A Cowboy to Remember

by Barbara Ankrum

  Jake, got into his truck and shut the door. It took him a moment to calm down and turn the key, but Orca hummed to life and Jake pulled off down the field, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

  “You go, Jake,” Olivia said, eyeing him. “You really gonna call the sheriff?”

  “Nah. They’ll be long gone by the time he could get here. I just wanted to scare ‘em.”

  She smiled. “Oh, I definitely think you did.”

  “Kind of a mood-breaker, huh?”

  She brushed the bicep on his arm, coiled like a spring. “It’s okay. Blowing up their little party was the right thing to do. There’ll be other nights.”

  “Promise?”

  She just smiled at him as they bounced down the dirt road toward home.

  “Hashtag Olivia?” her student, Lucy Jacobs, called from atop her horse, Jinx, the next afternoon.

  They’d been working on her dressage drills in preparation for the fair demonstration on Friday for the past hour, and now the seventeen-year-old who might possibly be Emma Watson’s doppelganger, was grinning at her, waiting for an answer to some question she had obviously missed.

  “I’m sorry, Lucy, I was... thinking about... something else.” In particular, about Jake and the way he’d kissed her last night and what he’d done for that truck full of kids.

  Lucy tilted her head with an obviously look and dismounted. Olivia ducked under the corral rail. Her boots sank into the soft earth as she walked toward the middle of the ring where Lucy was fiddling with Jinx’s left rear hoof.

  “He’s about to lose a shoe,” Lucy said, straightening.

  Olivia inspected it herself then glanced at her watch. “I don’t think we’ll get anyone over here this afternoon. I’d rather not pull it myself. It can wait ‘til morning if we put a shoe boot on it. I’ll call a farrier I know, Ry Barrios, to come and re-shoe him tomorrow morning. Let’s put him up for the night. You’re doing great work, Lucy. You’re more than ready for the demonstration on Friday.”

  “I hope so. I’m a little nervous. Did you get nauseous when you rode?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Lucy put a hand on her stomach as she walked beside Olivia toward the stable, leading Jinx. The comforting sound of the horse’s clip-clop against the hard packed dirt, the smell of horse sweat and leather centered Olivia.

  “You’ll be great. And I’ll be there with you. Nothing to worry about. It’s just about introducing dressage to the locals. English tack and precision dressage is such a mystery to most of the cowboys in this area. And there’ll be no judges, so it’s a win, win.”

  “So,” Lucy asked, “is everything okay with you? I mean... back there in the ring, you were totally on pause.”

  Olivia blushed. As it had been doing all morning, Jake’s smile swirled into her mind, driving sane thoughts sideways and curling need at her core. “Oh, I don’t really remember what I was—”

  “Was it helicopter guy?”

  Olivia’s face went tellingly blank.

  “I heard about your helicopter date,” Lucy said.

  Of course she had. Olivia’s mom told Lucy’s mom when she’d cancelled the session the other day. “It... it wasn’t a date. He’s just an old friend,” she lied, but her insides spun, remembering the slow, hot slide of his mouth on her skin.

  She could have sworn Lucy was avoiding her eyes as she tied Jinx to an iron ring on the gallery wall and began undoing his cinch strap. “Even though I hope that’s not true—because being picked up in a helicopter by a hot, yumworthy pilot is way romantic—and if it is true that you’re just friends, awww! because turning thirty doesn’t mean you’re over and the closer I get to twenty, the more I’m starting to think thirty isn’t all that old”—she took a breath—“but either way, I feel I should warn you that it might have gotten out.”

  “What might have gotten out?”

  “The date.”

  “What do you mean... out?”

  “You can’t keep a helicopter date a secret, Olivia. Not in a place as small as Marietta! It’s not like that happens every day. But,” she said, lifting the saddle off and holding it in front of her like some sort of shield, “even though you might be tempted to, please don’t blame my mom, who just casually mentioned it to my Aunt Katrina at the Java Café two days ago over mocha lattes, unfortunately within earshot of Ms. Bingley and now pretty much everyone’s heard about it.”

  Olivia refrained from gasping in horror. “About my date?”

