Cowgirl for Keeps

by Lacy Williams

  Getting used to the open spaces.

  When he turned to reach for the dry T-shirt he'd hung over the fence, he spotted Anna, standing several yards away, staring at him.

  Her eyes were locked on his bare chest, and suddenly self-conscious, he grabbed the shirt and pulled it over his head.

  She cleared her throat, but still didn't speak. Her eyes remained on his now-covered chest.

  Which sent a thrill of pride right through him.

  "Sorry. I'm running a few minutes late," he said.

  As if his words had snapped her attention, she averted her eyes. Brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Blushed.

  She was attracted to him.

  He'd hoped. But until now he hadn't been sure.

  And the last thing he wanted to do was trample her heart again.

  But he couldn't wait for their night out.

  "You ready?"

  She kind of hummed and shrugged.

  He dug in his pocket for his keys.

  Mikey and Gina were hopping around his truck like two jumping beans, and the drive to the Weatherford fairgrounds was full of their excited chatter.

  Even Anna had lowered her guard and talked about the freelance marketing she did and some of her humorous clients.

  This. Being here. Like they were a family.

  This was what he'd been missing his whole life.

  His heart was full.

  Anna glanced at him, their gazes connecting. And she smiled a warm, open smile.

  It gave him a high better than anything he'd ever experienced.

  And made him brave enough to clasp her hand once they hit the fairgrounds and the noise and lights of the carnival surrounded them.

  And she didn't pull away.

  * * *

  Anna had no idea what she was doing.

  Holding hands with Kelly like they were teenagers.

  Letting him buy her cotton candy—which the kids immediately pilfered.

  Mikey and Gina missed nothing. When they noticed her holding hands with Kelly, their faces lit up.

  They were so bubbly and chatty that she had to wonder how she'd been holding them back by clinging to her quiet grief over Ted's passing.

  It was time to move forward with their lives.

  And for the first time, she could admit that maybe Kelly was a part of that.

  The kids begged to go on rides, and when she protested going on the whirly tilting ride, even Kelly got in on the action, cajoling until she finally gave in.

  On the ride, with Mikey at his side and Gina at hers, Anna found herself pressed against Kelly's muscular side.

  And when he stretched his arm around her shoulders, sparks went off.

  His rich laugh weaved warmth around her, and when he and Mikey swung the carriage in a crazy loop to Gina's delighted shrieks, she couldn't help laughing too.

  He begged off when the kids demanded a ride on the Ferris Wheel. And of course she teased him about his fear of heights, but he refused to relent.

  She allowed Mikey and Gina to ride together and stood just outside the barrier for the ride, watching. This time when Kelly clasped her hand, his fingers slid between hers in an intimate grasp.

  She craned her neck up as Mikey and Gina's cart rose and rose, aware that Kelly was looking down at her.

  "What are we doing?" she whispered.

  She wasn't even sure he could hear her over the noise of voices and music from the carnival games and shouting vendors, but he answered, voice low too, as if the intimacy of their conversation demanded it.

  "We're holding hands."

  She swallowed hard. "Is that all?"

  Mikey leaned out over the edge of the carriage, waving wildly. The perfect opportunity to break the contact with Kelly, but instead she lifted her opposite hand and returned the wave.

  He squeezed her hand lightly. "It's a lot more than that. For me." His voice was sandpaper rough, and when their eyes met, he didn't hide the vulnerability in the depths of his gaze.

  Her stomach swooped as if they were the ones on the ride.

  "Is... that okay?" he asked.

  Mikey and Gina shrieked as their carriage passed by, and she was relieved for the distraction of waving at them.

  "Kelly, I..."

  I'm scared.

  He squeezed her hand again, gently. "You don't have to decide right now." He took a deep breath. "Being with you and the kids... well, they're amazing, and so are you."

  Heat flared in her cheeks, and joy thrilled through her. Even so, she couldn't seem to catch her breath.

  "I thought I might stay in Redbud Trails. Longer than for just your kitchen reno. I've got lots of folks asking me to work for them, and I'd like to see where this thing between us goes."

  Face-to-face, looking up into his eyes, the bottom of her stomach dropped out.

  Before she could answer, Mikey and Gina ran up, shouting over each other.

  * * *

  Anna hadn't responded to his declaration that he wanted a relationship. Not really.

  Their time together was almost up. The kids had been a constant presence since they'd gotten off the Ferris Wheel and walked through the house of mirrors and then burned through fifty bucks playing games to try and win a stuffed animal for Gina. And he couldn't complain about the kids' presence, because he loved every second of their time together.

  Mikey was funny and never could seem to finish his sentences fast enough. Gina was a doll, and her sense of wonder made him see things in a whole new way, things he normally took for granted.

  Being around the three of them made Kelly feel... whole.

  The punch of emotion was almost too much to bear, too painful in its fullness.

  He loved them.

  And he was in love with Anna. Still.

  It had taken maybe a day for all his old feelings to rekindle. Seeing her take care of the kids—often sacrificing her own needs for theirs. Watching her entire being light up when she was with the horses.

