Cowgirl for Keeps

by Lacy Williams

  * * *

  Her thumb hovered over the SEND button for a long moment. Could she lose him again, after coming so close.

  Just one date?

  So like last time.

  She could still see Tim on her front step. Could smell him. If Kelly went that route...

  She pushed SEND.

  Seconds later, the phone rang in her palm. Kelly.

  She should have known the stubborn man wouldn't let things go so easily.

  She meant to hit the button to reject the call but must have missed through the blur of tears in her eyes, because the line opened up with a click.

  She didn't say anything.

  "Anna?" His voice was small through the connection, and she lifted the phone to her ear but remained silent.

  "Honey, what's wrong?"

  Everything.

  She swallowed and tried to find the words to end things between them.

  He exhaled heavily and when he spoke, his voice was rough. "Anna, if I rushed you with anything that happened tonight—that kiss—"

  He broke off.

  She said nothing.

  He said, "I'm sorry if I rushed things."

  He hadn't. She'd been right there with him. Maybe even falling in love.

  But fear kept her silent.

  "We can go as slow as you need to. Just keep working on our friendship and see what it grows into. I was thinking I could find a place—a real place—here in Redbud Trails. Sure seems like there's enough demand for a contractor or handyman—"

  "No!"

  The word burst from her.

  If he stayed, she would see him everywhere. In a small town like Redbud Trails, there would be no avoiding him. And she didn't know if she could be that strong.

  There was a long, expectant pause between them.

  He cleared his throat. "Tell me how to make things work between us, and I'll make it happen. Anything."

  She closed her eyes against the sting of further tears. Bowed her head. Forced the words out.

  "I had the life I wanted before Ted died. What we had was... comfortable. Safe. But now everything is different. With you... I can't." Her voice broke on the last word, and she covered her nose and mouth with the hand not holding her phone, trying to mask the sound of her tears.

  "Don't cry, honey." That was fine for him to say, but she would swear his voice was wet with tears too. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

  But if life had taught her anything, it was that rarely did things turn out okay.

  * * *

  Kelly lugged his battery-powered drill case to the bed of his truck and secured it in the tool compartment. He started winding the hose from his air compressor.

  Sweat rolled down his back and dampened the hair at his nape. The late afternoon sun beat down, baking the earth all around, so he tried to stay in the triangle of shade made by the porch roof and his pickup.

  He'd asked Maddox and Justin Michaels to round up some guys and finish the touch-ups for Anna's kitchen while they'd been at the carnival in Weatherford. He hadn't asked her permission for the guys to be there while the house was empty, but he trusted them.

  And they'd done a great job, leaving him only a few final touches today, like installing the stainless steel stove and dishwater he'd bought her.

  If he'd hoped for a chance to talk to her in person, change her mind after their late-night phone call, it'd dissipated like ice melting in the hot summer sun when he'd seen her this morning. She'd been pale, her eyes red-rimmed and shadowed.

  Obviously the decision she'd made hadn't been easy on her.

  There was a part of him that wanted to rail at her. Demand she give him a chance. Beg her some more, even after he'd embarrassed himself on the phone last night.

  But the bigger part of him understood.

  He would never be able to shake the shadows of his past. He'd made those choices, been a slave to his addiction for too long.

  And if she couldn't live with that, maybe it was better to find out now.

  He could never measure up to Ted. And he knew it.

  He tossed the coil of tubing into the bed of the truck and went back for one more look at the newly minted kitchen.

  He'd wanted her to be surprised to find it done today—her birthday. And his other surprise was yet to come. Soon.

  She'd avoided the area all day.

  He'd been so down that he'd called his sponsor at lunchtime, had a good heart-to-heart with his mentor, a man who'd been there and could understand Kelly's broken heart. He'd also checked up on Tim, who'd been sober and serious. Kelly encouraged him to visit the recovery program that had helped him work out his issues, but he didn't know if the younger man would really do it. And it had to be his choice.

  Now he ran his fingers along the gleaming countertop and moved to take down the plastic he'd hung in the doorway that first day.

  He backed toward the outer door as he folded it.

  His time here was up.

  He'd gotten what he came for. Anna's forgiveness, even though he couldn't have her.

  And he'd given her this gift.

  It would have to be enough.

  The doorbell rang as his boots hit the back porch, and he gently closed the door.

  Being shut outside didn't stop him from hearing Mikey's pounding footsteps or Gina's shout as they vied for answering the front door. His heart thumped painfully. He would miss those two almost as much as he would miss Anna.

  He stowed the plastic in the compartment and then reached for the end of the long orange power cord snaking its way across the back porch. It was the last thing to clean up.

  Multiple voices came from inside, and with the kitchen window on this same side of the house, he saw silhouettes as bodies moved through the kitchen he'd just vacated.

  Her party had arrived.

  He knew she'd wanted a party to celebrate her birthday with her new and improved kitchen, but he also knew she hadn't thought it would be finished in time, not after the first contractor had stolen her deposit.

  And he'd wanted to give it to her.

  He'd spent all week coordinating things with her friends Lila and Melody via text message, and now the night was here.

