Kissed by a Cowboy 1 & 2: Sweet Cowboy Romance (Redbud Trails)

by Lacy Williams

  "She also needs new school clothes and a roof over her head," he muttered.

  They meandered toward the stands, not in any hurry, finally stopping behind them, in the small patch of shadow. On the other side of the bleachers, the arena lights lit everything, but here it was dark.

  "Justin said you might have a lead on a job with Livy's school. Coaching football and teaching a little."

  "So y'all have been talking about me?"

  "He mentioned it."

  Maddox blew out a breath. She couldn't tell if he was frustrated that she'd been in his business or frustrated about the job. "I can't take that job," he said, the anger evident, though she didn't understand it.

  "Why not?" She was angry, too, though not for herself. She was trying not to feel anything for herself—the last few minutes had shattered her hopes for anything with him. But Livy needed him. "You'd have more time for Livy, all summer off—"

  "I'd still have a farm to manage, but that's not the point. I can't take that job."

  "If it's about being on the sidelines—"

  "It's not," he said, and his voice rang with hurt.

  "About expectations?"

  He laughed, a harsh sound.

  "You want the truth?" he asked roughly.

  The words hit her like a strong gust of wind. She felt like she was on her toes, almost lifting off her feet.

  She reached out and touched his arm. "Maddox..."

  He didn't turn toward her. He just stared into the shadows beneath the bleachers.

  Twilight had gone and darkness had fallen. She could barely see him in the dim light that seeped from the arena.

  "The truth is, everyone around here thinks I finished my degree, but I'm a year short. The only reason the principal offered me that job is he thinks I've got a piece of paper with my name on it. But I don't."

  She knew about a man's pride. Her own father had chased jobs across the nation, wanting to provide for his girl. She could only imagine how having to admit something like this was hitting Maddox.

  "Without a college education, jobs like working on the harvest crew are all I've got. With Justin out of commission and medical bills piling up...if the price of cattle falls any more, we'll be butchering our own. Working is all I know how to do. It's all I'm good for."

  She grabbed his arm and yanked until he rounded on her.

  She looked up at him with all the love swelling in her heart and into her throat, making it impossible to speak. She swallowed and forced the words out.

  "No, it's not," she whispered. "No, it's not."

  She slid her hands behind his neck and tugged him down toward her.

  He seemed to understand. His lips slanted over hers, his hands slipped around her waist, and if he held her just a little too tightly, well, that was okay with her.

  A loudspeaker squealed, breaking the moment. She backed away a step, touched her lips with a trembling hand. A disembodied voice announced the start of the bull riding.

  Looking down, she saw both of their hats had fallen into the dust.

  She bent to pick them up and offered his to him. He took it, but she didn't let go. Their eyes met and connected over the top.

  "I don't know what's gonna happen," he said in a low voice.

  Neither did she. She didn't know how long Aunt Matilda would hold on, or how Livy's ice cream business would do.

  Or if she'd walk away at the end of all of this with her heart intact.

  But she couldn't walk away from Maddox right now.

  She entwined her fingers with his and tugged him back up into the stands.

  Chapter 8

  It was over.

  Aunt Matilda was gone.

  Haley sat through the funeral on the first pew in the little country church. Numb.

  She and her aunt had made most of the arrangements in advance, so there had only been a few things to take care of, although she'd spent the last two days in a sea of paperwork, insurance claims, and lawyers.

  How could it be that Haley would never see Aunt Matilda again? That her closest family member was lost to her?

  Tears spilled over again, and Haley bowed her head, covered her face with her hands, and let them come.

  She missed her. If only she'd made more time to come home since she'd left for college.

  She'd always thought there's time.

  And now, there was no time left.

  A warm, wide hand rested on the center of her back. Maddox.

  They were seated so close, she could feel the heat of his thigh next to hers. He'd been a steady presence the last couple of days. Bringing her food when she'd forgotten to eat. Answering the door to the church ladies when Haley couldn't face their kindness for her grief. He'd answered his phone in the wee hours when she couldn't sleep.

  Olivia and Justin had been in and out, tiptoeing around and whispering like she was fine china. But this wasn't going to break her.

  If she'd learned anything this summer, it was that cowgirls got back up after they got bucked off. And they didn't let go of what was important.

  She was in love with Maddox.

  She hadn't figured out how she was going to make it work between them. She had a job, back in Oklahoma City. Her boss had granted her another few days of leave to wrap things up, but he expected her back soon.

  And Maddox was very firmly entrenched in Redbud Trails. He wasn't letting go of the farm without a fight. And he shouldn't. It was their family legacy, the place where Katie had grown up and Olivia could connect with her mother.

  Everything was a muddle.

  But today, all Haley could do was grieve. With Maddox beside her, holding her up, she could let Aunt Matilda go.

  She would wait for a chance to talk to Maddox later.

  A week later, Haley was still waiting.

  Maddox had had to leave for the harvest crew the day after the funeral. The four-day separation had distanced them. He'd come home quieter, more reserved. She didn't know how to get their closeness back.

  This morning, he'd come to help her load her car. It hadn't taken long, and now as he stowed the last of her boxes in the trunk, she stood in the empty dining room.

