No Getting Over a Cowboy

by Delores Fossen

  Alcoholic was a fairly sterile label, but he suspected that her situation had been anything but sterile. With all the times her father had been arrested, there’d probably been more assaults.

  “Things got bad,” Nicky added. “My brother and he clashed a lot, and that’s why Kyle left. I didn’t have the courage to do that, too.”

  “Because of your mother?” That was the first thing that’d popped into his head.

  She nodded. “In part. But also because I didn’t have any other place to go. No aunts, uncles or cousins, and Kyle rarely called. It took us years to reconnect, and that was only after I’d finally moved out and was in college.”

  “When we were dating, you could have told me what was going on at home,” he assured her.

  “No. I couldn’t have.” She huffed, pushed her hair from her face. “Heck, in those days, I couldn’t admit it to myself. No way would I have said anything to you. You were the high school star, and you’d asked me out. I was the girl in the school band who was from the wrong side of the tracks.”

  He could have pointed out that they’d both lived on the same side of the tracks, but that would sound smart-ass-ish. Best not to let his ass do anything but listen right now.

  “We were dirt poor,” she continued. “And you’re a Granger. I didn’t want to do or say anything to blow it with you. I especially didn’t want you to know that my life wasn’t perfect, the way I thought yours was.”

  “It wasn’t perfect. My dad wasn’t a drunk, but he was an asshole. He never hit me, though.”

  “Lucky you.” She didn’t sound begrudging about that. “When things would get bad, I’d sneak over to Z.T.’s house. It was my sanctuary, you see, a place where I’d go to get away from things. The library especially. So many books, and I could sit there and read for hours.” She paused. “That probably doesn’t make sense.”

  Yeah, it did, because he’d gotten away there plenty of times. Most recently after he’d seen Meredith’s sex video.

  “I sneaked into the place,” Nicky added. “That means I trespassed. If I’d known there was a body in the kitchen closet, I might not have been so eager to run there.” She added a brief smile to that, maybe because this conversation had gotten too serious.

  Garrett, however, wasn’t ready to go light just yet. “That’s not why you had sex with me, was it?” He shook his head when he realized he hadn’t clarified that enough. “Did you have sex with me so you wouldn’t lose me?”

  “No. That was a hormonal thing. I was about to turn eighteen and was still a virgin. Metaphorically, I was ready to be plucked.” She dismissed it with the wave of her hand.

  Garrett frowned again. He wasn’t sure he liked her thinking of what they’d done as “plucking.” “Are you sure? Because—”

  He didn’t get to finish. That’s because Nicky huffed, came up on her tiptoes and silenced him.

  By putting her mouth to his.

  * * *

  NICKY KNEW THIS was a mistake. No doubt about it. It was a huge one, too. But sometimes making a mistake was better than the emotional bloodletting that would happen if Garrett kept up with these questions.

  Besides, it wasn’t as if she was actually into the kiss or anything.

  She remembered the feel of his mouth, of course. That was because Nicky had catalogued everything about Garrett. His taste, his scent, the way his hand felt on her skin. And she hadn’t been able to uncatalogue all of that after he’d broken up with her. Now, it all came flooding back.

  Apparently, Garrett didn’t immediately get caught in that flood because he stiffened, and for a moment she thought he might pull away and ask her if she’d lost her mind. He could flat out reject her for a second time.

  He didn’t.

  The stiffness only lasted a couple of seconds before a husky sound rumbled in his chest. Maybe a sound of approval because Garrett put his hand on her waist, eased her closer. So close that his body brushed against hers, and she got another memory of what it was like to have Garrett take her.

  Heck, she was into the kiss.

  That was a huge flapping red flag, plenty big enough to cause her to step back. No way should she be doing this.

  “That was payback,” she said when she found her breath.

  It was a lie, but it seemed to be a believable one because his eyes narrowed a bit. At least the kiss had served its purpose of getting him away from those questions she didn’t want to answer.

  Or not.

  “You don’t want to talk about your dad,” Garrett threw out there. “I get that. But my apology for being a jerk stands. So does my second apology for complicating that kiss. If I hadn’t put my hand on you just now, you probably would have kept it as a little payback peck.”

  Mercy. It was as if he could see right through her. And Nicky wanted no part of that.

  They stood there, probably still too close to each other, but for Nicky to leave, she’d have to touch Garrett to get past him. That wouldn’t be a good idea, either, and she’d used up her bad idea quota for the day.

  “That night we were together at Z.T.’s house,” he started. “I didn’t know you were a virgin. If you’d told me, I would never have let things go as far as they did.”

  Well, that was a mouthful of a confession. One that stung more than she wanted to admit. “So, if I had been the sort to sleep around, you would have gone for it?”

  “Probably,” he readily admitted. “Because I would have assumed that sex wasn’t a commitment for you.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “I wasn’t ready for a commitment.”

  Not to her anyway.

  “You committed to Meredith just a few weeks later,” she reminded him. “Love at first sight.”

  His mouth tightened. “Something like that. But the point is, I wouldn’t have been with you like that if I’d known the big picture.”

