Cowboy's Pride (Welcome to Covendale Book 1)

by Blaze, Morgan

  She managed not to roll her eyes. “Sydney.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Stephanie kept smiling as she pulled a pad of paper from her apron pocket. “Get you guys something?”

  She frowned and slid the menu back. “I guess I’ll have an order of fries. Luka, you sure you don’t want to eat?”

  Luka glanced at the waitress. “Got anything chocolate?”

  “Bottle of Hershey’s syrup. You want that on ice?”

  “Just put it in a Mudslide. All of it.”

  “One Mudslide, extra chocolate.” The waitress scribbled on the pad and turned to Tommy. “How about you?”

  He smiled—a little too wide, and not in the general direction of her face. “Another beer would be great,” he said. “Could you bring everything over to that pool table, Steph? The one that just opened up. I want to shoot a few rounds.”

  “Sure thing.” She wrote it down and left.

  Sydney told herself it was just leftover paranoia from Cam that had her reading into the familiar nickname Tommy used, and that smile of his.

  Tommy stood and held a hand out. This time his smile was just for her, and the little flash of jealousy evaporated. “How about a game, babe?” he said. “I’ll let you break.”

  A slight frown creased her brow as she took his hand. “I don’t play pool,” she said. She’d been pretty sure he knew that.

  “I do.” Luka pushed her chair back and grinned. “Bet you the next round of drinks I’ll crush you into dust.”

  He laughed. “You’re on, woman.”

  They threaded through the crowd to the recently abandoned pool table. It was near the back wall, where a ledge that was almost wide enough to be a bench ran the length of it. Sydney perched on the ledged and watched as Luka started picking out and rejecting cue sticks from the wall-mount rack, and Tommy fed quarters into the table to release the balls.

  “All these damned cues are crooked,” Luka said. She grabbed two and thrust one of them at Tommy. “I should go out and get mine from the car, but I’m too lazy.”

  Tommy stared at her. “You carry a cue stick around with you?”

  “Yep. Got a custom case and everything.”

  “Well, shit. I guess I’m buying the next round.”

  “Told you,” Luka grinned. “Hey, Syd. Did you ask Cam how the carriage is coming while you were at the ranch this morning? I’m dying to know if he’s really going to fix it.”

  The instant she mentioned Cam’s name, Tommy’s eyes narrowed. And his angry stare settled on Sydney. “You went out there again?” he said. “I told you not to talk to him.

  Sydney jumped instantly from slightly annoyed to pissed off. This time she spoke before she thought. “You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t talk to,” she said. “He was fixing my truck. I was going to have Kenny do it, but he decided he wouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I stuck up for Cam.” She returned the glare full force. “I told you, he’s doing us a favor. A little appreciation from you would be nice. He’s been nothing but helpful.”

  “Yeah. He’s a goddamned knight in shining armor.”

  “Tommy, I swear to God—”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, babe.” Tommy relaxed and let out a sigh. “I’m just worried about you, is all. The guy’s nuts—he chases people off his ranch with a shotgun.”

  Her mouth went dry. “He does?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It’s the truth. Brian and Jesse went out there on a church drive. His old man used to donate every year, so they thought he might want to keep it going. But Thatcher put a bullet in the ground, not three feet from them.”

  Sydney shivered. She knew Cam was rude and unwelcoming, but she couldn’t believe he’d actually shoot at somebody. He wasn’t a monster. “Are you sure?” she half-whispered.

  He nodded. “And he said if they came back, next time he wouldn’t miss.”

  “Come on,” she said. “There’s no way he’d follow through. It was an empty threat.”

  “Sydney, he shot at me too.” Tommy’s voice was tight and low. “The man is dangerous. He’s gone off the deep end, and he doesn’t care who he drags down with him.”

  “Right.” Maybe there was something to the idea of avoiding Cam, but she just couldn’t believe he was that bad. Not murderous. “Look, I’m going to go get a drink,” she said. “And by the way, I like mojitos. Not beer, not Tom Collins, not lime daiquiris.”

