Clueless Cowboy

by Mary Connealy

  Emily nodded her head. “All right. But it’s probably a mistake. We might see people I know in Rapid City, too. I’m just trying to protect your secret.”

  “I appreciate that.” Jake smiled at her. “You haven’t ever told anyone, have you? I can’t believe that.”

  “I gave you my word.” Emily crossed her arms.

  “Yes, you did. I’m learning that really means something. I’m learning a lot of things out here.”

  “How about no?”

  “No? What are you talking about? Don’t you want to help me buy the appliances?”

  “Have you learned to say no? Are you ready to face your old life?”

  She’d told him to learn to laugh, and to cry, and to say no. Well, he’d never laughed so much in his life. And he’d shed a few tears of joy over the survival of his baby calf. But Emily didn’t really understand what he had to contend with at Hanson and Coltrain. How could he turn his back on people in such dreadful need?

  He tried not to think about it, but that night the anticipation over the trip kept him awake. He, who had jetted to his ski lodge in Aspen and owned a condo in Chicago, places he’d inherited from his wealthy father, was excited over a cookstove.

  His thoughts chased in circles. People were dying somewhere in the world, right now, and he could help save them. What about those heavy hay bales? He was needed here.

  He wanted to stay. He wanted his animals and his garden. He wanted Stephie holding his hand, her eyes full of trust. He wanted to work alongside Emily for the rest of his life.

  He wanted Emily.

  Jake’s hands started shaking. Being part of a family was like stepping into pure darkness and hoping the black didn’t hide a bottomless pit. Only now, as he lay in bed, did he realize how terrified he was of taking this risk. He prayed for the courage to choose love; he prayed for God to lead him. But how could God want Jake to turn his back on people suffering, bleeding, dying?

  When he’d walked in on Tish with another man, well, he’d been disgusted, but he’d known what kind of woman she was. That was one of the reasons he’d kept company with her, and there’d never been a chance he’d love Tish.

  Emily was different. She had the power to hurt him. No one, not his mother or father, no girlfriend, had ever cared enough about him to stay. He had no control over his parents, except the confused feeling that if he’d been more lovable somehow maybe they’d have loved him. But the girlfriends—he’d had very few because his job made him leave town suddenly and for extended periods of time.

  It came to him in a rush. He wanted to stand next to Emily, holding her hand, as she gave birth to their child. Then, over the joyous image, washed visions of lives lost because he was too late evacuating a building.

  He sank back onto his mattress. For all his doubts he was sure of two things: He had to deal with Hanson and Coltrain, and he had no peace about abandoning his work. If he left here to face Sid Coltrain and sever his ties to his old life, he might never be back. He knew he still hadn’t learned to say no.

  Until he did, he and Emily could never be together.

  Twenty-two

  “I’ve got him.” Sid slammed the phone down.

  “You’re sure?” Tish came out looking artfully disheveled.

  “I’ve got a flight out of O’Hare in two hours and a helicopter on standby in Rapid City. Wear that red dress.” It took her two hours to get that casual look, Sid thought with a sneer.

  “But how will you get him to come back?” Tish’s crimson nails fluffed her blond curls, looking like blood dripping through her hair.

  “Let me call the office. There have to be orphans dying somewhere.” He listened a few minutes, then rapped some orders into the phone and slammed down the receiver.

  “Move it, Tish. There’s a limo waiting out front to take us to the airport.”

  ❧

  Emily might as well have ridden to town with Cowlick in the seat beside her. The little cow would have had more to say. An occasional moo. . .something.

  Yesterday he had begged her to go along, as if buying a stove was so difficult. Now he barely looked at them.

  Stephie kept patting him on the knee and trying to talk to him. The ride to Rapid City would have been accomplished in total silence if it hadn’t been for Stephie. She was probably in seventh heaven, talking to her heart’s content.

  Emily’s stomach twisted because the only thing that could be bothering Jake this much was leaving.

