The Cowboy Who Got Away

by Nancy Robards Thompson

  “How would you feel about opening a riding school as part of Triple C Ranch? I could put you on the payroll. I’ll make it worth your while if you’ll help out with the breeding arm of the business. I just had a foreman quit on me. I figure I might as well hire family rather than bring in someone else. The salary is not enough money to make you rich and the job won’t make you famous, but I figure I can afford to pay you in the 50K range. You could use the barn and riding ring east of the stables to get started and add equipment as you can afford it. With a steady job, you might even qualify for a business loan to help you get up to speed faster. The folks at the bank can help you with that. I hope this will make it possible for you to hang on to your land.”

  Jude’s body went numb. He had to give himself a mental shake. It was a generous offer. After the initial aversion to the idea of being confined to the sameness of a workaday job where he had to report to someone—even if that someone was his brother—he had to stop himself from asking, What’s the catch?

  With their dad there had always been a catch. Or hell to pay.

  But Ethan was not their dad.

  “You would do that for me?” Jude asked quietly.

  “Hell, yeah, I would. That’s what family is for. Jude, there’s no shame in asking for help. God knows I needed a lot of help when I went through my dark night.”

  “I wasn’t there for you when you were going through your crap.”

  “It’s okay. You’ve been battling your own demons. Consider this me paying it forward.”

  “You really are too good, aren’t you?” Jude said.

  “No. I’m not. Because I want something from you.”

  Ah, the catch.

  “What?”

  “I want you to lose the chip on your shoulder. I want you to stop pushing people away, acting like you’re alone in this world. Cut yourself a break and let me give you a hand up.” Ethan smiled, but there was an edge to the look in his eyes. It said even though he was being nice, he meant business. “Cut us all a damn break and get over yourself. If you let Juliette get away this time, you deserve to be miserable.”

  A dry hiccup of a laugh escaped from the back of Jude’s throat.

  “Well, there you go,” Jude said. “If your own brother can’t tell you to get over yourself, who can?”

  In his experience, family—his folks mostly—had never been there for him. His dad had made him feel like a burden and managed to turn everything into a battle of wits. His mom had been her husband’s subservient enabler, simply trying to preempt anything that might make her alcoholic husband explode.

  But since Ethan’s wedding, since reconnecting with him and talking to Lucy regularly via text and semiweekly phone calls, he could now see that his brother and sister—and Juliette—were all the family he’d ever needed.

  He’d allowed his animosity toward his father and the hurt Donovan Campbell had caused to keep him from home.

  He had been such a bastard.

  After he’d beaten up Jude over the mistake with the books, Jude had left. They’d never really talked again and three months later, his dad was dead.

  Before that, Jude had brought Glori home, which had been a mistake in itself. He had no business saying yes to the woman when she’d asked him to marry her. She had proposed and he’d wanted something—anything—to blunt the pain of losing Juliette.

  He’d called his mom to see if he could come by the house and introduce her, but his mom had said it was still too soon, his father was still simmering...or maybe she’d said it wasn’t a good time...or some other thinly veiled excuse. At the time, Jude had taken it personally, but now, all of a sudden, the slow dawning realization hit him that the alcohol had made his dad a ticking time bomb. Jude and all his bright shiny dreams—the very dreams that his father had never been able to achieve—had been the spark that had lit the fuse. His dad had died drunk behind the wheel and had essentially taken their mother with him. She’d survived the crash but had ended up a paraplegic and had died ten months later.

  His dad had died a disgrace. He’d killed himself before Jude had the chance to prove him wrong.

  And Jude still felt like he couldn’t measure up. That was some screwed-up thinking. If only it were easy to put it to rest.

  “I still have to go to this Expo in Las Vegas next week. I’m contractually bound by my Copenhagen contract. It’s my last obligation.”

  Ethan nodded. “Why don’t you take some time to think it over and if you want the job you can start when you get back from the Expo?”

  The thought of reporting to the same job, confined to the same place day in and day out, after having his freedom—reporting to no one but the folks at the rodeo check-in desk and the bull in the chute—made him chafe.

  Ethan would be his boss. Of course Jude would strive to do a good job and Ethan was not a hard-ass like their father...

  Even though Ethan’s offer made so much sense, would Jude really be able to settle down into so much normal? Or would he end up spontaneously combusting and ruining his relationships with Ethan, Lucy...and Juliette? The same way he and his father had torched their relationship?

  Maybe for the sake of preserving the relationships he’d forged with Ethan and Lucy, he’d do everyone a favor by competing one more year.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe I just bought your business.” In the elevator of the office of her attorney, Seth Ryan, Lucy clapped her hands like a child who had just discovered the prize at the bottom of the cereal box.

  Juliette looked at the check in her hand. She counted the zeros following the rather large prime number. “I can’t believe you just handed me a check for this much money. I can’t believe you had the savings for this much money. This is insane.”

  It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Juliette knew the wedding business was lucrative. She tucked the check into her purse and the two women walked arm in arm out of the lobby onto Main Street.

