Her Texas Cowboy

by Jill Lynn

  Brennon stopped next to his wife, his concerned look jutting between the two of them.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yep.” Their answers were simultaneous.

  “I’m going to run and get Connor from the nursery.” Val backed away as if she’d rather be next to a person with an infectious disease right now than him.

  She headed for the steps, and Brennon watched her go before turning back to Hunter.

  “How’s the hole you dug?”

  Hunter let out a noise that was half laugh, half disgusted sigh. “Excellent, thanks for asking.”

  “Listen, I think I have a way you can fix this. I just heard from one of the school board members that the high school is adding another guidance counselor this year. The money just came through, and they only have a few weeks to fill it. This is perfect for Rachel. Call her. Go see her. Convince her to come back. Not to sound selfish about the whole thing, but I’d really like my sweet, happy wife back.”

  Despite wanting his friend to have exactly that, Hunter wasn’t about to do what Brennon said. That would defeat the whole purpose of letting Rachel go in the first place.

  “At least tell me you’ll think about it. You’re a mess. Rachel’s a mess. I don’t understand what’s going on in your head.”

  And he couldn’t. Hunter didn’t need Brennon knowing and then telling Val, who would then tell Rachel. Nope. Things had to stay as they were, no matter how much Hunter wanted a different ending. He’d come this far. He wasn’t going to change his mind now.

  “I’ll think about it.” Hunter could add that to his list of untruths.

  Brennon took off to catch up with Val and Connor, and Hunter headed for the church doors. This time, it was his phone that made him pause.

  It was a text from Autumn.

  Remember we’re celebrating Dad’s birthday today with lunch at his house. I’ve got all of the food. (You’re welcome.) So just come. And don’t even think about skipping. I just saw you at church so I know where you are and how long it should take you to get there.

  Perfect. Hanging with his family ranked nowhere on his want list for the day. Hunter had penciled in moping and kicking things. So much for that.

  Could he use checking on Moose as an excuse to skip out on lunch? After Rachel had left, Hunter had headed over to the shelter and adopted him, hoping the pooch would give him something to focus on and lessen the sting of missing Rachel. No offense to Moose, because Hunter did have a soft spot for the big oaf, but the dog wasn’t a worthy replacement for his girl.

  And since Hunter had left Moose outside with water and food under a big shade tree, that excuse wouldn’t fly.

  He texted Autumn back.

  Fine. I’ll be there.

  You’d better be.

  I already said I’ll be there!

  Hunter shoved the phone back in his pocket. He was irritable enough to not want to celebrate anything—especially his equally grumpy father—but Autumn would never let him get away with that. He wasn’t even sure why she wanted him there today. He wasn’t exactly pleasant company.

  Fear wound around his throat, choking him. After all he’d done in order not to turn into his father, he was sure acting and sounding a lot like him.

  Maybe he already was him.

  Scary thought.

  Hunter went to lunch. He even ate lasagna, but he wasn’t happy about it. Except for when Kinsley climbed into his lap and tried to push his mouth out of a frown by manipulating his cheeks. He had a soft spot the size of the Grand Canyon for his niece.

  At least Autumn waited until Kinsley ran off to play before launching her inquisition.

  “What in the world is going on with you?”

  The million-dollar question. He’d learned at least one thing about himself in the process of losing Rachel a second time—he was no good at hiding his emotions. After the first breakup, Autumn had known immediately something was wrong. And now? Felt like the whole town knew.

  Except for his dad, who barely looked up from his slice of lemon meringue pie.

  Autumn’s husband, Calvin, was a quiet guy. Steady. Good to Hunter’s sister. Not one for conflict, based on the way his eyes widened and scanned the room for an escape.

  Hunter empathized.

  “I don’t understand why you just let Rachel go.” Autumn’s voice heated, scorching like cement under bare feet on a sizzling summer day. “I heard there’s an opening at the high school for a guidance counselor. Are you going to let her know?” How did everyone know about this position but him? And why were they all pushing? Next thing he knew, even his dad would be weighing in.

  Calvin stood. “I’ll just...clear some dishes.”

  Hunter considered running for it along with his brother-in-law, but decided to tough it out. He’d have to face Autumn sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.

  “I told you in the beginning we were only friends. That was the plan. Right along with her moving.” He was pleasantly surprised by how calm he sounded. Usually composure came easily to him, but it felt like his laid-back nature had hitchhiked a ride out of town with Rachel. He was afraid it might never come back—another thing that eerily reminded him of his father.

  “So, no, I’m not going to let Rachel know about the job. She’s a big girl. She can make her own decisions.”

  “Were you two dating?” Dad’s gruff interest mystified Hunter, and it must have done the same to Autumn, because both of their gazes swung to him. “What?” He scowled. “Can’t I have an interest in my son’s life?”

  Hunter clenched his jaw to keep from saying any one of the not-so-kind comments filtering through his mind. Since when did Dad care about what went on in their lives? Had Hunter entered some parallel universe? Or maybe he was still dreaming and hadn’t woken up for church yet.