  They were talking about her father now, about the physical abuse. He probably thought she’d been vulnerable and that he’d essentially taken advantage of her by taking her virginity. It probably hadn’t helped his outlook when she’d confessed to him that she hadn’t wanted to lose him.

  Well, heck. Now, she was feeling sorry for him. She blamed the kiss, of course. It had put a hole in an emotional barrier that needed to stay intact.

  “It’s okay,” she assured him. “There’s no reason for you to apologize. That all happened a very long time ago, and I don’t even think of it anymore. And I didn’t come back to Wrangler’s Creek to punish you or to try to rekindle things between us. I only want us both to go on with our happy, separate lives.”

  That little speech was a mixed bag of truth and lies, and Nicky wasn’t sure exactly which was which. Man, when she’d decided to come to the ranch, she hadn’t thought that Garrett was going to be this much of a problem.

  He finally moved away from her, starting for the door, but his phone rang, the sound shooting through the RV. They were still close enough that she could see Clay’s name on the screen.

  “He’s probably calling to give you the same update he gave me,” Nicky volunteered.

  Garrett stepped outside, clearing the path for her to get around him without touching, and Nicky decided to head to the house to check on Kaylee. But Garrett put the call on speaker, and when she heard Clay’s voice, Nicky stopped cold.

  “I’m at Z.T.’s house,” Clay said. “We found something.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  GARRETT LOOKED AT the items that were laid out on a table in the library. The items that the CSIs had obviously found. Nicky was as focused on the stuff as Garrett was. Probably a little alarmed, too.

  One of these things was not like the others.

  There was a man’s plaid suit, shoes, socks. All of them were old and dusty like the rest of the house, and they seemed to be from a different
era. The sixties or seventies was his guess. The other item on the table was a delicate silver necklace.

  It wasn’t like the other things simply because it was jewelry rather than an item of clothing. And seemed to belong to a woman. It was one of those necklaces where the silver spelled out a name.

  And that name was Nicky.

  “These were all beneath there,” Clay explained, and he tipped his head to the burgundy velvet chaise.

  Yep, the very one where Nicky and he had had sex.

  Garrett hadn’t remembered Nicky wearing a necklace like that, but after one glance at her face, he knew it was hers. In that glance he also understood that she’d probably left it there on the infamous night, and that in turn meant they were going to have to explain this to Clay.

  “The necklace was only about an inch from the upper right leg of the lounger or whatever the heck you call it,” Clay went on. “The clothes were neatly folded and tucked beneath it.” He shifted his gaze to Nicky. “Should I guess what went on here, or do you have an explanation?”

  “It’s my necklace,” she said at the same time that Garrett said, “She didn’t know the clothes were here.”

  Garrett glanced at her again to verify that was true. No, she hadn’t known.

  “I used to come here to read when I was a teenager,” Nicky added. There was no hint in her voice that she’d come here to escape. “I guess the necklace fell off or something,” she added.

  Probably the “or something.” The foreplay that night on the chaise had been frantic, fast and had involved groping. The clasp had probably come undone and caused it to fall to the floor.

  Clay looked at both of them, and he didn’t have to be a cop to fill in the blanks, especially because Garrett was certain that Nicky and he looked guilty.

  “You believe these clothes belong to the John Doe?” Garrett asked in part because he truly wanted to know but also he wanted to stop the glances that Clay was volleying between them. Those glances were making Garrett feel even guiltier than he already did.

  “It’s possible. John Doe’s hatband is identical to the plaid on the suit.”

  It was. Garrett could see that now. He doubted that was a coincidence unless that color plaid was a fashion statement during that time.

  “This was next to the pile of clothes,” Clay went on, and he picked up a small plastic evidence bag from the back of a chair. He dropped it on the table next to the other items, and Nicky and Garrett leaned in to take a closer look.

  It was a faded receipt from the town’s only gas station. And it was dated twenty-one years ago. So, the John Doe hadn’t been from the sixties or seventies after all. That meant this murder, death or whatever the hell it was had happened in Garrett’s lifetime. Not exactly a comforting thought.

  “It wasn’t a credit card purchase,” Clay explained. “No way to trace it. I’ve already called Arlo out at the gas station and asked if he remembers a customer dressed like this. Arlo didn’t remember if he’d put on underwear today so I struck out there.”

  That didn’t surprise Garrett. Arlo wasn’t a bright bulb, but even if he had been, it would have been a long shot for him to recall a customer from over two decades ago. Someone in town, though, might remember the plaid suit, and he was certain that Clay would ask around about that. Garrett would certainly ask his mother, but he suspected she would hear the gossip before he spoke with her. The CSIs probably wouldn’t keep this close to the vest since getting the word out might help ID the guy.

  “There could be prints on it,” Clay added. “If so, then it might help us get an ID on the John Doe.”

  “And maybe it doesn’t even belong to the dead guy,” Garrett reminded him. “Someone else could have dropped it over the years.”

  Clay nodded, acknowledging that could be true. “But you can see now why I asked about what had gone on here. You’re both thirty-four, and that would have meant this guy was here when you were thirteen or so. Any chance the necklace got lost around that time?”

