by Taylor Hart
He sped down the highway, trying to ignore her. “Not my problem, princess.” What did her mom have to do with the interview? No, back up. It wasn’t his problem. He would drop her off, call an Uber, and get his motorcycle. After, he would finish his nice ride down the mountain and get in some recording time. Yes. The day could still be saved.
He heard her sniffing, and he turned and saw a stream of tears running down her face. Her platinum hair and pale, pink lipstick made her look even more vulnerable, and dang pretty.
He sighed, hating to see a woman cry. He clenched the steering wheel harder. “What’s your deal?”
“What?”
“You know pretty much all about me.” He scoffed. “But why the tears? Why don’t you want to go to the hospital? Why all the antics? You seemed fine with dropping me earlier? What is this about your mother? You’re a grown woman for heaven’s sake.”
She didn’t reply as he entered town and started following the instructions to the hospital.
“No. Please.” She grabbed his phone. “You can’t take me to the hospital.”
Ripping the phone away from her, he stared at her in anger. “You need medical care.”
She turned away, looking like a petulant child.
Everything inside of him told him to just let it all go until he thought about how he’d kind of been a jerk the other day, making her wait. Most people never called him on his crap anymore, but he could tell she was a woman who would. He admired that. She’d been stubborn, acting like it didn’t matter.
Plus, he had been the one to call out to her before she fell out of the lift. “I want the truth.”
“What?” She sounded confused.
“If I’m not taking you to the hospital, I want the truth about you.”
Silence reigned between them for several seconds.
“Why are you freaking out about your mother finding out about dropping my article? Do you need her approval that much?”
She looked out the window. “My mother is my editor. She told me I had to do this article on you to prove myself. Now that I’ve blown it, I can’t face her yet.”
He couldn’t help the laugh that ricocheted out of him. This was kind of funny.
She glared at him. “I know it’s my fault, okay? You don’t have to rub it in.” She sniffed and turned back to the window, a tear ran down her cheek and she wiped it away.
After a beat, he shook his head. He didn’t like women crying. Ever. She had taken accountability for her own actions. He liked that quality in people.
So he did something that surprised them both. He turned and started back to his house.
She blinked and asked, “Where are you taking me?”
“Back to Montana’s house. I would advise you to keep that sharp tongue tightly tucked away in that pretty mouth of yours before I change my mind.”
Chapter 7
If someone would have told her an hour ago that she’d be relieved to have Texas Waters taking her back to Montana’s place, she would have laughed her butt off.
Trouble was, it wasn’t an hour ago. She sucked in a long breath and felt more than a little grateful. How would she have explained the accident to her mother?
Covering her face, she thought of how Hale would react when she told him about all of this. He would look disdainful, like he’d bit into a bug. Then he would tell her it was fine. When it wasn’t fine, he always said it was fine. This past semester there were things she’d quit telling him. She cringed and shook her head.
“What’s wrong now, princess?”
Swallowing, she tried to get a hold of her emotions. She hated being the fool in front of anybody. “Thank you.”
He snorted and sped down the highway toward Montana’s house. “Honestly, I couldn’t believe it when you fell off that chair lift.”
Without warning, a light laugh came out of her as she thought about it. “Hey, who’s the insane military Rambo guy hopping off and shimmying down the pole to save me?” The more she thought about it, the harder she laughed. “Oh my gosh, I read online that you were given presidential honors, I guess you just proved you still got the skills.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t anybody in the Army. Just a soldier.”
She measured the suddenly serious and annoyed tone. “Not true, I believe you got a Purple Heart and Presidential Honors. Didn’t you save a bunch of guys?”
Texas’s face turned even more serious. “Not enough.”
Looking at him, all quiet and broody and heroic, she suddenly found him incredibly sexy. His modesty just made him that much more appealing.
Letting out a breath, he ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, you can stay, but I can’t interrupt my routine to play nurse. I have to get songs written.”
The routine. It was funny to her that his routine no longer bothered her. In fact, she felt bad for disrupting it.
A couple of minutes passed as they drove to the house.
Her ankle swelled even more. “I don’t need a nursemaid, I just need to stay off it for a couple of days. Then I can get out of your hair.”
When they got to the house, he paused in the driveway and turned to her. “Do you want me to carry you in?”
She was already opening the door. “No,” she told him, even though she’d been through this rigmarole before and knew she probably couldn’t manage. Still, she wanted to try. She put her right leg out and stood. Holding onto the door, she tried to put pressure on her left foot. Instant pain ripped through her.
“Crap.” He was next to her in an instant, swooping her up in his arms and trudging toward the garage before she could protest.
They got to the garage, and he pushed in a code. The door lifted, and she found herself being taken into the kitchen, through the hall, and down the hallway toward a bedroom. “I’m putting you next to me so I can help you.” He grunted as they squeezed through the doorway. Once inside, he put her gently on the bed.
She wanted to protest or complain or say something sarcastic, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
He stared down at her, and his lips curved in a half smile. “No snippy rhetoric from you? I’m disappointed.” Turning, he left her there.
