Boots and The Rogue: Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 10

by Myla Jackson

“You know I don’t like to go to these things,” he said.

  “If you want to get into this gallery, you have to be present for the opening of the exhibit. Two hours, tops. Don’t say no. Take the pictures and think about it. It’s a chance to break out of the Seattle market and let others see what a talented artist you are.”

  “I’ll get you those photos. But no promises.”

  “Hurry.”

  He ended the call.

  “Was that your boss?” his mother’s voice said from behind him.

  Brody turned. “Sort of.”

  “Does he want you back in Seattle?” His mother’s face looked so sad it pained him to hurt her so much. Despite her threats, she was his mother and the only parent he had left. Which was still more than Jessie had.

  “No, actually. She wants me in Dallas,” he said.

  His mother’s face brightened.

  He raised his hand. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s a one-time deal.”

  Her face fell like a flower drooping from lack of water. “You can’t blame a mother for hoping.” She looped her purse over her shoulder and stepped around him. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me. I might be late.”

  Brody frowned. “Where are you going?”

  She smiled. “To play cards with friends. You should get out tonight. I don’t know where you’ve been all week, but you need to lighten up. Go dancing or something.”

  Brody stared at the road leading away from the ranch. The dust had already settled from where Colin’s truck had gone. “Where was Colin headed?”

  “He and Jessie went to the Ugly Stick Saloon. You should go.” She pecked him on the cheek. “I love you, Brody. Whatever you do, have a good time.”

  Then she stepped down from the porch, climbed into her SUV and drove away, leaving Brody alone at the house.

  For a few seconds longer he watched his mother’s vehicle and then he spun around and headed for his bedroom. He grabbed his camera and hurried out to his truck. If he hurried, he could take the photos, send them to his agent and still make it to the Ugly Stick Saloon before the night got going.

  With his camera on the front seat of his pickup, Brody drove out to the hunting cabin.

  Twenty minutes later he had the photos he needed and returned to the house to download them to his laptop. He sent them to Sharon along with his decision about attending the exhibit.

  As soon as he hit the Send key, Brody raced through a shower and shave, and dressed in his best blue jeans, boots and crisp white shirt. He was headed to the Ugly Stick Saloon without a clear plan in mind. All he knew was Jessie would be there, and he couldn’t stay away another moment.

  Chapter Ten

  Audrey greeted Jessie like an old friend, hugging her as close as she could get with her pregnant belly in the way. “I’m so glad things are working out with you and the McFarlans. I’m sure they can’t live without you by now.”

  Jessie forced a smile she didn’t feel. Audrey had enough on her mind. She didn’t need Jessie’s pathetic problems to weigh her down any more than she already was, with a bar to run, a baby on the way and a gorgeous man waiting on her hand and foot. Yeah, Audrey was a lucky woman. She had it all.

  Until she met Brody, Jessie had been satisfied to be just Jessie. Now that she’d had a taste of what it could be like to be with a man she cared about, she knew what she was missing and it hurt like a physical ache, wrenching at her gut.

  “Hey, you’re supposed to be having a good time.” Colin slid onto the barstool beside her. “We’ve been here an hour and you haven’t danced once.”

  She glanced out at the dance floor, with no desire to get out there when all she could think about was Brody.

  A cowboy stepped in front of her and held out his hand. “Wanna dance?”

  Jessie gave him a weak smile and shook her head.

  Colin snorted. “And not from the lack of men asking.”

  Glancing down at the short, creamy-white dress made of layers of silk and sheer fabric that Mrs. McFarlan insisted made her look like a sassy angel, Jessie felt like a fraud. The dress was made for a woman who should be the life of any party. That wasn’t Jessie.

  “You’re hot, Jessie. You should be dancin’, not sitting here moping. Is it something I said?”

  She smiled halfheartedly. “No, Colin. You’ve been more than generous with your time. You should be out there dancing with all the pretty girls.”

  His gaze slipped to one woman nursing a beer at the other end of the bar.

  Jessie’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that Fancy Wilson?”

  He looked away. “Who?”

