Choose Me, Cowboy

by Barbara Ankrum

  But she didn’t turn around. Instead, she ran.

  ***

  Under the dark, star-tossed night outside his back door, Finn took a long pull of whiskey straight from the bottle and paced the backyard. Midnight had come and gone, and she still hadn’t come home. She’d disappeared from the dinner/dance in town like a phantom after telling his children the biggest lie of all—that she had to go unexpectedly out of town, but that she’d be back.

  His daughter, the wise one, the old soul, may or may not have seen though the transparency of this excuse but, as he’d tucked her into bed, she’d done her best to hide the tremble of her lip at the thought of Kate’s absence, even for one night.

  “She’s not like Izzy,” Caylee had told him, “or any of our other babysitters, is she, Daddy?”

  “No,” he’d said simply. “No, she’s not, darlin’.”

  She comforted him with a reassuring pat of her delicate hand on his. Wasn’t she the one who needed the comforting? “Don’t worry. She won’t forget to come back because she promised we’d make brownies for your birthday.”

  His birthday? Hell. He’d forgotten all about his birthday on Tuesday, with everything going on. Happy freaking Birthday to me.

  “Caylee,” Cutter had scolded from his bed. “That was gonna be a surprise.” He clapped a dramatic hand on his forehead. “She can’t keep a secret.”

  “Hey, I know a bakery in town that makes pretty good brownies,” he said. “Anyway, all I really want for my birthday is you two rascals.” He tickled Caylee, who dissolved into a fit of giggles as Cutter dived onto her bed to join in the fun. Finn scooped them into his arms and held them tight, his fear a palpable thing that even they didn’t miss.

  Cutter pretended to be strangling and flung himself dramatically on the bedcovers, but Caylee cuddled with him. “Should we sleep in your room tonight with you, Daddy?”

  He actually considered taking them up on their offer for a moment, then laughed. “Then how am I gonna ride in the rodeo tomorrow when you two hog the entire bed and keep me awake all night?”

  They giggled again, busted, as that was exactly what they did when they got the chance. Little pinwheels.

  “If you get scared by yourself, you can sleep in here with us,” Cutter told him.

  Something twisted in his chest. God, he loved them more than a man had a right to love. “I’ll remember that, son. Thanks.”

  “I love our room,” Caylee said, hugging herself and staring up at the glow-in-the-dark moon and stars and the clouds that Kate had painted for them. “I always want this to be our room.”

  “It will always be your room,” he promised. “No matter what.”

  Now, alone in the dark, with fireflies winking in the air and stars wheeling overhead, he felt like running, hard and fast, to burn off this feeling of helplessness. Until sweat poured down him and washed away his anger. Instead, he kicked a fist-sized rock in the dark. Pain shot up his foot. With a dark curse, he picked up the rock and heaved it blindly. The thing rang against a metal fence and thunked to the ground.

  Damn. How much had he drunk?

  And why wasn’t there more?

  And where the hell was she? Had she fled out of town? Or was she still here? She’d kept her apartment in town. For a quick exit. A painless good-bye. Maybe she’d known all along this was how things would end between them. He thought briefly of calling Izzy to sit and going to find her, but he couldn’t bring himself to go chasing after her. He was too mad for that.

  Mad was just a word that didn’t explicitly cover what he was feeling now. About how she’d kept things from him. About the job she’d taken without telling him. He had a right to be angry, didn’t he? After all, she’d made him think...she’d led him to hope...

  Fuck.

  How could she not have told him? Not trusted him? More importantly, how had he missed all that? Had he not been looking or just not seeing what was right in front of him?

  And Melissa, pulling the strings in the background as if they were all some kind of puppets to be messed with. Even her own children.

  He supposed none of that mattered now. Kate was, for all intents and purposes, gone, along with his chances of keeping his children. He supposed the blame was more his than hers. The lie that was their marriage had been his doing, after all, and his best laid plans to convert that lie into truth had failed miserably.

