True-Blue Cowboy

by Sara Richardson

  “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.” His friend drifted into the kitchen and paused in front of the subzero refrigerator. “Do we need beer for this conversation? Or whiskey?”

  “Neither.” Didn’t matter how much he drank; he wouldn’t be able to forget that shattered look on Everly’s face.

  “Whoa. Maybe I should sit down for this.” Levi went into the expansive living room and claimed the recliner by the fireplace.

  Mateo walked over to the couch. Damn, he was tired. Dante followed and curled up on his feet as if he was afraid Mateo would leave him. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’m bunking up with you tonight.” That’s what he should’ve done in the first place. He should’ve moved in with Levi for a while. Then he wouldn’t have kissed Everly right before breaking her heart.

  “I’m guessing the unannounced visit means Everly finally kicked you out of her house.” Levi obviously wasn’t about to let him keep the story to himself. No matter how much Mateo would like to.

  “She didn’t even give me time to pack up my stuff.”

  Amusement flickered in his friend’s eyes. “She must’ve had a good reason.”

  “I told her I’m not renewing her lease.”

  Shock tinged his friend’s expression. “Wow. Yeah, I’d say that’s a good reason.”

  Mateo hunched over and kneaded his forehead. “Don’t give me shit about it. I already feel bad enough.”

  “I won’t give you shit. The rest of the town, on the other hand…Whew, man. You might want to take a vacation.”

  “I can handle it.” He didn’t care what the town thought of him. Their opinion wouldn’t get to him nearly as much as Everly’s did. “I should’ve told her right when I bought the place.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I like her. Didn’t want to upset her.” This was the first time he’d admitted it, even to himself. “But we won’t be able to compete forever. You know it as well as I do. I need this condo development. My family needs it.”

  Levi acknowledged the truth with a grim frown.

  “This deal with the Wilders is my safety net.” Not that Levi would understand any better than Charity and Darla had. His whole life Levi’d had someone to take care of him. It had never been the other way around. He’d never had to provide for his siblings or his dad. “We didn’t have the opportunities you guys had growing up. My nieces and nephews back in Mexico won’t have them either, if I can’t help.” And then there was his mom. She had no health insurance, no long-term care plan if something happened to her. Mateo was it.

  “It makes sense you want to take care of your family,” Levi said. “But I feel like it’s my responsibility as your friend to mention that I’ve never heard you say you like a woman.”

  Mateo shot him a doubting look. Out of all his friends, he talked to Levi the most. “Sure you have.”

  “No, I haven’t.” His friend smirked with an irritating surety. “I’ve heard you compliment plenty of women. But appreciating their physical appearance is a hell of a lot different than liking who they are as people.”

  He had nothing to say to that. Usually, he didn’t make time to get to know the woman behind the appearance. But living at the farm had meant he’d seen glimpses of Everly’s heart, whether he’d wanted to or not. Like the morning she’d done that class with those three old guys. She’d been kind and patient, even when they were burning down her kitchen. And a few days after that, he’d looked out the farmhouse window and saw her pushing the two little Hart boys around in a wheelbarrow. It had put a pang in his chest to see her entertaining two little kids who were going through a tough time.

  Mateo dropped his focus back to Dante so his friend couldn’t read his face. “I didn’t mean I like Everly. I meant she’s a good person.” A much better person than him.

  “Whatever you say.”

  Mateo nudged Dante off his boots and stood. “I didn’t come here to talk about Everly anyway. I came to see if I could stay with you until the trailer is done.” But he’d be glad to go find another place—hell, maybe even sleep in his truck—if Levi insisted on analyzing his feelings for Everly. They didn’t change anything—not his situation, not hers.

  “Lucky for you, Cass is working in Denver this week.” His friend still had that smug expression. “But I can’t promise you a room when she gets back.”

  “Got it.” Based on Charity’s and Darla’s reactions to the news, he’d be on Everly’s friends’ shit list for a good long while.

