Her Texas Cowboy

by Jill Lynn

“Hunter.” Her voice was soft, almost mournful, causing his pulse to thrum sluggishly. “I want you to be happy. I hope you find the right one.”

  He fought to keep from saying something he shouldn’t, to bury the emotion coursing through him. “I’m sure she’s out there somewhere, crying in her soup because she hasn’t found me yet.” He opted for humor, and her bark of laughter warmed him.

  “I’m sure she is.” Now she sounded serious.

  Rachel needed to stop being so nice. It was confusing, and he was going to kiss her again if she kept it up.

  “I hope you find happiness, too.” And he meant it. He’d just prefer if it was with him.

  “Thanks.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners, the light lashes casting shadows over her cheekbones.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “No.”

  Her answer mimicked his from earlier, and he chuckled. No one was as quick with a retort as Rachel. He splashed a light amount of water toward her, then continued despite her response. “Are you going to tell me what had you so upset earlier when you came over?”

  “What do you mean? I was fine.”

  Her favorite claim. “Rach, I know you better than that.”

  He held on to her gaze with his and waited.

  “It was just...” Her slight shrug made ripples in the water. “I told you about getting the job and you just took off. And then I didn’t hear from you.” She sank lower in the pool, the jut of her chin dipping below the surface. “I didn’t know if you were upset or if something was wrong.”

  She’d missed him. The knowledge rose up, shouting for attention.

  “I just had a lot to do with work.” And I was figuring out what to do next about you. About the fact that I can’t seem to want anyone but you, you stubborn, gorgeous, annoying woman who’s leaving me. Again.

  The fact that she cared, that she’d missed him, was messing with every resolve he’d set to keep himself from doing something stupid—like easing forward to taste her lips again, or to say, Hey, what if you stayed? How about that? Just like the last time.

  But he wouldn’t ask. He couldn’t. What had she told him? A ten. That’s how badly she wanted this job. And he wasn’t going to be the one to stop her.

  The irony choked him. After all of these years, he was getting to her. She was opening up again. And now she was moving for sure.

  They only had a small amount of time left together, and Hunter planned to spend every minute he could with her. Even knowing his heart was going to just shrivel and give up beating when she left.

  She might as well take it with her when she went. He wouldn’t have any need for it after she was gone.

  * * *

  “So you weren’t upset that I took the job?”

  Rachel wasn’t sure why she cared so much. Or why she’d sought out Hunter in the first place. But now that they were knee-deep in this conversation, she wanted to finish it. To know.

  “No.” Some emotion she couldn’t decipher flickered in his eyes. “I’m happy for you, Rach. I’m sorry I was MIA.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t know what came over me. I think...” The air in her lungs rushed out. “The thought of leaving has me pretty messed up.”

  “That’s understandable. This is your home. It might not be easy to go.” Hunter swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing for you.”

  Peace trickled in. “That’s true.” Her shoulders inched lower. “Thank you for talking this out with me.”

  “And for forcing you into the pool.”

  “No.” She wrung her ponytail out. “Not for forcing me into the pool.”

  Except...maybe a little. Only Hunter could break through her defenses like this. He’d been her best friend when they were younger, and he was dangerously close to owning the position again. Though she hadn’t said it, leaving him might be harder than saying goodbye to her nephews. How could she think such a thing? She could get arrested and thrown in aunt jail for a confession like that.

  Rachel was losing the battle to stay detached. Who was she kidding? That ship had sailed weeks ago.

  But now was not the time to be falling for Hunter again. Pull yourself together, Maddox. Her pathetic little pep talk didn’t make a dent in her current frame of mind.

  The noise of the gate opening made Rachel’s head whip in that direction. A police officer walked into the backyard, his flashlight—and thankfully nothing else—drawn and pointed at them.

  “You kids need to get out of there. Trespassing is breaking the law.”

  Kids? Trespassing? She faced Hunter. Her concern was echoed in the pinch of his brow.