  Maybe he was fighting it now, but he would leave. He had too much honor to hide for long. When he’d healed, he’d return to his old life. She’d known it from the first. But knowing hadn’t protected Emily’s heart.

  Once the city finally came into sight, they drove straight to the mall and she led the way inside. She snagged the first employee she found and said, “Give me the cheapest stove and refrigerator you’ve got.”

  The heavyset man arched his eyebrows. “Gas or electric?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Emily thought she must have looked determined because he didn’t try to talk her up to something better.

  Jake paid with a wad of hundreds.

  Their big day out was over by eleven o’clock. Emily drove straight to Jake’s house. She didn’t bother with the field roads, and even when they passed someone she knew, she never warned him to keep his head down. She helped him unload the stove and refrigerator, and hook them up. The gas flame jumped to life with a quiet whoosh, then Stephie ran out to see the calf.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” Emily switched off the flame with a sharp click, then faced Jake. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the stove.

  Jake sank onto a kitchen chair and looked up. It was the first time he’d made eye contact all morning. “I did a lot of thinking last night.”

  “Come to any decisions?”

  “I don’t want to go.” Suddenly his eyes, so dull all morning, blazed with a fire that seemed to come straight from his soul. “I don’t want to leave you.”

  He erupted out of the chair, sending it sliding backward until it crashed against a wall and toppled over with a bang. He pulled her into his arms.

  Emily wrapped her arms around him, wanting to cling, knowing it would do no good. Her face pressed against his chest, she said, “You don’t want to go. But you have to. I understand.”

  Jake’s hand slid into her hair, left loose for the trip to the city. “How can you understand when I don’t?” He tilted her face up so she had to look at him.

  “It’s not so hard to understand. You don’t have anything to offer me as long as you’re running.”

  “It’s because of you I’ve found the courage to go back. I want to promise I’ll return, but. . .” His voice faltered.

  Just when she was sure she couldn’t love him any more than she already did, she loved him for not making a promise he couldn’t keep. “When will you go?”

  “Soon, but I’m not leaving without telling you what you mean to me. Emily, I—”

  The house shook. Dirt hit the kitchen window and the glass rattled against the sill. Stephie must not have pulled the back door all the way shut because it flew open and banged against the wall.

  Emily looked out the window. A helicopter landed on Jake’s pumpkin patch.

  Twenty-three

  Jake stepped to the back door. Dirt blew in with stinging force.

  Emily saw the door of the helicopter open and a dark-suited man stepped out, followed by a woman dressed in red.

  “Sid.” Jake sounded as if he were uttering profanity.

  Emily waited to hear the woman’s name, but Jake stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Emily watched Jake’s arms flail. The other man appeared to be completely calm.

  She didn’t take her eyes off the confrontation until the door opened, admitting the lady in red Emily had seen emerge along with Sid. Emily looked at the silky dress, tight enough to have been spray painted on, short enough to wade through the worst mudhole without damage, low-cut
enough to nurse a baby while barely stretching the neckline. She glanced down at her own attire—her best T-shirt and blue jeans. She noticed a greasy smear on her shirt that must have rubbed off the stove as they’d hauled it in.

  The woman’s blond hair was a perfect mass of curls, miraculously undisturbed by the rotor wind. Her makeup was flawless, her lips the same shade of red as her dress, shoes, and nails. Long claws reached for Emily.

  It took Emily too long to realize she was being offered a handshake. By the time she figured it out, she felt like a bumpkin.

  “I’m Tish. I’m Jake’s fiancée. And you are. . . ?”

  The announcement hit Emily like a blow. She managed an awkward shake. “I’m Emily Johannson.”

  “It’s always nice to meet the woman keeping Jake. . .happy.”

  The comment was so loaded it left Emily speechless.

  “He has to get away once in a while. Sid and I understand.”

  “He. . .he’s done this before?” Something wasn’t right. Emily looked into golden brown eyes that gleamed like a predator’s.

