Tucked Away

by Jennie Marts

  He shrugged as if black eyes were a common occurrence for him. “Zack wasn’t too thrilled that I tried to kiss you. Sorry about that.”

  She laid her head back on her pillow and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “Yeah, but I was being an idiot and shouldn’t have done it. I’d had too much to drink, you were hurting, and I got carried away.” He looked at her and wiggled his eyebrows. “Plus, you looked so dang good in that little dress.”

  “You’re still being an idiot.” She shook her head then smiled at the cowboy. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

  “Sorry. What can I do to help you?”

  “Is there any water around here? Could you help me get a drink?”

  “I am very good at getting a lady a drink.” He picked up the water on the bedside table. The white Styrofoam cup looked small in his big hands. He let her take a few sips, then returned the cup to the table.

  “I care about you, Charlie. I wouldn’t ever do anything on purpose to hurt you or Zack.”

  “I know. I care about you, too. Just not the way I care about him.”

  He scoffed. “Oh, I know that. And I’m sure he does, too. Despite him being so mule-headed right now, he’d be a fool to let you go.” He smoothed her hair and let his hand rest on the side of her head.

  “I hope you’re right.” She sighed and leaned into his hand.

  “Well, it looks like I’m interrupting something.” Zack stood in the doorway, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. “I’ll leave you to it.” He dropped the flowers to the floor and walked away.

  “Ah, hell.” Cash ran his hand through his hair and looked to her for guidance. “What now?”

  “Go get him. Tell him nothing happened. Tell him to come back.” She swung her leg over the bed, struggling to get up, her breathing labored from the effort.

  “All right there, sister.” Cash reached for her and gently guided her back down onto the bed. “I’ll go after him, but you’re staying here. Promise?”

  She sank back into the bed, waving him away. “Yes, I promise. Just get him.”

  He strode from the room, and she prayed that he would find Zack and convince him to come back.

  …

  Gravel sprayed from the truck’s tires as Zack peeled out of the hospital parking lot.

  How could I have been so stupid? He slammed his fist into the steering wheel. What had he been thinking? He knew he shouldn’t have wasted his time going to the hospital. But something in him had told him it was all a mistake, that Charlie hadn’t really kissed Cash.

  But now he’d seen it with his own eyes. There was obviously more to their relationship than they’d let on.

  Why did he make such terrible decisions when it came to women? He knew Charlie was trouble the first day he’d met her. Anyone with that many lip glosses in her purse had to spell trouble.

  Speaking of trouble, just what the hell was he going to do about Shari? He thought his heart had stopped last night when she’d walked out of the bathroom behind Charlie. What was she doing back here, and what did she want with him? Was she ready to have a real relationship with Sophie? Could he trust her enough to let her back into their lives?

  The questions buzzed in his head like angry wasps. He turned onto the highway, his attention scattered, and narrowly missed a car coming the other direction. The driver swerved to miss Zack’s truck, blaring his horn and displaying an unfriendly gesture out the back window.

  Damn it. Pull it together, man.

  He needed to get his head in the game. Focus on what was important. His practice, his farm, and his daughter. After Shari, he’d sworn that Sophie was the only woman he would ever allow into his heart. And she’d been there since her first breath.

  So how had he let Charlie in? With her city-girl history and those silly pink cowboy boots, he should have known a relationship with her couldn’t last. He’d been tricked again by big blue eyes and soft curves and the feel of a woman in his arms.

  But he should have known. He never should have let himself get involved with her. He didn’t need this pain. Didn’t need another woman screwing with his heart. And he sure as heck didn’t need Charlie Ryan.

  It was better this way. Better that he find out now. Before he’d done something really stupid. Like falling in love in with her.

  Except now it was already too late.

  …

  Five agonizingly long minutes passed, then she heard boot steps coming back down the hospital hallway. Charlie’s heart fell when Cash walked back into the room, alone.