  * * *

  Sometimes life was all about small victories. Like when you didn’t burst into tears the moment you let your goats out of their stable in the morning.

  Today, instead of a snotty deluge, the tears came out in more of a trickle when Everly patted Matilda, Honey, Wormwood, and Trunchbull affectionately on their furry little heads. “You’ve been such good friends,” she said through a sigh. She’d acquired the four goats from a ranch about an hour away, and they were the first pets she’d ever had. She’d named them after characters in Matilda, her favorite childhood book. Now she’d likely have to give them up along with the ducks and chickens, her gardens, and the café. “What’re we going to do?”

  Two days had passed since Mateo had kissed her, right before telling her he planned to kick her out, and she still didn’t have a plan. She’d looked at properties on the Internet, but none had the facilities to set up both a farm and a café, and she didn’t have money to build or renovate.

  She had only about six weeks. It felt like someone had lit a fuse on her life and the minutes were ticking past too quickly, barreling toward a full implosion.

  Everly walked down the worn path through the goat pens, hardly letting her gaze skim the mountains on the horizon. It hurt her heart to look. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, couldn’t imagine being anyone else, but it didn’t seem like she’d have much of a choice other than to reinvent herself once again.

  Right as she came around the side of the chicken coops, Mateo’s truck turned onto her driveway and parked in front of the house. Emotions clashed inside her—anger and embarrassment, but also a scrap of tenderness that had somehow survived the immense disappointment he’d leveled on her.

  The truth was, she couldn’t despise him. Not after what he’d said to Charity and Darla about his family. She could be mad, but she couldn’t hate him. No matter how much she wanted to. Mateo was driven by years of feeling helpless, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine how that had impacted him. God, she’d grown up in a Pacific Heights town home with a chef to cook meals and a live-in housekeeper to do her laundry. Every time her anger at Mateo surged, she got an image in her mind—a little boy with thick black hair and dark expressive eyes standing on a street corner holding out his hand while people walked by. He might know how to have fun and be the life of the party now, but his past had shaped him. It still haunted him, too. The difference was, he didn’t let anyone see it.

  She waited for him to get out of his truck, which seemed to take an awfully long time. When he finally did, he stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, hunched his shoulders, and walked over. That small scrap of tenderness buzzed like a flickering light bulb low in her stomach. It wouldn’t be there at all if he hadn’t tried to comfort her after her dad’s visit, if he hadn’t kissed her lips with such a convincing fire. It wouldn’t be there if she didn’t admire something about his desire to protect the people he loved.

  “Sorry for showing up like this.” His gaze met hers then quickly darted away. “I thought you’d be out feeding the animals.”

  “I just finished.” She did her best to look through him, but her voice wobbled. Anger. She had to harness the anger so he wouldn’t realize she felt something deeper for him. Mateo probably didn’t feel anything. Except for guilt, maybe. He did look pretty guilt-ridden.

  “I came to get some of my things. But I can come back another time.”

  “It’s fine,” she said as stiffly as she could manage. “I’m leaving soon, anyway.
I just have to grab a couple of meals from the freezer and I’ll be out of your way.”

  “Meals?”

  Did he really have to ask? To prolong this conversation and torture her? “Today’s delivery day. I’m bringing a few dinners over to Kenna Hart.” Then she’d swing by Jessa’s house and drop off a few meals, too. At book club the other night, her friend had mentioned she hadn’t been feeling well. So far, no official announcements had been made, but Everly had her fingers crossed. Jessa and Lance had been trying to get pregnant for a few years, and she couldn’t wait for those two to be parents.

  Smiling a little, she turned her attention back to Mateo. “I’ll be gone a good hour or so. That should give you plenty of time to pack up.”

  He didn’t move. “Why are you bringing her meals?”

