True-Blue Cowboy

by Sara Richardson

  “Aw, hell,” Cash said, looking in his rearview mirror.

  In a flash he pulled onto the shoulder of the road, grabbed his radar gun, and pointed it at the window.

  Seconds later a black sedan flew by—a sedan she recognized all too well.

  Cash clocked the car at eighty miles per hour. Then he threw on his lights and put the Tahoe in drive.

  “Aw, hell,” Olivia mumbled, parroting his words.

  The car pulled over as quickly as it had passed, and Cash slowed to a stop.

  “So,” she said. “When is it a good time to tell you that’s my father?”

  Cash let his head thud against his seatback. “Of course it is.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Olivia’s father would have been enough, but when Cash approached the driver’s side window, he could hear the crescendo of voices with the glass still up.

  He knocked, but the driver’s back was to him as he engaged in a heated argument with the woman next to him.

  “Oh my God,” Olivia said, coming up next to him.

  “This is official police business,” he said. “It’s safer if you stay in the car with Dixie.”

  She let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Well, that’s both my parents in there.” She pressed her nose to the glass. “And Gran, too! Good Lord, they sent the cavalry after me!”

  Cash pounded on the window with a little more force, and this seemed to get the occupants’ attention.

  The glass lowered, and the car fell silent—until Olivia poked her head over his shoulder.

  “Livvy!” her mom yelled from the passenger seat. “Oh, sweetie, I was so worried. I told your stubborn father to slow down, but does he listen? Even his own mother told him he was driving too fast, and—”

  “Elizabeth!” Olivia’s father yelled. “There’s a damn sheriff at the window!”

  “I can see the sheriff, George. He’s standing right next to our daughter, the reason we’re here.” She rolled her eyes.

  Jesus. This was what Olivia had grown up with?

  Olivia’s grandmother met her gaze and Cash watched her mouth, I’m sorry.

  “Just remember that I let you ride with us,” her father continued. “Even with a GPS you still would have ended up halfway to Vegas before you’d realized you made a wrong turn.”

  “Oh, yes,” the woman responded. “Thank the heavens I came with you so you could endanger us all with your daredevil driving and then get arrested.” She turned her attention to Cash. People usually did this a lot sooner in the whole pulled-over-for-speeding scenario. “You are going to arrest him, aren’t you?”

  “Enough!” Olivia yelled.

  Cash crossed his arms and took a step back.

  “What are you even doing here? All of you?” she asked. “I didn’t ask you to come. I’m a grown woman. I should be allowed to take some time for myself.”

  Her father threw up his hands. “You didn’t answer any of our texts. Is that something a grown woman does? We were worried!”

  Olivia shook her head, then pointed an accusing finger toward the back seat. “You promised, Gran. I trusted you.”

  The old woman’s eyes narrowed, but instead of responding from where she sat, she opened the door and got out, standing to face her granddaughter.

  The two women were the same height and even had the same slender build. But where Olivia’s wild brown curls whipped around her face in the breeze, her grandmother’s white hair was short and straight. But they both had the same fire in their brown eyes, and for a second Cash’s mind flashed forward fifty years. He imagined himself in his early eighties, Olivia looking much like her grandmother did now, and the thought knocked the wind clear out of his lungs.

  “Anna,” the older Belle woman said, holding out her hand to Cash but still staring straight at her granddaughter.

  “Cash,” he said, giving her a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Anna. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  This got her attention, and she looked up at him. “Let me guess,” she said. “The letters?”

  “The letters.”

  “Can’t say I had any clue about your existence,” she added. “Unless, of course, you’ve only just met my granddaughter because you’ve arrested her for whatever reason.”

  He chuckled. “No, ma’am. That was last Saturday.”

  Anna shook her head and laughed, too.

  Olivia waved a hand between them.

  “Um…hello? Remember me—the person you’re talking about as if she’s not even here?”

  “Sheriff, may I have a word alone with my granddaughter?”

  “Am I getting a ticket?” Olivia’s father said, still sitting in the car.

  “Yes!” Cash, Anna, and Olivia’s mother said in unison.

  Cash pressed his hand to the top of the car and leaned down to the window. “And if I hear any more arguing between you two, I’ll write you both up for disturbing the peace.”

  This effectively shut them both up.

  He nodded to Anna and Olivia, a silent I’ll take it from here, and the two women set off a bit down the road where they found a slice of privacy in a bus depot.

  It wasn’t his business what they were talking about, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, so he kept himself busy by heading back to his truck and writing a ticket to the second San Francisco Belle he’d met this week.

  “Mr. Belle,” he said, handing the man the citation. “You were close to thirty miles over the speed limit. I’m letting you off easy by giving you a ticket that says only half as much. This way you don’t have to go to traffic court in Oak Bluff.”

  The man let out a relieved breath. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

  Cash shook his head. “That’s not the end of our bargain. I’m gonna need your word on something—both of you—and I hope there’s honor to that word, sir. Ma’am.”

  Olivia’s parents both nodded.

