Brokedown Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

“Okay, ladies, let’s get out of Connor’s hair,” Eli said, showing an uncharacteristic amount of sensitivity. Eli usually thought nothing of running roughshod over him. Mainly because Eli always seemed to think he knew how other people should live their lives, and Connor was no exception to that.

  Eli lifted Sadie from his lap and stood, raising his arms behind his head and stretching. “I need to sleep,” he said. “With the election so close now, I’m not doing very much of that.”

  “But you’re going to win,” Sadie said, her tone confident.

  “You are,” Kate agreed.

  Both women looked at Connor. “You are,” he said, and he wasn’t just saying that to stroke his brother’s ego. He was the best choice for the county; there was no question about that.

  Eli was a professional at sacrifice. He had sacrificed for Kate when he’d been a teenager. Had sacrificed his safety when he’d agreed to wear the uniform. And Connor knew, and never took for granted, the fact that Eli had sacrificed by being the one to come and tell him about Jessie’s accident. Connor knew that no one in the department would have ever asked it of him. But Connor also knew that Eli would have never given the responsibility to anyone else.

  For those reasons, and for so many more, Connor knew his brother was the man Logan County needed as its sheriff.

  “Well, I appreciate the votes of confidence. Just make sure they’re also physical votes on election day.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m going to go stand by the ballot drop boxes with my shirt off and my chest painted,” Connor said. “A big painting of your face.”

  “I will arrest you. And I’m not joking,” Eli said, lacing his fingers through Sadie’s and heading toward the door.

  Kate stood up and followed after them, offering him a goodbye wave.

  “Goodbye, Connor,” Sadie said as they headed out, shutting the door behind them.

  And he was left alone again, by himself and in his big empty house.

  But that was about to change.

  Disquiet lodged itself in his gut. He’d had quite enough change over the past few years, and this was more of it.

  But he wouldn’t be alone. He was really fucking tired of being alone.

  But he was alone now so he took another beer out of the ice bucket. A couple more drinks would help drown out the silence. Would help him fall asleep.

  And there was no one here to tell him no.

  * * *

  “I THINK I SOLVED my rental problem,” Liss said, sliding a paper clip onto a stack of papers and looking up at Jeanette, her coworker, who sat at the desk opposite her.

  “You found someone to rent to you?” Jeanette asked, licking an envelope and smoothing it closed.

  “Not exactly. But Connor has a lot of empty rooms, and he’s agreed to let me stay with him until I can find a place.”

  Jeanette arched a dark brow and looked to the left to make sure no one else was lingering nearby. Maria and Sandra were the only others in the office today, but the older women didn’t necessarily enjoy listening to her and Jeanette gossip. “Is this fine-ass Connor? The one with the bulging forearms and very delicious tattoo? Your friend? The one who’s been by to pick you up from work a few times?”

  Jeanette had been in town for only a couple of years, so she didn’t know everyone’s life or life story in as much detail as most of the locals did.

  Liss cleared her throat. “Yes, that Connor.”

  “Get it, girl.”

  Liss’s face burned, and she knew full well that she was blushing. “There will be no getting of it. He’s just helping me out. And he really is just a friend.”

  Jeanette frowned. “Sorry. I did not imagine for one second that you were really only just friends with a man who looked like that. I just thought you were slow on the rebound after that jerk left.” Jeanette never remembered Marshall’s name, or at least, she pretended she didn’t remember his name. Because Jeanette was a goddess like that.

  “It’s not like that with us. I was really good friends with his wife. Him, too. But Jessie and I were friends for...years and...well, that would be weird. And you know. Too much baggage.”

  It was a refrain she had repeated to herself often.

  “Yeah, that makes sense. That’s a lot of history.”

  “A book full of it. That’s the problem with small towns,” Liss said, sighing heavily. “There’s history everywhere. That is perhaps why I’ve been single for so long.” Except she knew it wasn’t just that.

  “Thankfully, I came with a man in tow.” Jeanette and her husband, Tom, had been married for five years, and Tom had come to Copper Ridge to work as a fisherman.

  “It was a better plan than mine. Which was to grow up here, never leave and ensure every man in my age group knew me far too well to see me as anything other than a friend. I’m thinking Copper Ridge could almost single-handedly cause a boom in the mail-order-husband market. Maybe I could get myself a nice biddable Russian groom. One who would chop wood and open jars for me.”

  “Let me know how that works out. I might sign up.” Jeanette winked and pushed a stack of papers beneath a hole punch, pressing it down firmly. “Not that I need another husband. It would just be nice to have someone around the house to do hard labor when Tom is out on the boat.”

  “I could really start something here. A nice little secondary career.” Liss stuck the papers she was holding into a file. “Of course, I think living with Connor is going to be my secondary career.”

  “If it’s rent-free...”

  “It is.”

  “And comes with a very handsome roommate,” Jeanette said, smiling.

  “Yes. A cranky, high-maintenance, handsome roommate.”

  “That’s what they call a fixer-upper.”

  “I think when I put out my ad for my mail-order husband, I’m going to request a man who’s turnkey.”

