Bobby threw an interception on the next play, giving the ball right back to the opposing team with only a few minutes on the clock. Jake called a timeout and pulled his son over to the sideline. Bobby’s head hung low as Jake berated him. The evening sun glistened off the silver-colored helmet as it bobbed in curt little nods.
When Bobby went back onto the field, she looked at Jake. His face was a mask of calculated consternation, his feet apart, his fists on his hips. He called out to his team and they rallied behind their quarterback. Jake would be a bear if the Cowboys lost the game, making Bobby feel as if he’d lost it for his team. Bobby never saw the wrongness of his father’s actions and words. To him, he deserved the cold shoulder and the criticism he’d get later if they lost.
“Do you like fixing hair, Miz Tracy?”
Mandy’s question reined her attention back to the little girl stealing her heart. She worked to paste on a smile. “I feel like I’m helping people. I can make someone feel pretty if I can do their hair in a way they like. Sometimes folks just want someone to talk to and that helps them, too. But I’m thinking about going back to school. I’ve always wanted to be a doctor. It will take me forever, though.”
“I don’t like the doctor.” Mandy wrinkled her nose. “I always get shots when I go there.”
Tracy laughed and looked up at Zack. Surprise seemed to register in Zack’s widened eyes as he studied her. Did he remember a similar conversation? They’d talked most of one night prior to graduation. He’d made love to her for hours, but when they’d rested, he’d held her close and asked her why she’d wanted to be a doctor.
Her answer seemed as idealistic now as it had when she’d told him. I want to help people, make them well again and heal disease. For as long as she lived, she’d never forget the awed expression that had come to him looking up into her face as she’d leaned over him.
The same expression that was on his face now.
“My momma was a nurse,” Mandy said dragging Tracy back to the present.
“Yes, I’ve heard.” Tracy forced her smile to reappear.
Zack cleared his throat. “Mandy...”
Bobby was getting his team ever closer to scoring the winning touchdown. People around them jumped to their feet, but Zack and Tracy remained sitting.
“I wish I had someone to show me how to do my hair. Can you show me?” Mandy’s words were almost lost in the sudden cheering erupting around them when another Cowboy ran the ball to just inches from the goal line before being deflagged.
Zack’s intake of air was a warning, but Tracy couldn’t look at him. This was between her and his little girl. “Sure. You’ll have to talk your daddy into bringing you over to the shop sometime. We’ll have a girl’s day.”
Zack’s smile was borderline grimace. “I think we need to watch the game. Our team is about to win.”
The crowd around them went wild. Her son and his team had pulled off a win. Zack’s gaze connected with Tracy’s, and something monumental churned deep within the dark blue fire.
Was it hatred?
Or was it something else entirely?
Chapter 6
Friday after school, Tracy drove Bobby to his father’s automotive service station, which Jake had taken over when his father died five years ago with cirrhosis from years of alcoholism.
She always felt like she was abandoning her baby when she left him with Jake on his weeks. They shared joint custody of Bobby, which meant he spent every other week with his father.
Jake lived beside the business in an old trailer that couldn’t quite be considered ramshackle, but definitely needed some TLC. Tracy remembered the day Jake carried her over the threshold. His parents had given them the former rental as a wedding gift. And never allowed her to forget that, in their eyes, her parents had given the newlyweds nothing. They’d never considered the small fortune from her parents that Tracy sunk into the place to make it livable worthy of mentioning.
Across the street, Jake’s mother, Sandy, lived in an old two-story, which also needed a date with the handyman. The house had probably been beautiful once upon a time, built by one of Jake’s Blackwell ancestors. In contrast to the overgrown grass in front of Jake’s house, flowering pots and a flock of pink flamingos filled his mother’s yard. In a small carriage house beside the house, Sandy had her beauty parlor. Tracy had worked there until the day she’d announced she was leaving Jake.
“Dad will take me to my game tomorrow,” Bobby said as she parked next to the curb, bringing her out of her ponderings.