  “I know you have plans with my brother tonight,” Lucy said. “But let’s go get a glass of champagne to celebrate. Tori and Chelsea want us to meet them at the bar at Café St. Germaine.”

  Juliette’s insides took a long, slow roll at the mention of Jude. She hated herself for it. He was leaving. He may not know it yet, but Juliette could see the warning signs. If she could be any more invested than she already was, she needed to protect her heart. It had become crystal clear last night at the parade. By this point, if Jude couldn’t say he was staying, there was a very good chance he was leaving. And she would not follow him. She wished he hadn’t even brought up Tony Darcy’s invitation to be the advisor for the rodeo club while he was out on family leave.

  The sisters were waiting at a high table in the bar with an iced bottle of Veuve Clicquot and a glass of sparkling cider for Lucy since the expectant mother wasn’t drinking alcohol.

  They looked stunning—Tori in a black-and-white shift dress with opaque black tights and ankle boots; Chelsea in an orange-and-pink tunic with leggings and boots. Their outfits were from Tori’s latest collection. When Chelsea and Juliette had been in college, Tori had let them borrow liberally from her samples. Since they were sample sizes, it gave Juliette plenty of inspiration to stay fit. Lucky for her, Tori’s signature style flattered curvy girls.

  “Is it done?” Chelsea asked.

  “It’s done!” Lucy and Juliette said in unison.

  It seemed surreal to think that she had just divested herself of what had been her entire post-college life. Of course, that meant Tabatha was part of the bargain, too. Lucy would inherit the queen of the bridezillas. But Juliette didn’t have the heart to simply throw Lucy to the wolves, even though Lucy had dealt with her share of bridezillas. Ah, well, they still had a couple of weeks before Tabatha’s wedding. In the meantime, Juliette decided she would try to relax a little and figure out
what was next.

  Tori poured the champagne and the Ashford Alden sisters raised their glasses in a toast to the newly minted transaction.

  “This one is for Juliette,” said Chelsea. “To happiness and good health, and good riddance to bridezillas.”

  “And one for Lucy,” echoed Tori. “May you keep the bridezillas on a tight leash and live happily ever after.”

  They all laughed.

  “The only thing standing between my eternal happiness is a trip to the ladies’ room,” said Lucy. “Why did no one warn me that pregnancy shrinks your bladder? Would anyone care to come along?”

  “I will,” said Chelsea.

  The two were off, leaving Tori and Juliette alone with the champagne.

  “So, tell me, Jules—you’re really and truly unencumbered these days? No job? No Jude?”

  Juliette’s stomach did that clinch-roll thing again. It felt like taking a drop on a kiddie roller coaster. Only this was not child’s play. She needed to shore up her defenses.

  But she couldn’t help wondering how Tori knew that there was no Jude. Or better yet, what intel Tori might have overheard at the Campbell dinner table to make her so sure Jude wasn’t in the picture. Maybe Jude had finally made a decision.

  “No job. The only man in my life is my corgi, Franklin. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I’d like to offer you a job. How would you feel about moving to London and heading up the brand-new bridal division of Tori Ashford Alden Designs? With your knowledge of the American bridal industry and your eye for design, you are just the person I’ve been looking for.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He’d talked about himself too much last night. Tonight would be fun, Jude vowed as he traversed Juliette’s porch steps, a corsage of white tea roses in hand.

  Nothing heavy.

  Nothing about Ethan’s offer and his own trepidations.

  Tonight would be about them.

  He had bought a brand-new pair of dark blue jeans and a white shirt. But at the last minute, he had scrapped the jeans for the khakis that he’d worn the other night. He’d paired them with a suit jacket and blue tie since Juliette had mentioned that her dress would be blue. He wanted her to see that he had made an effort. He had. And it had been for her. Getting dressed up like this had never been his gig. She knew him well enough to know that.

  He knocked on the door and waited for her to answer, feeling as nervous as if this was their first date. In some ways it was, because he wanted a clean slate, wanted to reset the relationship and start over.

  She took his breath away when she answered the door. “Hi,” she said. Her eyes widened. “Look at you. You clean up nicely.”

  Juliette was one of those women who was equally comfortable in blue jeans and fussy formalwear. Still, he couldn’t remember her ever looking more beautiful than she did tonight.

  She’d twisted her hair up off her shoulders so that it framed her gorgeous face. She was wearing a blue cocktail dress that showed off her curves and tempted him to reach in and pull her to him.

  But he didn’t.

  Instead, he focused on the sexy, strappy silver sandals she wore and how they elongated her tanned legs. They made her stand nearly at eye level with him. For a moment he was rendered speechless.

  “Hey,” he finally said.

  “Ready to go?” she asked.

  As she pulled the door shut, he noticed that she had her purse, an evening wrap and a small white box at the ready. No need for them to go inside. He held up the medium-size box that contained her corsage.

  “I brought you this.” He opened the plastic box and took out the flowers. They were on an elastic band so she could slip them on her wrist. When he’d taken her to the dances in high school, he’d always gotten the kind of flower that was pinned on the dress, but the florist had suggested that a corsage worn on the wrist might be more practical. Since he planned to hold her close when they danced, she was probably right. This way he wouldn’t crush her flowers.