  The call to his attorney, Mark Erlewine, earlier that night, did not go well either. Though Mark had been working at his end to make sure they didn’t lose, he warned that this new revelation could torpedo their arguments and the Missoula judge would not look kindly upon them. Mark told him to brace himself for the possibility that Melissa would win and that he would lose at least partial custody of the twins.

  He sat down on the newly repaired porch swing and took a swig from a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, swearing he wouldn’t go down without a fight. Tomorrow, he’d win his event come hell or high water and on Wednesday, he’d do whatever it took to keep his kids. With, or without Kate.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kate hadn’t planned to come to the finals, but she found she couldn’t stay away. Wearing a baseball cap and big sunglasses, she stayed away from everyone who knew her and kept to the back of the arena so there’d be no chance the children would see her.

  Of course, she saw them. They were sitting near the chute with Izzy, watching the events as they had with her, just yesterday. Imagining the sweet cuddle of Caylee against her, she felt a wave of misery wash over her again as Finn got ready to ride.

  Coward that she was, she’d hidden herself away at her apartment last night and hadn’t called him. She’d told herself she needed some space to think. But her thinking was a circular loop that always ended back at her, holding the blame. If she’d stayed last night, and not run, would things be different? What was he thinking? Had he written her off? Slept like a baby? Already moved on? No, that wasn’t right. She knew he hadn’t. The look in his eyes last night haunted her. He’d trusted her and she’d...

  I don’t hate you, Kate.

  He’d said that and only belatedly, she’d heard it. In the middle of the night she’d heard his words and wondered how he had managed to say them right then. On the brink of losing it all?

  You never believed in us and more importantly, you never believed in yourself.

  He was right. She saw that now. She saw now that she’d spent most of her life protecting herself, her family. Choosing fear over risk. Escape over possibility. She’d sabotaged every relationship she’d ever had, including this one. And for what? Who wouldn’t fall for a man like Finn? A man who was all heart and no fear?

  Well, at least she could admit that one thing to herself: she loved Finn Scott. She loved his children. Loved who she was when she was with him. He made her better.

  She could admit these things now. Now that they were out of her reach. Perfect, Kate. Your timing sucks.

  These thoughts—the same awful ones that had plagued her all night—still roiled in her mind as she watched the bull give the back of the chute a stomping and Finn, jump off and begin again, holding his left arm, with its decapitated cast, out of the fray.

  As the first place finisher in the first go round, he was the last to ride today.

  Already some good scores had been posted. She knew nothing about the bull he’d drawn, Zingo, except for the talk she’d heard around her about the animal. Apparently, the bull was ranked high and had a low tolerance for anything on his back. Which, according to Finn, made for a great ride. Or a bad fall.

  The loudspeaker whined and the announcer said, “Let’s hear it again for Finn Scott, folks!”

  The crowd cheered and Finn lifted his hat to them, but kept his head down. She’d wanted a good look at his face, but couldn’t get one. Had he slept? Did the dark circles under his eyes match hers? She hoped not.

  No, actually, she did.

  Some small, awful part of her wanted him to look miserable, or even half a
s ragged as she felt today. A daisy-fresh Finn meant that she’d been right about last night. That they were well and truly finished.

  The announcer continued. “Coming into this round in first place, Scott will need the full eight seconds and some good scores to win. Ladd Mitchell, who came into this round second has a combined score of one-eighty point three this afternoon, and that has him breathing down Finn Scott’s neck.”

  She pressed both fists against her mouth to keep her heart from leaping out as she waited for the gate-puller to do his job. Please let him win. Please let him win. Please let him win.

  The brown and white spotted, long-horned bull exploded from the chute, wrenching Finn in five directions at once. She gasped, but he managed to stay on, pushing his heels down and forward as he’d always told her he must to stay upright.

  Two seconds in, she shoved to her feet.

  Three, she sat back down.

  The bull sun-fished on him, twisting in mid-air. This bull was tougher than Chile Pepper, but Finn looked magnificent on him, matching him stride for stride. Four. What he made appear easy was ridiculously hard. His training from years ago did not fail him now.