  She knew darned well he’d seen the woman. He’d glanced that way more than once while he was talking to Jessie. “Why don’t you ask Fancy to dance?”

  “Nah. If she wanted to dance, she’d at least look up.”

  “Maybe she’s waiting for someone to ask her.” Jessie rolled her eyes. “Your mother is right. I don’t know how to flirt, but you can be clueless. I swear I’ve seen her looking this way as many times as you’ve looked toward her.”

  “Yeah, what you don’t understand is that she’s off-limits.”

  “What?” Jessie stared at him. “I don’t see any signs posted.”

  “She won’t dance with me, go out with me or engage in anything other than the polite conversation of a stranger with me.”

  “What did you do to her?”

  He stared down at the dregs in the bottom of his mug of beer. “I made love to her when she was engaged to my brother.”

  Jessie digested that admission, pieces of the puzzle coming together. “Wow. I can see why he was angry.”

  Colin slumped on his barstool, wrapping his hand around his mug. “I don’t blame him.”

  “But, Colin, that was eight years ago.”

  “I lost the girl I love, and my brother, because of one night.”

  Jessie glanced over at Fancy at the same time the woman looked her way.

  The pain in the other woman’s eyes was evident before she looked away, color rising in her cheeks.

  Colin glanced at Fancy again.

  “Are you in love with her?” Jessie asked.

  Colin’s gaze returned to his empty mug. “Wouldn’t matter if I was. She won’t have anything to do with me. And I won’t betray my brother again.”

  Jessie thought her life was complicated—she was in love with Brody, but he didn’t love her.

  If Brody still loved Fancy and Colin loved her too…someone was going to get hurt all over again.

  No wonder Brody didn’t want to stay in Texas or make love to Jessie more than once. He still had feelings for Fancy. Hell, he might have been thinking of Fancy when he made love to her in the swimming hole. And she’d seduced him. What an idiot she was.

  Her head spinning and her heart breaking, Jessie couldn’t sit there and do nothing. “Colin, I’d like to dance now.”

  “Huh?” He looked up confused.

  Jessie grabbed his hand and dragged him off his stool. “If you’re not going after her, you might as well dance with me. It beats mooning over someone you can’t have.” Her eyes stung as she led him out onto the dance floor, determined to take her own advice.

  Colin stopped on the sideline, shaking his head. “Jessie, I just don’t feel like dancing now.”

  “You don’t have a choice. My father always said it was rude of a man to refuse to dance when a girl asked him.” She smiled up at him. “And he taught me how to dance, so do my father proud and dance with me.”

  The lively tune that had been playing ended, and the band segued into a slower, haunting melody.

  Colin took her hand. “If we’re going to do this, let’s do it like we mean it. Did your daddy teach you to waltz?”

  “Yes, he did.” Jessie stepped into Colin’s arms. “He told me he’d fallen in love with my mother during a waltz.” She smiled up at him. “Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to fall in love with me the same way. Just dance.”

 
After they’d made one complete circle around the floor, her senses came alive. She knew Brody had entered the saloon, even before she spotted him standing at the edge of the dance floor.

  His gaze latched on to her and Colin, his blue eyes dark, his brows dipped low.

  “Why is Brody glaring at me?” Colin spun Jessie around to get a better look at his brother. “You’d think I stole his fiancée all over again.”

  Jessie kept her eyes forward, refusing to swivel her head to see Brody.

  Colin turned Jessie under his arm. For a brief moment, she caught a glimpse of Brody’s brooding face and her heart thrilled. “Oh, he does look mad.”

  For a giddy second Jessie dared to think Brody might be jealous of his brother Colin. Then she remembered Colin had slept with his fiancée. Maybe Brody wasn’t so much jealous as angry that Colin might be trying to take another woman he’d shown even the slightest interest toward. Perhaps his anger was more about his distrust of his brother than his desire for her.

  A surge of annoyance charged through Jessie’s system, stiffening her spine and making her want to show Brody what he was missing by pushing her away. She’d also prove to him that she could get on with her life, whereas he still insisted on living in the past.