  “We’re not trespassing,” he replied. “I can explain.”

  The flashlight settled on Hunter’s chin. “Do you own this house?”

  “No, sir, but my—”

  “Then you can explain once you’re out of the pool.”

  Rachel scowled at Hunter, lowering her voice. “I thought you said you had permission to be here?”

  “I do. We’ll get it straightened out. Don’t worry.”

  Don’t worry? Unfortunately she’d ridden in the back of a police car once before, and she had no desire to repeat the experience because Hunter had had a crazy idea.

  Once she reached the tiled edge of the pool, Rachel lifted herself out, then followed the police officer and Hunter to the front of the house. Her apprehension lessened at the realization that he didn’t have his emergency lights on. And that he made no motion to retrieve the handcuffs hanging from his belt, their metal gleaming in the headlights of the cruiser.

  But he did open the back door of the police car. “Get in while we figure this out.”

  Rachel balked. She’d rather bare her innermost secrets to a group of nosy busybodies than get in that vehicle. But what was she supposed to do? Argue with the officer?

  Hunter’s hand slipped around hers and squeezed. Warm. Reassuring. “We’ll work this out, but we don’t need to make him upset.” His voice registered just above a whisper, as calm as if they were deciding on which brand of cereal to purchase. “Just get in. It’s okay.”

  But it wasn’t. After one long exhale, she ducked and slid into the seat, and Hunter quickly followed.

  When the officer asked them why they’d been in the pool when the homeowner wasn’t home, Hunter explained. He got out his phone and relayed Marc’s number to the officer so he could clear things up. Then they waited.

  The air-conditioning in the police car was blasting. Rachel’s hair was dripping, her clothes were soaked, her feet bare. She shivered.

  Without invitation, Hunter wrapped an arm around her and tucked her against him. When she resisted, he cocked his head back far enough to meet her gaze. “Really? I know you’re freezing. I can feel you shaking.”

  “I’m not.” Her chattering teeth gave her away. Fine. She would soak up a little of his warmth. Rachel eased against him, his heat seeping through their wet clothes. She would stay here, crushed against his rock-hard chest, but she wouldn’t enjoy it. Not one bit.

  “This is a big deal, you know.” Once again, she’d just backtracked miles in changing how people thought of her.

  Hunter’s hand slid up and down her arm. She was not going to admit it felt comforting. Was. Not. “It’s not like Marc’s going to press charges. They’re going to figure out that I know him and that we weren’t trespassing.”

  She ground her jaw tight. “And in the meantime, here we are, sitting in the back of a cop car. It’s like the old Rachel’s back.”

  Again Hunter shifted so he could see her face. “The old Rachel isn’t back, but so what if she is? I liked that Rachel. I like this Rachel. You’re one and the same.”

  “I’m not.” She certainly hoped she wasn’t.

  “Why don’t you want to be that girl?”<
br />
  Wasn’t it obvious? “She was a screwup.” With pretty much everything—life, school, family. Picking the worst guys. “I’ve worked so hard not to be her anymore.”

  “You’re nowhere near a screwup. I’m not sure why you’re so hard on yourself. We didn’t do anything wrong tonight. And as for when you were a teenager, so what if you did a few things you regret? There’s grace for that. No one thinks anything bad about you.”

  “The whole town does.”

  “Rach,” he held her gaze, a seriousness unusual for him pulling on his features. “I think that might be in your head. I don’t notice anyone treating you that way.”

  Had she really changed enough to convince everyone? Or had she only imagined they thought the worst of her when it wasn’t necessarily true?

  “People love you exactly as you are. You were great when you were a teenager and you’re just as amazing now. And you’re going to be really good at this job.” Hunter squared his shoulders. “You’re meant for this.” His deep breath was audible, his tone somehow conveying pain and sweetness at the same time. “I’m proud of you.”