  The buzzer sounded so quickly she thought there must be a mistake, but Finn jumped safely off the bull and dodged the flying hooves on his way to the rail. The spotted bull tore through the reopened gate like a trained dog.

  What a sport! Being a spectator alone could shave years off your life.

  “Thought I’d find you here. Hiding behind sunglasses.”

  Her father’s voice came from behind her as he stepped over the bleacher seats to sit beside her. Oh, no. “Dad.”

  He folded his six-foot frame beside her. “We were all worried about you last night. You left in such a hurry. We tried to call, but you didn’t answer your phone.”

  That’s because I was screening. “I know.” She kept her eyes on the arena and Finn, and held her breath for his scores.

  “Look,” Reed said, folding his patrician hands between his knees. “Your mom told me what you told her about Finn. And Olivia was cagy about what she knew. So all I can go on here is what I saw between you two at dinner. What I saw in his eyes when he looked at you.”

  What look was that? A man about to step off a blind edge?

  “You’re a grown woman. Whatever is going on with you and him, that’s your business. But we want you to come over for dinner tonight. You’re clearly upset over something. We don’t like the idea of your being alone.”

  Silent, her gaze on Finn, she reached for her father’s hand and squeezed it.

  He took her hand in both of his, surprised. “What is it, Katie?”

  She shook her head. “Finn and I...we broke up. No. Scratch that. I broke up with him.”

  A frown furled his brow. “But you’re here, watching him.”

  “I am.” She turned back to look at Finn, watching the scoreboard, which flickered and Finn’s numbers came up. Ninety point four!

  The announcer shouted, “That ride puts him over the top. Our winner, Finn Scott, ladies and gentlemen with a ninety point four! What a ride!”

  As the arena broke out into applause and cheering, she exhaled the breath she hardly knew she’d been holding. He’d won. Good, she thought. Excellent. At least that. She got to her feet, but her legs felt like they were made of silly putty.

  Reed stood up beside her, too, and at that moment, she caught Finn staring straight up at her. Indeed, he still hadn’t shaved and the dark smudges beneath his eyes might just be worse than hers. Instead of feeling relief, she wanted to cry. Then, he touched the brim of his hat to her before turning back to the crowd.

  She lifted her chin.

  Aaaaand...scene.

  Tears welled in her eyes. She turned back to her father, the man who’d survived losing the love of his life, only to find another. The man who’d loved his daughters through it all watched the love of her life turn away from her. “I did that,” she told him as he pulled her into an unsolicited hug. “I don’t—” she went on, messing with the lapels of his sports coat, “I’m tired of running. I want to fix this, Dad. I need to fight for him. I love him. I love everything about him. He...he makes me a better person. But I messed it all up. I don’t know what to do. What should I do?”

  Her dad smiled a smile that looked like it was a long time coming. And when he spoke, his voice was thick. “There’s my girl. Come to dinner. We’ll talk. We’ll help you. That’s what family is for.”

  Her breath caught and she nodded, kissing him again. “Okay.” And that one, simple word must have weighed a hundred pounds. “I’ll come. I’ll see you later. I love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you more.”

  She smiled. Before her mother had died, she used to say that to them all the time. Then he’d said it until, Kate supposed, they were too old to need such things. She guessed today, she wasn’t too old.

  With a quick squeeze of her hand, she left him and started down the bleachers toward the exit.

  At the bottom of the arena, standing out in this place full of cowboys like a wolf at a picnic, stood the darkly handsome Trey Reyes, waiting for her.

  ***

  Finn’s birthday dawned warm and bright on Tuesday, in direct contrast to his declining mood. On the day before the hearing, everything should be washed with grey. But the world just kept on spinning, dressed in bright colors, even when his personal world was falling apart.