  And he was stuck on the outside.

  He stowed the heavy coil of power cord and locked the compartment down, then moved to the tailgate to shut it.

  Somewhere along the way, he glanced up at the window again, and there she was, looking out at him.

  He gripped the closed tailgate with both hands, fighting against the desire to rush inside and declare everything he felt for her.

  He loved her.

  If he thought there was any chance it would be enough, he would've done it.

  But with his father's voice ringing in his ears—get out of my house!—and Anna's tearful I can't from last night still echoing, he forced one hand to release the tailgate and give a casual wave before rounding the pickup and getting in.

  He was done here.

  10

  He'd really gone.

  Anna had allowed the distraction of the surprise party—where each guess had arrived with food or drinks—and admiring her new kitchen last night, but when dawn broke the next morning, she found herself wide awake. And doubting herself.

  Had she made a mistake?

  Tell me what to do. Anything.

  What kind of man renovated a kitchen—all the way to purchasing new appliances—without expecting payment? Or planned a surprise birthday party for a woman he hadn't seen in almost a decade?

  Someone amazing.

  She wasn't on the verge of falling for him. She'd fallen.

  But she was still afraid to risk her heart.

  She tiptoed outside, running one hand along the gleaming countertop as she passed through the kitchen. She cared for the horses, then turned them out in the corral.

  When she got back to the house, she found Mikey was the first one up, which was unusual. Maybe he was just excited about visiting the Oklahom
a City water park, as she'd promised him and Gina.

  They'd been planning it since school had let out for the summer.

  But when Gina still didn't wake a half hour later, Anna went to check on her and found her feverish and complaining of a sore throat.

  The trip was off.

  After she'd plied Gina with children's Tylenol and juice, she found Mikey sulking in the new kitchen.

  "I'm sorry we can't go today," she said. "I promise another time, okay?"

  He shrugged and looked at the back door.

  "What's wrong?"

  "When's Mr. Kelly coming back?"

  "He's not." She wanted to reach out and put her arm around him, but the almost-nine-year-old wore a defiant tilt to his chin, and his eyes sparked angrily.

  "He promised he'd build a tree house with me."

  She reached out and ruffled his hair. The small contact would have to do. "I'm sorry, honey."

  He shook her off. "It's not fair! Kelly promised!"

  He slammed out the back door, and she didn't even have the heart to reprimand him.

  Through the window, she watched him run out to the barn.

  * * *

  He was supposed to be leaving Redbud Trails in the dust, but Kelly made his way down the familiar dirt road toward Anna's. Maybe for the last time. He'd made a promise, after all.

  He slowed his truck as he neared the spot where Anna's fence had been knocked down before.

  Something was wrong.

  Heart suddenly thudding and adrenaline surging, he let his eyes rove in an arc. Threw the truck into park.

  The fence was down again. A large cow with dangerous-looking horns was standing on the opposite side of the road from the break in the fence. It's head was lowered, and it swung those horns side-to-side.

  And then Kelly saw Mikey, standing a few feet outside the break in the fence.

  His hair was mussed, his shirt ripped across the middle, as if he'd already been in a tussle.

  The cow bellowed and galvanized Kelly into action. He threw open the door and yelled for Mikey. His shout hadn't been necessary. The boy was already headed toward him.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw a blur of motion as the cow charged them.

  Kelly grabbed Mikey around the middle as the boy neared, then whirled back toward the truck.

  Not fast enough.

  He tossed Mikey into the cab but couldn't get in before the cow's shoulder rammed into the door, slamming it closed behind Mikey. Probably left a dent. Had the boy gotten out of the way, inside the truck, in time?

  Sharp pain knifed through the back of Kelly's right shoulder, and he spun wildly against the side of the truck.

  He could feel the animal's hot breath on his back and knew that those dangerous horns were right there.

  He got one of his steel-toed boots on the back tire and launched himself up and over the truck bed.

  He tripped on the two-by-fours piled in the back and went sprawling, but didn't roll out thanks to the lip on the other side.

  Afraid that the cow would somehow be able to climb in on top of him, he scrambled for purchase and lifted one arm to wrap around his head.

  Then he heard a shout and a strange buzzing sound.

  He waited for the cow to butt into the truck again. For the feel of its hot breath.

  When nothing happened, he gingerly raised his head.

  Anna was there, on horseback, wielding an electrified wand as she put herself between the cow and the truck.

  "Get on!" she yelled again, and the cow ambled for the fence.

  When it had crossed the fence line—totally unconcerned as it wandered back on to Anna's property—she kicked one leg over the horse's back and whirled for the door.

  Kelly hopped the side of the truck bed as he heard her tremulous, "Mikey?"

  He moved up behind Anna as the boy launched into her arms, sending her staggering back. Kelly steadied her with a hand to her lower back but quickly moved away as soon as she'd found her feet.

  "Are you hurt?" Her desperate fear was audible in her voice, and Kelly saw her turn Mikey's head in her hands, run her hands down his arms, looking for injury.

  "Mom, I'm all right. I'm okay." Mikey's voice was strong and clear, and relief sent Kelly staggering. He clutched the side of the truck with one hand.

