Redeemed by the Cowgirl (Mills & Boon Desire)

by Silver James

  “Oh! Right. It’s an intriguing piece, maybe even historically significant. I’d have to do some research to be sure—”

  “Roxanne, I don’t care. Get on with the story.” She could hear the exasperation in his tone.

  “Oh, right. So, I’m being nosy about the globe and I heard voices in the hall. I hadn’t closed the door all the way when I got there because...well, you know the reason. I’m aware that none of you trust me. But the globe was so interesting and—”

  “The voices, Roxanne.” Bridger jerked her back on topic.

  “Voices. Yes, outside. I...panicked. And hid. Under Cash’s desk. By the time I realized I should not be there, and did not want to hear what Cash and Mr. Barron were saying, it was too late. Announcing my presence would be far more awkward than just staying under the desk. I thought—hoped that Cash would leave with his father and I could sneak out, pretend I’d never been there and didn’t hear a thing.”

  “But.”

  “Huge but. I suspect Cash knew I was there but I can’t figure out how.”

  “Not that my cousin is OCD or anything but he knows with one glance whether someone has been in his office. You moved the globe.”

  “I did. In fact, I took it under the desk with me. Oh dear! Do you think Cash thought I was stealing it or something? I wasn’t. Truly. And I put it right back in its spot on his desk when I stood up.”

  “No, Roxanne. I don’t believe Cash thought you were trying to steal his snow globe.”

  “So he just...hates me now.” Her insides were curled up like a ball of rattlesnakes and she didn’t want to move, knowing she’d get all sorts of bites that would really hurt.

  “I wish I could say you’re wrong, Roxie, but I just don’t know.” He parked the SUV in front of her apartment and looked at her, his expression surprisingly sad. “I thought Cash might have a chance with you.”

  “A chance? I gave him all the chances in the world.”

  “That’s not what I meant, hon. I meant that if my cousin smartened up, he’d take what you were offering. He needs what you could give him. I’m sorry he turned out to be an idiot.”

  He exited the vehicle on those words and silently unloaded her things, stacking them up on the small patio area next to her front door. Harley happily darted back and forth, following Bridger, then diverting to sniff the bushes.

  Bridger set the sack of dog food down on the step and retreated without saying anything. He got in the driver’s seat, started the SUV and backed out. Before pulling away, he stopped and rolled down his window. “You might have brought him back, Roxanne Rowland. It’s a damn shame because you’re right. I’m about the only one in the family who understands him—understands why he does what he does. And that makes me the only one who will stand for him when shit hits the fan. Take care of yourself.”

  Stunned, Roxie worked her mouth but no words came out. By the time they did, he was long gone.

  “That was not the same man you left home with, sugar britches.” The voice of her neighbor floated down from on high. “How many times have I told you that you come home with the one that brought you?”

  “Hi, Leo.” She sounded as deflated as she probably looked as she stepped closer to the parking lot so she could see him.

  Leo eyed her pile of belongings from his perch on his balcony. “Oh, honeybun.” He sighed. “Please don’t tell me that you blew your chance with that grade A prime piece of man.”

  “Okay. I won’t.”

  “Girl, I thought I taught you better. How did you manage to screw things up?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  Eighteen

  Roxanne stared into her coffee cup. How could she have been so totally wrong about Cash?

  “You’re giving up on him.” The chiding tone of Miz Beth’s voice whipped across her nerves like an electric wire. The woman had shown up on her doorstep and Roxie hadn’t known how to politely send her away.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  With her eyes closed, Roxie bent her head back in a vain attempt to ease her cramped neck muscles. “He threw me out, Miz Beth, and frankly? The things I’ve heard about what he did to his sisters-in-law?”

  “I thought better of you, Roxanne.”

  She tossed her hands up to emphasize her exaggerated shrug. “Why am I the bad guy here?”

  “Do you love him?” Miz Beth was relentless.

  “I don’t know. I thought I did, but after what he said about me, about us? I thought I knew him, Miz Beth, but I don’t know him at all.”

  “Neither do his brothers, or their wives.” The woman sniffed, her displeasure apparent.

  Roxanne was dismayed. “How can you defend him?”

  “Because I see what everyone else ignores.” Miz Beth settled into her chair. “I see the lonely boy who only wants to be loved.”

