Second Chances

by Denise Belinda McDonald

  “Jacob Bowman, you sit back up and tell me what the hell is wrong with you.”

  He bit the inside of his lip to keep from smiling. He loved her gumption. Once he had his face under control, he feigned a yawn, cocked his head to the side, and looked at her. “Look, Zan, it’s been fun, really it has, but honestly, you’re not worth the trouble.”

  Her face blanched. A few tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Dale was spouting off about you again. I lost my temper and decked him.” He laced his fingers behind his head and went in for the kill. He had to make her hate him, had to make her never want to see him or Wyoming again. “I can’t run around knocking out every guy you tease.”

  “WHAT?” Her voice, shrill and incredulous, nearly popped his eardrum. “How can you say that? You know it’s not true.”

  “All I know is what I see. I never once saw Dale be anything but congenial to you. It’s your word against his that anything happened. Frankly, I am tired of your little dramas.”

  Her mouth fell open. She didn’t attempt to say anything, to defend her self.

  “Dale and I might not get along, but no woman is worth fighting over. Which should be obvious to even you, since I’m the one sitting in a jail cell now—not the one who teased the man into baiting me?” He motioned to her with his elbow.

  “Bastard.” She swiped the tears on her cheeks.

  He was, for breaking her heart—and his.

  “Yeah, well… Why don’t you go home to your doctor, Zan?”

  “I don’t want Charles.”

  “Right. Whatever. Quit playing here in Wyoming. You have a life back in Texas. It’s about time you grew up and went home.” His chest ached and his stomach rolled. He couldn’t believe he managed to stay so calm when he wanted to drop to his knees and confess his true feelings, how much he loved her, but he couldn’t. To ensure her safety from Dale, even if that meant a life with the boring doctor, he needed to make her leave and go home now.

  “You are an asshole,” she said in slow, precise words.

  He shrugged, ready for her to leave so he could get on with feeling sorry for himself.

  One final tear slipped down his cheek when he saw her turn to go. Every moment of the last four months flashed before his eyes. Zan’s laugh, the way her nose crinkled when she concentrated, every little nuance in her manner. The vice around his heart tightened while he willed it to numb. He wanted to never forget the best woman he had ever met—would ever meet.

  “Oh, and hey.”

  She paused by the door at the sound of his voice, but didn’t turn back. “What?”

  “That last time we screwed…” He saw her cringe at his harsh choice of words, “We neglected to use protection. I hope you’re clean, I’d hate to catch anything—” he knew his words cut into her. He had to make sure she got out of his life and as far away as possible, “—or be tied to you by some kid.”

  She turned then, a bitter smile spread on her lips. “You’ll be most relieved to know I am perfectly clean and there is no chance in hell that I am pregnant with a bastard’s baby.”

  “Great. Have a nice life, sweetie.”

  His ended the second the door closed behind her.

  ———

  “Get up, you asshole.”

  Holy hell, it was not his day. Another Walters stood at his jail cell door.

  Jacob had barely managed to choke down the pitiful lunch. Actually, it wasn’t too bad. Clara’s beef stew and corn bread from the diner, but he didn’t have the stomach for it.

  Now he certainly wasn’t in the mood to play kicking bag for Zan’s cheering squad. His head pounded which, despite the pain, helped to forget the horrid way he trashed Zan. Last thing he wanted was to justify himself to her family. Damn why’d he have to get the guy a job.

  “What do you want, Quint?” Jacob asked as he kept his eyes averted.

  “I said get up.”

  Jacob let his gaze slide to Quint Walters. Red splotches stained his cheeks and his chest heaved with labored breathing. His hands hung at his sides, not in closed fists as Jacob might have suspected, but flexed, his fingers rigid. When his eyes returned to the man’s, pure hatred surged.

  “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

  “Yeah, well… I have plenty to say to you.”

  “Go away.”

  “Dammit, Jacob. How could you treat her like that?”