  Hearing her laugh. Receiving her smile.

  But he was intensely aware that she hadn't said she wanted him to stay.

  They turned onto the rutted dirt drive that wound through the front pasture of her property.

  Mikey and Gina had dropped off to sleep, and the silence between him and Anna was too thick.

  He brought the truck to a slow stop in the middle of the pasture and turned it off.

  His headlights illuminated the twin tracks in front of them. The moon wasn't out, and stars were the only other light. The truck clicked as the engine cooled. Cicadas serenaded them.

  "What are you doing?" Anna whispered.

  He angled his body, leaning back against his door so he could see her. Blue light from the dash lit her face, but her eyes remained shadowed.

  "Once we hit the house, you'll have your hands full getting those two into bed. Maybe we could talk for a little bit. Plus, it's nice out."

  His palms were sweating.

  And when Anna met his gaze steadily, his heart thundered in his ears.

  "That's probably a good idea."

  I love you. The words were on the back of his tongue. He wanted to say them so badly.

  But there was a part of him that hesitated. Knew she might not be ready to hear it.

  "You came to Redbud Trails to tell me something. Will you tell it to me now?"

  Stunned into momentary silence, he tried to force air into his lungs.

  She wanted his confession, now?

  He'd settled into working on her kitchen and stealing whatever moments he could with her and her kids. He'd pushed the real reason he'd come here to the back of his mind.

  Maybe there was a part of him that wished it never had to happen.

  Was she bringing it up now to put distance between them? Because she was scared of her feelings for him?

  Or—dare he hope—because she wanted to move forward with him?

  "One of the steps of the recovery program I worked was to share my testimony with the
group. If it's okay, I'll start with that."

  He swallowed hard, not sure he was ready for this.

  Would Anna look at him with disgust and turn away, as his father had?

  Whatever happened, this moment would forever change their relationship.

  He stared out the windshield into the dark pasture because it was easier than looking in her eyes.

  "Your kids are really lucky," he started. "When I was growing up, I didn't have..." He gestured to the two sleeping kids in the back seat. "This."

  And he'd wanted it so badly. Needed it.

  "My parents were distant and sometimes, my dad lost his temper."

  He stretched his arm along the back of her seat and stared out the windshield. After a moment, her hand settled on his, startling him.

  She clasped his hand loosely, offering him comfort.

  * * *

  Anna watched Kelly's expression change, but the tight stretch of his lips wasn't his real smile, not the open and warm expression he gave her so often.

  "It wasn't completely awful," he said. "Just..."

  She heard what he didn't say. There were things from his childhood that hurt him.

  "During my teen years, I got introduced to the party scene, and I started to feel like I belonged with them. When I got drunk, I could forget that my parents didn't seem to care about me. At least for a little while."

  "How old were you?" she whispered.

  He shrugged, his eyes far off, caught in the past. "I don't know. Fifteen. Sixteen?"

  So young.

  "By the time I got to college, it was more habit than anything. Sometimes I didn't come up for air for entire weekends. I was drinking every night."

  He sounded disgusted with himself. "I told myself I could control it."

  He breathed deeply, and she had to force an exhale, realizing she was holding her breath.

  "Then I met you."

  His eyes flicked quickly to her face and away. Her gut tightened, settling like a rock in her lower belly.

  "I knew you were special from the first time I saw you."

  He words hung between them, almost tangible.

  She'd felt it too.

  "I couldn't believe it when you actually talked to me—gave me the time of day. And then you agreed to go out with me."

  She remembered—too well, probably.

  "I was so nervous on our date," he admitted. "I thought one or two beers would take the edge off."

  "But then you kept going back for more," she said softly.

  She saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

  "I could see myself ruining our date, but I couldn't stop it. It was like a car wreck, but in slow motion. I..."

  He shook his head.

  "You were right to shut me down," he went on. "You deserved someone who had their life together, like Ted."

  He glanced at her, maybe unsure that he should've brought up her late husband. There was more. She could sense he wasn't done.

  "Even after you started dating him, after I knew I'd blown my chance, I told myself I could quit anytime. Denial. Then you were getting married and... I went on a binge."

  He blinked, and she saw the emotion moistening his eyes. "I ruined our friendship, made a scene at your wedding—"

  She didn't tell him about the fight—couldn't. It was over, long over now.

  "And I'm sorry. That's what I came to Redbud Trails to say. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I want it."

  The tone of desperation in his voice showed just how much.

  "You have it," she whispered. It was easier than she'd expected.

  His face crumpled, and he bowed his head. He breathed deeply, his shoulders shaking.

  She didn't let go of his hand.

  After long moments, he raised his opposite hand and scraped the heel of his hand over his eyes.

  "Thank you." He finally said, and his voice was hoarse. "That means... a lot."

  She smiled tremulously. She had to know. "Will you tell me about your recovery?"