  “He has a funny way of looking for love.”

  “His brothers believe he is without remorse. Their wives think that not only are his actions despicable, but that he actually enjoyed hurting them.” Miz Beth’s gaze softened. “That boy feels far more and far deeper than the lot of ’em.”

  Confused, Roxanne worked through the meanings behind the older woman’s words—the woman who was his surrogate mother, the one who’d told Roxie not long ago that she loved every one of “her” boys. Everything she’d learned about Cash’s brothers pointed to the fact that they loved their wives, loved one another. Deeply. All four couples shared an abiding loyalty, with Cash standing on the outside. Like she and her family.

  “Right or wrong, Cash does what he does out of a sense of duty. He decided at some point that he has to protect them all. Sometimes from themselves, but more often than not from their father.”

  “Would Mr. Barron do something terrible to them?” Cyrus Barron was a force to be reckoned with but Roxie didn’t believe he’d actually carry out his threats on his own blood.

  Miz Beth sipped her coffee, and sadness settled around her like a shawl made of shadows. She ignored Roxie’s questions. “Those terrible things Cash has done? Would you like to know why he did them?”

  Roxanne nodded, her throat closing in reaction to the expression on Miz Beth’s face.

  “Because Cyrus Barron decreed they had to be done, and Cash took the tasks upon himself to save his brothers from having to do them.”

  “I...don’t understand.”

  “Everything Cash did, it was at Cyrus’s orders—orders he’d given to the other boys first. Cash stepped in and did the things his brothers couldn’t stomach, and he didn’t do it because he’s a bad man. He did it to shield his brothers from their father’s wrath. In fact, that boy has taken the brunt of it—from Cyrus and every last one of his brothers.”

  “Why would his father...? I’m not following, Miz Beth.”

  “Cyrus wants to control his sons. When Chance first defied him, that vile old man would have destroyed him. But Cash stepped in.”

  “So Chance didn’t have to—and...” Roxie’s brain whirled through the possibilities. “Chance would have destroyed any possibility of a relationship with Cassie.”

  “Precisely. I knew you were a smart one.” The woman pushed away from the table, stood and went to retrieve the coffee pot. Miz Beth refilled her cup, offering one to Roxanne, who shook her head. She wasn’t sure she could swallow around the lump in her throat.

  Miz Beth sighed. “They were all so angry at him.” Her soft humph was both sad and telling. “No one ever accused the Barrons of having easy tempers. Ever last one of ’em goes off like a firecracker. Cash wants his father to love him. He’s never figured out that it’s a lost cause like the other boys have. They got smart, decided it didn’t matter. But when Cyrus decided to stop his sons from falling in love, Cash stepped up to shield his brothers. Every time. Cash is the one who feels the duty to be a good son the most—no matter what terrible things Cyrus orders him to do.”

  “They’ve all but cut him out of their lives because of that, haven’t they?” T
hat knot clogging Roxanne’s throat grew bigger.

  Miz Beth’s eyes glistened with tears. “They may not mean to, but they do. Every day. In little ways. Ways they don’t realize, but he does. He feels their rejection. Those boys just... They broke his heart. He stood there in my kitchen, hiding from the rest of the family the night his own twin renewed his marriage vows in front of the whole family. Cash hadn’t been invited, had been told by Cord and Chance to stay away, given what he’d done in an attempt to break up Chase and Savannah.”

  Roxie had to blink her own tears away. “That’s...” She inhaled and exhaled in an attempt to ease the constriction in her chest. “I don’t know what it is.”

  “It’s sad and cruel. But he came, slipping in at the last minute. He stood in the shadows and listened and wished his brother well. And just as fast, he disappeared again. We had a big Christmas at the ranch but Cash wasn’t present. He wasn’t welcome in his own home. Then or now. I’ve seen him turn around and leave when he comes up the drive and sees one of the others is there.”