  He stooped to pick up the discarded flowers on his way into the room. “Sorry, honey. He was gone by the time I made it out to the parking lot.”

  She blew it. He’d come to see her, and she was once again with the wrong cowboy. What was wrong with her? Maybe she didn’t deserve a guy like Zack anyway.

  Or maybe he had only come to tell her that he was getting back together with his wife. Maybe the flowers were a peace offering, a let-you-down-easy bouquet. A sparkling of color to distract her from the fact that he was letting her go. Choosing another woman over her. That was probably the more likely scenario.

  Cash set the flowers in the sink of the hospital room, probably assuming that Liz would deal with them when she got back. “I’ll let him cool off a bit and stop by to talk to him later.”

  A dull pain throbbed in her head as she nodded. “Okay.”

  “Listen, I better get back.” He whistled for the dog, who licked her fingers then trotted to his side. “I’ll check on you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

  Yes, sleep. She suddenly felt so tired. Her eyes burned as her eyelids drooped shut. Maybe she could rest just for a little bit. Take a little nap. Then she could figure all this out.

  Her breathing evened out, and soon she was sound asleep.

  …

  “Stupid flipping cast.” Charlie swore at the cumbersome white cast on her arm as she tried to get out of the bathtub.

  They’d only kept her in the hospital overnight and released her the day before. Overall, the injuries she’d sustained were a broken wrist, a couple of cracked ribs, and a mild concussion. A thin line of stitches ran along her hairline where she’d cut her forehead open on the steering wheel.

  She’d been soaking in a warm tub full of bubbles trying to ease the aches in her body. If only the bubbles could ease the ache in her heart as well.

  But now the water had cooled, and she clumsily tried to stand. Her casted arm had gone to sleep as she’d hung it over the side of the tub in an attempt to keep the plaster dry. Pins and needles shot through her hand as she reached for the towel.

  “Oh, honey. Let me help you.” Her mother appeared in the doorway, most likely drawn by the loud cussing at the cast. Liz held her arm out to steady her as she stepped over the rim of the tub.

  Her mother wrapped a towel around her, but not before Charlie counted at least eight ugly bruises parading themselves along her skin. Water dripped onto the floor as she clutched the towel to her battered body.

  Her mom took another towel from the rack and blotted her wet hair with it. Charlie felt like a small child, but she stood in place, letting her mother fuss over her. Running a comb through her wet hair, her mother gently tugged at the knots, then warmed a soothing scented lotion in her hands and smoothed it across Charlie’s arms and shoulders.

  Something about the way her mother tenderly cared for her made Charlie want to weep. She’d found a short cotton nightgown and eased it over Charlie’s head, careful to not disturb the stitches. She guided her daughter over to the bed, the quilted pink comforter turned down, exposing the soft flannel sheets that she had grown to love.

  All she’d done since she left the hospital was sleep and try to forget. She still felt worn down, and she sank into the comfort of Gigi’s bed. She’d wanted to be home. To have time in her own house to think about Zack and the farm and if she should stay. But, after the effort it took to get home and the warm bath, she couldn’t seem
to stay awake.

  There would be time to think later. For now, she could almost feel the comforting arms of her grandmother, coupled with her mother’s rare display of love, and she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Charlie’s heart raced as she knocked on the Cooper’s front door. The day was warm, and her underarms were already clammy with sweat. A wicker basket held a dozen homemade cookies, and she was rethinking the decision to bring them as the basket hung clumsily from her awkward cast.

  She shifted from one foot to the other as she waited to see if Sophie or her father would be the one to answer the door, not really sure what she would say to either one.

  A full week had passed since Zack had stopped by the hospital with the flowers. Since then, she hadn’t heard a word from him. No phone call. No text. Cash said he’d tried to talk to him, but he’d shut him down saying he would talk to her when he was ready.

  Well, here she was. Hope he’s ready. Although, she wasn’t sure if she was. She’d thought of little besides him over the past week. What she should have said. What she should have done. And mostly, what she shouldn’t have done.