  “No.” His answer to his father’s first question came out far more sad than angry. “We weren’t.”

  Autumn attempted to say more, but Hunter switched the conversation to the ranch—despite his sister’s glare—and Dad took it from there.

  After a bit, Autumn and Calvin rounded up Kinsley to take her home for a nap. Hunter offered to finish cleaning up and sent them off. He made a trip into the kitchen and returned to find his dad still sitting at the table, studying him as though he could predict the next year’s weather. A bit unnerving since the man rarely noticed anything about anyone but himself.

  “Autumn is right. You should tell Rachel about the job, you know. She might be interested.”

  Hunter braced his hands on the table. Hung his head. The pressure of Rachel leaving and everyone having an opinion about it felt like a precariously slippery ditch he couldn’t seem to climb out of. Every time he tried, someone shoved him back down.

  His dad didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. And he needed to leave it alone. “Who are you to have an opinion about my life? You checked out back when mom left, maybe even before that, and you haven’t been present since.” The words were a landslide he couldn’t get back. But part of him didn’t want to. It might have come out without thought, but it was true.

  Surprisingly, his dad didn’t immediately have a retort. He simply released an audible breath, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “I know.”

  Hunter couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. His dad never admitted fault. In business. In his personal life. Never.

  “I wasn’t there for you. I thought building a business, a ranch for you to take over one day would show you I loved you. I avoided the pain of your mom’s troubles by concentrating on work.” His dad’s eyes filled with moisture—a sight Hunter had only witnessed once in his life. All of these years he’d wondered and hadn’t asked. Well, now he was mad enough to let the words flow.

  “Why did you do it? Why did you convince Mom to marry you when you knew she didn’t want to live on a r
anch? When she was going to be so sad? Why’d you beg her to stay? And then turn bitter when she didn’t?”

  His dad’s brow pinched. “What do you mean?”

  “You always told me Mom didn’t want to ranch, but that you convinced her she’d eventually love it. If you hadn’t pushed her—”

  “We used to tell you that story because it was true. Mom was a city girl. I did convince her to live here with me, to marry me, and she was happy.”

  “What? Mom was never happy here.”

  His father’s features etched with anguish. “She was. When we were first married, she tried gardening. Canning. She got involved at church and began to feel connected. She did love it here, at first. But then...” Dad’s fingertips dug into his closed eyelids. “But then she had Autumn. After, she struggled through some depression. It looked like she was going to get better, but when she got pregnant with you, it sent her into a downward spiral again. We tried so many things to help her. So many doctors. Medications. Prayer. Therapy. Nothing worked. It was like she’d stepped into a darkness and I couldn’t find her. Nothing I did helped. She pushed me away, and I let her. I didn’t know what to do.”

  Hunter’s thoughts scrambled over one another like puppies in a pen. “But I always thought... I always thought that she’d given up her life for us and that it had broken her. That she’d been so despondent because you’d convinced her to marry you even though it wasn’t what she’d wanted.”

  His dad’s sigh was as long as the decades of hurt between them. “No, that wasn’t the issue,” he continued, voice quiet. “The story we used to tell you was true. I did convince her. I knew I couldn’t live without her, but she was content here for a while. Until her illness. But you are right to blame me. I wanted to help her and I failed.” His father pushed up from the wooden chair. Walked to the window. “I was so confused. So lost. I wrote her a letter once, thinking maybe since I was so bad at telling her how I felt, that writing it would help. Would remind her how much I loved her, no matter what.”

  The letter Hunter had found. Hunter couldn’t believe his father was bringing it up.

  “But then, like a fool, I didn’t give it to her.”

  What?

  “Maybe if I had told her more often how much I loved her. How much I wanted her here...maybe it would have made a difference.”

  “What do you mean you never gave Mom that letter?”

  His dad’s gaze snapped to him, filled with a heat that seared across Hunter’s skin. “You knew about it?”

  “I found it once when I was younger. It looked as though it had been read over numerous times.”

  His dad studied his hands and cleared his throat. Took a few seconds to steady his visually cracking composure. “I read it over the years. Punished myself with it after Mom left. Regretted not giving it to her. Being young and immature wasn’t an excuse. I’d been prideful.”

  The creases in his dad’s brow multiplied. “By the time I wrote that letter, she’d begun to take out some things on me. I didn’t know what was happening. I just thought she didn’t love me any longer. And so, instead of fighting for her, instead of giving her the letter or telling her how I felt, I let her go. I let her slip away one day at a time. I’ll always regret it. I should have fought for her. I should have given her the letter and hundreds more, no matter how she was treating me or what I assumed she thought about me. I was hurt and wounded and I let it affect my decisions. It was so hard to lose her when we’d once been so happy. Watching her suffer and not being able to fix it. The more she struggled, the more I broke, too.”

  Hunter wanted to harden his heart against this man he’d never understood. But his grasp on that anger was slipping into sorrow. His father hadn’t turned angry and bitter because his mom hadn’t stayed or because he’d fought for her and lost, but because he’d never fought at all.