  Jeanette laughed. “Good luck with that. They all come with baggage. Even the good ones.” She pushed a couple buttons on her computer then paused. “Actually, especially the good ones. It’s the ones who have been through a lot and come out the other side that are really worth it in the end.”

  Liss let Jeanette’s words hang there for a moment, willing them to just roll off, hoping they wouldn’t sink in. Because she didn’t need to harbor any more false hope where Connor was concerned.

  Finally, she responded. “Great. I’ll let you know when he comes out the other side. Although, it still won’t be like that.”

  “Whatever you say, Liss. Whatever you say.”

  Liss’s cell phone vibrated against the surface of her desk. Her landlord’s number flashed over the screen and she frowned, answering the phone as quickly as possible. “Sorry,” she said to Jeanette, grabbing the phone and picking it up, answering quickly. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Liss?” Marjorie asked, before plowing into the rest of her sentence. “Our buyer is very motivated to move. In fact, they really need a place to stay, so if we can’t clear out the house fast enough for them, they might look somewhere else. They’re able to pay cash, so they’re very mobile, and this is moving very quickly. I’m sorry to inconvenience you, but if you are able to move out as quickly as possible, I would really appreciate it. I know what your rights are legally, but I thought I would just talk to you personally.”

  Of course, because this was Copper Ridge, and your landlord was never just your landlord; they became your friend, too. So when they overasked of you, it was impossible to say no. That was the economy of a small town. Everyone knew they could borrow help if need be, and interest was paid in small favors and homemade pies.

  But then, her landlord had not become a good enough friend to refuse to ask something like this of Liss. Of course, she also knew Marjorie would never push or throw her out on the street or anything.

&n
bsp; “It just so happens that I lined up a place to stay last night. And I can move in whenever.” She thought of Connor and his house, and her stomach did something weird. Kind of a twist and turn at the same time.

  Marjorie breathed out an audible sigh of relief right into Liss’s ear. “If you could start moving out this weekend, it would be really helpful. I just don’t want the sale to fall through. Norm and I are much better off in Arizona, and the sooner we can cut ties with everything here, the better. It isn’t that I don’t love the town, but my joints don’t love the damp.”

  “I understand.” Even though she didn’t, really.

  “Thank you, Liss. You’ve been a great tenant.” Most especially since Marshall had moved out, but Liss didn’t say it. “Most especially since that boyfriend of yours moved out.” Oh, so Marjorie was going to go ahead and say it. “I hate to lose you, but I’m just too old to be managing properties and going back and forth between places. And if we have to hire a company...”

  Liss let her mind wander. She’d heard Marjorie’s hand-wringing on the subject already. She was agreeing to move out; she didn’t know why she needed to subject herself to her landlord’s woes. Which was potentially a little bit unsympathetic, but she was the one who was being massively inconvenienced, so maybe not.

  “Okay, sweetie, I’ve got to go,” Marjorie said.

  “Okay, talk to you later.” Liss hung up and set her phone on the table. She looked up at Jeanette. “Is it okay if I make one more personal call?”

  Jeanette waved a hand. “I’m not the warden. Do your business.”

  Liss picked her phone up and dialed Connor’s cell phone number. He still had a flip phone, and half the time it didn’t ring, but it was still worth a try, because she knew he was out in the field right now, rather than at home.

  Much to her very pleasant surprise, Connor answered on the second ring. “Liss?”

  “Hi, Connor. I just wanted to say...I guess I’m moving in this weekend.”

  “I guess I’ll be at your house early Saturday with a truck.” He sounded a little bit dazed, and she couldn’t blame him. She felt a little bit dazed.

  “I’ll be waiting. With groceries. As per the agreement.”

  “All right, then, Saturday.”

  “Saturday,” she repeated, before hanging the phone up.

  It wasn’t that big of a deal. It wasn’t a deal at all.

  Maybe if she repeated that to herself a few more times she would start to believe it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT WAS MOVING DAY. Connor had to be at Liss’s house by nine. Which meant he’d been out on his horse by six. The morning air had a mean bite, but he didn’t mind. The needle pokes of wind against his skin, combined with the pounding of his horse’s hooves on the soft ground, went a long way in wiping his mind clean.

  Connor rode through the empty field, clumps of mud and grass flying up behind him, hitting the back of his shirt. The clearing was flanked by a grove of trees on the left, and a steep, evergreen-covered pitch of rock on the right. The sky above was filled with gray, misty clouds that seemed to be rolling down toward earth, swallowing the tops of the mountains that surrounded the ranch.

  This was morning here in Copper Ridge. All shades of deep green, blue and gray. Until the sun came out and burned the cloud cover away, flooding the ranch with golden light, drawing the scent of dirt, moss, pine out, then washing it all with an ocean breeze. For Connor this was as close to spiritual as it got. Being in this place, this town, where vast stretches of water met vast open land. Where all the essential sources of life were ready and available. This place was in his blood, in his soul.

  This land had been here before him, before his family had fenced it, cultivating it, but never taming it. To the best of his ability he would see it was here long after he was gone. In his mind, progress could never mean man-made development on land like this. Progress would be when people realized that everything they needed was already here.