  She shouldn’t have walked out without seeing what Zack’s whole reaction to his first wife’s reappearance in his life was. She shouldn’t have left without putting up a fight for him. And she should not have let Cash come anywhere close to kissing her.

  What if Zack didn’t want to reconcile with his wife? What if he really did want to make a future with her? I guess I’m about to find out.

  The door opened, and her rapidly beating heart sunk as she took in the scantily clad blond ex-wife that stood before her.

  Shari almost wore a teeny-tiny pair of cut-off shorts and a white tank top that didn’t quite cover her substantial breasts. The fabric of the shirt was thin, and Charlie could see the outline of the lacy bra that Shari wore underneath it. Her long tan legs ended with bare feet that sported a shiny red polish on her toes.

  Shari’s long blond hair was loose and curled, and Charlie thought she looked as if she could have just stepped out of the pages of Playboy magazine. Hi, my name is Shari, and I like skimpy clothes, long walks on the beach, and wreaking havoc in other people’s lives as I try to steal my ex-husband away from his new love interest.

  “What do you want?” Even though Charlie was a few inches taller, Shari still seemed to look down her nose at her.

  You can do this. She is not better than you. You have great breasts, too. Just not as large. Holy cow. Stay focused, girl. Be strong. “I’m looking for Zack. Is he around?”

  “What if he doesn’t want to see you?”

  “Did he say that?”

  “He doesn’t have to. You did try to run over our little girl.”

  OUR little girl? Who was she kidding? Charlie hated this woman so much. “That was an accident. I would never purposely try to hurt Sophie.”

  “Oh, but you did hurt her, didn’t you. You hurt both of them. So, why don’t you take your little basket and head on back to Gigi’s place. Nobody here is interested in anything you have to say.”

  Hot tears threatened to form in her eyes. Do not cry in front of this woman. Do not give her the satisfaction. “I’ll just stop by later when Zack is here.”

  “Don’t bother.” Shari started to swing the front door shut, cutting off any response that Charlie could have had. And, any second now, she was going to come up with a really great response.

  Shari pulled the door back open, as if she’d been the one to suddenly come up with the good response. “Besides, I heard that you already moved on to another pasture. Not that I blame you. Cash is one hot cowboy.”

  How had this woman heard about her near-indiscretion with Cash already? Did Zack tell her, or did the whole town know?

  Shari smirked, as if reading her mind. Apparently, she wasn’t done with her hurtful comments yet. “And don’t even try to talk to Sophie. She and Zack are both so happy that I’m home. We’re putting our family back together and don’t need you sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted.”

  All of the air escaped her lungs. She felt like she had been physically punched in the gut. She winced as the hideous woman slammed the door shut in her face.

  Stunned, she turned from the door, shoulders slumped as she headed down the steps. She walked out the driveway towards the road, thinking the long way home would give her some much needed exercise and time to clear her head.

  Five minutes later, she was regretting that choice. Trudging down the road, the blacktop hot under her thinly soled white tennis shoes, the sun blinked off the colored jewels Sophie had Bedazzled them with.

  Sweat dripped from her forehead as the afternoon sun baked her bare shoulders. The extra exercise wasn’t really helping since she’d eaten half of the cookies as she walked. Sweat poured into her cast, making her skin itch under the heavy plaster.

  Had Shari been making up that stuff about Sophie and Zack being happy that she was home? Were they really trying to put their family back together? Or was she just trying to get under Charlie’s skin? She tried to console herself by assuming Shari was lying.

  Either way, the guilt burned in her stomach. How had she gone from the wronged girlfriend to the guilty villain in this scenario? She had always been the innocent one that got dumped, left behind, returned in exchange for a newer, faster, thinner model.

  One moment of letting her guard down, one stupid misunderstanding and everything fell apart.

  Now she was the one hoping for another chance. If a chance even existed. The fact that Shorty-shorts Shari had opened the door meant that she was making herself at home in Zack’s house.