  “I’ve known your daughter for a week, which isn’t long. And I don’t pretend to have learned the entirety of her family history in that time, so I know what I’m about to say may be overstepping, but I’m going to say it anyway.

  “I don’t reckon the end of a marriage is easy, and it gets even more complicated when children are involved. But I think Olivia’s been hurting for a lot of years, and maybe it’s time you two put your differences aside long enough to ask her why.”

  Elizabeth Belle’s jaw tightened, and she narrowed her eyes. “You got a lot of nerve, Sheriff. You don’t know anything about our family, about Olivia.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “I have a hell of a lot of nerve, but it’s only because I’m in love with your daughter and want to see her happy—even if it’s over two hundred miles from here.” He handed Mr. Belle his ticket. “I do apologize for any disrespect, but I hope we have an understanding here.”

  He straightened just in time to see Olivia and her grandmother approaching, hand in hand. Both women’s eyes were damp. Anna let Olivia’s hand go when they got to the car.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sheriff,” the older woman said. Then she shook his hand and got back in the car. “Close the window and turn on some music, George. Let’s let these two have a moment.”

  George Belle seemed none too happy to give Cash a moment alone with his daughter, but thankfully, it looked like Anna’s word was gold.

  Olivia worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “You’re going home,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

  She nodded. “I can’t keep hiding,” she said. “I have to go back, face the mess I made, and try to clean it up.”

  He’d known this was his last day with her, but somehow it hadn’t fully registered until now.

  “Time to turn back into a pumpkin, huh?” he asked, forcing a smile.

  She laughed, and a tear leaked out the corner of one eye. “It always was. Maybe I should have answered their texts so you didn’t have to deal with all this.”

  He shrugged. “It’s all part of th
e job.”

  “See?” she said. “I’m not a fairy-tale princess. Just a woman who needs to stop pretending. Though I did enjoy playing make-believe with you.”

  His chest felt like it was caving in, but he wouldn’t put that weight on her. She had to go. Even if he somehow convinced her to stay in Oak Bluff, how would that be fair to her and figuring out what she really wanted?

  “I’m sorry for diminishing your reason for coming here,” he said. “I was frustrated, and it was a shit thing to do.”

  “Is that really what you believe? That I ran here for some silly letters that don’t mean anything?”

  He shook his head. “I think you ran here hoping the letters were the answer, and I get that. I really do. I just hope, now that you know they’re gone, you can still find what you’re looking for.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “You gonna go to your ex’s wedding?”

  He raised a brow. “I was sort of hoping you forgot about that.”

  She nudged his shoulder with hers. “Hey. If I have to face my future, don’t you think it’s about time you faced your past?”

  He laughed. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

  She smiled, and he realized how much he’d miss seeing her do that for him.

  “The sheriff and the reckless driver?”

  He shook his head. “I think we’re a little more than that.”

  He waited a beat, letting this moment—their parting—be her call.

  She stepped toward him—thank the stars—and splayed her hands on his chest. “We’re so much more than that.” Then she rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

  He didn’t care that they had an audience or that said audience was almost her entire family. Cash Hawkins kissed Olivia Belle with everything he had. He didn’t hold back. He didn’t worry about self-preservation. He just kissed her like it was the last time he ever would.

  Because it probably was.

  She melted into him, and for this one tiny pocket of time, he let himself forget there was anything other than her, right now, in his arms.

  Only when they both needed air did they part, though oxygen couldn’t compare to how much he realized he needed her.

  “I have something for you,” he said, letting his forehead rest against hers.

  “What?”

  He led her to the back of the Tahoe, where he opened the door and removed a shoe box. “I’m not good with gifts or good-byes, so just do me a favor and open it when I’m not around, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said. “But—I feel like this is too quick. I need to tell you—”

  “No,” he said. “You don’t. I think this will be easier if we leave—certain things—unsaid from here on out.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Easier for whom?”

  Him. Which he knew was selfish. But she already knew how he felt. Knowing her feelings either way wouldn’t change the fact that this was good-bye.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “How about you don’t answer my question and I don’t say anything else. Not even good—”

  He kissed her again.

  She was right. They shouldn’t say good-bye. Because the truth was, he couldn’t.

  Cash waited until Olivia’s father pulled back onto the road, and then he watched the car fade into the distance as they headed into town. When he climbed into the driver’s seat, he pulled the fancy cardstock envelope from the passenger visor and fished out the response card. Then he grabbed the pen from his shirt pocket, clicked it open, and checked off the box next to where it said Will attend. He even added a little note.

  Tara—

  So happy for you and Tim. Congratulations.

  All my best,

  Cash

  He stuck the card in the envelope and sealed it shut, closing the door on past heartache just in time to open a new one for Olivia Belle.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It didn’t take long to pack up her stuff. When you were used to living with one foot out the door, packing became second nature. But when Olivia opened the small closet in her room at the bed-and-breakfast, her breath caught in her throat when she stared head-on at that giant, poofy dress.