  He nodded. "I kept spiraling. I quit a couple of times, but it didn't last. And every time, the guilt would hit me hard. And it took more and more to find the oblivion I craved. My drinking started affecting my work. I was hungover half the time. Or drinking earlier and earlier in the day. Or... just drinking through."

  She shivered, imagining him doing what he was doing now with less-than-perfect concentration. Those saws and other tools were dangerous. Not to mention moving heavy items or climbing ladders... Anything could have happened to him.

  He smiled a small, rueful smile. "I know. It's a miracle I didn't get hurt."

  "God must've been watching out for you."

  His gaze lingered on hers, and he swallowed hard again. "I'd like to think so. No one else was. I'd cut off my parents by the time I was out of college. Cut contact with friends who might've tried to help me."

  It seemed... lonely. She couldn't imagine coming back from Ted's death without her friends surrounding her.

  He went on. "But the lowest point was the car accident. Of course I was DUI."

  She squeezed his hand, suddenly afraid to hear what he was going to say.

  "Thankfully, no one was hurt. It was a fender bender in broad daylight. But the cop really read me the riot act. I don't know if he'd seen some bad DUIs or had a family member involved in one or something, but he was passionate about it. I spent the night in jail. Sick as a dog, hungover, scared. It wasn't my first offense. I was driving with a suspended license. The judge gave me two choices. Jail time or find a place to dry out. I chose to dry out."

  She was so glad it hadn't been worse.

  "My mentor in the center told me it wasn't going to stick unless I joined a long-term recovery program, and he was the one who hooked me up with a local church and the program there. I owe him everything."

  She had to shake her head at that. "You owe him a lot, but you made the choice to change your life, and I know it wasn't easy."

  "It's still hard sometimes. Coming here was hard. Facing you. Knowing you probably had plenty of disgust left for me." He took a deep breath. "When I tried to make amends with my dad, he threw me out of the house."

  Oh, Kelly.

  * * *

  Kelly felt as if a weight had been lifted.

  Anna wasn't running away. She hadn't asked him to leave.

  She was still holding his hand, and her eyes were shining up at him.

  He needed her closer. "Do you mind—could I—?"

  He reached for her and was gratified when she scooted closer and came into his arms. He couldn't resist bending his head. He kissed her.

  If holding Anna was like coming home, he didn't have words to express what kissing her was like.

  Heaven, maybe.

  When he pulled away, he was glad to see she was as out of breath as he was.

  He pressed his chin against her temple, not ready to let go yet.

  But eventually, she said, "I should get the kids in bed. Will you text me when you get back to the motel? So I know you're okay."

  His chest swelled. She wanted to check up on him. "Sure."

  He shifted to face forward again, turned on the truck and kicked it into gear with his left hand. No way he was letting go of her. He eased the truck into motion. He didn't hit the gas, just let it ride in slow motion.

  "What are you doing?" she whispered.

  "Trying to make the moment last." He'd take every second with her he could get.

  As he'd meant her to, she smiled. He felt the change in her expression where her cheek was pressed into his shoulder.

  But even with the slowest driving he'd ever done, they pulled up to her house before he was ready.

  Maybe he'd never be ready to leave her again.

  "Who—?"

  She perked up, straightening in her seat and he followed her gaze to where his high beams illuminated someone sitting hunched over on the front porch steps.

  Tim.

  "Gimme a minute," he
said before opening his door and getting out of the truck. He left his door open, the dome light on.

  What was the younger man doing here? Glancing around, Kelly didn't see another vehicle.

  And then he got close enough to smell him.

  The stench of alcohol was strong even from feet away.

  Without even a hello for his friend, he returned to the truck to tell Anna to wait a few minutes before she got the kids out.

  But she hadn't waited inside after all. She must've followed him out his. In the pale starlight, he could see from her expression she'd realized Tim's condition.

  9

  Anna's phone vibrated from her nightstand, the screen lighting up her dark bedroom.

  She squinted against the brightness, peering at the screen.

  12:30 am.

  She hadn't been asleep.

  When she didn't open the phone, the text message flashed again.

  * * *

  Kelly: Sorry it's so late. I got back to the motel ok. Can't wait to see you in am.

  * * *

  Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision.

  The screen went dark due to her inactivity.

  She used the back of her hand to brush away the tears.

  She needed to just rip off the bandaid. Being with Kelly tonight had been... perfect. Too perfect, maybe.

  Seeing Tim, receiving Kelly's apologies as he'd helped load his inebriated friend into the cab of his truck, it had brought back too many memories.

  Too many fears.

  What if she did open herself up? Continue on in this relationship with Kelly?

  And what if he fell off the wagon? Went back to his old habits?

  She had to think about her kids. Had to protect them.

  But it wasn't her kids she was thinking about now.

  What if she fell in love with Kelly, and he left her? Either through choosing his old lifestyle again or by dying, like Ted had.

  She'd barely survived losing Ted. Some days she still felt like half of herself was missing.

  She didn't think she could risk loving someone again.

  And that's what made her open her phone.

  * * *

  Anna: I think we made a mistake tonight. I'm not ready for a relationship again.