“No more!” I growled. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again. I refused to lick up scraps guys like Gary threw at me.
As the sun came up, I put on my gaggy polyester uniform and headed to the job I loathed. Six hours later, after clocking out, I drove my Fiat hatchback across town. My chest tightened the closer I got to Gary’s hotel, but I couldn’t turn back.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I texted him that I was there. Seconds later, he sent me a winky face emoticon with his reply: Come on up, baby. I’ll show you my room.
I was certain it was posh and swanky, but I wasn’t going near it. No, thanks. Meet me in the lobby.
It took the vain man ten minutes to show his face. I smirked at his horrified expression when he spotted me in all my Hot Dog on a Stick glory. My colorful striped shirt would never win a prize in a cool contest, and Gary was all about appearance.
“Elle,” he hissed as he clamped onto my arm and practically dragged me into an adjoining hallway void of spectators. “What are you doing here in that…monstrosity?”
It was hard not to laugh. I’d purposely not changed out of my gaudy uniform in order to see his reaction. “I just came from work. Sorry. I probably smell like mustard.”
He winced and let go of me. “You didn’t tell me you worked fast food.”
“Yeah, it’s great,” I lied. “I make eight bucks an hour and get Sundays off.”
His sneer was very revealing.
“Hey, I wanted to give this back.” I pulled the diamond necklace he’d given me out of my purse and held it out to him. “I’m thinking we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
“Yeah.” He slipped the expensive gift into his pocket. “That’s probably for the best.” His judgmental gaze dismissed me. “Long-distance relationships rarely work.”
Thank goodness for that…and thank goodness for my striped uniform that had definitely made this whole breakup super easy. I’d have to remember that in the future.
After he left, I drove to a truck stop to change into jeans and an old t-shirt. Then I drove to the edge of town and hopped out of my car. The smell of freshly turned hay, manure, and dust made me sigh. Throwing my hands out to the side, I twirled and wondered why I’d avoided this place for so long. This was heaven.
Walking through the gate, I followed the rhythmic sound of hoofs to the arena. There I saw my dear mentor, Viktorya, putting a beautiful Paint through his paces. I leaned over the railing and became lost in the beauty of horse and rider becoming one. When she noticed me, she trotted over and dismounted. Pulling off her helmet, she shook out her dyed red hair.
“Liz? Is that you?”
I felt self-conscious standing before her in my beggar shoes. “It’s me.”
“How many years has it been?” She tethered her horse.
“Two.”
She surprised me by pulling me into a smothering hug. “I’ve worried so much about you ever since I read that your father died. I tried calling, but you must have changed numbers. I haven’t known how to reach you.” When she released me, her hands cradled my cheeks. “How are you?”
Her concern was my undoing. I lowered my head and began to bawl as the heartache of the past year rushed out. Why had I cut this dear woman out of my life? She’d been like a mother to me—at least a mother who cared.
When I reined in the waterfest, I sniffed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re my daughter, no? If you feel like crying, you cry.” She gestured to her house. “Should we go in and feed you? You look hungry?”
I shook my head. Vikky had always felt I looked underfed. “I came to hang out with the horses. Can I feed them or exercise them for you?”
Her brown eyes glistened in the harsh desert sun. “Have you been with horses at all since you returned from Montana?”
I shook my head.
“I’m glad you came then.”
“I’ve been living with Mom since October.”
She pulled me into her arms. “You poor girl.” Just having her hold me felt therapeutic.
“It’s been difficult. Since Dad died, she’s become unbalanced.”
She muttered something not very kind in Russian.
“I’ve been feeling burnt-out.” I bit my lip. “That’s why I’m here. I need horses. They understand me…and I get them.”
“And it gives you a break from that witchy woman, no?”
I laughed. It might have been the first time I’d laughed in months.
Vikky patted my cheeks. “I’d love to have you around again.” She stepped back and eyed me. “Womanhood agrees with you. You are krasavitsa. Beautiful, no?”