  It was a petty jab, and she felt kind of bad about it. But she had just enough no-you-didn’t left in her to throw it out there and walk away before he could respond.

  She made her way to the bar, returning the occasional greeting from people she knew. That got her thinking again about small-town life, and how different things were going to be soon. Here, she couldn’t go anywhere without running into someone she could stop and chat with for a few minutes. The grocery store, the gas station, the pizza shop—everyone frequented the same places, knew the same faces.

  In New York, it’d be just her and Tommy…and while he was at work, she’d be alone. She hadn’t really thought much about that.

  And she didn’t know if she could handle it.

  The bar was still crowded, and it took her a few minutes to be noticed. Finally, Jim came over with a smile, depositing a beer in front of someone on the way. “Hey, Sydney,” he said. “How are your folks?”

  She smiled. “Just fine. The lovebirds went to a movie tonight. How’s Gina?”

  “She’s great. Three-point-eight average so far.” Gina Wyatt, another member of the Pretty People, had gone out to California for college to major in theater. Everyone expected to see her in the movies soon—especially her proud father. “What are you drinking tonight?”

  “I’d like a lime mojito, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  He went to fix the drink, and Sydney turned around to lean on the bar. The crowd seemed a little quieter—strange, because it didn’t look any less packed. But the noise level was definitely dropping. After a minute, there was nothing but the music and hushed murmurs of conversation.

  Then came the unmistakable heavy tread of boots on the wooden floor.

  Sydney’s heart started pounding crazily. Somehow she knew what was happening, who it was, even as the steps drew closer and the murmurs became a buzz. The crowd that was gathered around the bar parted like the Red Sea.

  And Cam Thatcher stepped through the gap.

  Chapter 9

  No matter how angry or conflicted she felt, the sight of him still took her breath away.

  He was dressed all in black—black button-down shirt, black jeans, black boots. He carried a black cowboy hat in his hands. It was a surprising show of respect, considering he didn’t seem to have much of that for anyone. His stance was stiff and completely straight, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of relaxing enough to possibly come into contact with another person. And his eyes blazed like fire.

  “Sydney.” A bitter smile crossed his lips. “It figures.”

  Damn it, why did he keep saying that? She wanted to demand an explanation, but what came out of her mouth was, “What are you doing here?”

  “Selling bibles. Have you accepted Jesus as your lord and personal savior?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He grinned, and her heart performed a mad, scrambling flip. She’d forgotten how amazing he looked with a real smile. “I’m having a drink,” he said. “That’s what you do at a bar, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yes. But…”

  He came over to stand right next to her and placed his hat on the bar counter. The crowd had climbed back up to full volume, apparently done discussing the spectacle of the town hermit walking into the bar. “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “It’s none of my business. I keep telling you that, so I should practice what I preach.”

  She surprised herself by saying, “That’s all right.”

  “It is?”

  “Sure. You were just trying to help.” She
offered a smile she didn’t feel as Stephanie’s assets flashed through her mind. “It was probably a misunderstanding,” she said.

  His brow furrowed, and he looked like he’d say something more. But before he got it out, Jim came over with the mojito. He set it down and turned a cool stare on Cam. “Get you something?” he said, the friendliness gone from his voice.

  Cam’s jaw twitched. He dug in a pocket, produced a rumpled ten-dollar bill and laid it on the counter. “A draft and a shot of Beam,” he said. Then, as an afterthought, “Please.”

  When the bar owner turned away without a word, Cam bowed his head and let out a sharp breath. “Apparently, you also piss off the entire town at a bar,” he said in tight tones. “At least if you’re me.”

  Sydney’s throat clenched. People assumed that Cam acted the way he did because he’d rejected the town and everyone in it—but just now, it felt like things were the other way around.

  “Thatcher. Did you get tired of sleeping with your sheep?”

  She knew that cold voice belonged to Tommy, but she couldn’t believe it. Even when she looked up and saw him and Luka standing there. He sounded disgusted, mocking—almost threatening.