  She grinned up at Colin. As they passed close to Brody, she threw him a vague smile and returned her gaze to Colin. Colin waltzed to the other end of the floor, going with the flow of the other dancers.

  When they circled back around, Fancy Wilson stood beside Brody, her hand on his shoulder, leaning close enough to touch his ear with her lips.

  A sharp pain stabbed through Jessie’s heart and she stumbled.

  Colin pulled her close to keep her from falling. When he glanced up, he stiffened. “Damn.” His lips pressed together and he slowed, turning her around again.

  Brody took Fancy in his arms and whirled her onto the dance floor, bearing down on Colin and Jessie.

  Before Jessie could move away, the two stopped and faced them.

  “Care to trade?” Brody asked.

  Without waiting for Colin’s permission, he took Jessie’s hand and pulled her into his arms, clamping her tightly against him.

  The music drifted into another slow song, but Jessie’s heart didn’t relax at all, now that she was pressed against Brody.

  “Why did you butt into our dance?” she demanded, her voice not nearly as forceful as she’d intended.

  “Why are you here with Colin? Did he ask you out on a date?”

  Jessie snorted. “So suddenly you care? Based on the fact you avoided me all week, I assumed you weren’t interested.” She stopped in the middle of the music and stepped away. “If you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to dance with you.”

  He didn’t release her hand, tugging her back around to face him. “I thought we had something.”

  “Did we?” She raised her eyebrows. “It must have been all that fresh Texas air that made you dizzy. I remember you saying something about you were leaving as soon as you could.”

  Brody’s hand tightened around hers, his lips thinning.

  Jessie shifted her glance to his hand, and fought the burn of tears building in her eyes. This wasn’t how she imagined Brody coming back to her. “Leave me alone, Brody,” she said softly, her throat closing on a sob. “I know how to be on my own. You know too. It’s easy to insulate yourself from being hurt when you don’t have anyone else in your life.” She shook loose from his hand and darted through the other couples still dancing.

  Jessie didn’t look back. It wouldn’t have done any good. She couldn’t have seen anything more than the blur of tears obstructing her vision. Headed for the bar, she hoped to slip out the back door before Brody caught up to her, if he even bothered to follow.

  Running past the end of the bar, Jessie was glad to see Greta Sue, the bouncer, wasn’t standing guard over the hallway leading to the rear exit, giving her a clear shot at escape. Once she got outside, she wasn’t sure what she’d do, but she wouldn’t have to face Brody with tears in her eyes.

  Audrey and Jackson emerged from the storeroom, straightening their clothes, happy, but appearing a little guilty. Her dress hitched high on the swell of her belly.

  Audrey spied Jessie and stepped in front of her. “What’s wrong?” she demanded. “Did one of the rednecks make a pass at you? Point at him, and I’ll rip him a new asshole.”

  “No. No. I’m okay, I just need some air.”

  “Isn’t that Brody McFarlan headed our way?” Audrey asked, rubbing a hand over her belly.

  Jessie shot a glance over her shoulder and her heart sped. She gripped Audrey’s arms. “Do you mind if I let myself out the back door?”

  “Not at all, but don’t you want to wait and find out why Brody is waving at us?” Audrey nodded toward the man.

  “No. I’m feeling really awful.” And heartbroken.

  “Then, by all means, go.” Audrey eyed Brody, who was slowed down by three drunken cowgirls flinging themselves in front of him.

  As Jessie passed Jackson, the big Kiowa cowboy, he put out his hand. “You sure you’re running from Brody? Or are you running from yourself?” he asked, his gaze pinning her, seeming to see straight through to her heart.

  The tears welled up and spilled over. “I don’t want him to see me cry,” she said.

  “Jackson, sweetie, let her go. You men like to think women are weak. We don’t like to give you proof.” Audrey winked at Jessie. “Do you have a ride home?”

  Jessie pressed a hand to her mouth and shook her head. “No.”

  Audrey nodded to Jackson. “Show her to the storeroom while I round up one of your brothers to take her home.”

