Texan for the Taking

by Charlene Sands

  She rolled her eyes. Then a fissure of anger opened up quickly becoming one giant sinkhole of incensed emotion. “No. I’m not, but not because Brad isn’t wonderful. I just can’t get involved with him again. I did that last time after you scarred me with your brutal rejection. I ran into the arms of the first man who’d have me. It was Brad. I shamelessly seduced him the first week of college and gave him my virginity. I gave him what I’d wanted to give you. I gave him my body, because you didn’t want me and because I’d been unwanted since my mother died. And weeks later, when I turned up pregnant, the clichéd virgin too stupid to use protection, Brad was there for me. He loved me and offered to marry me.”

  Mason’s throat was working, as though he was taking a big gulp. He stood there in stony silence.

  “I almost went through with it, almost married him. But then I lost the baby, Mason. I lost my child and I was devastated. I broke up with Brad. I couldn’t marry a man I didn’t love. I hurt him badly, when all he wanted to do was take care of me. But you see, I couldn’t love Brad. Not when I was still in love with you.”

  “Drea, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” And she believed he was truly sorry—the emotion in his eyes was inescapable. “I never wanted to hurt you. Ever. You have to believe that.”

  Mason reached for her. Trembling, she moved out of his grasp, her heart breaking again. Yet it felt good to finally get the truth out, to lighten her heavy load.

  “I loved you, even though I hated you, too. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s true. I’ve never stopped loving you, Mason Boone. And all I want from you now is to leave me alone. Please. Let’s get through the weekend, do our jobs, honor the people we’ve loved the most and then be done with it. Can you do that for me, Mason? Can you leave me alone?”

  Mason’s eyes grew wide; she could almost swear he was tearing up. His expression was raw, full of sympathy.

  He reached out for her again and once again she backed away. She didn’t want to be his friend. She didn’t want to see him after this weekend. It was too hard.

  “Please.”

  Mason finally relented, giving the smallest nod of agreement.

  This time when Drea walked away, he didn’t follow.

  But she knew that Mason was probably still standing there, unable to move. Unable to register all that she’d confessed. She’d shocked him and worried him and made him ache with the pain he’d put her through. He probably thought she hated him again.

  But that wasn’t true.

  She couldn’t hate him.

  She would probably go to her grave loving him.

  * * *

  Mason woke with an intense headache. He’d drunk half a bottle of bourbon last night, but even with all that mind-numbing alcohol, he couldn’t forget the pain on Drea’s face, the words spoken straight from her heart. He couldn’t believe what she’d gone through at seventeen years of age. He’d been responsible for that. He knew that now. He thought he’d been doing right by her by turning her away, but the honest truth was he should’ve never let his fascination with the olive-skinned beauty mar his judgment. He’d known she was a mixed-up kid, missing her mother, having to deal with an alcoholic father. If Mason hadn’t gotten involved with her in the first place, none of it would’ve happened.

  He pushed his hand through his hair. Just thinking about how alone Drea must’ve felt when she’d learned of her pregnancy, how scared she must’ve been, filled him with guilt. And then to lose her child...well, he knew something about that. The pain never really went away. It lingered under the surface and every time you saw a child on the street, whether laughing or crying, happy or sad, you wondered. What would your child be like had he or she lived?

  It deadened a part of you and you hurt quietly, without anyone ever knowing.

  A sudden knock at his door sounded more like a fire alarm going off. “What?”

  “It’s Aunt Lottie, Mason. Are you all right? We thought you’d be down by now.”

  “Who’s we?” he asked, trying to sort through the cobwebs in his head.

  “Larissa’s parents are here.”

  “Holy hell.” He jolted up from the bed. What time was it?

  Within ten minutes, he was showered and dressed, his head still hurting like a son of a bitch as he walked into the parlor to greet his in-laws. He was in a fog, but there was one thing he was crystal-clear about this morning.