  The words filled with anguish, and what Jacob might have thought of as regret, cut him deeper than anything else could have. He dropped his feet to the floor and sat up. It had been nearly two hours since Zan left him, two of the worst hours of his life. He had actually expected Quint to show up sooner. Instead of being disappointed in the younger man’s tardiness, he silently applauded his loyalty to his family.

  Something that Jacob coveted but knew he would never have.

  Quint must have taken Jacob’s movement as an invitation to continue. His hands none too steady, he gripped the bars. “It took me nearly an hour to get her to calm down enough to figure out what she was talking about. She was hysterical.

  “Then it took me nearly as long to convince her to pack her bags and move back home. She’s leaving first thing in the morning.”

  Good. Jacob wanted to sigh in relief.

  “You destroyed her, Jacob. I’ve never seen her like this.”

  Pity filled the man’s eyes and that burned Jacob. Couldn’t he see that he was doing the right thing? Couldn’t Quint tell Jacob was doing what was right even if right was killing him?

  “Man, she did love you.”

  Did? Past tense? Why Jacob was surprised it hurt so bad, he didn’t know. He’d set out to make damn sure she’d leave, to go back to Texas and make a good life for herself. Hearing the finality in Quint’s voice broke what little spirit he had left.

  “Yeah. Well. It was fun while it lasted. But time to move on.”

  “Well, she’s moving on. I hope you’re satisfied, you cocky son of a bitch.”

  “I’m not anything. I don’t give a damn one way or another.”

  He wished God would strike him down for lying, put him out of his misery; for as long as he lived he knew he would never open his heart up to another woman.

  “Is that all you wanted to tell me? That y’all are leaving?” Jacob wanted the man to leave him in peace—if that were possible.

  “She’s not some woman you can use up and push away…” Quint paused for a minute and shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to see my godforsaken face every day and remember what you did to her.”

  Noble and loyal. What was he? A goddamned Boy Scout.

  “Well, boy howdy, good on you.” Jacob ran his hand through his hair. His shoulders slumped with resignation. The gods must be punishing him for some wrong he committed. Other than breaking Zan’s heart along with his own, he hadn’t done a damn thing wrong to anyone. Dale had merely gotten what he’d had coming to him for some time. “Get the hell out of here, Quint.”

  “Can’t. I’m here to take you back to the ranch. Sheriff Reese didn’t want you doing something stupid like driving over to see Dale, so I volunteered to fetch you.” He laid on his thick Texas good-ole-boy tone. “So get your stuff and get your ass in gear, Bowman. You’re checkin’ out.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Zan removed the cold compress from her gritty, swollen eyes. A headache sat heavy on the base of her skull and her nose hadn’t stopped running. All on par for the devastating send-off Jacob had blessed her with. Damn him.

  Clyde snuggled in her lap. The dog wanted to comfort her, unlike the man who had given her the pup.

  What in the hell got into him? When had he turned into a callous S.O.B.? He had insinuated—no he’d flat out said—that he had only been playing with her, that she’d been playing. He said she had teased Dale into coming after her.

  Zan couldn’t wrap her mind around the accusation.

  She’d been crying so hard when she left the jail she
had opted to leave her car and hoof it on foot, afraid to get behind the wheel. That early in the morning, the dawn not even fully bright, she ran across no one. Thank God. She didn’t know what she would have said if someone had stopped her and asked her what was wrong.

  Jacob broke my heart. No, too simplistic. Jacob destroyed me. While technically incorrect—she would eventually get over the man she had envisioned spending the rest her life with—that was the closest she could label it.

  Then there was Charles. He had been waiting on her front porch when she arrived at home. If Quint hadn’t shown up at the same time and convinced the man to leave… As he left, he all but threatened he wouldn’t be gone for long. Why did the man she wanted not give a damn and the man she didn’t want couldn’t stay away?

  God, what a mess.

  All day, she lay on the couch in the living room. She had called in to work and asked Doc for the day off. Being a small town, the woman had heard most of the details of the fight between Jacob and Dale the night before. By Doc’s morning coffee, thanks to the big, nosey ears of one of the deputies, she’d also heard the details of how Jacob had unceremoniously dumped Zan.