  Lucy nodded miserably.

  Live in a small town, kiss your secrets goodbye. She remembered some rumor Ms. Bingley had stoked years ago from mere smoke to a roaring fire about Olivia’s AP English teacher, Miss Stuart, and a female librarian from Livingston, who had done their damnedest to keep their private lives private. Carol Bingley took real pleasure in exposing them and attempting to get Ms. Stuart fired. She had succeeded, of course, and the campaign had only encouraged her malicious rumor-mongering. She rarely allowed hard facts to interfere with her suppositions. “And what exactly is the always delightful Ms. Bingley saying about us?”

  Lucy spun away from Olivia and started toward the tack room. “Oh, that’s not important. The important thing is—”

  “What is she saying, Lucy? Exactly.”

  Lucy turned, looking sheepish. “That he’s a war hero you used to date and that... the helicopter was obviously a grand gesture, because he’s come back”—she stopped and started again—“he’s come back to rescue you from your, um—her words—‘headline-making divorce’ and ‘humiliating return to Marietta’.”

  And with that, Lucy promptly disappeared into the tack room.

  Oh, God. A laugh bubbled up from some terrified place inside Olivia and her pulse began to thrum in her ears. To rescue me....

  All this time, since coming home, she’d somehow managed to keep a low profile here at Lane’s End, away from the prying eyes of the likes of Carol Bingley and her ilk. She’d kept such a low profile, in fact, that she’d barely cast a shadow. Staying under the radar had its advantages and disadvantages. The disadvantage being she wasn’t there to stick up for herself and the witch could say anything she wanted. God only knew what would happen once word spread she hadn’t returned from her ‘date’ until early the next morning.

  Jeanne Marie came to mind. “No matter what people say... stay strong,” she’d said. Oh, God, even she’d heard the rumors.

  She wasn’t unaware there were those in Marietta who took pleasure in the fact that she had failed when she’d left here twelve years ago—so full of promise and potential at eighteen. But she’d returned with her tail between her legs, her Olympic dreams a wash, her marriage to Kyle a disaster, and who’d ever heard of a riding teacher who didn’t ride?

  There were always people ready to celebrate others’ losses. But staying undercover here at Lane’s End only made her look as if she had something to hide. Or be ashamed of.

  “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have told you,” Lucy said, standing the tack room doorway. “It’s all my fault, really.”

  “Don’t be silly, Lucy. You had nothing to do with this.”

  “No, I told my mom I thought you were lonely. That’s why she was all excited when she heard about helicopter guy. It was ‘cause of me.”

  Olivia reached out and hugged her. “Look, no one’s to blame... except the gossip queen, but that’s her problem, not ours. Besides, I’m touched you cared.”

  Lucy grinned gave her arm a little punch. “You are a little touched.”

  Olivia laughed. “But that’s why you love me, right? Now go on, then. Put that shoe boot on Jinx and make sure he’s nice and cozy in his stall tonight. I’ll give the farrier a call and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She headed back to the house, thinking, maybe it wasn’t as bad as Lucy made it out to be. Sure a few people might be talking about her, but if she just ignored them...

  Olivia felt her phone vibrate and glanced down to see two text messages—all c
aps—and three voice mails from both Kate and Eve, asking her to meet them at the Main Street Diner at 3:30. She guessed she already knew what that was about.

  Chapter Eight

  “This time she’s gone too far,” Kate said darkly when Olivia joined them at a table in the corner of the busy Main Street Diner. “This time, it’s personal.”

  “When isn’t it personal to somebody?” Olivia asked. “Just happened to drop on my head this time.” Like she’d been walking under a flock of seagulls.

  Kate was only younger than Olivia by a year and in some ways, since they’d become stepsisters when Jaycee and Reed had married, they were twins from a different mother. Kate had come with Jaycee when Olivia had been hospitalized after her accident and hadn’t left her side until she was out of the woods. It was just this tenacity and loyalty that gave auburn-haired Kate a fiery side that, once ignited, was hard to contain.