  Drea had said she loved him.

  And he couldn’t get that out of his head.

  “Paul and Wendy, good to see you.” Mason shook hands with Paul Landon and then gave Wendy an embrace. She was a petite woman, much smaller than Larissa had been, but her hug was fierce and affectionate. He hugged her back with equal intensity. They’d all been through hell, and that tended to bring people closer.

  They drank coffee and ate pastries, catching up on news. The Landons would stay in town for the all-important fund-raiser, which started tonight with the HeART auction.

  Mason had a thousand things to oversee today, but this morning was reserved for Larissa and her parents. The time had finally come for him to drive them all to the site of Larissa’s grave.

  Mason visited monthly, taking a bouquet of flowers for his wife and unborn child. He grieved silently, and today, on the anniversary of Larissa’s death, he’d grieve along with her parents.

  They paid their respects on grounds that were impeccably groomed. It was a serene resting place. There were wrought-iron-and-wood benches under old mesquite trees; bold, beautiful statues; water stations and two chapels on the property. Mason had donated the benches; Larissa’s name was engraved on the one closest to her grave.

  They all stood together, laying down flowers, saying prayers, and then he walked away to give the Landons a bit of privacy.

  A short time later, he felt a hand on his arm and turned to find Wendy’s soft, caring eyes on him. “Mason, this is a hard day for you.”

  He nodded. “For you, too.”

  “Yes, it is. But what you’re doing this weekend is a good thing. It’s something that will make a difference. Paul and I feel that it takes some of the pain away. I think it’s time to move forward, hard as it is. Building a cardiac wing at the hospital is a great testament to Larissa’s memory. And to so many others. We can’t look back anymore, Mason. We have to look ahead.”

  He nodded, though he felt pulled in two directions. He’d clung to his grief for so long, he almost didn’t know himself without it.

  “You should give yourself a break. You’ve mourned a long time. Maybe it’s time to start a new life,” she said. “Guilt-free. You deserve that, Mason. No one has honored a love more than you have.”

  “Thank you, Wendy.”

  She slipped an envelope into his hand. He thought it was a donation for the fund-raiser until he recognized the handwriting as Larissa’s. “What’s this?”

  “I don’t know. It’s sealed. But when Larissa was sick she gave it to me, trusting me to give it to you. She said specifically to give it to you in two years.”

  Two years? “You’ve had it all this time.”

  She nodded. “It was her wish.”

  “Okay, thank you,” he said, not knowing what to make of it. But he wouldn’t open the letter now. No, he needed privacy...and courage. It had taken him an entire year before he could dream about her at night without breaking down, eighteen months before he could watch videos of the two of them together. But to read words written by her when she’d been alive... That would require something he didn’t know he had. Just holding the letter in his hand unsettled him. He slipped it into his jacket pocket.

  Wendy seemed to understand his need to read it alone, to keep this last moment between them private.

  An hour later, with the Landons promising to return this evening for the auction, Mason climbed the steps of his home. But he turned when he heard Drea’s sweet laughter.
She was walking with Sean Manfred, and they were obviously enjoying each other’s company.

  After the way they’d left off last night, he didn’t think she’d want to see him. But the sound of her voice beckoned him and he turned and walked toward them.

  “Hey, Mason.” Sean’s tone was friendly. “We were just going over the plans for the concert and dance tomorrow. The stage looks great. Drea’s got everything under control.”

  “She always does,” Mason said, meaning it.

  Drea didn’t hesitate to smile, and that smile reached down deep and battered the heck out of him. Apparently, she was still the grown-up of the two of them, forging ahead for the sake of the event.

  “Thank you. I think we’re all set for the art auction tonight. The tent is up and the committee is busting their buns to have everything in place. The art has all come in, and it’s impressive.”

  “Can’t wait to see it,” Mason told Drea.