  Jackson hooked her arm and led her to the door from which he and Audrey had just emerged. “You can hide in here while Audrey finds someone to take you home.”

  “What if Brody sees me going in?” she asked.

  “I’ll do what I can to run interference.”

  Her lips trembled as she touched the big Kiowa’s arm. “Thank you.”

  Jackson held the door open for her and pulled it closed behind her.

  The small storeroom was filled from floor to ceiling with boxes of liquor, cases of beer and other items the bar sold. Jessie listened at the door for the sound of footsteps but could hear nothing but the low thumping of the bass guitar. If Brody did follow her, he might stick his head in the door and see her standing there like a scared child who’d rather hide than face the truth—he didn’t love her.

  Jessie walked around a stack of boxes filling the center of the room, sat on several labeled Jack Daniel’s Whiskey and waited out of sight of the door.

  How long did it take to find Jackson’s brothers?

  She worried her bottom lip and stared around the room. A small riding crop hung from a hook on the wall.

  Jessie frowned. What was a riding crop doing hanging in a storeroom?

  On another hook hung a pair of bright-red leather chaps, too small for a man, but just right for a woman. Again, why would Audrey keep chaps in the storeroom when she had a costume room backstage? Jessie had seen it the night she’d grilled burgers at the saloon.

  The door opened, and the music swelled, filling the room. Jessie’s heart leaped and she stood, carefully peering around the boxes.

  “Just a case of Miller Lite? What about Coors?” Charli Sutton shouted from the door of the storeroom over the sound of the band. She lifted a case of Miller Lite and left.

  Jessie sank back onto the box as the door swung closed and shut with a click. For a brief moment she’d thought Brody followed her into the storeroom. That desperate part of her searching for love wished it had been him. Alas, it had been Charli, Audrey’s cute, little, blond-haired assistant manager, with more spunk in her little pinky than most women had in their entire bodies.

  With a sigh, Jessie debated pulling one of the bottles out of a box and downing it to gain a little liquid courage, enough to face Brody and pretend it didn’t matter if he was going bac
k to Seattle.

  But it would be a big, fat lie. It mattered. A lot. Tears sprang to her eyes all over again. What was wrong with her? Her daddy brought her up to take the hard knocks on the chin and never let anyone see her cry. She was tougher than that.

  She sniffed. Apparently not.

  “Jessie, baby, why are you crying?” A deep, warm voice whispered next to her.

  She jumped at the sound, tripped over a case of Guinness and would have fallen if big hands hadn’t reached out and grabbed her around the waist.

  Brody yanked her into his arms and held her until she regained her balance.

  When she laid her palms against his chest to push away, he wouldn’t loosen his hold.

  “Let go of me,” she said, her voice hitching on a sob.

  “Not until you tell me why you ran away from me.” He touched a finger to her cheek, capturing a tear. “And why you’re crying.”

  She shook her head, her heart hurting so badly and anger building the longer he held her and refused to let go. She slapped her palms against his chest and left them there. “You.”

  “What about me? Have I done something to make you afraid of me? Something that would make you run away?”

  “No. I just don’t want to be near you.” Being with him made her soul ache and reminded her of what she didn’t have. Someone to love, and to be loved by. She was alone in the world and had the misfortune to fall for a guy who wanted nothing more than a one-night stand.

  “Jessie.” He tipped her head up. “Why?”

  “You and I don’t want the same things out of life. Why should I be with you? Why did you come after me? Just stay away from me, like you have all week.”

  He nodded, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I should stay away from you. And I tried.”

  Her throat constricted on the next sob rising up. She was right. He had been avoiding her. “Well, don’t worry. I won’t bother you. I know when I’m not wanted. And you never promised anything beyond what happened.” She reached up to pull his hand away from her face.

  “Listen, Jessie.”

  “No. I’m done listening. I just want to be left alone.” Tears spilled down her cheeks and she muttered, “Damn. Now see what you’ve done? I don’t cry in front of people. I didn’t want to cry in front of you, your ex-fiancée or any of the McFarlans. I’m tougher than that. My daddy didn’t raise a sissy girl.”