupid’s Bow Gardening Society, but she stepped down when she started chemo. She’s finished with treatment now, but her yard’s more barren than it’s ever looked. Maybe we could plant a rosebush or something. Mr. Weber used to drive to the tiny German bakery in Hotzler once a month to get lebkuchen spice cookies like his mother used to make. He’s getting too old to make the trip, but the bakery doesn’t ship. And someone should do something nice for Mr. Garcia.”

  “Ned Garcia?” At her nod, he asked gingerly, “Is there...is he sick or something?”

  “No, but he must be so lonely. His business partner and his wife are both dead now. His only son joined the army and was killed in the Middle East. Ned is such a nice man.”

  “That’s what Vi said, too.” A moment later, he added, “And she may be a better judge of character than you.”

  She heaved a sigh. “Because I dated Reggie?” She thought he’d moved past this.

  “No, because you think I’m an okay guy.”

  “You’re more than okay.”

  “See?” He grinned, his dimples making her heart do a little somersault. “You’re a terrible judge of character.”

  * * *

  GRAYSON STOOD NEXT to Hadley while she discussed careers with some of her former teammates. For the most part, he was counting his blessings. Hadley’s forgiveness made him feel like the luckiest man in the building. But he couldn’t help squirming when one of the women, now a flight attendant, began sharing her travel anecdotes. When Hadley was younger, she’d wanted to see the world. Yet here she was, two decades later, still in Cupid’s Bow. How did she not hate him?

  And why, when people asked about what she’d been up to, didn’t she mention the stories she’d had published or the residency she’d applied for? He was surprised. Even in the short time he’d been back, he realized how important her writing was to her. Didn’t she want to share that with her friends?

  “Hey.” She nudged him gently, her voice a whisper as Lorina listed the baby names she and her husband had brainstormed. “Do you still want to apologize to Reggie?”

  Want was a strong word. This was going to be more unpleasant than being stepped on by a bull. “You see him?”

  She pointed. The ex-football player stood by the stage with a statuesque redhead two inches taller than him.

  Grayson ground his teeth. “Might as well get this over with.”

  They drifted in Reggie’s direction, stopping along the way as Hadley greeted various acquaintances. By the time they finally reached her ex-boyfriend, the man had spotted Hadley. He smiled at her, but then stared in confusion at Grayson.

  “Cox? Is that you?” He flashed Hadley a toothy grin. “Damn, sweetheart, I guess your standards really slipped after me. Kidding! How the hell are you guys? Hadley, Grayson, this is my wife, Mrs. Juliette George.” He patted the woman’s stomach. “You can’t tell yet because her body’s so banging, but we’re expecting baby number two.”

  “Congratulations,” Hadley told the redhead.

  Meanwhile, Grayson wondered how Reggie ever got either of these women to give him the time of day. “We won’t keep you,” Grayson said. “I’m sure you want to catch up with all of your old buddies. But while we’re all here tonight, I have a confession to make. Do you remember that stolen donkey mascot from—”

  “That was you!” Reggie’s face became mottled with rage. For half a second, Grayson thought the man might actually take a swing at him.

  He was entitled. After all, there had been a time when Reggie had deep feelings for Hadley. He’d witnessed firsthand how much Grayson’s thoughtless stunt had hurt her.

  “My father almost didn’t believe me when I said I wasn’t behind that,” Reggie said. “He threatened to take back the convertible I got for graduation!”

  Grayson gaped at the man. “That’s what you’re mad about?”

  “Honey, your blood pressure,” Juliette cautioned her husband.

  Reggie took several deep breaths, then socked Grayson in the arm. “I guess it all worked out okay. Got to keep the car, and it made me look like a badass to all the students who thought I really was responsible. I appreciate you coming clean, but no harm done, man.”

  No harm? Grayson’s temper rose, but he wasn’t sure which of them he was mad at. “No harm except for Hadley’s broken arm, torn shoulder ligament and lost scholarship. Her whole future...”

  “Oh. Well. Yeah.” Reggie shifted uncomfortably. “But you’re good now, right, Hadley? Work at a bookstore?”

  “The library, actually.”

  Reggie gave her a fond smile, then told his wife, “Hadley and I first hooked up in the library. She needed my help with a school project.” At Hadley’s glare, he amended, “Well, maybe it was more like mutual assistance. Hey, Andersen!” he suddenly hollered at a guy crossing the room. “Come on, Juliette, I’ve gotta show you off to the team quarterback. Grayson, Hadley, you kids have fun tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Momentarily speechless, Grayson and Hadley watched them fade into the crowd.