  Eve, who was younger at twenty six, sat with her hands tightly folded on the table. The blonde counterpoint to Kate’s red, Eve was the quiet one, the thoughtful one, the rock. She never took a step without thinking it through first or weighing the consequences. That being said, Eve looked ready to fight bear.

  “She’s an overbearing, ill-mannered, attention hog who needs to be muzzled.”

  Olivia sighed. “All that may be true, but she’s not exactly... wrong.”

  “What?” Kate and Eve said in unison.

  “Except for the part about Jake coming to rescue me. That’s... absolutely wrong, and I hate that she dragged him into it.”

  “She has no right to judge you,” Kate said. “What does she know about your life or what you’ve been through?”

  “That she never really knows anything about anyone’s life doesn’t ever seem to stop her,” Eve pointed out. “We’ll get Dad to file a complaint. We’ll sue her for... for....”

  “Exactly,” Olivia said. “You can’t sue someone who’s merely stirring the cauldron, but not blatantly lying.”

  Flo, the middle-aged waitress who’d worked here since Jake’s parents owned the place, brought them all waters and set them down.

  “Oh. My. Golly. If it isn’t Olivia Canaday,” she said with a big smile. She reached down and hugged her tight. “Why, darlin’, I haven’t seen you in here since... since... well, I can’t even remember when. Will you look at this? You, all grown up.”

  That’s questionable. “And you never change, Flo. You look great. It’s so good to see you again.”

  She waved a get-on-with-you! hand. “I guess I can stop buyin’ all those ten dollar wrinkle creams then.” She laughed. “I heard you got back some time ago and I’ve been waiting for you to come by. I saw Jake the other day. That boy...” A bittersweet expression came over her face.

  “Of course, he came by,” Olivia said. “You were practically part of the family growing up.”

  “Damned shame about his sweet parents. They were dear to me.” And right there, in the middle of lunch service, Flo’s eyes watered up.

  Olivia loved her for it.

  “Still not over it, I guess,” Flo continued, “and life does go on. But you didn’t come in here to hear me prattle on. What’ll you three pretty ladies have?”

  Olivia wasn’t hungry but she ordered a piece of their blue-ribbon, lemon meringue pie anyway—the house specialty, winner in its category every year at the Big Marietta Fair and the comfort food of her youth—and her stepsisters did the same in a show of solidarity.

  “We could TP Bingley’s yard tonight. Maybe egg her car,” Kate suggested, getting a scathingly diabolical look in her eye, despite the fact she spent her days in a class full of kindergarteners, held up as a glowing example of maturity.

  “No, no,” Eve said. “Too juvenile. How’s this? Flyers dropped all over town from Jake’s helicopter, with the Munchkin recipe for melting wicked witches and Bingley’s face cut and pasted over Elphaba’s?”

  “Brilliant and creative,” Olivia agreed, trying not to laugh. “But ill-advised if we hope to avoid jail time. There is that pesky littering statute.”

  “Good point,” Eve agreed and Kate nodded regretfully.

  They sighed and fell silent, sharing glances, shoving pie in their mouths.

  Olivia narrowed a look at them. “What?”

  “Nothing,” they both said at once.

  She knew them both better than that. “Go on, then. Ask.”

  “What about you and Jake?” they blurted out in unison.

  “Did he really come back for you and the promise?” Eve wondered.

  Olivia had shared that much with her that night on the ride from the fair to Grey’s.

  “Did he ask you actually to marry him?” Kate asked.

  “Whoa, whoa!” Olivia held up her hands. “No and no. He came back for a lot of reasons, but not for me specifically, though our promise did happen to intersect with his plans. Hence, the helicopter ride out to see his uncle, Deke. And don’t be silly. We are not getting married. He’s never brought it up and I already told him I’m never doing that again.”

  Kate’s already pale skin lost the rest of its color. “You... you what?”

  Eve dropped her fork. “Shut the front door.”

  Olivia winced at their reactions and ate another bite of pie. She dug her fingernails into her palm to push away the memory of Jake, inside her. Touching her. Everywhere. Hunger rose in her like an eddy, swirling and demanding attention. And the damned lemon meringue pie wouldn’t touch it.