  Out the window, a For Sale sign out front was the tangible sign that nothing would ever be the same.

  She hesitated inside the front door, looking at Maddox's broad shoulders as he waited by her car.

  What if... what if she'd been wrong about his feelings? For several days, she'd been mired in grief. All the insurance paperwork had kept her busy, slightly on edge, and frustrated.

  And now Maddox was back, and that insidious voice in her head—a voice that sounded remarkably like Paul's—kept reminding her that she wasn't enough. She had never been enough to keep her father from chasing the next best job. Paul had found her wanting—criticizing her because she wasn't outgoing enough, telling her she needed to be a perfect hostess when they eventually got married.

  What if...what if Maddox found her wanting as well?

  Steeling herself with a deep breath, she stepped outside her aunt's door, trying not to think about how it was the last time she would, and locked it behind her.

  His hands rested casually in his front pockets. His Stetson threw a shadow over his eyes, and she couldn't read them. His body language was casual, friendly.

  But not welcoming.

  She stopped several feet away, keys jangling in her nerveless fingers.

  "Well, that's it," she said on an exhale.

  If he would just give her an indication that he felt the same way he had when he'd kissed her before, at the rodeo...

  But he only nodded, unsmiling.

  "I'm not ready," she said softly. "To say goodbye." To the house, to her aunt's memory.

  But especially to him.

  Maddox fisted his hands in his jeans pockets, the muscles in his arms aching from wanting to reach for her.

  He kept his jaw clenched to hold back the tide. Words like, please don't leave me. Words like, I love you.


  She deserved better than a cowboy who was fighting for every paycheck.

  His dad had given up, failed the family, nearly lost the farm.

  But Maddox refused to do the same. Even if he was one overdue mortgage payment away from losing the place, he couldn't give up.

  And that meant a lot of hard work.

  How could he commit to—how could he ask Haley to commit to—a long-distance relationship when he knew he couldn't commit to it himself? He couldn't. His focus had to be on keeping his family afloat.

  He'd watched his mother get beaten down by life and a husband who'd ultimately failed the family. He couldn't ask Haley to do the same.

  Or worse, start a relationship with her and a year down the road, have her decide to ditch the loser who was still working his butt off for a chunk of land.

  He'd die if she walked away from him. He felt about like he was dying now. Like a big ol' bull had stepped on his chest cavity.

  The best he could hope for was in a few months to have made some good money, put another nest egg aside, and when he'd proved he could support his family, call her. With any luck, she wouldn't fall in love with someone else.

  All those words settled in his heart, tucked away. "Drive safe." He didn't add, call me when you get there or I'll miss you.

  He couldn't bear the uncertainty in her eyes, so he turned away, yanking open her car door. She slipped under his arm, silent. Watchful. Waiting.

  But he couldn't give her what she needed, so he said nothing.

  And she started the car and drove away.

  Chapter 9

  "Hello?"

  "Is this Maddox Michaels?"

  "Speaking. Who's this?"

  "Dan Crane."

  Hearing the junior high principal's voice on the phone pulled Maddox up short. He was on a three-day weekend back from the harvest crew, driving to town to make Olivia's weekly ice cream delivery to the restaurant that acted as a consignment agent for her, but now he stopped his truck on the side of the state highway.

  "Dan. I've been meaning to return your calls."

  He took a deep breath and decided to come clean.

  "Actually, I haven't," he said. "Been meaning to call."

  "Look, Maddox, we need you. There's no one else around qualified to coach—"

  "I'm not qualified to teach," he said. And that shut the other man up. "I never finished my degree. I was a year short. I let everybody around here think I was done because I was too chicken to admit I was so much like my father."

  His free hand clenched the bottom of the steering wheel.

  There was a beat of silence before Dan spoke. "I wish I'd known this sooner."

  Yeah. No kidding.

  More silence and Maddox wanted to get out of the uncomfortable conversation. "I'll let you go—"

  "Hang on a minute, Michaels. I'm thinking. You know, if we can get you enrolled..."

  "What?"

  While Maddox listened in shock, the other man outlined a plan for Maddox to finish his degree and get certified to teach—by Christmastime.

  He wasn't even sure what he'd agreed to by the time the call ended twenty minutes later, but he did know that in one phone conversation, hope had come back to him.

  But having a job didn't make up for losing Haley.

  Every time he breathed in deeply, it felt like knives slicing through his lungs. He missed her so much.

  It had been almost three weeks, and he'd heard nothing. Not that he'd expected to—he'd made his wishes clear that last day. But now, he was dying inside, a little each day.

  He was still mulling the new job offer over when he got home with the boxed meal the restaurant manager had pushed on him.

  Only to find Justin on his feet, wrestling with the old brown recliner.

  "What're you doing?" Maddox dumped the food on the kitchen table and rushed to take the weight of the chair. Last thing Justin needed was for that chair to topple over and land on his only remaining good leg.

  "I got to thinking," Justin said, huffing. "That it's time to get rid of this old thing."

  Their eyes met over the top of the stinky chair.

  He knew what Justin was saying. More than the recliner, it was time to let the past go.