  "What happened?" she demanded, still looking Mikey over.

  Mikey sent a sheepish glance toward Kelly.

  "I was riding Samson bareback, and he threw me and ran off. I was walking home and didn't see the bull in the pasture. When I did, I tried to duck through the fence, but he found that hole and started chasing me. Then Mr. Kelly drove up and saved me."

  He'd been so very lucky to have arrived in time, to have realized what was going on in time to shove Mikey into the cab of the truck.

  Anna turned to him, and the tears sparkling on her cheeks were a punch in the gut.

  "You're bleeding." She looked a bit stunned as the words escaped her mouth.

  He looked down and sure enough, the shoulder of his T-shirt was ripped, and blood ran down the back of his arm.

  "Let me see." She was shaking as she grasped his elbow in one hand and used the other to peel back his sleeve.

  He craned his neck to see the damage.

  Blood seeped from a deep scratch in the meaty part of the top of his shoulder.

  Anna gasped slightly.

  "You hurt, Mr. Kelly?" Mikey stepped closer, and Kelly put his uninjured hand to the boy's shoulder, keeping him in front.

  "It's not bad. Dumb thing ruined my favorite T-shirt, though."

  Anna's eyes were a little wild as she turned toward the cab. "You cleaned your truck out," she accused him.

  She moved around him and went to the horse, touching the saddle and then making a strangled sound of annoyance.

  "I don't have anything to staunch the blood." Her voice was shaking, her movements still erratic.

  And Kelly couldn't take it any longer.

  When she passed by him again, moving back toward the truck, he took both her elbows in his hands.

  "Anna. Anna." He squeezed her slightly until her eyes focused on his face. "We're okay. Mikey's okay. And so am I."

  She was still shaking.

  "Take a breath."

  She sucked in a deep inhale and shocked him when she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

  He buried his face in her hair, letting the last vestiges of fear and adrenaline drain from him. Movement came from his side, and then Mikey burrowed into his side. Kelly let his arm come around the boy's shoulder.

  Even if Anna couldn't love him, Mikey was safe.

  For once, he'd been in the right place. Done the right thing.

  Anna eased away from him, and he let her go, emptiness rattling his chest as she went.

  She brushed at the tears on her face. "Let's go get Gina from the house—she was sleeping when I ran out after Mikey—and I'll drive you to the doctor's office. You might need stitches."

  "It's not that bad," he said quietly. "If you've got a butterfly bandage, I'll fix it up myself."

  Still a little shaky, she nodded. "All right. Can you drive?"

  "Yeah."

  "Then come up to the house." She picked up the horse's reins, motioning for Mikey to follow her.

  She settled into the saddle and pulled Mikey up behind her.

  He waited until she'd cleared the fence and loped off back toward the house before he put the truck in gear.

  * * *

  Anna couldn't stop shaking, even after she'd run up to Gina's room to check on the still-sleeping toddler and settled Mikey in the living room with a book.

  The boy wanted to recount Kelly's rescue over and over, but the images were already playing in a loop in her mind. Kelly shoving Mikey into the cab of his truck, then being spun around by the bull.

  If he hadn't been able to get up, if he hadn't had the strength to vault into the truck, the bull could have easily trampled him or
caught him more fully with its horns.

  She dialed an old friend even as she ducked into the hall bathroom for the first aid kit.

  "I need to sell the bull," she said after they'd exchanged greetings.

  She found the red plastic box beneath the sink and stood up, bringing it with her.

  "It's about time," came the response.

  She couldn't deny it. She'd put it off for too long, and look what had almost happened. "Can you pick him today?"

  Through the window, she saw Kelly's pickup parked near the porch.

  She ended the call and opened the back door. Kelly hesitated at the bottom of the porch steps, hands shoved in his pockets. The flow of blood had slowed from his shoulder, but the sleeve of his T-shirt was darkened with an ugly red stain.

  He caught sight of her, and his eyes cut away. There was none of the ease, the warmth in his expression that there had been just two days ago, before she'd reconstructed her defenses against him.

  "I was thinking I could just drive back to town and the motel. I'm sure I can find some supplies at the pharmacy and then I don't have to—you don't have to—"

  He was trying to let her off the hook.

  She opened the door further. "Get in here."

  He brushed his good hand through his hair. Exhaled through his nose.

  And then followed her inside.

  "Take off your shirt," she said.

  He complied, looking around and then tossing it out the back door. Conscientious. Not wanting to get her new kitchen dirty, though she wouldn't have minded. Not when he'd saved her boy.

  "Sit down."

  She kicked a chair out from the nook table and brought the first aid kit over as he settled in the seat.

  She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I should have sold that bull last year, when he started showing violent tendencies. And I should've made sure the fence was fixed. Asked for help."

  He looked over his shoulder at her, and their eyes met and held.

  She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

  "Thank you," she whispered. "For being here. For saving Mikey."

  He nodded. Swallowed. "I'm just glad I was there."

  She grabbed a washcloth from a drawer and doused it in warm water from the faucet. Back at the table, she sponged away the blood caking Kelly's arm.