For a second, she was completely tense as she thought about her mother, her car, and her computer that was in the car. Letting it all go, she fell back onto the pillow of the posh log cabin guest room. It was a king bed, and the room was decorated with mostly red and black. There was a big bear head on the wall and several photographs of what she recognized as Jackson.
Closing her eyes, she found herself unable to relax because she could hear Texas come into the house again. She heard the ice maker start and assumed he was getting stuff for her ankle. Sitting up, she stared at her ankle. It was the size of a grapefruit, and she thought of every ankle sprain she’d ever had in her life.
She heard him talking to someone, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying.
A moment later, he appeared in her room, not looking at her, bringing her a big ice pack and a washcloth.
He frowned. “I’ll go and get you some ace bandages. Hold on.” He left the room and returned holding what looked like an athletic sock. Without asking, he put the wash rag down on her ankle, then the ice on top. He used the athletic sock to wrap around all of it. He was efficient and a bit intense.
She thought of that picture she’d seen of him and his men standing around a tank in full bomb gear. She wondered if he was like this back then. Well, of course he had been. Unfortunately, the coverage of his military career had been minor, and he didn’t seem to want to discuss the Purple Heart or Presidential Medal he’d received.
She studied him silently. His blond hair was mussed and half of it lay across his eyes. She found herself wanting to reach out and brush it away.
Finally, he turned and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Guess that’ll have to do for a bit.”
Somewhat embarrassed at her previous, what he would call “princess,” behavior she stared into th
ose deep ocean blue eyes. “Thank you.”
Texas hesitated, staring back at her, and nodded. “I think you actually mean it."
Gently, she lay back, feeling all the energy drain out of her. “I do. You pretty much saved my life in two ways this afternoon.” She closed her eyes, feeling so tired. “I’m really sorry.” At least, she didn’t have to face her mother yet.
She felt him leaning over her.
Her eyes popped open.
“Hold tight, just getting you some pillows to put underneath your foot.”
She thought about what he’d said about playing nursemaid and could have made a comment, but she didn’t say anything.
Pulling out his phone, he tapped on it for a bit. “Okay, I have an Uber car coming to get me. I’ll go get my bike and stop and get a couple of things at the drug store for you."
Once again, she was feeling rather embarrassed about everything. “Thank you” was all she could think of to say. Opening her eyes, she looked up at him.
He pushed his hand through his hair, and she noticed the skull ring in the center knuckle. She’d read about that ring. A real smile filled his face. “Careful, princess. All this gratitude is giving me the impression you may not be as bad as I thought you were.” He winked, startling her. “Maybe you’ll have to finish the article since you’ll be here bugging me anyway.”
She was speechless.
He held up a hand and pointed at her. “But I’m not doing three weeks, a couple of days—tops.” With that last comment, he took off.
She sat there and certainty filled her … she would get to the bottom of Texas Waters.
Chapter 8
When Texas returned to the house about an hour later, he went right to the guest room with a sack of supplies in his hand. At the pharmacy, some of the workers had recognized him and helped him get everything quickly before asking for a photo. He made the guy promise not to put it on social media, but he’d done the picture.
He did not need a bunch of paparazzi at the moment. He had to get this album done.
Texas paused in the doorway. Liberty’s eyes were closed, and her breathing was deep and even. He stared down at the blonde vixen with pixie lips and what he knew to be a razor-like wit and shook his head. Man, when she’d fallen, he’d been scared. He’d climbed down without even thinking about it even though she’d been pretty brutal to him.
He didn’t do things because people were nice. He did them because they were the right thing to do. It had been interesting when she’d said thank you twice. She’d seemed vulnerable.
Putting the supplies down gently, he left the room. He would hit the shower and then he needed to do some research of his own.
Texas stared at the Internet article, one of several, on Liberty Wright.
It appeared she’d won a scholarship to study in London last semester from the Yale department of Global Studies.
After some more digging, he found an article about her father, a Pulitzer prize winning news reporter, covering the war in Iraq. Texas was stunned. Her father had been in Iraq?
The article said, “In an incredible stroke of bad luck, the hotel Samuel L. Wright, reporter for The New York Times, was staying at was struck by a terrorist attack.” Reading about her loss and what she had been through made him think about Liberty in a new way. Obviously, she was about six years younger than him. Clearly, she was a bit entitled. Okay, a lot entitled and prissy.
She’d gone to Yale, so that alone reeked of rich, entitled princess. He grinned, thinking of the uppity way she spoke to him.
He read about her mother, part owner of, and one of the top editors at, The New York Times. Obviously, the girl had a lot to live up to. He scrolled through some of her writing. There were a couple of articles that were pretty good—all political, focused on the current refugee relocation problem.
The sun was setting when he heard what sounded like someone falling out of bed.
Running for her room, he saw he had been right. She had fallen off the bed. Currently, she was trying to get up without any success. Crutches, he should have thought about them sooner.