  She had to stop it. It—meaning Jake—had been a problem all day. Either she needed to get him out of her head or get him back in bed to finish what he’d started in the truck bed.

  Wrong, wrong, wrong.

  They’d agreed to one time. That was all. It should never go further. Because then the blame would be hers.

  Kate read every bit of what had been happening between her and Jake on Olivia’s face. She sat back. “You slept with him.”

  She spoke so quietly Olivia almost didn’t hear her. But she glanced around to see who else, if anyone, was listening.

  “I did not.” Olivia shoved the last bite of her pie in her mouth, then chased the crust crumbs around her plate with her fork, avoiding eye contact with them.

  Kate and Eve exchanged knowing looks in the pregnant silence.

  Olivia caved. “Okay, so what if I did? It doesn’t change anything.”

  Eve took her hand and patted it. “Oh. It changes everything, Grasshopper.”

  She was dead right, of course, but Olivia had no idea what to do about her feelings for Jake. Because, like it or not, she was already falling in love with him. And that didn’t bode well for either of them.

  Gossip of the Bingley kind had a way of sneaking onto the edges of truth. And the truth was, the last thing she needed was a man to swoop into her life and rescue her from herself. And Jake Lassen, hero, soldier, rescuer of men, might be doing just that with poor, little Olivia Canaday who couldn’t seem to pull her act together.

  She could not let him save her. Because if anyone was going to fix what was broken about her, it had to be her.

  Back home, Olivia took a long, hot bath that did nothing to unkink the tense muscles in her shoulders or to clear her head. But dwelling on the gossip swirling around her seemed an exercise in futility, so she dressed in her jeans and a T-shirt and headed back down to the stable. On an August night, true sunset was still two hours away, but the sky was streaked with lavender and pink clouds with leaden underbellies and the mountains in the distance were black shadows against the horizon. The sky echoed her mood.

  God, it was pretty here, she thought, wondering, for the thousandth time exactly which greener pastures she’d been seeking when she’d left so many years ago. Sure, the winters were long and if you were looking for malls, this wasn’t your place. But she’d never been a mall kinda girl, and there was nothing like a crisp, fresh fall of snow on a winter’s day, or the sibilant buzz of summer insects on the slow moving Marietta River, to make her fe
el fully alive.

  Even with the small-mindedness of certain people here, there was an equal and opposite generosity to the residents of Marietta that would forgive her anything and welcome her back.

  But first, she needed to forgive herself. And that was the hardest part. Why was it so much easier to dwell on the bad things rather than the good? Like having her life back, or actually surviving that awful fall or... Jake.

  In the horsebarn, she walked down the center aisle until she reached Magic’s stall. The horse poked a velvety nose out to greet her. He was clean now, free of the muck of his past, and seemed like a different horse. She pulled a carrot from her pocket and gave it to him, then scratched the blaze running down his face. “No more Demon Sword names for you, Magic. Now you have a name to be proud of. What do you think of it?”

  He chewed his carrot and snorted.

  She studied him for a long time before coming to a decision. It wasn’t because of the gossip, exactly, that she wanted to prove everyone wrong about her needing saving, but it wasn’t not because of it either. The woman’s unkindness had only put into words what she, herself, had fought for the last few years—the idea that the only way to save herself was by disappearing.

  Like Deke.

  She clipped a lead rope to Magic’s halter, opened the door and led him out to the indoor ring. She gathered up a bridle and some tack. It was time to test the waters for them both.

  He took the bridle well, so she felt fairly confident he’d been a riding horse before he’d fallen into hell. That was a start.

  She worked slowly, rubbing him with the saddle blanket before attempting the saddle. But, again, he took it fairly well. Better than her, actually, since her heart was slamming against the wall of her chest at each progressive step.

  Now, he stood, twitchy and waiting. Glancing nervously at her as if to say, “This might not be a good idea.”

  Olivia felt sweat gather between her breasts and she took deep, slow breaths. You can do this. She felt nauseous, like Lucy had. She braced her hands on the pommel and cantle of the saddle, leaned her forehead there and closed her eyes.