  Everly shrugged. “I do that sometimes. For people who are sick or going through a tough time.” Shortly after she’d opened the café, she’d discovered it was a hub for sharing news. People would come in and tell her about friends or family members who were struggling with illness or financial burdens or serious family crises.

  At first, hearing the barrage of challenges and difficulties that so many wonderful people were facing had overwhelmed her. Then one day, she’d gotten an idea. Why not make extra dishes she could use to help people who were hurting? Food couldn’t fix problems but it could bring comfort. It couldn’t take away pain but it could reduce stress. It was one small way she could give back to the community that had given so much to her.

  Tears banged at the backs of her eyes. The dinner delivery rounds had become a highlight of her week. She loved seeing the looks of hopeful surprise when she showed up on someone’s doorstep. She cherished the hugs and the friendships and the neighborly interactions her rounds brought. Yet another thing she might have to let go of if she didn’t have the farm. So far, the only way she could see supporting herself would be to get a full-time job somewhere. And there weren’t exactly a ton of openings in Topaz Falls.

  Somehow, she zapped the threatening tears with a hard blink. When she opened her eyes, Mateo was staring at her. “Um. So you can go in and get whatever you need.” She cleared her throat and turned to head into the house. “Just lock the door when you leave.”

  “Right.” Mateo’s footsteps thudded behind her. “I only have time to grab a few things. I’ll have to come back for the rest later.”

  “Sure. Whenever.” She didn’t look back as she made her way up the porch steps and into the house. Why did he have to make her heart pound so hard?

  “And the stuff I stored in the cellar—”

  “You can leave that.” She marched herself to the freezer and stacked all of the premade meals into a box she had waiting on the counter. “It won’t be in my way. I’ll be moving out soon, so it doesn’t make sense for you to do anything with it.” She lifted the box and cruised to the door.

  Mateo stepped in front of her. “Did you find a place yet?”

  “No. Haven’t had much time to look.” Everly sidestepped him and tried to shift the box so she could free up a hand to open the front door.

  Mateo ended up opening it for her. “I can take that to your truck for you.”

  She wanted to laugh. A little late for him to become her white knight now. “I’ve got it.” Without a good-bye, she moved swiftly down the porch steps and practically jogged to her vintage pickup. Owen had sold it to her for next to nothing so she’d have a way to haul things around on the farm. It was a joke compared to her Beemer back in San Francisco, but she loved how it sputtered and bounced along as though it was never in a hurry.

  Today, though, she was in a hurry. After she loaded the box into the passenger’s side, she scrambled to climb into the driver’s seat. Mateo stood on the porch watching her. Leave me alone, she wanted to yell out the window. Instead, she kept her posture tall and straight as she drove past.

  Once the farm disappeared from the rearview mirror, she let her shoulders slump, but she couldn’t let herself wallow. Compared to what Kenna was going through right now, Everly didn’t have problems.

  The Harts lived on a street that was part of the newer neighborhood in town. Instead of old craftsman and bungalow-style homes that had been built when the town was settled, the street was lined with cookie-cutter style homes. Nice, but also redundant and obviously controlled by one of those neighborhood covenants that ensured houses would each be a slightly different shade of beige.

  She pulled up in front of the one on the corner, where Halloween decorations already covered the front yard—cute little ghosts and scarecrows that were more lovable than frightening. It was your average family home, a place where little kids ran in and out, judging from the bikes and scooters parked at the front door. It seemed impossible that a criminal lived here. Even a white-collar criminal. God, these poor kids. How in the world would they ever understand what their father had done?

  Everly cut the engine and got out of the truck, somehow maneuvering the large box off the seat. Teetering under the extra weight, she managed to slam the door shut with her foot and then carefully made her way to the front door, stepping over and around the children’s toys as if she was navigating an obstacle course. When she finally made it to the porch, she had to lean over a Batman bike to knock.

  The sounds of trampling, skidding feet and giggling little boys brought a smile to her face.

  “Don’t answer it!” The door muffled Kenna’s voice, but Everly still caught the panic.