  “He works in a terribly high-pressure job. We indulge him if we can, but eventually he has to come home.” The bombshell smiled kindly, but the kindness didn’t reach those eyes.

  Emily remained silent. There seemed to be no point. Whatever game these three were playing, she was sitting in the stands.

  “I hope you understand that you have to let him go. He was honest with you I hope.” Pity oozed through Tish’s scarlet lips.

  Emily couldn’t stand another syllable. “Jake’s always been honest with me.”

  “It’s not the first time he’s taken a break from our relationship.” A glint of pity in Tish’s eyes humiliated Emily. “But in the end he’s mine.” Tish raised her hand again and, as she was meant to, Emily noticed a huge diamond on Tish’s hand.

  All she knew about Jake told Emily this was a lie.

  Stephie came in crying, her hair flying loose from her braids. “I’ve got dirt in my eyes.”

  Emily guided Stephie to the bathroom, glad to escape. She was done rinsing Stephie’s eyes with cool water when Jake came in. He opened the door to the little refuge Emily had found.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  Emily knew no amount of crying or begging would sway him, not that she would ever demean herself by doing that. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

  Stephie didn’t fling herself into his arms. Instead she backed against Emily. “I’ll miss you.”

  Emily rested her hand on Stephie’s head and her little sister turned her face into Emily’s stomach.

  “Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” Whatever she meant to him, it wasn’t enough to make him stay.

  “There’s been a typhoon in the Philippines. Tens of thousands of people are homeless. There’s no water.” Jake ran a hand into his hair and Emily realized he’d never gotten a haircut since he arrived. The bleak look that had faded from his eyes was back and the lines around his mouth were deep, pulling his lips downward. It was like he’d lost all the peace of mind he’d found after one quick meeting with his business partner.

  Emily’s heart ached for him.

  “They’re calling in every man in the country who can help with the job.”

  “Jake, I want you to know I—”

  Tish soundlessly stepped into the doorway behind Jake.

  “You what?” Hope glowed in Jake’s eyes. But Emily couldn’t say what was in her heart in front of Tish.

  “I. . .understand.”

  He leaned forward, and for a moment she thought she saw promises in his eyes. She thought he would take her in his arms and kiss her and say he’d be back.

  But instead he reached one hand out and rested it in Stephie’s hair. “Take care of Lucky for me, okay?”

  Stephie nodded. “We’ll take care of everything.”

  Jake left his hand on Stephie’s head like a benediction. Then he shared a final look of longing with Emily. He turned and swept past Tish. Tish gave Emily a single triumphant smirk and flounced away.

  Emily didn’t come out of the bathroom until she heard the roar of the helicopter die in the distance.

  “Is Jake coming back, Emily?”

  Emily struggled to be brave for Stephie. “I don’t know.”

  She wondered if it would be okay to talk to Helen Murray now. She’d wait until Jake gave her permission. If that meant waiting forever, then so be it.

  Stephie squeezed Emily’s hand. “You liked him a lot, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” She didn’t know what else to say. “He was fun to have around.”

  Stephie, with the resignation in her voice of someone who had lived a great many years, said, “When you weren’t saving his life.”

  They walked home, holding hands, Lucky dancing at their heels.

  Twenty-four

  A month and no word.

  No phone calls, nothing. No disaster took this long to clean up. He had to be home. But he wasn’t here, so that meant that this wasn’t home. He had returned to Chicago and his old life.

  Emily tried to figure out how she could have found him so irresistible. The reason, when it finally came to her, was so simple it was a miracle she hadn’t thought of it sooner.

  She loved him.

  She loved him in a way that she had never known existed. She loved him like he was the other half of herself, just as her father had loved her mother, and her father had died from a broken heart. Emily knew she was too young and strong, and too desperately needed by Stephie, to let herself curl up and die. So she just died inside.