  “It’s just a precursor to tomorrow. That’s our big, big day,” she stated, more to Sean than to him. “We have a dozen wheels turning, and hopefully, there will be no glitches. I’m happy to say the tickets for both the Fun Day and the Dinner-Dance and Dream Date are sold out. Thanks to you, Sean. I think all the high school girls in three counties bought up every raffle ticket.”

  “Somebody save me,” he joked, his eyes wide.

  “Not to fear, your date will be chaperoned.”

  “By you?” he asked in a hopeful tone of voice.

  “No, sorry. I’ll be gone by then. But I promise you’ll have a good time.”

  “Are you leaving right after the event?” Sean asked. Mason wanted to know, too.

  “My flight leaves on Sunday night.”

  Mason’s throat tightened up. His chest hurt like hell.

  “Hey, Drea, can I have a word with you?” It was Brad Williamson. He’d walked up from the festival area, his eyes only on Drea. Mason clenched his teeth. Sure, he’d tied one on last night, but his sour stomach had nothing to do with bourbon right now. Why wouldn’t wonderful Brad Williamson, the guy who’d loved Drea and probably still did, get lost?

  “Hi, Brad,” Drea said. “I didn’t expect to see you until tonight.”

  He scratched his head, looking too conveniently perplexed. “Lottie had a good idea, something that would help the cause, and I wanted to run it by you.”

  “What is it?”

  “I could give away free signed copies of my book during the festival tomorrow, if you can squeeze me in at the last minute. I have author copies I’d like to donate.”

  Drea’s face lit up. “That’s a great idea. Excuse us a minute,” she said, looking at Sean.

  She walked off with Brad, practically rubbing shoulders with the guy.

  Sean watched her go. “She’s really amazing,” he said to Mason. The kid had a bad case of hero worship.

  Mason nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Are you two...a couple?”

  Mason looked at Sean. “No, we’re not a couple. Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged. “Back in LA, I thought you were. You seemed kinda flawless together.”

  Flawless... That word struck him. They had been flawless together, two parts of a whole. But that was back at the beach, when everything seemed surreal.

  “We just work well together.” Mason said, feeling the lie down to his snakeskin boots.

  “Yeah... I guess,” Sean said.

  He wasn’t sure the kid believed him.

  He wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  Ten

  Standing inside Katie’s Kupcakes’ decorating booth, Drea nibbled at the raspberry cream cheese frosting, then took a giant bite of Katie’s signature cupcake. “Mmm, this is the best, my friend.” She licked frosting off her finger and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “You have outdone yourself.”

  Katie shook her head, her eyes bright. “You’re the one who’s outdone herself. Look around. This was your brainchild. Whatever money is raised, you’re the one behind it.”

  “I had help. The volunteers have really come through,” she said, thinking about Mason and how on board he’d been from the get-go. He’d been instrumental in donating his property, his time and his support to get this project off the ground in a month.

  She was putting on a good show for everyone, hoping to keep the spirit of the event alive, while inside, her heart was broken. Totally, sadly broken. Tomorrow afternoon would be here before she knew it and she’d be leaving behind people she loved. Her father, her friends and...Mason. Her pain was very real, very frustrating.

  The festival was in full swing and she was thankful to see the vendors’ booths crowded with paying customers. Almost all the businesses in town had either made donations or offered to sell their goods at no cost to raise money for the cause. Children were taking pony rides, food and beverages were being sold, and pretty soon Katie would be swamped with young cupcake makers.

  Last night’s auction had been successful. Every item had been purchased. Drea wouldn’t know the final weekend tally for some time, but all in all, things were going smoothly.

  Her father walked up and kissed her cheek, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Hi, sweetheart,” he said.

  “Hi, Daddy. Glad you made it out today.”

  “You’re looking good, Mr. M,” Katie said. “Want a cupcake?”

  “Ah, thank you, Katie. But actually, I came to see if I can help you girls today.”