Was it no wonder I loved this woman? As we led the Paint to the stable, Vikky kept prying information from me.
“Tell me about your love life. Is there a special man?”
“Thank goodness, no.”
“What? No hunky hero to sweep you off your feet? How’s that possible?”
“I was seeing a guy, but he was part of the problem.” I grimaced. “I broke up with him on the way here. I don’t care how many dinners or necklaces a man buys me, he doesn’t own me.”
“Amen, sistah.”
I giggled. Whenever Vikky tried to sound hip, she came off sounding stiff and superior.
“Your hero will come along someday.”
Inhaling the scent of the stable, I smiled. I hadn’t even worked with the horses, yet I felt peace. “I don’t need a man to make me happy. Just getting away from Mommy Dearest does that.”
We both snorted. It was cleansing. I meant no disrespect with my words; they were simply the truth. My mother seemed to hate me. I knew her mental disorder was partly, or even mostly, to blame, but it still hurt being on the receiving end of her spite.
Time passed like a snap of my fingers as I helped Viktorya and reintroduced myself to her horses. After the sun set, I wrapped her in another hug. “Thank you.”
“Come back as often as you like.”
“I will.”
It’d been a day full of happiness and wonder. I would definitely return as soon as I could get away again. My sanity depended on it.
Chapter 89
Rawson
As I crested the rise and saw Vegas sprawled out before me, I couldn’t help but think of Lizzie. This had been her home. Did she still have family somewhere in this vast desert metropolis. I hoped so. I needed answers to her whereabouts. Even after searching the internet and calling Viktorya, I’d gotten nowhere. But Viktorya had informed me that the man I thought might be Lizzie’s uncle was actually her father. Belle was her middle name, and had somehow been typed into the obituary instead of Elizabeth.
Viktorya needed new stock, so I offered to drive down after calving season to bring her some horses. I hoped to find more leads while I was down there. When Dad found out I was going, he booked visits to Temeculah and Phoenix to sell some quarter horses and buy some foals from a champion racer. Now, after eight days on the road, I’d made it…well, almost. I still needed to maneuver my truck and trailer down I-15 in rush hour traffic. In this city, rush hour seemed to last twenty-four hours. Made me grateful to live in Montana.
After I merged onto I-95 North, I relaxed my grip on the wheel. Exiting the freeway on the outskirts of town, I worked my way to the Lohman’s neighborhood and parked on the side closest to the stables. As I walked past the trailer, I spoke to the horses eyeing me out their windows.
“Hold onto your saddles. I’ll get you out in a few minutes.”
Entering through the back gate, I headed to the ranch-style house and knocked. Viktorya’s husband answered.
“Hey, Rawson, how was the drive?” Mr. Lohman patted my shoulder. “It was good of you to make this trip. I’m much obliged.”
“No problem.” I glanced around at the southwest decor. “Your wife around?”
“She had to run to the feed store for some grain. I’m sure she’ll be back any time.”
I checked my watch. “Sorry I’m late. I got cau
ght in traffic. Do you mind if I start unloading?”
“Go ahead.”
Leaving him, I threw down the ramp and led horses one by one into empty pens. Viktorya pulled up behind me as I led the last horse down the ramp.
“Is that one of mine?” she called as she stepped out of her Dodge truck. We’d never seen eye to eye on vehicles.
“Yep. Isn’t he a beaut?”
“I’ll say.” She took the rope from me and started cooing as she petted the gray. “Do you think he’ll go white or flea-bitten?”
“Both parents are pure white.”
She led him to a stall. “Good.”
Anticipating her next question, I said, “He turned two and is saddle broke. I figured you’d want ’em young enough to train to walk like ballerinas.” She knew my feelings on English style. I was a Western man.
“You figured right.” She led the gray into a stall as I returned to my truck.
As I locked the trailer, I heard a sweet voice from the past.
“Hey, Vikky, I’m here!”
I stiffened. Looking past Viktorya who stood in the shade of a mulberry tree, I caught a glimpse of a willowy form waving as she disappeared inside the stable.