  “No,” Nicky and he answered in unison. It was Nicky who continued. “I didn’t start coming here to read until I was sixteen.”

  “And Nicky and I weren’t here together until two years after that,” Garrett added.

  Clay nodded and seemed relieved about that. Hell, had he really thought the two of them had knocked off the John Doe?

  “And the times you came here, you didn’t see anyone else or notice any odd smells?” Clay pressed.

  Nicky put her hand over her stomach. Oh, no. He hoped this didn’t set off another puking spell.

  She shook her head. “No one was here. Not that I knew of anyway. And it was hard to smell anything with all the mustiness and dust.”

  That was true, which reminded him of just how bad things must have been for her at home to consider this a refuge.

  “How about the guy’s wedding ring?” Garrett asked. “Anything on that?”

  “Not yet,” Clay answered, and when Nicky made a sound of agreement, Garrett and Clay looked at her.

  “I did some internet searches,” she admitted. “I checked for anyone who might have posted anything about a ring like that on social media. Nothing.”

  “I put out some feelers, too,” Clay added. “There are no police reports that mention a ring fitting that description, and none of the jewelers in the area have any records of an engraving like that. I’ll do a wider sweep, though, because a jeweler could end up being our best bet. Especially since there are no missing person’s reports that match our John Doe.”

  Maybe that meant the guy was widowed and didn’t have any family. Garrett doubted it was a situation where he was on the run from the law because that didn’t explain the folded clothes. If a guy was going to hide out, he probably would have stayed dressed. But why place them under the chaise?

  “This house isn’t exactly on the beaten path,” Garrett went on. “Either he got here by way of the ranch trail or the pasture since there’s not an actual road.”

  Clay nodded. “That’s why I questioned your hands. Only one of them worked here during this time frame. Hester Walter. And he doesn’t know about a man visiting the place. He did say, though, that kids were always sneaking into the house and that you would camp out here sometimes.”

  Nicky looked at him, no doubt questioning why he would do that when he had a nice big house less than a half mile away, but since she knew his mother, and his situation, she probably understood.

  “I used to walk here from the house where I lived,” Nicky volunteered. “Maybe he parked a car somewhere in town or in the woods and made his way here on foot.”

  That was a good possibility, and Clay must have thought so, too, because he made a comment about doing a search of the area.

  “Yoo-hoo?” someone called out, and a couple of moments later, one of the widows came in. Not Lady, thank God. It was Gina.

  Except Garrett took back his “thank God” when the woman shot him what had to be a glare. Since she was Nicky’s friend, that likely meant she knew all about what had gone on between Nicky and him.

  “Is Kaylee with you?” Nicky immediately asked Gina.

  “No. She’s with Loretta. Loretta wanted to come herself, or rather she wanted to find out why the chief called you up here, but she said she wasn’t feeling up to being back in here just yet. Loretta’s trying not to let on that this dead guy thing is getting to her, but she’s muttering ‘oh, dear’ and ‘oh, my’ a lot.”

  Well, the woman had been the one to find the body. That was enough to shake anyone to the core.

  “Loretta might be too spooked to move in now,” Nicky commented.

  “I think she’ll be okay. We just need to keep her off kitchen duty. The sisters have volunteered for it anyway.”

  Gina went to the table, her gaze skirting over the evidence, and that gaze paus
ed a bit when it landed on Nicky’s necklace. She paused even more, though, when it landed on Nicky herself.

  “Uh, how much longer do you think you’ll be here?” Gina asked. “Because we need to go over the new bed assignments.”

  Nicky opened her mouth, and Garrett could have sworn she wanted to ask “what bed assignments?” because she certainly seemed surprised by that.

  “You can go,” Clay told Nicky. “But this will generate another report, and you’ll have to come in and sign it. That means you’ll have to explain in accurate detail how your necklace got here.”

  Great. Accurate was code for don’t fudge the truth, which meant Nicky’s de-virgining would now be part of an official police report. Garrett hoped like hell that none of the deputies would see it because they’d blab. Of course, most people in the town probably already knew, but it was a different thing to have it all spelled out for them.

  The moment Nicky moved to leave, Gina took hold of her arm and got her walking a lot faster than it seemed Nicky had planned. He didn’t know why Gina was acting like that, but something else had likely gone wrong. Garrett hoped there wasn’t another rash of clogged toilets.

  “Are you okay?” Clay asked.

  The question confused Garrett for a moment, and then he realized he was staring at Nicky as Gina led her away. “Fine.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Just distracted,” he settled for saying.

  The corner of Clay’s mouth twitched a little. “Your sister’s been distracting me like that since the day I met her.”

  Garrett frowned. “This is different.”

  “Yeah. Of course, it is.” And with that totally inaccurate, smart-ass comment, Clay smiled. “You’re free to go, too. I’ll call you when the new report is done.”

  Garrett nearly stayed back to tell Clay that there was nothing going on between Nicky and him. Nothing but some lingering lust anyway—Nicky was a still-grieving widow, and Garrett wasn’t anywhere near ready to get into a relationship. Maybe if he repeated that to himself enough, it would sink in.