He reached out beneath her arms, helping her back onto the bed.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she said quietly, sounding embarrassed.
“Oh.” He picked her up and carried her.
“No.” She started to protest, but fell silent. She frowned when he put her in the bathroom. “I am going to have to limp or something. I can’t have you carrying me around every second."
He walked out. “I’ll get you some crutches.”
“No.” She made another half-hearted protest as he pulled the door shut.
After she was finished, he helped her get situated again, then drove back to the pharmacy. The same kid who had helped him earlier ended up getting him the crutches.
By the time he got back to Montana’s, it was dark. He was surprised to find her showered and wearing her dirty clothes.
He felt like an idiot for not thinking about that detail either. “I’ll go get your stuff from your hotel. Where are your keys?”
She shook her head. “No, not tonight. I think that would be way too much exposure for you. Can you imagine, you trying to get in my hotel room?"
He realized she was right, so he went to his room and got a t-shirt and some sweats. "These will be way too big for you, but you can borrow them while I wash your clothes."
She gave him a smile. “Texas Waters—the nice guy.” She made a gesture like she was announcing a title.
He felt himself soften toward her, partly because she was vulnerable and partly because of what he’d learned about her. He gave her a smile. “That would be fake news if I’ve ever heard it.”
She let out a light laugh.
He realized he liked her laugh.
“Are you hungry?”
“No.” She put up her hand and pressed it to her stomach.
“Right, I think I remember you lamenting about all the carbs.”
“Lamenting?” she asked.
“Me, caveman, know big words.” He pounded his chest.
Another smile played at her lips. “I wasn’t meaning you were using big words, I know you’re a song writer. Words are your playground.”
He lounged against the door, feeling like he was flirting with a pretty girl after gym class. He liked teasing her, making her a bit defensive. He snapped. “I’ll get you some water.” He was back seconds later with water for both of them. He gave her one and sat on the chair next to the bed.
She let out a soft laugh. “You’re sitting with me? I thought playing nursemaid isn’t your thing?”
He smiled at her teasing. “You can do that interview now. If it works for you.”
Hesitating, she gave him a sheepish look. “Are you sure you want to give me another chance?”
He wanted to tease her again, but sensed he shouldn’t about this. He nodded. “Yep. Go ahead.”
“Great, perfect. Too bad I don’t have my computer."
He shrugged. “How about we keep it informal."
She cocked an eyebrow. “Are you okay with that?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that what this whole spread is supposed to be about—Texas Waters, up close and personal?” He was still in flirt mode.
She nodded, affirmatively. “I’m good if you’re good."
“But fair play is fair play. If you ask a question, I get to ask a question.”
Looking unsure, she cleared her throat. “You want to know about me?”
It kind of made him feel bad she felt like he wouldn’t. “Let’s start with you.”
Looking doubtful, she shrugged. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
He shrugged back, immediately having a lot of questions about her, but not wanting to reveal what he knew. “Why is your name Liberty, if you know?” He gave her a placating smile.
She hesitated for a brief moment, and a smile played at her lips. “I actually do know. My father loved the idea of the Libert
y Bell. What it symbolized. He insisted on the name even though my mom didn’t like it." Her cheeks flushed, and she looked sad for a minute. “He would call me Liberty Bell sometimes.”
“What does it symbolize?” he asked.
She hesitated.
“C’mon.”
“Fine. The Liberty Bell's saying is from Leviticus 25:10: "Proclaim Liberty Throughout All the Land unto All the Inhabitants thereof." They were instructions given in the Old Testament that referred to a time of "Jubilee" when all Israelites were to return property and grant freedom to slaves. It happened every 50 years.” She shrugged. “The saying was used as a rallying cry to end slavery in America.”
Warmth filled him. She sounded kind of nerdy, but he liked it. “Cool.”
She looked up at him, vulnerability filling her face.
“Good.” He cleared his throat, not knowing what to say to that. He flashed her a grin. “You know there’s a town named Liberty in Texas, right?”
“It all comes back to Texas.” Liberty let out an exaggerated sigh.
“You know it.” Dang, she was attractive.
Her cheeks flushed red again, and she looked embarrassed.
He liked her, he decided. Feeling a connection forming between them, he decided to forgive her for her prissiness. “Give me the cliff notes version of you.”
She let out a breath, then bopped her head back and forth slowly for a second. “Okay, but it’s boring. I grew up in Boston and went to private school.” She paused.
Letting out a low whistle, he put on an impressed face. “Swanky.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, didn’t think you’d care about that, Mr. Country Bad Boy.”
For some reason, he actually liked the way she said bad boy. “Continue, beach at the Hamptons in the summer prissy girl.”
She laughed.
“I mean, isn’t that right? You hung out at the beach all summer, played the mean girl game, the whole nine yards?”
Tweaking her lip to the side, she continued. “Yes, summer at the Hamptons. No, no mean girls. I do have one close friend from my snotty private school.”