  Cam faced him with a sneer. “If I had any sheep, I’d prefer their company to yours.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere. So I guess you should leave.”

  In the yawning silence that followed, Sydney barely heard the clink of glass as Jim set the drinks on the bar. She was busy staring at Tommy like she’d never seen him before. Where did all this venom come from? She knew they hated each other, but this was beyond even hatred. This was a death wish.

  Cam was still standing less than an inch from her. So close, she felt it when he jerked to attention. “It’s a free country,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “So I guess I’m not going anywhere, either.”

  Tommy’s lip curled. “Get away from my girl, farm-boy.”

  The words shocked her motionless. A scream lodged in her throat and wouldn’t go further. Then Luka grabbed her hand with both of hers, trying to pull her away from the bar. “Come on, Syd,” she whispered hoarsely. “We’d better get out of the way.”

  “Stop!” Sydney yanked her hand free and glared at Tommy. “He’s just having a drink,” she said. “Let him be.”

  But Tommy wouldn’t. “I mean it, Thatcher. Step off.”

  Cam went still. Without looking away from Tommy, he reached back and grabbed the shot of whiskey. He tossed it down in one swallow, slammed the glass on the counter. Then he stepped forward. “Come outside and make me.”

  Some of Tommy’s bravado drained, but he held his ground. “Not a chance,” he said. “You’ll just shoot me.”

  “Backstabbing son of a bitch! I should shoot you.”

  The whole bar got quiet again with those ringing words. Tommy’s mouth opened and closed once. When he didn’t say anything more, Cam snarled and pushed past him—only to stop and look straight back at Sydney. “You have a nice life,” he said, his voice dripping with bitterness.

  He turned and kept going, and people practically dove out of his way as he stomped through the bar and into the night.

  Hot tears pricked Sydney’s eyes. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob, ignoring both Luka and Tommy’s calls as she pushed her way to the ladies’ room so she could fall apart in private.

  * * * *

  Cam pulled away from The Klinker as fast as the ancient farm truck would let him. Damn it, he knew he shouldn’t have gone in there. But he had unpleasant business in town, and he’d wanted a drink or two in him before he saw to it.

  How the hell did Sydney manage to be everywhere he went lately? Six years of nothing, and now he couldn’t avoid her if he tried. And he was definitely trying.

  Apparently he wasn’t going to convince her that Tommy was an evil rat bastard, either. She was deep in denial, making up excuses to herself. Determined to go through with this wedding and ruin her life—because she didn’t think there was a problem.

  Tommy had always been able to lie like a champ, though. It took Cam years to see through his bullshit.

  Right now, much as he wanted to, he couldn’t worry about Sydney. He’d spent most of the day researching and going over paperwork, looking for any way to keep the ranch—some overlooked asset he could sell, a job he could do, a favor he could call in. He came up with exactly jack shit.

  He’d also listed out all the businesses in town owned or sold by Boyd Lowell, and tested his theory by paying them a visit. Every single one had denied him service.

  The bastard worked fast.

  With all of his legal options exhausted, Cam had turned to a more dangerous solution: Eddie Verona, loan shark and ruthless hustler. He’d arranged to meet the man at the old rail yard across town to discuss what Eddie called a “business venture,” and what everyone else called a short trip to the hospital.

  Rather than a handshake, Eddie liked to seal his deals with a casual beating from his enforcer, Jonah Dawson. It was supposed to give them a taste of what to expect if they failed to make payments on time—weekly, at thirty percent interest. From what Cam had heard, every missed payment cost a broken bone. Eventually the price went up to a busted spine, and then a shallow grave.

  He expected to go home with ten grand and considerable pain. But it’d be worth it to keep Lowell from getting his hands on the ranch. He’d just have to hope he could manage the rest of the payments to Eddie.

  As tough as it was running the ranch now, it’d be impossible if he was dead.

  Chapter 10

  “Well,” Luka said. “I guess the whole town’s got something to talk about for the rest of the year.”