  “Nope,” she said aloud. “No one wears a bridesmaid dress twice. Plus, first step in facing my life is facing the fact that I’m not a part of Michael’s family anymore.” Which meant leaving the dress behind and telling him—in person—why she ran.

  She didn’t love him, not the way she was supposed to. But he didn’t love her either, and they’d both ignored the truth for far too long.

  She slid the closet door shut but then threw it open again, checking the floor. Then she looked under the bed, around the bed, in her small bathroom, to no avail. Nowhere in the room were the shoes—those gorgeous, clear, four-inch heeled pumps. It didn’t matter that she’d almost broken her ankle in them and had broken the shoe. They could be repaired, and it wasn’t as if she planned on getting arrested in them again. If worn and used properly, those shoes were spectacular. And they were gone.

  Then something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. On the striped upholstered chair in the corner of the room sat the still-unopened box from Cash. A shoe box.

  She sucked in a breath as she approached it, then picked it up and hugged it to her chest. The shoes were in there. She knew they were, but she couldn’t bring herself to open the lid, not while she was still here. Because if she confirmed her suspicions, she might never leave Oak Bluff.

  She let out something between a laugh and a sob. Because didn’t that just take the cake—Olivia Belle having wild and crazy thoughts of staying put.

  Instead she tucked the box under her arm and threw her weekender bag over her shoulder. Rose and Marcus were waiting at the foot of the stairs to help her to her car.

  “Thanks,” she said, a little teary. “But this is all I have.”

  Rose took the bag and the box from her anyway, then set it on the floor. “But how am I supposed to hug you with all of that in your arms?”

  Olivia laughed as the woman drew her into a warm embrace while Marcus quietly picked up her things and brought them out to her car.

  “When do you close on the offer?” she asked.

  Rose sighed. “The buyer has had some trouble getting a loan, but we’re hoping to finalize everything soon.”

  “What if the new owners don’t want to leave it a B and B?” Olivia asked. “Can you make it part of the sales agreement that this has to be a place for tourists to have a home away from home? Or that Trivial Pursuit on Wednesdays is a must or no deal? What about group dinner prep—or using fresh blueberries in the waffles?”

  Rose laughed. “Those are all very important stipulations, but I’m not sure we can make the sale contingent on those requests.”

  Olivia sighed. “Okay,” she said reluctantly. “But maybe just say you’ll think about it so I can sleep better tonight.”

  Rose grabbed her hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’ll think about it.”

  It was well past dark when she hit the outskirts of San Francisco. And though the first thing on tomorrow’s agenda was to face Michael, his family, and whatever came after that, tonight she just needed quiet—which was how she ended up in Gran and Pop’s spare room.

  Olivia sat in bed, a cup of tea on the nightstand, and the box from Cash beside her, staring at her, waiting for her to finally make a move.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Come in.”

  She’d expected Gran, but it was Pop. He sat down on the edge of her bed. He was a contradiction of a man just to look at him—in his worn jeans and flannel shirt hanging open over an old T-shirt, he looked more like a teen than a man of seventy-four. But then there was his tan but weathered skin and the thick salt-and-pepper hair that always seemed to need a trim.

  “Sounds like I missed one hell of a trip to your grandma’s hometown. Sorry I had to work this weekend, but you know…if the garage closes, people take their business elsewhe
re.”

  She laughed. “I know. And you’re the best mechanic, Pop, but when’s it gonna be time to retire?”

  He grinned. “When I stop loving what I do or when your grandmother tells me I have to. Whichever comes first. Now, let’s get back to this little trip of yours. I’ve heard a lot about it from Gran, but I think I’d like to hear your take on it.”

  He patted her feet, which were snuggled under the duvet.

  She shrugged. “Michael proposed, and I panicked.”

  “He proposed to you at his sister’s wedding?”

  She nodded. “I know. But he’d just heard from the co-op board that he could add a fiancée to the deed, and he was really excited.” She winced. It didn’t matter how many times she said it out loud or what kind of spin she tried to put on it, the proposal never got any better. But the truth of it was that she hadn’t wanted it to be better. She hadn’t wanted it to happen at all, and she wasn’t too sure Michael had either. “A little tacky, right? I mean, if I had said yes, that would have totally stolen the bride’s thunder.”

  Pop laughed. “I think your little disappearing act might have done that anyway.”

  She sipped her tea, then hugged a pillow to her chest. “I wanted to find the letters. Yours and Gran’s. I thought if I read them I could learn your secret.”

  This time Pop’s laugh was loud, straight from the belly. “Oh, darlin’, why in the hell would you want to see those? I was an idiot teenager who had no idea how to talk to girls. Hand me a wrench and pop the hood of any vehicle in existence, and I could talk for days. But I’m lucky your gran even answered my first letter let alone married me when I got back.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “I think you’re downplaying a great romance, Pop. But it doesn’t matter. The letters are gone.”

  “Look, I get that you’ve grown up with what looks like two extremes—your gran and me”—he groaned—“and then your dad and mom. Sometimes relationships work, and sometimes they implode so damned badly that you wonder how two people ever could have loved each other in the first place.”