Tracy looked over her shoulder at her son in the backseat. “Okay. But I’ll be there, too.”
Bobby shrugged and concentrated on gathering up his backpack. “Can we all go out together? Dad said if we win again, he’d take me out to eat.”
She turned in the seat. “Bobby, you know that isn’t a good idea.”
“Why don’t you like Dad?”
She resisted the urge to close her eyes. Tracy wished she could tell him the truth about her relationship with his father, but he was too innocent to understand. Even if he hadn’t been young, she couldn’t tell him. Destroying Bobby’s belief in his father was beyond her ability to do. Someday Jake would do it himself.
“He said it’s your fault you’re not married anymore.”
Tracy swallowed her retort and took a deep breath. Ah, Jake was at it again. He’d been making her out to be the bad guy in their divorce since the day she’d packed her things and moved out. Most people in town still believed she’d left Jake for another man because she’d moved to Waco for a while. After all, once a cheater, always a cheater.
“Sometimes people just can’t get along, sweetheart.”
He watched her with imploring eyes, and it broke her heart that the standard answer wasn’t enough anymore.
As he opened the door to get out, Bobby mumbled, “I don’t understand why you married him. Or why everyone made such a big fuss about Uncle Dylan’s wedding. Nobody stays married anyway.”
How could she tell her son that love makes the difference?
When Jake came out from one of the open bay doors of the garage, Tracy exited the Taurus and came around to watch Bobby stop in front of his father.
“Hey, T-Rex.” Jake smiled as he ruffled Bobby’s brown hair.
“Hi, Dad.” Bobby moved in a step and lifted his arms as if he wanted to hug Jake. But he didn’t; instead, he stepped away again and crossed his arms. “Are we gonna go fishing tomorrow before the game? You promised.”
Despite all of Jake’s faults, he loved Bobby. They were buddies. “You bet. Tonight I thought we’d go out for supper and rent a movie. I’m even closing up early. I just need to get the fire chief’s truck done.”
“Can I see whatever I want?”
“Anything.” Jake glanced at Tracy. “Say ’bye to your mom and then go see Grandma over in the big house. She’s got somethin’ for you.”
Bobby turned toward her. “’Bye Mom.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
For a moment, Tracy thought he was going to hug her as he had when he was little. Instead, he mumbled, “Love you, too.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow at your game,” Tracy reminded him.
He nodded, gave her a quick wave and then turned away. With almost everything within her, she wanted to gather him up in her arms. She watched Bobby look both ways before sprinting across the street and up the steps of his grandmother’s front porch.
“We need to talk.” Jake’s even voice jolted her into turning toward him. “And time’s a-wasting. Marlin McPherson won’t be too happy if I don’t get that water pump done on his bucket of rust and bolts.”
“Yes, we do need to talk.” Tracy bit on her bottom lip and fidgeted with her keys in her hand. “We have to do something about Bobby’s behavior. He copped a terrible attitude Saturday at Dylan’s wedding.”
Jake put his hands on his hips and scowled at her. “I had tickets to the Rangers game for weeks. As soon as your asshole
brother decides to get married, my plans have to be thrown out the window. Last weekend was supposed to be mine. He never acts up when he’s with me.”
“He never ‘acts up’ when he’s with you because as long as he plays football the way you want, he can do whatever he wants. You never set any rules.”
He stepped closer and leaned into her face. “By the way, I will not allow your latest fling to yell at my son. No wonder he has a bad attitude when he’s with you if you let your flavor of the week abuse him.”
“What are you talking about? No one yelled at Bobby, and no one ever abused him. I don’t have a ‘latest fling’ or a ‘flavor of the week’ as you so gallantly put it.”
“Zack.”
He couldn’t be serious. “What does Zack–”
“You may be screwin’ your old flame, but I will not allow that sombitch anywhere near my son. You got that?” Jake looked Tracy over from head to toe. She was dressed in jeans and a baggy t-shirt, nothing remotely sexy, but his eyes flared with a lust that disgusted her. Giving her a slow grin, he said, “You know if it’s just sex you want, I’m always available.”