  He sipped the strong coffee he’d made and sat on the porch swing, formulating his plan for the day. There was a faculty meeting day at school today, so the kids were off and sleeping in. He would leave late today for Missoula to be on time for the hearing tomorrow. But he’d promised the kids brownies in town for his birthday and to finish up the last of the treehouse renovation. And he didn’t feel like doing any of it.

  Winning yesterday had done little to mollify the darkness that had settled over him. Oh, winning was a hell of a lot better than losing, and he was grateful for the money and what a win could do for this ranch, but the actual victory left him feeling empty.

  Was that because Kate wasn’t here to celebrate with him? He wanted to argue against that notion. Common sense and what vague bit of self-protection he still clung to warned that he needed to let her go, move on with his life. Face reality. She was gone, and she wouldn’t be coming back.

  But he missed touching her. He missed her in his bed, sleeping beside him and seeing her with his children. He missed feeling her laughter against his mouth when he kissed her in the middle of a sentence.

  Seeing Kate in the stands yesterday, watching him, had been like a sucker punch to his self-righteous anger. Had he expected her to stay away? Yes. Honestly, he hadn’t been sure she gave a damn or even if she was still in town. But she’d come. And the anger he wanted to hold onto now just felt like a burden he wanted to shed. But he had no idea what to do with it.

  Looking back, he searched his memory for the moments between them when he could have sworn she was falling in love with him. If she’d been lying about her feelings, wouldn’t he have seen it? Was he that blind in love with her that he couldn’t even tell if she was playing him?

  But no. She was nothing like Melissa. He’d bet his life on it. What she’d done, she’d done out of fear. Fear that could trace its roots directly back to him, dumping her for Melissa. At least that was honest. Unlike what Melissa had done with that information.

  Her excuses about expiration dates for men and not being able to do relationships were bullshit. The woman had deep, powerful relationships everywhere she went, from the kids at her school, to her family, to his own children. So, it was, apparently, with him she couldn’t have a relationship. A truth that stung deeper than the lie.

  A car he didn’t recognize pulled into his driveway. A Mercedes SL convertible with the top down. There weren’t too many of those around here. The driver wore sunglasses and a baseball cap, but as he pulled closer, Finn recognized him. Like a warning shot over the bow of a ship, adre
naline pumped through him.

  Mark Erlewine stepped out of his car, holding a manila envelope and wearing a smile on his face.

  The hell—?

  He got to his feet and met Mark at the bottom of the porch stairs. “Mark. What a surprise. What are you doing all the way down here? The hearing’s tomorrow.”

  “I know,” Mark said, shaking Finn’s hand. “That’s why I’m here. I drove down to give you the news in person. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

  He felt the sudden, pounding need to sit down. Had the judge already ruled? Had he by-passed the hearing altogether when he’d learned about what they’d done? He beckoned Mark up the steps and offered him one of the two paint-shedding Adirondack chairs sitting there.

  “It’s good news,” Mark preempted, before Finn could get a word in.

  His insides took a tumble. “It is?”

  Mark handed the envelope to him. Inside was a thin file, labeled, Melissa Jamison. “A copy of this file was turned over to Mrs. Jamison’s attorneys yesterday and this one came to me. Within an hour of receipt of that file, I got a phone call from her attorneys, officially cancelling the hearing. Mrs. Jamison has withdrawn her claim.”

  “She what?” He blinked down at the still closed file.

  “It’s over, Finn. She’s dropped out.”

  His hand shook as he opened the file. Inside was a thorough investigation of his ex-wife, her drug history, her alcoholism, her battle for recovery and her several failures. Then, her marriage to Peter Jamison, a wealthy businessman, who traded international commodities and ran several businesses. One of them in Hong Kong. There was also a complete financial breakdown of his wealth, along with a copy of a pre-marital agreement with Melissa and contingencies regarding children.

  “The most interesting, and certainly the most damaging item, is in a sleeve of its own,” Mark said, pointing to a letter and a copy of a receipt of money.

  Finn read it, stunned, and looked up at Mark. “She enrolled them in a boarding school? In Hong Kong? A boarding school? She didn’t even want to keep them?”