Her Cowboy Distraction

by Carla Cassidy

  “No thanks,” she said, a touch of irritability in her voice. “What I want is to get out of this bed.”

  He pulled up the chair next to her bed. “But, you know that Doc Lawrence said that the best medicine for you right now is bed rest.”

  “Yeah, but I think I might be getting bedsores,” she replied.

  Daniel laughed. “I don’t think you’re in any danger of that. You’ve been up and down quite a few times to sit with visitors.”

  Her features relaxed into a small smile. “Honestly, I’ve been so surprised by having so many people come by.”

  “People care, Lizzy. People here care about you.” He studied her face, pleased that the bruising on her cheek had turned the yellow of healing.

  “Don’t listen to me. I’m just being a brat,” she finally replied. “You’ve been so kind to me, and here I am complaining.”

  He smiled. “You’re just getting a little housebound crazy. You want to play a couple of games of gin rummy?”

  “I’m really pretty sick of beating your butt every day at card games,” she said with a wicked little smile.

  “I think you cheat. It’s the only thing to explain the losing streak I’ve been on for the past couple of days.” His eyes twinkled teasingly.

  “I think even if we played Old Maid, you’d wind up being her,” she replied with a smile. The smile faded and she looked at him with curiosity. “Tell me about your marriage.”

  The question came out of left field and instantly tightened the muscles in his stomach. “What do you want to know about it?”

  “Tell me about Janice. You never talk about her. You rarely even mention her name.”

  “She was beautiful and vibrant and very social. She loved eating out at the café and going down to The Corral and dancing the night away.” He chose his words carefully, unwilling to malign the dead as the old familiar guilt welled up inside him.

  “Your marriage must have been wonderful,” Lizzy said softly.

  He stared at her. Wonderful? Not hardly. “Our marriage was difficult,” he finally answered as surprise flickered across Lizzy’s features. “Janice was five years younger than me, and I think at the time we got married Janice wanted to be a bride but she didn’t really have any interest in being a wife. She spent so much time with Cherry and Maddy there were times I felt like I married all three women. She hated the ranch, she hated her life here, and I think at the very end she hated me.” He frowned, realizing he’d said far too much more than he’d initially intended.

  Lizzy stared at him for a long moment, as if digesting what he’d just spilled out. “What happened on the night she died?”

  Daniel got up from the chair and moved to stand at the window, where he stared out unseeing as miserable memories of that final night with Janice filled his head.

  “I’d promised her when we got married that every Friday night we’d go to the café for pie and coffee and every Saturday night we’d go to The Corral and have a few drinks and dance. At the time it seemed an easy promise to keep, but on that particular Saturday in the late afternoon I had a horse go down with colic. I called Fred Jenkins out to check on the animal, and he thought maybe the cause was some new grain that I’d given her that had clumped in her stomach. I was frantic. When a horse goes down, it’s always a bad situation. She was a good mare and in such obvious distress. Fred and I agreed that the best thing I could do was walk the horse. Thirty minutes walking and thirty minutes resting for however long it took to get her feeling better.”

  He turned from the window to once again face Lizzy, who was obviously listening with rapt attention. “I walked that mare for the next three and a half hours, until her discomfort was gone and I felt like we were over the crisis. By the time I came back into the house, it was almost seven-thirty and I was beyond exhaustion. I walked in to find Janice dressed to the nines and wearing her red high-heel dancing shoes, and I knew we were going to have a problem.”

  He could still remember the sound of one of her feet tapping impatiently on the floor, her lips pressed together thinly in controlled anger.

  Take back the night, he thought to himself. If he could just take back that night. He doubted that he and Janice would have remained married for much longer, but at least she would have lived to find happiness someplace else.

  “You didn’t want to go to The Corral,” Lizzy said, her voice whisper-soft.

  He gave her a curt nod. “That was the very last thing I wanted to do. I was dirty and exhausted. I’d spent everything I had trying to bring that horse back from the edge. All I wanted was a hot shower and my bed. For the two years of our marriage, we’d never missed the Friday and Saturday night outings, but that night I wasn’t going anywhere.”

  “And she got mad.”

  Daniel emitted a bark of bitterness. “We both got mad. She told me I was breaking a promise, and I told her she was a spoiled brat.” Guilt surged up inside him once again. “We both said ugly things to each other.” He raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I should have just sucked it up and gone to The Corral with her. If I’d done that, everything would have been fine. Instead she called Cherry to come get her, and you know how things ended.”

  Lizzy studied his face for a long moment. “And so it’s all your fault.”

  He felt his jaw muscles tighten. “I should have just done what she wanted,” he replied.

  “And she should have been grown-up enough to recognize that you’d had a difficult day, that sometimes promises can’t be met because real life gets in the way. Daniel, Janice’s and Cherry’s deaths weren’t your fault.”

  He hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed to hear those words from somebody, from anybody, until he heard them from her. “But, if I’d just gone with her then she never would have called Cherry, and both women would still be alive,” he said, unable to let go of the weight of guilt in his chest.