  “It’s beautiful, Jude. Thank you.”

  She opened the small white box and took out a single white rosebud. It was similar to her corsage. His first thought was great minds. But then he realized that the florist had probably clued her into the color and type of flower of the corsage he had ordered for her.

  It was nice how they matched. It looked like they belonged together.

  After she pinned the boutonniere onto his lapel, he offered her his arm and they made their way to the truck. After he’d left Ethan, he’d washed the truck and cleaned up the inside. He opened the door and helped her into the cab. He wasn’t a fancy person. In fact, beyond their dinner date the other night, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten dressed up. Their high school graduation, maybe? No. He’d worn jeans and boots under his graduation gown. Maybe it had been their prom? Whatever the occasion, Juliette had undoubtedly been there.

  It was a short drive to the Campbell Wedding Barn. Even though the drive had been mostly silent, they arrived before the silence could get awkward.

  Jude parked. He was glad that she waited for him to walk around and open her door and help her out. It made it seem more like a date—that even though things might have been a little strained these past couple of days, they enjoyed each other’s company and wanted to be together, rather than simply going to the dance together because being together was an old habit that neither of them had really and truly kicked. The truth was he did want to be with her.

  Could he ever get to the point where his need to be with her outweighed his need to prove his father wrong? Or maybe he was trying to prove himself wrong?

  He wasn’t going to ruin the night by being in his head too much.

  As they walked up the mulch path from the gravel parking lot to the barn, it dawned on him that maybe this battle he’d been waging had only been against himself. Maybe it was time to make peace with himself.

  He put his hand on the small of Juliette’s back as they approached the barn. When they entered, they were greeted by festive music played by a live band, the aroma of steaks grilling somewhere outside the open side doors and the chatter of people who were already having a great time.

  After the football game, he had helped with the decorating—mostly moving heavy objects like tables and chairs. He’d signed up to help, but when he’d turned up, he’d had ulterior motives, hoping to find Juliette there, but she’d been conspicuously absent.

  Someone had done a whole lot more to the place, stringing market lights and small white twinkle lights across the room, setting up round tables with white tablecloths, candles and centerpieces, and adding strategically placed up-lighting around the space. The barn looked less like a barn and more like a rustic, urban restaurant. Like something you might find in Houston or Dallas rather than in the small town of Celebration.

  “It looks so nice in here,” Juliette said. “I helped out before the parade yesterday, and it was taking shape, but it didn’t look anywhere near this good. Somebody obviously went above and beyond.”

  “That would be me,” said Marcy, who had appeared out of nowhere.

  Of course it was. Did the woman sleep?

  “The place looks great, Marcy,” said Juliette. “Thanks for all your hard work. I hope there’s no hard feelings over the talent show.”

  Marcy’s toothy smile was as forced as a bad sitcom conflict. “Yes, well, I suppose everything worked out for the best. We wouldn’t want to force anyone to do anything she didn’t want to do, would we? Did you say you helped decorate yesterday? I didn’t see you here.”

  “Yes, I was here before the parade.”

  Marcy looked at her dubiously. “Huh. I was here then. I must’ve missed you.”

  She turned to Jude. “I definitely saw you here after the game. I don’t know what we would’
ve done without your strong muscles, moving all those chairs and tables. Thanks so much for your help.”

  The shift in Marcy’s demeanor when she spoke to him was vast and a little embarrassing. He’d only hefted some things around. It wasn’t as if he had come up with the decorating scheme—or even implemented it.

  “Save me a dance, Jude.” It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

  What happened to not forcing anyone to do anything they didn’t want to do?

  Marcy flagged down someone else, breaking into a cheerleader squee and hugging a woman he didn’t recognize.

  “This might be a very long night,” said Juliette.

  “Not if I have anything to say about it. I didn’t put on khakis and a tie to have a bad time.” He flashed her his most winning smile. “You just wait.”

  She laughed. For the first time that night she seemed more herself.

  A few steps inside the door was a table with name tags that had their yearbook pictures on them. They waited in line behind several people who stopped to laugh at their own photos and poke fun at their friends’ pictures.

  “No one can accuse us of being a stylish group, can they?” he said as he and Juliette waited their turn.

  “Oh, I don’t know, we thought we were pretty snazzy back in the day. That was the era of headbands, baby doll dresses and low-slung jeans with midriffs.”

  “How could I forget the low-slung jeans and midriffs?” he said. “All I remember is that you always looked mighty fine. You were the exception to the unstylish rule.”

  “There you go with the flattery again.”

  When they finally made it to the table, they had just grabbed their own name tags when Lucy appeared next to them. “Hey, you guys. I’m so glad I found you. You two look cute. Here, let me take your picture. I promised Chelsea I would snap some shots because knowing you two, you’d forget. Stand right over there.”

  They cleared the name tag table so they wouldn’t hold up the line and keep others from picking up theirs. God knew it was moving slowly enough just with the people stopping to gawk at the pictures.