“Damn it, Jake, we’re divorced. We can’t stand each other.”
He moved close enough for her to kiss him if the thought didn’t make her gag. “Don’t worry.” His voice was low and husky. “I’m not talking about a walk down the aisle again. But the sex was always good.”
Huffing, Tracy smiled as smugly as she could muster. “Not always. Believe me, I’ve had better.” She enjoyed the irritated narrowing of his eyes way too much. “I had blinders on. I believed your bullshit and fell for your charm. Not again, Jake. Now, let’s talk about your constantly making me out to be the heavy where Bobby is concerned.”
“Ah, yes, I was never as good as dear old Zack Cartwright.” He spoke in a low hiss. “I heard that either the Marines or his beauty queen wife neutered him. Glad to hear that was all vicious lies.”
“Goodbye, Jake.” She turned away and headed back to her car.
“Does Zack know you screwed me over for his brother?”
She jerked to a stop and spun around. “I never slept with Logan and you know it. He helped me get away from you. Without him, I probably never would have. He helped me see your true colors and how you cheated me out of the life I really wanted. He’s my friend, nothing more.”
“If I remember correctly, that’s all you considered me when you fucked me for the first time.” He moved toward her and smiled. “I remember that first time, Tracy. I remember how you came on to me after the roundup at the McPherson place. You couldn’t even wait until we got off the ranch. You told me to pull into the pasture, and we went at it on the bed of my truck.”
Tracy flinched and took a step back. “You manipulated me into thinking the man I loved was cheating on me. You were supposed to be his best friend. In my stupid, naive way of thinking, I was getting back at him. Not to mention you had me believing you actually loved me. I just didn’t realize, until much too late, I was no more than a pawn in some sick game.”
She glared at him and snarled as she fisted her hands. God, she wished she could punch that cocky gleam out of his eyes. “If there is a chance for Zack and me to find what we’ve lost, it is none of your damned business. But you will not use my son in your games.”
“I’ll raise my son any damned way I see fit. But I will not allow Sheriff GI Joe to verbally bully him.”
Tracy pulled into her full height, putting herself a good two inches taller than him, which she knew infuriated him more than her words. “Zack didn’t yell at Bobby. He needs someone to show him some authority and that he can’t get everything he wants just because he wants it. Bobby didn’t like being reminded he’s a kid and the world doesn’t always turn at his will. God knows he would never learn that from you. In the end, Bobby had fun, and if you were to ask him, I’d bet he’d even say he enjoyed being part of his uncle’s special day instead of going to see his favorite baseball team lose.”
Jake snorted and leaned back on his heels. His shirt tightened across his shoulders when he folded his arms over his chest. Clenching his fists, he sneered. “Zack Cartwright is not the boss of my son, Tracy.”
As she reached for the handle of her car door, Jake’s next words halted her. “Do you know why I’m suing you for full custody?”
“Because you’re a royal jackass?”
“Not any more than you’re a two-bit whore.”
She spun on him.
“The company you keep has become increasingly bad news. The men you parade in and out of your bed have gone from bad to worse. Not to mention having your alcoholic, suicidal brother living with you in your small apartment. Exposing Bobby to his craziness.”
“Dylan was never suicidal and he isn’t crazy.”
Jake shrugged. “Post-traumatic stress disorder. Google it. One of the symptoms is suicidal thoughts. So is violence. I heard he put Brenda’s new husband in a chokehold in the Longhorn back in March,” he said, referring to Dylan’s ex-wife, her husband, and an incident that happened before he started working for Charli.
“You can’t be serious. What was I supposed to do, Jake? He’s my brother. Dylan was never suicidal or dangerous and you know it!”
Jake looked at his watch. “My lawyer sees things differently.”
He turned away and headed toward the open garage bay.
Dear God, what was she going to do?