  “From what I heard about the accident it was snowy that night, and the ruling on the accident was not just inclement weather but also excessive speed. Were you in that car with your foot pressed down on the gas pedal? I don’t think so. You weren’t responsible for what happened that night, Daniel. How long do you intend to beat yourself up about something that wasn’t your fault?”

  He stared at her in stunned surprise, and something snapped and broke off inside him, something that alleviated the heavy weight of guilt that had been with him for so long. He sank back down in the chair next to her, and she immediately took one of his hands in hers.

  “So, your Friday night pie ritual at the café wasn’t about you loving your wife so much you couldn’t let her go, it was an act of penance because you’ve felt so responsible for her death.”

  “For a while I felt as if everyone in town blamed me. I don’t know exactly what Janice told Cherry about our fight, and I don’t know how many people Cherry called before she got here to pick Janice up that night, but basically the information going around town was that I’d kicked Janice out of the house after I’d beaten her half to death.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Oh, Daniel, you have to let this go. You have to be happy again.”

  His heart swelled in his chest. “That’s what you’ve brought back into my life, Lizzy. You’ve made me happy again. You’ve made me think about life’s possibilities.” God, he wanted to tell her he loved her. The words burned on the tip of his tongue with the need to be released.

  “And I hope you continue on that path when I leave here.”

  His words of love instantly froze on his lips. He’d been foolish in allowing his heart to get involved with her. She’d made it clear from the very beginning that she had no intention of remaining in Grady Gulch, in staying with him.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as he once again got up from the chair. He needed some distance. He grabbed the soup bowl that was on the bedside table. “You need anything?” he asked.

  “No, I’m fine for now.” Those whiskey eyes of hers stared at him inten
tly as if trying to peer into his very soul.

  “I’ve got a little surprise planned for you later, if you feel up to it.”

  She smiled. “Whatever it is, I’m in if it has anything to do with me getting out of this bed.”

  “It does. I’ll tell you a little more about it later.” With the soup bowl in hand he turned and left the room, a dull ache where his heart should be.

  He reached the kitchen, rinsed the soup bowl and placed it into the dishwasher and then moved to the window to stare outside.

  He hadn’t been out of the house since Lizzy had come there from the hospital. He’d paid a man who often worked for him to come in and take care of the daily chores. Daniel didn’t want to take any chances where Lizzy’s safety was concerned. He intended to remain in the house until whoever had beat her up was caught or she left town.

  And she was leaving town.

  She’d brought him back to life, opened his heart to loving again, and soon she was going to leave town before they could fully explore a real relationship.

  There were moments he was convinced she loved him back, when he’d seen something shining from her eyes that filled him with hope, with an excitement he’d never felt before. He’d felt love in her touch, in the soft smiles she gifted to him, but none of that mattered.

  He hadn’t been enough for his wife, and apparently he wasn’t enough for Lizzy.

  He’d been a fool when he’d married Janice, a fool driven by the desire to be married and start a family, blinded by lust and fantasy. And, it appeared he was a fool again for falling in love with Lizzy.

  * * *

  Lizzy sat on the edge of the bed and stared out the window, where the darkness of night had fallen. Daniel had been unusually quiet during the afternoon and evening, and she wondered if talking about Janice had opened old wounds.

  The guilt he’d carried for so long was tragic, and she wasn’t sure a simple conversation with her had done anything to really ease it. He deserved better. He deserved so much more than what he’d gotten from life, from love, thus far.

  Her bruises were slowly fading and she had most of her strength back. Mary had told her when she’d come to visit the day before that her job was waiting for her whenever she was ready to come back, but Lizzy wasn’t coming back. In the next two days she intended to be back on the road again, getting away from Grady Gulch…away from Daniel.

  Things had gotten far too complicated here. What had begun as a simple stop on her bucket list had gone way out of control. Lizzy didn’t like complicated. Easy and breezy, that’s the way she liked it, with her expecting nothing from nobody and depending only on herself.

  She needed to get out of Daniel’s way so he could start building something meaningful, something loving and good with the woman he was meant to be with for the rest of his life.

  “Ready for your surprise?” he asked as he appeared in her doorway.

  “Definitely, but it’s awfully late in the day for surprises.”

  “The later the better for this surprise,” he replied with a mysterious twinkle in his eyes.

  She got up from the bed, the pain in her ribs much better and the ache in her thighs barely discernible. “Okay then, lead me to it.” She suddenly noticed he had a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “What’s that for?” she asked in surprise.

  For just a moment his eyes took on a hard glint. “I told you I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again. In order to have your surprise we have to leave the house.” He touched the butt of the gun. “I’m just being cautious, that’s all.”

  “And I like that about you,” she returned with a light smile.

  They walked down the stairs and to the back door, and then he turned to face her. “Your surprise is in the barn. Lizzy, if you feel like you can’t go back in there after what happened to you, then we’ll forget the whole thing.” His eyes held a soft concern that whispered tenderness in her heart.

  She thought about it for a minute. “A bad person did something bad to me in the barn, but that doesn’t make the barn a bad place. The barn is a good place. Molly and all the other horses are there.”