I sprinted to Viktorya’s side. “You told me you didn’t know where she was.”
She gave me a mischievous smile. “I didn’t. Liz showed up four days ago, begging to help in her free time. The poor girl’s been stuck with her wicked witch mother since her dad died.”
My heart thudded against my chest. I wanted to run into the stable and scream Lizzie’s name, but a quick glance at myself made me wince. I resembled Pigpen from the Peanuts cartoon. Dust coated my jeans and I’d spilled Pepsi down my shirt when someone cut me off coming up Cajon Pass.
“What do I do? I have to see her, but I’m a mess.”
“Calm down, Cassanova.” She squeezed my arm. “Grab a change of clothes and clean up in the guest bathroom next to the kitchen.”
I retrieved my duffel bag from my truck. “Don’t let her leave. I have to talk to her.”
“Lizzie’s here ’til dark, cowboy. Now shoo. I’ll keep her in the stable so you can make a grand entrance, no?” She laughed
I scrambled around the gate and into the house, baffled at how fate had brought us together…well, almost. I needed to clean up first so I didn’t repel her. After changing, I washed my hair under the sink and splashed cologne on. Heading to the stable, I wondered how to make a grand entrance. Should I strut in all cowboy and act as though I hadn’t seen her? Or should I yell her name and run to her like I wanted? Would that appear desperate?
As I spotted Lizzie at the end of the aisle with Viktorya, I had to make an effort to breathe. She was so beautiful with her curly hair all pulled back in a ponytail. I’d always teased her about those, but they’d grown on me. Not watching where I was going, my foot hit something with substance…something that moved and yelped. Stumbling, I lost my balance and planted face first into sawdust. A mutt dog streaked past my head as I spit out muck and looked up at the woman I’d never stopped loving. So much for my grand entrance.
Lizzie’s mouth hung open. “Rawson Law?”
I scrambled to my feet and brushed dust from my clothes. “The one and only,” I muttered.
A high-pitched squeal split the air as she ran over to hug me. I was so thoroughly surprised that I pulled a Mackay and let my arms dangle at my side. Never had I imagined a positive reaction from her. She’d been so devastated when she left me at the airport last summer.
She pulled away and blushed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Viktorya elbowed me. “I’m going in. You two feel free to ride horses…or go somewhere dark and private, no?” She winked.
I watched Lizzie bite her lip and squirm. Clearly, she didn’t feel comfortable with Viktorya’s teasing.
“Uh, do you want to see my new foals?” I asked to break the awkwardness Vikky left in her wake.
“I’d love to.”
Feeling giddy as a high school kid on a first date, I gestured for her to follow and walked behind the stable where Viktorya had let me turn the two foals I’d purchased out to graze. Entering the paddock, I swallowed hard to moisten my throat. I felt more nervous than a hen in a fox hole.
“I bought him in Temeculah. His pedigree’s faultless.”
Liz put her hand on the young bay’s neck and closed her eyes. As the foal nibbled at her shirt, she rubbed him and talked in her sweet voice horses loved—that I loved.
“He’s beautiful.”
“Yeah.” She was.
“Do you want to ride?”
“Yeah.” She must think me the king of idiots with my one word responses, but it was all I could manage with my tongue-tied mouth.
She led me to the tack room where I saddled a large black that reminded me of Goliath. “That’s Bo Jangles,” she said as she led a bay roan out and started loving on him. “And this is Strawberry Patches. I call him Patches to make him feel manly.”
I chuckled as I tightened straps. “I’m sure he appreciates that.”
She walked away without saddling her horse. I marched out after her. In the arena, she grabbed hold of the mane and swung herself onto Patches’ back. I’d seen her do it before at the ranch, but had never gotten over the surprise. Lizzie was so delicate; the horses so massive. Yet she could jump, pull, and swing all in one flowing motion and be on the back of the mighty creature as I sat with my mouth gaping open wondering how she’d done it.