  His dad had sat in the chair and drunk himself to death. Maddox barely had any good memories of the man.

  Ma had sat in this chair, swallowed by her grief. After she'd lost Katie, she'd lost herself.

  Justin had almost done the same. His injury had made him give up on life.

  But if he was man enough to get out of the chair, he was on the road to total recovery. His hip might not be fully functional, and he might always have a limp, but he could move on.

  Maddox felt a hot burn behind his eyes. He cleared his throat. "I'm proud of you."

  "Yeah, yeah." Justin leaned down to pick up the crutch he'd laid across the fireplace hearth. "After you take that out to the dump, you need to get in your truck and head to Oklahoma City."

  Maddox grunted. He angled the chair toward the door, eyeing the frame. The chair wasn't going to fit upright.

  "I'm not kidding," Justin said. "You can't just let a girl like Haley get away."

  Maddox pushed the chair across the floor. It hung up on a patch of old carpet and he almost fell over the top of it, getting a good wallop in the stomach when it rebounded.

  "Mad. I'm serious."

  "She's the one who left," he huffed. She'd left him behind. Again.

  "And you've been moping around here for three weeks. You've got two feet and a truck. So go get her and bring her back."

  His heart panged once, hard. "It's not that easy. I've got a lead on a job, but I've got to prove myself—"

  "Prove what?" Justin demanded. "Prove that you're just as much of an idiot as our father? She's in love with you—if you haven't messed that up. She'll stand by you."

  He wanted to believe...wanted to believe it so badly.

  Maddox's heart thudded in his chest. "I've been pretty stupid."

  "No kidding. What else is new? But she fell in love with you knowing that football players have a couple screws loose, so this little act of stupidity probably hasn't surprised her much."

  Could he really take Justin's advice?

  What if she couldn't forgive him for breaking her heart?

  Worse than that, what if he never tried to put it back together?

  Haley had settled into her normal routine.

  Sort of.

  She went to work. And stared at her computer screen all day. She wasn't getting a lot done.

  She came home. And tried not to stare at her phone, willing Maddox to call.

  She'd called his house and spoken to Livy several times, checking on the business, checking on the girl.

  She'd shied away from asking about Maddox. When Livy had offered tidbits like he liked the root beer float flavor, Haley had mm-hmmed and moved on.

  What was wrong with her?

  She had a car. Gas. Keys. She could drive back to Redbud Trails any time. She wanted to take the man by the shoulders and shake him. Or maybe kiss him.

  She didn't know what she'd been thinking that last day. Maybe she'd let her grief blind her, or her fear.

  She knew there was something between her and Maddox. It had been too strong to deny, and too strong to fade away.

  She'd talked herself into a weekend trip and had her keys dangling from her fingers when she exited her front door. And stopped short.

  There was a big, dusty truck in her driveway.

  She barely registered the truck before a tall, dusty cowboy stood in her way, too.

  She threw herself at him. And he caught her.

  "What took you so long?" she mumbled into his shoulder.

  He rumbled a laugh. "Sorry." She felt the press of his chin in her hair. "It took this big, dumb Ox a little bit to get things figured out."

  She tilted her chin back and squinted up at him. "Don't call yourself dumb."

  He used the opportunity t
o rub his thumb along the line of her jaw.

  "So what did you figure out?" she whispered.

  "Well, the financial situation is still a little sticky," he said. "But mostly, I realized that I was focusing on the wrong things, like your dad did."

  He brushed a kiss across her temple.

  "And letting the best thing in my life get away, kind of like my dad did."

  Now he brushed a kiss across her cheek.

  "And I don't want to be like either of them."

  "You're not—" she started to say.

  And he sure kissed her like he agreed.

  When they broke away minutes later, both panting and out-of-breath, he noticed the keys dangling from her hand. "Going somewhere?"

  "I was on my way to Redbud Trails." She couldn't help the shy smile. "You're not the only one who was being less-smart than they should be." She looked down briefly but then back up at him, his overwhelming presence—and his kisses—giving her courage. "I shouldn't have left without telling you I was in love with you."

  He lit up from the inside out.

  "And not because of your bank account," she went on. "Or your farm."

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  "It's definitely because of your niece's ice cream." She stood on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss against his lips. "I want a piece of the business."

  He leaned down and kissed her beneath her jaw. "You already own a piece of it."

  "Hmm." She giggled and tucked her chin down when his hot breath tickled her neck. "I guess it must be something else, then."

  She pushed on his shoulders until he was far enough away that she could see his face. "It's because of who you are. The man who wouldn't give up on his brother. Who redid the kitchen to make a little girl's dream come true."

  The quiet joy on his face made the heartfelt confession easy.

  "Wanna know why I'm in love with you?" he asked.

  Her heart soared up into her throat, and she nodded.

  He cupped her jaw in one hand. "Same reason. Because of who you are. Your quiet spirit and gentle heart that saw my niece's needs and found a way to meet them. You reached out to Justin when the rest of the outside world forgot him and gave him the courage to go on." He swallowed hard. "And you found a way inside my heart when I thought it was too full of worrying about everything else." His expression darkened. "I don't know how everything's going to work out."