  The opposite of everything Hunter had ever believed. Pain pounded in his temples. He’d been such a jerk to Rachel, and his actions had been based on false conclusions. How could he have been so foolish?

  All of this time, Hunter had been wrong. He’d been self-righteous, assuming he knew what was best for Rachel. Driving her away from him when all he’d wanted to do was battle to keep her—even if he didn’t know what that would look like. Why couldn’t they date like she’d suggested? Why couldn’t they have had an adult conversation and figured things out?

  He’d been such an idiot. At this point, she must hate him. He’d hidden his true feelings from her—which sounded a bit like the story unfolding in front of him.

  Hunter had always thought his dad was a jerk to his mom. That he’d ruined her life. But his dad had just been hurt and confused, and he’d done his best with a wife who’d changed. Who’d had an illness that nothing helped. Compassion for his father flooded him for the first time in his life. His dad wasn’t to blame. Had never been. The man had held himself accountable all of these years for his mom’s decline, and Hunter had been only too happy to join him in heaping on the guilt.

  Hunter finally understood. Could finally forgive.

  The question was, would Rachel ever do the same regarding his mistakes? The wall around her that had taken most of the summer to break through was back up. And if he knew her at all, she didn’t have any plans to ever let it down again.

  He pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “This changes so much. I didn’t know...didn’t understand.” His dad’s red eyes broadcasted the grief their conversation had induced. “Dad, I’m so sorry.”

  “For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “For all of it. I should have...” Asked sooner. Had more faith in his father instead of blaming him.

  “Me, too, son. Me, too.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  During her first week in Houston, Rachel had accomplished very little except going to work and heading home to Dana’s apartment at night. She was supposed to be hunting for a place to live. She was also supposed to be happy.

  Dana had forced her to go out to dinner last night, and she had perked up a bit.

  Until she’d crawled onto the couch and tried to sleep. She’d never been so exhausted in all of her life, yet was unable to find any rest.

  Rachel walked to her Jeep in the school parking lot, the heat and humidity thick like warm, sticky Jell-O. It was Monday. Mondays were good for lists and plans. She’d hoped today was the day excitement over getting her dream job would kick in and she would stop thinking about Hunter.

  Hadn’t happened.

  Instead, she’d had three parent meetings at school. What had they all been about? Getting their kids into Ivy League universities. None of their children showed any interest in that very thing, but parents were lining up at her door.

  Rachel had taken this job so she could help students. She hadn’t realized so much of her interaction would be with their parents. She’d assumed it would get better once school started and the kids were on campus. But when she’d broached that question today with her supervisor, she’d only confirmed Rachel’s worst fears. It seemed at this school, parents were always going to take up a large chunk of her time.

  And she was afraid that wasn’t the only reason she couldn’t find any joy in the job she’d wanted so badly. She missed her people back home. And home itself. But what was she going to do about that now? It was too late. She’d made a decision, and she needed to stick with it.

  Her phone rang, muffled in her purse, and Rachel dug for it.

  Val.

  She wasn’t going to be disappointed that Hunter’s name didn’t appear on the screen. Was not. And in that same vein, she also didn’t miss his texts. Or his voice. Or the way he teased her constantly and made her laugh.

  Rachel didn’t miss any of those things.

  She swiped to answer, infusing perkiness into her hello.

  “Hey, I thought you’d be at work an
d I’d have to leave a message.”

  “Just walking out.”

  “I have some news for you.”

  “What about?”

  “Hunter. Do you want to hear it? Or are you content as can be down there?”

  Air leaked from her lungs. “I’m...not unhappy.” But wasn’t the opposite of happy exactly that?

  Rachel unlocked her Jeep and got in, then started it and cranked the air-conditioning, trying to combat the heat that had swelled as the vehicle roasted in the sun all day.

  “Hunter said something to me yesterday that I haven’t been able to get out of my mind. He asked me about you. Asked how you were.”

  “He did?”

  “Yep. And when he did, I said, if you’re so concerned about Rachel, why’d you push her away? To which he replied, ‘This was her dream.’”

  What? “What does that mean?”

  “I’m starting to think the reason Hunter reacted the way he did isn’t because he doesn’t care, but because he does.”

  A flutter started in Rachel’s chest and she broke into a sweat. She adjusted the vents to pummel her arms and face with crisp, cool air.

  “Then why would he say those things to me?”

  “So that you’d go. Tell me this. How confident were you that he felt something for you—a lot for you—before he sent you packing?”

  At times she’d wondered what he was thinking, but mostly Rachel had listened to her heart and observed the way he treated her. Deep down, she’d known that he had to feel something for her. “I didn’t really doubt it.” Not with the way he’d protected her and watched out for her. The way he was always there when she needed him. And his kisses...

  “Maybe he didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t take the job. Did you tell him how badly you wanted it?”

  Rachel’s eyes closed. “Yes.” A ten, she’d told him. Not even a sliver of a doubt. And then, in the police car that night, he’d encouraged her. Told her how amazing she would be at it.