  Despite the command, the door swung open. “Oopsie.” Jake stared up at Everly with a bashful grin.

  “Hi there,” she said cheerfully.

  “Hi.” He drew the word out into a grand announcement.

  Good lord, what a little cherub.

  Kenna came scurrying around a corner and into the foyer. “Jake, I told you not to answer the door.” She looked up. “Oh. Everly.” A relieved sigh slipped out. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m making a special delivery from the Farm café. I figured maybe you could use a couple of ready-made dinners this week.”

  “What kind of dinners?” Jake asked as if suspicious that there might be vegetables involved.

  “Good dinners,” Everly assured him. “Really good. Lasagna and a yummy roast with sweet potatoes and a quiche.” The kid did not look convinced, so she went on. “And special brownies with chocolate chunks.”

  That did it. He jumped and squealed. “Brownies! Brownies!”

  She turned her attention back to Kenna, who stood frozen behind her son, gaping at Everly with watery eyes. “You…brought us food?” That last word broke apart into a sob.

  Wow, yeah. Today must be one of the rough days when sadness made every muscle drag. She remembered them well. “Hey, Jake.” Everly knelt to the boy’s level. “I have an idea. Why don’t you and your brother go pick up some of the bikes and scooters outside and organize them real nice for your mom? Then maybe you can have a brownie for being such a big helper.”

  “Really?” Jake’s eyes went as wide as the scarecrow’s outside. “A brownie for breakfast?”

  “Maybe.” Was that against the rules? She’d forgotten that it wasn’t even nine o’clock. On a normal day, the boys probably didn’t get chocolate for breakfast, but it seemed that Kenna was in no state to answer the question. She’d turned away from the door, but Everly could hear her crying.

  “Yes! A brownie for breakfast!” Jake shot down the hall and disappeared. “Come on, Benny! We’ll go out the garage!” he yelled seconds before a door slammed.

  Kenna didn’t move. She’d lodged her shoulder against the wall, her upper body hunched and her face hidden in her hands.

  God, this poor woman. “Um…can I bring the food to the kitchen for you?” Everly asked quietly.

  Kenna nodded, drying her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Of course. I’m sorry, it’s just…” The words dissolved into more tears. “No one has come by to bring me anything. Only to yell at me or question me.” She
moved away from the wall and led Everly to the kitchen. “I think this is maybe the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  Everly doubted that, but she accepted the gratitude with a smile. She set the box on a decent-sized island covered in granite. “I’ve made it a habit to bring food to people who are going through tough times,” she said. “Then dinner is one less thing they have to worry about. I figure it’s one small way I can help.”

  Kenna started to cry again. “It’s not small. Not at all.” She snatched a tissue and blew her nose while Everly took a quick look around. Both the woman and her house epitomized grade-school teacher. There were chore charts with stickers hanging on the stainless refrigerator and canisters of markers, scissors, and colored pencils organized neatly on the counter.

  “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” The woman blotted her face with the Kleenex.

  Everly had said the same thing repeatedly after she’d learned the truth about what Andrew had done. I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I’m sorry I didn’t know. I’m sorry I didn’t stop him. Now that she heard Kenna say it, she realized how ridiculous it sounded. “You need to stop apologizing.”

  Kenna’s eyes widened, but Everly didn’t regret the sternness in her tone. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “But I should’ve noticed something.” Kenna slumped onto a stool. “I should’ve figured it out.”

  Everly had said those exact same words to herself. She still said them sometimes. But truthfully, her only mistake had been loving someone—trusting someone—who took advantage of it. Andrew had been the perfect boyfriend for six years—thoughtful and attentive and supportive. Those were the only sides of him he’d let her see. “You are not responsible for another person’s shitty choices. Not even your husband’s.” The force in the words drew Kenna’s eyes to hers. “My ex-fiancé did some terrible things.” The admission came with a shudder. “Things I never dreamed he was capable of.”