* * * *
When the bell jingled above the door, Tracy glanced up from the reception desk and smiled at the woman standing inside the entry. “Melissa?”
The petite woman tentatively returned Tracy’s smile and pushed golden blond hair behind an ear. She held out a small hand and nodded. “Hi. Yes, I’m Melissa Blackwell. You must be Tracy.”
Tracy stood to shake the small hand. She towered over the shorter woman by almost a foot. Heading around the desk, Tracy gestured toward the couch by the double window. “Please sit. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Soda?”
Melissa shifted the strap of her bag from her shoulder. She was dressed in black slacks and a white clingy sweater, which did everything to emphasize her curves. “Coffee would be fine.”
Tracy went to the commercial coffee maker on an old sideboard and poured them each a cup. After she settled on the wingchair next to the couch, she took a deep breath and clutched her cup between her hands. She’d never conducted an interview before and hadn’t had time to prepare as well as she’d have liked.
Melissa appeared to be nearly as nervous as she was. She sipped her coffee as she looked around. “This is a really nice place.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry to hear about your dad.”
“He’s not doing well. Although he doesn’t let on he’s as bad off as he is.” She looked down into the cup between her hands. “I wish I’d known how sick he was sooner. I would’ve been here before now.”
At a loss for what else to say, Tracy asked, “So, how long have you been in Colton?”
Melissa shrugged. “About a week.” A sheepish smile touched her full lips. “I’ll admit I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town.” She lost a smile and took a quick sip of her coffee. “It’s a lot different than LA.”
Tracy laughed. “I can’t disagree with that. I’ve lived all over the world. But I wouldn’t want to live anywhere but here.”
“Colton has its own kind of charm.” She glanced around again. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s because it’s...”
“It’s home.”
Melissa’s eyes sparkled. “Yes. I guess that’s it. I mean, I’m living in the same house my great-great-grandfather built.”
“I understand perfectly.”
They shared a smile. She and Melissa would get along perfectly.
The rest of the interview went smoothly. Tracy was impressed with Melissa’s education and her work history. After a quick tour around the salon, they returned to the reception area.
“How would you like to start tomorrow?” Tr
acy held out her hand.
Melissa’s smile dazzled as she took Tracy’s hand and squeezed. “Sure! I’d love to. Thank you.”
“Then we have a deal. I’ll see you tomorrow at ten.”
At the door, Melissa tilted her head to look up at Tracy, again reminding her of the difference in their height. “Is Logan Cartwright still in town?”
Logan? “Ah... He actually lives in Dallas, but hangs out at one of the smaller houses on the CW when he’s in town, which is a lot.”
She smiled, but it never reached her eyes. “Thanks. I’ll have to look him up.”
“I’m sure he’d like to see you. How do you know Logan?” Tracy couldn’t keep the question from popping out. In all the years that she’d know him, he never mentioned knowing the Blackwell twins. Once their B-movie actress mother hightailed it out of Texas, she’d never set foot in the state again. As rumor had it, the only way Buck had gotten to see his daughters was by going to California to visit them.
Melissa looked at the floor, but not before Tracy noticed her frown. “I don’t know him–not really. But my sister does. They sang together when he was in college.”
Actress Olivia Blackwell and Logan?
Before she could ask any more questions, Melissa smiled and reached for the doorknob. “I better get home. Thank you again, Tracy.”
* * * *
Zack woke up before dawn Saturday. He dressed and ate a breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast, washing it all down with a pot of black coffee with way too much sugar. After kissing a still-sleeping Amanda, Zack left her in the care of Amy Jackson, the seventeen-year-old daughter of his head foreman. She babysat Mandy when his mother wasn’t available and the daycare in town was closed.
He wasn’t on duty today, and his cousin had promised to help him replace the patched fencing between him and his neighbor. It was too early to determine if old man Estrada’s stud had bred any of Zack’s mares, but after the stallion had broken through the fence his men had patched again yesterday morning, there was a chance the paint would be a proud papa in eleven months.
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