  Sydney groaned and dropped her head on folded arms. They were sitting at a table in a bar that was a lot less crowded after the almost-bar-fight. Half the staff had gone home too, since the business had dried up. “Great,” she muttered. “I’m locking myself in my room until the wedding.”

  Tommy had apologized profusely to her for acting like a caveman. He said he was just worried about her, with Cam threatening to shoot people and all. She was still kind of mad at him, but figured she’d take tonight to sort through things in her head. They could sit down and talk tomorrow.

  He’d pled exhaustion and headed home pretty soon after Cam left. Sydney was tired herself, but she wasn’t ready to go. Hanging out with Luka helped her calm down.

  Luka picked at the plate of nachos on the table and glanced at the door for the millionth time, while Sydney pretended not to notice her looking for Reese. Then she sighed. “What am I going to do with you, girl? You defended Cam Thatcher. Your mortal enemy. I don’t know what to think now.”

  “Neither do I.” Sydney’s third drink was almost gone. She drained the rest of it and shoved the glass off to the side. “Luka…what if we’re all wrong about him?”

  “Okay. Now you’re scaring me.”

  “I’m serious,” she said. “Didn’t you see how everybody acted when he came in here? Like he was a disease they could catch if he got too close.”

  Luka snorted. “That’s because he’s a big, walking asshole.”

  “See what I mean? Everybody thinks that.” She frowned. “You should’ve seen Jim Wyatt talking to him. And Kenny at the garage, earlier today. It was awful.”

  “Syd.” Luka suddenly looked serious. “He threatened to shoot your fiancé. Remember?”

  She shook her head. “That wasn’t a threat. It was more like…I don’t know. Wishful thinking, maybe. I just can’t believe he’d really shoot anyone.” At least, not after everything he’d done for her lately.

  “All right, I give up. You’re crazy,” Luka said. She glanced at the door again—and did a double-take. Her eyes got huge. “Oh my God,” she said in a loud whisper. “He’s here. Do I look terrible? Be honest.”

  Sydney couldn’t help grinning. “You look great.”

  “Well, I feel terrible. Or maybe awesome. I can’t tell.” Luka drew in a shaky br
eath and stood. “Okay, I’m gonna go say hi. I’ll be back in a few minutes, all right?”

  “Don’t come back.” Sydney got up too. “You hang out with Reese. I think I’ll go over and surprise Tommy.” He only lived a five-minute walk from the bar. Even if he was too tired to fool around—and she wasn’t sure she had the urge anymore—she could crash there and have him drive her home in the morning.

  “Sanity returns.” Luka stepped over and hugged her. “Wish me luck?”

  “You don’t need it.”

  “Right.” She rolled her eyes, waved and headed for Reese.

  Sydney slipped out of The Klinker and managed to avoid talking to anyone. It was still a balmy night, but a slight breeze kept the moisture from settling and felt delicious against her overheated skin. She walked slowly, trying to let her mind clear a little. It didn’t help that she’d already drank more than usual, including half the cocktail Tommy had bought her.

  By the time she got to his place, a second-floor apartment above a strip of boutique stores on the town’s main street, she felt a little better. More in control. There were still a few things she wanted to talk to him about, but they could wait until morning.

  She’d also resolved to apologize to Cam somehow, before the wedding and her permanent ban from the ranch. He probably wouldn’t accept it. But at least she’d feel better about it—well, she hoped so, anyway.

  She walked up the stairs, digging her keys from a pocket. Tommy had given her a key months ago, but this would be the first time she’d used it. No light shone from under his front door. If he was already asleep, she’d just crash on the couch. She unlocked the door and opened it as quietly as possible, then closed it gently.

  Inside, the only light came from the bedroom hallway. She was glad he was still awake at least, so he’d know she was here. She started down the hall—and froze when she heard laughter.

  Female laughter.

  Sydney’s stomach churned crazily. She couldn’t have heard that right. Maybe he was watching a movie or something…but he didn’t have a TV in the bedroom. She started moving again, slowly, holding her breath and listening for some sign that she was wrong.