  If Zan’s heart had been in one piece, or even two, she might have been embarrassed that her life was fodder for the citizens of Paintbrush, but she was too numb to have an emotion as simple as mortification.

  Instead, Zan watched the day go by outside her window, her phone ringing nonstop.

  Quint had called hours before and left a message telling her he’d taken Jacob back to the ranch. Not that she cared. Not that she ever wanted to see the rat bastard again. It wasn’t like she was going to throw on her coat and drive over there to tell the S.O.B. he could take his dumping and shove it where the sun don’t shine.

  That was what she kept telling herself while she went into the bathroom and scrubbed her face and when she changed into the new sweater her mother had given her for Christmas—the one everyone said brought out her rosy cheeks. She was licked when she grabbed her parka, got into her car and headed for the highway leading out of town.

  She almost lost the nerve when she crossed under the steel Saddle Creek Ranch sign at the front gate just after nightfall. She wanted to see Jacob, give him a piece of her mind. Then ask him why. Hell, she was tempted to beg him for another chance. Her pride all but out the window.

  “No. No. I will just give him a piece of my mind and that will be that.”

  With her hands still clamped on the steering wheel, she stared through the windshield, her legs too weak to move as her mind warred over what she would say. Screwing up her nerve, she got out of the car and walked the fourteen steps to the front door.

  Zan raised her fist to knock just as the door opened.

  “I saw you drive up,” he said when she raised her eyebrows in question. “What do you want?”

  Zan’s mouth fell open. Behind Jacob, Trisha what’s-her-name sat on the sofa. The bitch was fully dressed, but Zan knew from experience that clothing had never hindered Jacob before. Her head reeled and her heart plummeted in her chest.

  “You wasted no time, did you?” Zan had to think fast, to save face. She wasn’t about to beg a man for a second chance, especially a man who moved on so fast. “I came to return your necklace.” She unlatched the clasp then held out the chain and pendant to Jacob.

  He made no move to accept it so she pushed past him into the house. She avoided eye contact with Trisha as she laid the gift on the coffee table. “You can’t have Clyde back though. I’ll pay you for him. How much do I owe you?”

  “I don’t want your damn money, Zan. The dog and the necklace were gifts.”

  “You bought her a dog? You never bought me a dog,” Trisha whined.

  Zan and Jacob both turned to look at her perched on the back of the sofa. The tart stuck her bottom lip out in a full pout.

  “What?” the woman asked with bubble-headed innocence.

  “How much?” Zan repeated and turned her gaze back to Jacob.

  Jacob crossed his arms over his chest and refused to meet her gaze.

  “Fine, whatever.” Zan headed for the door. “Have a nice life, Jacob Bowman.” With her first step out of the house, she pulled her coat tighter around her to ward off the cold winter wind. She stopped halfway out.

  “No. That’s not fine.” She turned around and found Jacob still standing in the doorway. “I’m not just going to leave without saying anything. You told me you loved me. And I believed you. You can’t just take that back, Jacob.”

  “Just go home, Zan. Just go back to Texas, to your life with the doctor.”

  What did Charles have to do with this? Was Jacob jealous? Is that why he turned on her?

  “I don’t have a life back in Texas. I don’t have a life with Charles, I never truly did. My life is here in Wyoming. Up until this morning I had hoped with you.” Zan buttoned her coat and stuffed her chilled hands into her pocket.

  Something in the back of her mind nagged her and she couldn’t let go. “Why do you want me to leave so bad?”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to shut the door, but Zan wedged her booted foot into the door and stopped him.

  Jacob had been so cruel. So different from the man she knew. His grandfather, even Hank, would’ve smacked him upside the head if they ever heard him speak to any woman that way. Much less the woman he supposedly professed his love to.

  She glanced past him to Trisha.