  She believed him, but she didn’t know why the words hurt. Her emotions felt as though they’d been sent through a blender tonight.

  But Hunter was right. They’d get this cleared up. It would work out.

  She just didn’t have any confidence she could say the same for the state of her falling heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Whatever you do, don’t fall off the float. And don’t have any fun.”

  Hunter’s directions caused the teens to laugh and Rachel to do the usual regarding his teasing—shake her head and fight the curve of her lips. It was the morning of the Independence Day parade, and the kids were jittery with excitement. One of them falling off probably wasn’t as much of a joke as Hunter made it out to be.

  Rachel and Hunter had only spent about twenty minutes in the back of the cop car on Monday before things had worked out exactly like Hunter had said they would. Turned out a neighbor had heard Rachel screaming when Hunter sent her flying into the pool. They’d known Marc was out of town and had thought some kids had broken into the backyard for a swim. But after talking to Marc, the police officer had let them go without issue.

  She’d almost forgiven Hunter for the ordeal—not that she planned to admit that to him yet.

  Rachel finished applying thick black lines across Bree’s cheekbones. A few of the girls had decided to dress as football players. There were other sports represented, too—volleyball, cheerleading, soccer.

  At least the float had become about more than just football, but barely.

  “Thanks.” Bree’s gratitude was short and not necessarily sweet. Since she’d overheard Rachel on the phone, she’d shuttered again. Not as badly as the first time around—she was still cordial. Polite. None of the angst from when they’d first met. But she definitely hadn’t texted to request another chat on Rachel’s swing. When Rachel had asked her about whether she’d talked to her parents, Bree had answered with, “Yep.” She hadn’t expounded on how the conversation had gone or if she felt any peace. The girl had closed down like a Chick-fil-A on Sunday.

  Rachel hated that she was hurting Bree, but she wasn’t sure what to do about it. Not like she could stay here just for the teen. She wasn’t even letting herself consider that option in regard to her family. Or Hunter.

  That thought—it was off-limits. She’d already made her decision. No going back now.

  With her stuff mostly packed and her departure scheduled for the day after tomorrow, a big boulder had settled in her stomach. It was trying to drag her down, to drown her in doubts over her decision and sorrow over leaving everyone.

  The whole lot of them were messing with her dreams of this job in Houston.

  But she wasn’t going to concentrate on any of that today. Because the day of the parade was finally here. It started in exactly twelve minutes, and Rachel only wanted to think about how hard the kids had worked and how great the float looked. Today was about celebrating their teamwork and even this town that had won over her affections.

  Once all of the kids were stationed on the float and had the bags of candy they’d be doling out, she and Hunter climbed into the cab of his truck in order to pull the trailer.

  He checked his rear and side view mirrors. The man might joke around. A lot. But she had every confidence he’d keep the kids safe.

  “You ready for this?” His face softened as he glanced at her. He made her stomach do backflips and forward flips and cliff dives. Those dimples. She’d probably devoted a page or twenty in her diary to them when she was younger and hadn’t wanted to admit to anyone that she thought the neighbor boy was cute. And...it had only taken her one second to veer off course. We’re not going there, today. Remember?

  She managed to nod in answer to his question. About time, too, because he was shooting her a look of concern/confusion.

  “They did a great job.”

  “They did.” The same innocent look of contentment Grayson wore when he found a new bug or when Cash took him out on the ranch was evident on Hunter’s face, making Rachel pull her resolve tight around her. Two more days and she’d be gone—on to the next step in her life—and she wouldn’t have to work at resisting her feelings for Hunter anymore.

  She could do it, couldn’t she?

  She had to. Because if anything more happened between them now, it would only make leaving worse. And she didn’t want to do that to either of them.

  * * *

  They’d survived the parade route without losing any kids and without any injuries, but Hunter was dangerously close to losing his mind. He’d dropped Rachel and the kids off near the festivities so he could drive the float home and leave it in the barn before heading back to town, but the scent of her still lingered in the cab of his truck. Sweet. Torturous.