  Katie glanced at Drea and then back at him. “Sure. I could use a hand in here. Gonna need to keep the cupcakes and frosting flowing when the booth opens for decorating.”

  “Glad to help,” he said.

  Drea and her father had come to terms with the past, and ever since then, their relationship had flourished. He was back to being her dad, the man she’d known before her mother died, the man who was a loving father and sound businessman. She’d have days and days in New York to get over it, but now was a time for healing between them. She wanted to leave on a good note.

  She glanced across the field to where Brad was setting up his booth. Luckily, they’d had extra room for him. “If you two have it covered, I need to check on something.”

  Katie gave her a nod. “Go. Your dad and I will handle the kids.”

  “Thanks. I won’t be long.”

  Drea walked through the crowds of people having a great time. When she arrived at Brad’s booth, she said hello.

  “Hi, yourself, pretty lady. This festival is really something.”

  “It is. Thanks. And thanks for donating your time and books. There are a lot of families here, and I’m sure many parents are in need of advice about their toddlers.”

  “Uh, Drea? May I have a word with you?”

  “Of course,” she said, curious about what Brad wanted to discuss.

  He took her hand and walked her to the back of the booth. “I know you’re leaving tomorrow, and I’ll be back in New York in a month. I was wondering if you...and me. Well, if I can call you sometime.”

  Drea paused, trying to hide her indecision, and not doing a very good job, judging by the wary expression on Brad’s face.

  “We’ve been through a lot together, Drea. I know there’s painful history between us, but I care very much about you. I never stopped.”

  If he had anything but friendship in mind, she’d have to come clean. She didn’t want to use Brad, to run to him just because things got rough and lonely when she got back home. And she didn’t want to hurt him again.

  “I know you do. And I care very much about you,” she said, as sincerely as she knew how. “But the truth is, I’m in love with someone.”

  Brad let a beat go by. “It’s Mason, isn’t it?”

  She gave him a long look and nodded. “Is it that obvious?”

  Brad smiled. “Ever since you walked over h
ere, Mason’s had his eyes on you. He’s like a hawk, that guy. And I think he’d like to kill me where I stand for talking to you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Please.”

  They laughed, but when she turned around she found Mason’s deep, smoky eyes on her, and her heart skittered to a halt. He was leaning against a tree, his hat tipped low, cowboy-style, his jeans and black boots dusty. He’d been helping out with the ponies making sure the riders were safely on their mounts.

  It wasn’t fair that he had the ability to turn her life upside down like this. Their eyes connected for a moment and it was as if his heat traveled across the twenty feet of space between them. He was all she saw through the crowd and her insides immediately warmed up.

  She dropped her head and sighed. “It’s impossible.” Then she brushed a chaste kiss on Brad’s cheek. “I’d better go. Good luck today. I’ll be sure to talk to you later.”

  Drea walked away, getting as far from Mason as possible, heading toward the Boone kitchen, where the caterers were prepping for tonight’s dinner and dance.

  * * *

  Hours later, the sun set in a brilliant orange blaze. All the festival goers who’d filled up on fun, cupcakes, rides and games, were gone. On another part of the grounds, a stage was ready for The Band Blue. Fifty round tables with elegant white tablecloths and short pillar candles surrounded the parquet dance floor.

  People were arriving for the dinner and concert. Women were dressed in classic Western wear, jean skirts and leather boots or elegant gowns or somewhere in between. Drea, being the co-master of ceremonies had put her best foot forward, treating herself to a form-fitting gold gown. Shimmering sequins covered the crisscross back straps. Her hair was held away from her face with two rhinestone clips, allowing it to flow softly down her back.

  Mason walked up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you ready for this?”

  She glanced at him, felt his familiar mind-numbing touch, and for a moment her breath stuck in her throat. He wore his suit well, a dark three-piece with a gold brocade vest. In another lifetime she would’ve grabbed him by his bolo tie and dragged him behind the stage to have her way with him.