  Had she really moved back in? Maybe all this worry was wasted emotion because Zack had already reconciled with Sophie’s mother. Maybe he was glad when he thought she was with Cash, allowing him an easy way out, a clear path to get back with his ex.

  All of these questions were giving her a headache. Sweat trickled down her back, and the cast felt like it weighed twenty pounds.

  The sound of a car engine had her turning, drawing her out of her worrisome musings. She shielded her eyes from the sun, wishing for the tenth time that she would’ve remembered her sunglasses and hoping this was one of the guys returning home from town and she could catch a ride.

  She recognized the non-descript sedan that pulled to a stop next to her, but it was not one of the guys. Not one of the guys she wanted to see anyway. The passenger window of the sedan rolled down, and the cool air-conditioned air seeped out, seducing her to lean into the car, if only to feel the chilled breeze on her skin.

  The man at the wheel waved. “Hi, Charlie. Want a ride?”

  “From you, no. But I’m hot and tired and think I’ll take one anyway.”

  “Hop in. I’m headed out your way.” Wayne leaned across the seats and pushed open the door for her.

  She slid in, sighing with relief in the cooled air of the car. She set the basket in between them on the bench seat. “Want a cookie?”

  “Sure.”

  She reached into the basket for a cookie, surprised at how few remained. Oh well. It’s not like anyone was going to see her naked in the near future. What did a little extra chocolate chip cookie-weight matter now? She pulled out a cookie for Wayne and another for herself, the chocolate chips shiny in their semi-melted state.

  Wayne took a bite, oblivious to the crumbs falling on his standard white shirt, and spoke with his mouth full. “Thanks. These are good.”

  “So, why are you heading out my way? Or do I not want to know that answer?”

  He sighed. “You know, I’m not a bad guy. This is my job. I get paid to do this.”

  “Well, you’re getting paid to railroad my family into tearing down the farm that has been in our family for years. No pun intended.”

  “It’s just business,” he said, ignoring the stab at the railroad connection. “And we are offering you a LOT of money for a farm that’s been in a family that you only found out you were
a part of a few months ago.”

  “Whatever.” It was a childish comeback, but she was too tired to think of something wittier. “You didn’t answer the question. Why are you headed out to Tucked Away?”

  “Give me another cookie, and I’ll tell you.” He smiled, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay, I’ll tell you anyway, but those cookies are really good. I’ve only been eating in restaurants, and I haven’t had anything homemade in months.”

  She reached into the basket and handed him two, trying not to feel sympathy for this man who wanted to destroy the only place that felt like home to her right now.

  “Thanks.” He offered her a grateful grin. “Now, don’t shoot the messenger, but your parents wanted me to come out and talk about what options they had for selling.”

  Her blood pressure went up three notches. How dare they? “For selling what? Lemonade?”

  “Very funny. In their defense, they wanted to know if they could keep the farm intact and sell off parts of the land.”

  “First of all, they aren’t selling anything. Gigi left that farm to me.”

  Wayne shrugged. “I guess there’re some stipulations about that.”

  “What stipulations?”

  “I’m not sure. That’s why I’m headed out there. To see if there’s a chance we can come up with a deal.” He ran his hand through his hair, the sweat-damp strands sticking up after his hand dropped, giving him the impression of a little boy. “You know, I have a life, too. And someday I would like to get back to it.”

  As if on cue, his cell phone rang. It sat in the console between them, and a picture of Wayne with an average-looking woman and an adorable blond-haired little girl popped up on the small screen, as if to prove that he did, indeed, have a life.

  “Sorry, I need to take this.” He plucked the phone up, depressed the button and spoke quietly into the receiver. “Hi, honey.”

  She hadn’t pictured Wayne as being married. She eavesdropped on his conversation and tried to imagine the fair-haired woman in the picture ironing his shirts and calling him by terms of endearment.