  He was afraid if he failed to stay away from her and she still left, he might just shut down and stop functioning. That would really make Dad mad, having to handle everything on his own without Hunter’s help. Perversely, that thought cheered him. Deep down, he did love his father. He just didn’t always understand him.

  After unhitching the float, Hunter drove back into the packed town. Part of Main Street was still blocked off, and vendors dotted the blacktop, their colorful food trucks and tarped stands boasting homemade goods, American flags and festive trinkets.

  He cracked his window and live music drifted in along with a rush of hot air. There’d been a slew of small local bands playing music all day, and they’d continue after dinner so people could dance the night away.

  After searching for a spot nearby, Hunter gave up and parked blocks away, hoofing it to the area with long picnic tables spread between booths of food. He scanned for a familiar face and spotted Rachel sitting with her brother, Olivia and the boys. He made his way in their direction. When he neared, she looked up, and her smile lit with her greeting. All of that sunshine, just for him. She was going to kill him with it. Did she have any idea he’d fallen for her all over again? Or that he’d never really stopped?

  Hunter shook off the melancholy that attempted to choke him. No pouting. This wasn’t a sulking kind of night.

  “I got you a plate.” She motioned to the seat next to her and a paper plate covered by a napkin. Under it, he found a barbeque sandwich, the local sauce dripping from the meat. Chips were overflowing alongside.

  He greeted Cash and Olivia, said hello to the boys then dug in.

  They attempted adult conversation—the ranch with Cash and the upcoming volleyball season with Olivia. But the boys were too excited to do anything close to sitting still. They were keyed up, likely spinning from the large amounts of candy that had been tossed to the crowd during the parade. Cash and Olivia did their best to corral them into eating, but Hunter doubted more than a few bites were shoveled in be
tween questions from Grayson.

  How late do I get to stay up?

  When are the fireworks?

  And Hunter’s personal favorite—When can we get dessert?

  Ryder toddled along the seat, and Grayson climbed up on the picnic bench, then got down numerous times until Cash finally gave an exasperated sigh and stood. He swung Ryder onto his shoulders and reached for Grayson’s hand. “Let’s go pick out a piece of pie.”

  At Grayson’s cheer and Ryder’s clapping approval, Olivia stood and joined them. “We’ll be back.”

  Rachel waved as they walked away, then faced Hunter. Tears glistened in her eyes.

  “You okay?”

  Her head bobbed but then changed directions. “No.” She blinked back the moisture. “How am I going to leave them?”

  It was painful not to plead his case. They all had reasons for wanting her to stay. Hunter was confident Cash and Olivia wanted her to live here just as much as he did. But they all quietly knew the same thing—the choice had to be hers. No one was going to impose an opinion on her. “You’re going to be amazing. And you’ll be back to visit.”

  Her eyelids closed and she nodded again. “You’re right.”

  “Kind of prideful, if you ask me.” At his teasing, her eyes popped open and she laughed. The sound made him happy and sad all at the same time.

  “I meant the part about coming back to visit.”

  “I know.” Hunter had cleared his plateful of barbeque in record time and now, much like Grayson, he couldn’t wait for dessert. He pushed up from the bench, motioning for her to join him. “Let’s go get something sweet.” Hunter would gladly forgo sugar of the baking variety and choose Rachel instead, but unfortunately, that option wasn’t on the menu.

  She stood, her flowered sundress flirting above her knees as they gathered their trash.

  By the time they’d stood in line and then finished their pieces of fresh strawberry pie, the band had switched and a new one had started. Kids were spread across a corner of the dance floor, shaking out their excess energy with crazy dance moves while the adults two-stepped. Cash and Liv were dancing, Ryder held between them while Grayson looked like he’d been two-stepping since he was born. He’d even asked a little girl to dance. A bit choppy, but still, impressive.