  “Huh.” She turned to Grayson, her expression deadpan. “I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed before, but... that man is kind of an ass.”

  The outrage he’d been feeling on her behalf evaporated into amusement. He threw his head back and laughed. It was too loud, drawing quizzical stares from others, but it was cleansing. He felt lighter than he had in weeks. “You want to go outside for some fresh air?”

  “Yes, please.”

  There was a door that led out the side of the gym. He opened it for her, the spring night cool around them. They weren’t the only ones who’d escaped the crowd inside. Couples sat on the hoods of cars in the parking lot and small clusters of people chatting dotted the campus. But there was no one within earshot when he shrugged out of his jacket and spread it over the grass for her like a picnic blanket.

  “Thank you.” She kicked off her shoes and sat with her knees bent to the side, trying to move over enough so that there was room for him on the fabric.

  He laughed. “I appreciate the thought, but you’re the one in the dress. I promise my jeans have seen worse than the school lawn.” But no sooner had the words left his mouth than he realized he’d cheated himself out of a golden opportunity, seizing an excuse to scoot as close to her as possible. Holding her on the dance floor had left him craving more of her.

  The smart move was for them to remain platonic friends, but after thinking about her all day, worrying that he’d lost her, he couldn’t deny that he wanted more. What did Hadley want?

  “Is it selfish that I brought you out here?” he asked. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends.”

  “I’ll go back in soon.” She turned, meeting his eyes. “Right now, this is right where I want to be.”

  Me, too. There were things he wanted to say, but somehow, they seemed both inadequate and too much all at once. He looked up, trying to see the stars, but the lights in the parking lot obscured all but the brightest of them. “Your friends are nice.”

  “The best,” she agreed. “I hope I do a better job of keeping up with them between now and the twentieth reunion.”

  He smiled at her. “Maybe you’ll be a best-selling novelist by then. Why didn’t you mention to them that you write?” Or had she told them all about it before he showed up tonight?

  “I... It’s not exactly as secret, but it isn’t easy for me to talk about, either. There’s a high level of anxiety. Writing is so different from softball. On the field, you know instantly if you’re doing a good job. Results are immediate—you get the base or the run, or you get tagged out. The crowd reacts. Writing is lonely. It’s just you and the blank page and the blinking cursor of doom.”

  He chuckled at that.

  “It can take days, weeks, to finish even short pieces, th
en you send them out into the world and wait for the referee to make some kind of call. Even if it’s published, you’ll never know how most readers respond to it.”

  “You make it sound nerve-racking.”

  “It is. But thrilling, too.” She wiggled her bare toes out in front of her. “I wonder if this is how painters feel. You put something on the canvas in the solitude of your studio, unsure whether people will declare it a work of abstract genius or just stare at it and mutter ‘I don’t get it.’ And some artists are only celebrated later, not appreciated during their own time.”

  “Granted I’m new at it, but I think parenting is like that, too. You put in the effort every day, but it’s difficult to know whether you’re doing a good job until way down the road, when you can see the kind of person a kid has become. And even then, it’s not really an end result. Adults continue to grow and change.”

  “Hopefully. Some of us probably stagnate, afraid to challenge ourselves to leave our comfort zones.”

  Did she feel like she was stagnating here in Cupid’s Bow? He bumped his shoulder against hers. “Is Colorado in your comfort zone?”

  She laughed. “Hardly. I’ve never been that far from home. And I’d be gone six months! Inconvenient timing, considering Sierra’s wedding, but she’s been totally supportive. She told me not to worry about logistics until I actually get the residency—and not to worry about it then because I should be too busy celebrating.”

  “I only met her briefly, but she seems terrific. Very...”

  “Lively? Outspoken? Feisty?”

  He grinned. “Something like that. Jarrett is clearly crazy about her. I’m going to the ranch tomorrow afternoon so he can introduce me to the students I’ll be working with and smooth the transition. He even invited me to bring the boys to come see the animals and run around in the wide-open spaces.”

  “Maybe I’ll see you there. Sierra’s bridesmaids are meeting to get her input on the bridal shower and do a preliminary dress fitting. Sierra’s parents are throwing a lot of money into ‘Cupid’s Bow’s wedding of the century,’ but the Ross family wanted to contribute, as well. Jarrett’s mom is sewing the bridesmaid dresses. In fact, if the timing works out, maybe we can ride together to the ranch.”