  Even a woman he didn’t love, he’d never been cruel to her. Took most of the heat for what had gone wrong between them even when she left him. Jacob Bowman would never treat anyone that way. Unless he had a damn good reason.

  Like a lightening bolt, it hit her. Everything he’d said, everything he’d inferred, it was to make her leave.

  “You still love me.” She nodded. “I don’t understand why you’re trying to make me leave.”

  “You’re nuts, woman.”

  “No. Just a little slow.” She laughed. “If you just wanted to break up you would. You could have said we were done and end of story. You deliberately said stuff that you knew would hurt me.” A blush crawled across his cheeks. “For some reason you want me out of Paintbrush. Is it Dale?”

  Jacob started to open his mouth to deny it, but she blurted out, “I love you, Jacob.” Because at that moment she knew it was the truth. He’d done all of that to try to protect her. “I’m not giving up on us just because you’re doing what you think is right.”

  “You might as well give up and leave. There is no ‘us’, Zan.” He walked over to Trisha’s side and laid his hand on her shoulder. “It’s over.”

  For a moment her nerve faltered. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he wanted her gone because he wanted to get back with his first love. Because despite what he’d said about not truly loving Trisha, she knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t have hurt so bad, wouldn’t still be angered and bitter if there hadn’t been deep and true feelings for the woman.

  “I, uh…” Zan didn’t know what to say. She had hoped Jacob would come to his senses and tell her how much he loved her. But he didn’t. He went to Trisha. In that moment, by his ex’s side… Zan couldn’t compete with the woman. She turned to leave, defeated.

  When she reached the bottom of the porch stairs, a series of loud popping noises startled her. It was too dark to see all the way to the corral, but she could hear the penned horses’ whinnied cries.

  “Is that gunfire?” she asked, and turned when another round of popping sounded. Jacob disappeared from view. She could hear his boots slapping the hardwood floor as he ran through the small house. Then he filled the door, flashlight, hat and gloves in hand before he leapt down and bypassed the steps all together.

  Trisha stood in his place, but made no attempt to move, or speak for that matter. Staring at her nails, biting the corner of her lip she looked bored if nothing else.

  “What’s…?” Zan asked Jacob’s departing back.

  “Stay there,” Jacob y
elled over his shoulder as he stuffed the flashlight into his belt.

  “Like hell I will.” Zan ran after him.

  She made it to the corral a few steps behind him. Both climbed up onto the fence. With no moon to brighten the night, someone turned on all the lights in the area. An eerie, orange glow lit up the night.

  Zan noticed the scent of snow in the air. Mixed with the manure, it was a familiar, almost homey, aroma to Zan. She hadn’t expected to be so acclimated to the area to sense snowfall, but Wyoming was in her blood now. With a renewed determination, she planned to stay. Jacob or not.

  Activity at the corral raced around her, breaking into her thoughts. Several of the ranch hands were trying to calm the horses loose in the corral for their evening walk. She spotted Quint with Jacob’s horse, Stella. Jacob dropped inside the corral and made a beeline for the appaloosa with Zan hot on his heels.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jacob asked.

  “Someone’s shooting from out in the north pasture. I sent Hank and Eric to check it out.”

  “Shooting? Hunters shouldn’t be on this property. Especially not this time of night.”

  Before anyone could say anything else, Eric and Hank rode up. “There are eight or ten. All wearing masks. All carrying guns. Right behind us.” Eric was breathless and white as a sheet.

  Hank didn’t look much better. “We didn’t have any way to stop ’em. We headed back to warn you. They’re comin’ this way.”

  “Hank, you get in the house and phone the sheriff.” Jacob took charge. “Quint, release all the other horses that are left in the barn. They’ll kill themselves locked up in there. We can round them up in the morning.”

  Jacob turned and looked at Zan. “Get the hell out of here.”

  He left her standing there and went to open the gate to release the horses into the pasture. Another round of shots filled the air. They were so close Zan ducked and covered her head with her arms. When she looked up, she could see the men on horseback nearing the edge of the circle of light.