  His gaze of concern changed to one of admiration. “You are an amazingly strong woman, Lizzy.” He grabbed her hand and together they stepped out of the back door. He locked it behind them and then took her hand once again as they began to walk across the yard toward the barn.

  She could tell as they walked that his attention wasn’t solely on her, but rather on their surroundings. He gazed from right to left, a slight tension in his body as if he was ready for anything or anyone that might come out of the darkness as a threat.

  When they were within about twenty feet from the structure tension started to well up inside her and she squeezed Daniel’s hand tighter.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  “Just a little twinge of nerves,” she admitted. “It’s a beautiful night.” She tried to focus on anything but the memory of what had happened to her the last time she had been in the barn.

  “A perfect clear sky,” he agreed. They reached the barn and opened the door and turned on the light.

  She hesitated a moment before stepping inside, but she kept her nerves under control by focusing on the familiar scents and the sounds of the horses nickering a greeting. She started to walk in the direction of the horses, but he stopped her.

  “We aren’t going that way,” he said. “Your surprise is up here.” He pointed to a wooden ladder in the corner that led up to the hayloft.

  She eyed him with curiosity. “Okay.”

  The ladder wasn’t wide enough to allow them to go up together. “Stay right behind me,” he said as they began to climb. Once they both reached the loft, he checked it as if making sure nobody else was up there, then he told her to sit on a bale of hay and he’d be back.

  He raced down the ladder, and Lizzy was more curious than she’d ever been. What was up there that would be considered a surprise? All she could see were bales of hay stacked here and there.

  The lights downstairs went off and sudden terror stopped her heart. “It’s okay, Lizzy,” he called quickly, as if he knew she’d be terrified. “I turned off the lights on purpose.” A flashlight beam lit the stairs and then he was back in the loft, the beam of light a welcomed glow against the darkness.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “I’m hoping you will in a minute. Here, hold this.” He handed her the flashlight as he moved two bales of hay into position and retrieved a bottle of wine and two glasses from where they must have been hidden earlier. “Now, move over here next to me.”

  As she moved to the hay bale right next to where he sat, he popped the cork on the wine and poured them each a glass. “This is nice,” she said as she took the glass from him. “Nice, but a little bit odd.”

  He laughed. “Hopefully you won’t find it so odd in just a minute.” He sobered. “You told me that one of the things on your bucket list was to sit on a mountaintop and stargaze. This isn’t exactly a mountaintop, but it provides a pretty good view of the stars. Turn off the flashlight.”

  She did as he said and the loft was once again plunged into complete darkness. “I hate to tell you this, Daniel, but I don’t see a single star.”

  He reached forward and unlatched two doors she hadn’t realized were right in front of her. As they swung outward she gasped at the sight of the beauty of the night sky.

  It was absolute magic. The stars appeared so close she felt that if she just leaned forward a little bit she could grasp a handful of the glittering lights.

  “Oh, Daniel, it’s beautiful.” Emotion pressed tight in her chest, emotion she didn’t want to examine too closely.

  She couldn’t believe he’d thought of her bucket list, that he’d arranged all this specifically for her benefit. He’d given her a mountaintop right there in Grady Gulch.

  She leaned against the hay bale behind her and sipped the wine, her gaze captured by the astronomical splendor before her. “Do you co
me up here often?” She turned to look at him, his features visible by the light of the moon.

  “This is my first time. I was just thinking about your bucket list earlier today and got this idea.”

  “It was a wonderful idea.” Although she kept her focus on the skies, she was aware of his gaze lingering on her.

  “Tell me about your childhood, Lizzy. Was it a good one?”

  “Good in some ways, not so good in others,” she replied. “My dad wasn’t terrific with the child support payments, so financially we always struggled a bit. But, my mother was a wonderful, caring woman who always made me feel safe and loved. She could make a picnic of butter sandwiches seem like an elegant five-star meal.”

  She took another sip of the wine as she thought about her childhood. “When it comes to my father, I was the cliché child who sat on the stoop for hours waiting for him to show up because he’d made plans to take me to the zoo or to see a movie or a hundred other things. I spent a lot of nights over the years sitting on that stoop. It took me a long time to finally catch on that he wasn’t dependable, that he was never going to keep a promise made to me.”

  The pain of the child she had once been resonated through her soul, making her realize there was still a little wounding there that would probably never heal. It had taken her a long time to realize the problem was with him and not that there was something wrong, something bad, with her.

  “I’m sorry,” Daniel said simply.

  “It’s all right. It was a long time ago. Look, there’s the Milky Way.”

  For the next hour they sipped wine and watched the stars, pointing out constellations they recognized and enjoying easy small talk about the people in town and ranch life in general.

  They didn’t discuss Candy’s murder or the attacks on her. Nothing negative entered the conversation at all, and Lizzy felt more relaxed than she had since the last attack on her.

  The wine bottle was nearly empty when Daniel placed an arm around her shoulder and gently pulled her closer against him. She stiffened for a moment and then gave in, relaxing into his warmth and comfort.