  He ignored the hollow ache in his stomach that was trying to remind him even here, even now, he felt a little bit empty.

  That even now, with the golden sunlight poured over the evergreen trees, he felt cold down to his soul. That no matter how bright the light shone, it never seemed to touch him.

  He ignored that, because there was nothing he could do with it.

  He pulled back on the reins, bringing his horse to a stop, taking a moment to survey his surroundings. It was still here. It was early enough in the morning that even the wind was still. It was the kind of vast silence that would swallow up the sound of a man’s voice, consuming it as if he had never spoken.

  One man wasn’t powerful enough to disturb beauty like this. It made him feel small, and consequently it made some of his problems feel a lot smaller.

  He dismounted from his horse, dropping the reins and leaving her standing there. He walked forward, toward the middle of the clearing, and looked up. For the first time he saw a small patch of blue sky, a ray of sun bursting through.

  He closed his eyes, keeping his face angled upward, letting the warmth seep through his skin, praying it would reach his bones.

  It didn’t. But it hit him just then that this was the first morning he had woken up without a hangover in quite a while. He hadn’t had a drink last night. He’d been too focused on what it would mean to bring Liss into the house.

  He opened his eyes and looked at the sun, and his head didn’t hurt.

  All things considered, he figured it would be a pretty good moving day.

  * * *

  THEY’D ATTACKED THE PROJECT of moving Liss much like a barn raising. All hands on deck, finished by the end of the day. Ultimately, nothing was left undone except for a few empty boxes still in need of disposal, and paper plates with the remnants of pizza, along with a few empty beer bottles, stationed throughout Connor’s house. Of course, there hadn’t been much to move into the house itself.

  A bedroom’s worth of furniture, and all her clothes, books and a few kitchen gadgets she hadn’t been willing to part with.

  Everything else had gone into a vacant outbuilding on the Garrett property. Which was going to save her a lot in storage fees. Between letting her borrow space on the ranch, space in Connor’s house and the use of their muscles—including Jack’s—Liss was starting to feel as if she was taking an awful lot.

  And that feeling, that feeling of being in debt to somebody else, always made her feel uncomfortable. She felt as though it forced her to keep a running tally on what she had contributed versus what someone else had contributed. Because she never wanted to be on the wrong side of that balance.

  She took a deep breath and tried to banish the tightness in her chest. The moving crew, comprised of Eli, Sadie, Kate, Jeanette and Jack, had all gone home, leaving her there in her new space, with her new roommate.

  She took a deep breath and walked over to the kitchen sink, looking out at the wall of trees that stood between the house and the mountains. It didn’t feel weird to be here. Of course, she didn’t know why she had thought it might. Well, she supposed it was because she was living here now, instead of visiting. But then, she was much more than a casual visitor. Always had been. Even more so in recent years. Because she was bringing him food, having dinner with him, trying to prevent him from drinking himself into a stupor every night, which she had managed with mixed success.

  It didn’t feel weird at all to be standing here. No, it felt comfortable. This would be comfortable. Yes, comfortable. Like a broken-in pair of boots. Like a late-July afternoon on the hiking trails that wound through the mountains and beneath a canopy of trees.

  That kind of comfy.

  She heard footsteps behind her, and she turned.

  Connor shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. “You need anything?” he
asked.

  “No. Still full from the pizza.”

  “I know there’s no bathroom right off your bedroom. But I figure you can have that one that’s nearby in the hall. I only use the one off my bedroom.”

  She’d kept all of her toiletries in her travel case. She just hadn’t felt comfortable unloading makeup and hair-care products all over a common area. There was moving in, and then there was invading. “Only if you’re sure. I don’t mind keeping that stuff in my room.”

  “No way. That’s not practical at all. Just unload it all in there. As far as I’m concerned this is your place, too. I mean, it’s mainly my place, but we’re sharing. Seventy-thirty.”

  She laughed. “Generous.”

  “Yeah, I think so. Come on, though. This place is huge. I basically have a trail worn between my bedroom and the kitchen, and I hardly go anywhere else. I spend most of my day outside working. Of course, that means I barely clean any room in the house, so I’m sorry about that.”

  “Well, I kept my house clean. I have no problem transferring that to here. Honestly, you have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to wipe down your cabinets.”

  A lopsided smile curved his mouth. “That kind of sounds dirty.”

  “Wiping down your cabinets?” she asked, barely suppressing a grin. “I don’t even want to know what that could be.”

  “Do you know what I want?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What?”

  “Pie.”

  “That had better not be euphemistic pie.” The line of conversation was making her feel strange. A little bit light-headed.

  “No, this is literal pie.” He walked to the fridge and opened the door, pulling out a white bakery box and setting it on the island in the center of the kitchen. “Remember Alison? She made those pies for the Fourth of July thing. You know, then my barn burned down and Eli ran her husband off the property.”

  “Oh, yes, I vaguely remember that night,” she said drily.

  “Anyway, she’s selling pies independently, not just baking for the diner. Because she left her husband right after the thing.”