Liz sank onto the gelding’s back, her head cradled into its neck with a contented smile. As her boot dug into his side, Patches took off. She clung to his mane as she guided him around the arena with her fingers along his ears—a trick of hers I’d never been able to duplicate.
I climbed onto Bo Jangles and trotted after her. “You sure you don’t want a saddle?” I asked.
“I haven’t been on a horse since I left Montana. I’m kind of enjoying riding bareback.”
I had to admit, she was breathtaking all molded into the roan’s body. After several laps around the arena, we walked our mounts.
“Could I take you to dinner?”
Her expressive brown eyes widened. “Do you want to?”
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”
“You must really be hungry.”
I stifled a grin. “You could say that.”
We looked at each other, trying to read almost a year’s worth of emotion in each other’s eyes. Patches bit Bo’s neck, breaking the spell. I slid off my horse and led him to his stall. We untacked and brushed our mounts before Liz headed to a Fiat that’d seen better days.
“I’ll drive so we don’t have to unhitch your trailer.”
She drove us to a Wendy’s. When I’d asked her to dinner, I planned on somewhere fancy and quiet, not fast and easy. But with her driving, I’d lost my man card. Trying to earn it back, I touched her hand as she ejected her keys.
“Let me get your door.”
I stepped out and jogged to her side. Opening her door, I reached for her hand. “My lady.”
She grinned at my Prince Charles impression and placed her dainty hand in mine. It was all I could do to keep from clutching her to me. We walked inside and stood in line to order. When she dug into her purse, I shook my head.
“Are you trying to de-man me? I asked you to dinner, so I’ll pay.” I handed my credit card to the pimply faced teen.
“I don’t want to feel obligated to—”
I placed a finger over her lips. “You’re under no obligation to sit and talk. I hope you will. I came all this way hoping to find you, but if you still don’t want anything to do with me, you can leave. I’ll walk back to Viktorya’s.”
The cashier returned my card and receipt. “Your number’s 203.”
Liz shocked me by grabbing my hand and yanking me to a corner booth. I willingly became her victim. She pushed me onto the bench before scooting across from me.
�
�You came here to find me?” I’d never noticed how cute the stress lines between her eyebrows were.
“Yeah. I’ve been looking for you online for months. Viktorya told me you’d gone to South America on some adventure, so I didn’t think I’d have any luck. I know I hurt you, Liz, and I’m so sorry, but—”
“No, I’m sorry.” She reached out to grasp my hands, and I noticed tears in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have run away like I did. I was just so shocked and angry still with the man who killed Justin. When you told me about the accident, I kind of lost it. It wasn’t fair to take out my—”
I stood and growled. “Scoot over.”
Sliding onto the opposite bench, I threw my arm around her. And just like that, the tension between us disappeared. Lizzie laid her head on my shoulder and the last miserable year fell away as my senses received sweet overload.
I traced hearts into her upper arm. “Can we start over?”
She sniff-laughed. “Please. I’ve learned a lot over the past year and hope I’m better now.”
I caressed her face. “You’re perfect.”
“203!” A worker yelled our number.
Releasing an irritated breath, I rested my forehead against hers. “Don’t move a muscle.”
“I’ll be here.”
Practically running to the front, I returned with a tray of food and gave her a silly grin as I divvied up our chow. “You know, when I asked you to dinner, I was thinking more along the lines of a fancy steak house, but this is so much better.”
Her laugh came out a sharp bark, and her elbow jabbed me.
“Oww. What was that for?” I chortled as I bit into my hamburger. “You trying to get fresh with me, woman?”
She laughed in the middle of sipping Coke. I patted her back as she held a hand to her mouth until she could swallow. “Stop making me laugh.”
“Stop making it so fun to watch you laugh then.”
My inner organs were drunk with happiness as we stared at each other, unable to get enough of each other’s faces. I ran my thumb across her knuckles.
“I’m so glad you found me,” she murmured.
Between Hope & the Highway Page 37