  She went to church but she couldn’t stand to visit, not even with Buffy, who had always been so friendly. Stephie rode to Sunday school with the Murrays, Emily slipped in late and hurried away. Stephie seemed to understand and cooperated. Or maybe Stephie was just heartbroken, too.

  Emily’s only consolation was that Jake didn’t know how she felt. He and Tish probably laughed over the little country hick that adored him. It made her sick to think about Jake with that beautiful woman. How many times had she worn her ratty work boots and old jeans? She remembered Tish’s sleek perfection and compared it to herself, tossing bales, soaked with sweat.

  It was Saturday, so Stephie was around somewhere, running in the woods probably. School had started up, so most of Emily’s days stretched long and silent. Emily did her best during the day to work and nurture her anger, but the nights were torture.

  She dreamed of him. She stayed up late working, trying to avoid the memory. When she did sleep, she woke often with his name on her lips, and more sleep was impossible. Instead of lying in bed, torturing herself, she’d get up and start her day before sunrise.

  She’d never said the words, but she’d loved him, maybe from the first day.

  She wondered if he could even remember her name.

  She was in her second week of building a rock garden on the side of the hill between her house and the woods that led to Jake’s. They had an old rock pile overgrown with weeds. For years her father had tossed stones he dug up in the fields in the same spot. It was about a hundred yards down the hill from her new landscaping project. She was well on her way toward using up the whole collection. The backbreaking labor and the brutally aching muscles fit Emily’s mood perfectly.

  Today, with a blazing sun she would have ridiculed Jake for working under, she rolled a huge slab of limestone up the last few feet of the slope. On her knees, throwing every ounce of her strength into each inch of progress she gained, she counted off the days Jake had been gone. She’d gotten up to thirty-four days and started counting again. . .twice.

  Someone touched her on the shoulder. With a startled twist, Emily jumped to her feet and almost fell over.

  Helen Murray stood behind her, smiling. “Emily, I love what you’re doing here. It’s going to be beautiful.”

  Emily steadied herself, her heart slamming in her chest.

  Helen gasped as she got a good look at Emily. �
��What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Helen’s eyes moved up and down Emily’s body, pausing for a long time on her face.

  “No, you just startled me.” With one look at Helen’s expression, Emily knew her neighbor wasn’t asking about her jumpiness.

  “You don’t look well. You’ve lost weight. How hard have you been working on this?” Suddenly Helen started looking around the whole place.

  There wasn’t a weed anywhere. The fence and buildings had been painted. The vegetable garden and flower beds were picture perfect.

  “Emily, are you getting ready for something? The place looks wonderful.” Helen’s wise eyes went back to Emily’s face.

  “I can’t talk about it.” Then Emily started crying. She covered her mouth with the back of one grubby hand to hold back the sobs.

  Helen held Emily’s eyes, then, with a sad smile, she brushed several sweat-soaked hairs off Emily’s forehead, tucking them gently behind one ear. “Then it must be a man.”

  Emily shrugged her shaking shoulders and wearily nodded.

  “It might help to tell me.” Helen’s work-roughened hand rested on Emily’s shoulder and urged her down onto the rock Emily had been pushing.

  “It might,” she murmured through her tears.

  “Where’s Stephie, honey?”

  “She’s playing in the woods.”

  “You want me to call Carl and have him come and get her? We could talk in private then. For as long as you need to.”

  Emily shrugged again. She just didn’t know what to do anymore. She sat for a long time, shedding all of her long overdue tears as Helen patted her back and made all the perfect sounds of comfort mothers know so well. When Emily’s tears finally ended, Helen took her arm and guided her toward the house.

  “I haven’t heard from you all summer. I’ve tried to call a dozen times.” Helen looked around the groomed yard. “Guess you’ve been outside, huh?”

  Emily nodded.

  They entered the house and Helen paused. The kitchen gleamed like it had been scrubbed by Mr. Clean on steroids. “You’ve been working inside some, too.”