  “That’s...that’s just mean and...and...”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Roxanne. Cash isn’t an angel. Heck, none of those boys are. Cash, though? He listens to his father way too much, and while his actions are bad, his heart truly is in the right place—as he understands things. Trying to take Cassie’s inheritance. That whole custody kidnapping of CJ. Setting up Clay and then Chase so Georgie and Savannah thought their men were cheating on them. It wasn’t right. I think Cash knew that but his concept of right and wrong is skewed thanks to the old jackass who sired him.” Miz Beth dumped her coffee in the sink. “You have a lot of thinking to do, girl. And it’s a long drive back to the ranch.”

  The woman was right. Roxie did have a lot to consider. “Thanks for coming by, Miz Beth.”

  “Any time, sugar. Any time at all.”

  They’d reached the door when Miz Beth spoke again. “Roxanne, if ever a man needs to be loved—deserves to be loved, it’s Cashion Barron.”

  Those parting words played over and over in her mind. Cash deserved to be loved, and she did. She didn’t know exactly when, and sure couldn’t figure out how, given his prickly personality, but she loved him with all her heart.

  Nineteen

  Cash braked for the stoplight, angry that he couldn’t even enjoy lunch at Donovan’s without memories of Roxie intruding. His phone pinged and he checked the caller ID, then answered. “Hey, Bridger, did you get—”

  “Cash.” The dire tone of Bridger’s voice saying only his name had him maneuvering into the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant. He stopped haphazardly and shoved the Rover into Park.

  “What’s going on, Bridge?”

  “It’s...your father. I found him. In the parking garage. It’s bad, Cash. I couldn’t call before now. I was doing CPR.”

  CPR? Cash went cold but his skin prickled from nerves and dread. He couldn’t speak and Bridger filled in the silence.

  “Fire department got here fast. The ambulance just left. They’re taking him to the ER at OU Med Center. It... I’m sorry, Cash. They’re still doing CPR. The defibrillator didn’t get a blip when they zapped his heart. You need to meet me there. Okay?”

  “Okay.” The word came out flat, robotic. Cash couldn’t feel a thing.

  “I’ll call your brothers.”

  Something sparked in his brain, shoving aside his shock. “No. I should call. I’ll... I’m on Western. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Less.”

  “I can send someone to pick you up.” Concern coated his cousin’s voice.

  “No. I’m okay. I... I need to call Chase. The others. I’ll see you at the hospital.” He ended the call to Bridger, then scrolled through his contacts. He started at the top.

  Clay’s phone rolled over to voice mail. Cash managed to keep his voice level. “Clay, it’s about Dad. He’s at OU Med. I don’t know what happened. Bridger did CPR before they transported him. Probably his heart. I...thought you should know. Thought you might want to come.”

  He called Cord, got voice mail and left the same message. Ditto with Chance, but with each successive call, it was harder to keep his voice steady. Under normal circumstances, he would have called their administrative assistants, knowing they’d delegated contact with him to their employees. But this was far from normal and he couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that to his brothers. They might not want to talk to him, obviously didn’t want anything to do with him, but he would not tell them their father was most likely dying through the filter of an employee.

  Breathing became hard, his chest tight and aching. He didn’t love his father—not in the sense most sons did, but the man had sired him, raised him, taught him hard lessons. All he’d ever wanted was to have his father’s respect, his acceptance. Cash knew, deep down, that Cyrus Barron was incapable of loving anyone but himself, but Cash had always held out hope that someday, he’d do something to make his father proud.

  Cash had one more call to make. He punched the link for his twin. This time he got a live person, but not the one he wanted.

  “Cash. What’s up?”

  “I need to talk to Chase, Tucker. Please?” The last word came out as a plea.

  “He’s...busy. I can pass him your message.”

  Busy. His twin brother wouldn’t even talk to him. Cash closed his eyes, rubbed them with his fingers, ignoring the moisture dampening his fingertips. He’d never felt so isolated and alone in his life.

  “Cash? Is there a message?”

  “Tell him...tell him I...” He swallowed so many words that wouldn’t come out. What could he say? I’m sorry? Dad’s dying? I’m as big a bastard as our old man and maybe I should be the one the doctors are working on? I love you? He heard his cousin breathing. No help there. “Tell him Dad is at OU Med. I’m headed to the ER. It’s...not good. Bridger had to do CPR. I...thought everyone would want to know.”

  Silence. Yeah. No one in his family would give a rat’s ass that his father was in the ER, fighting for his life. His cousin’s lack of response was far more telling than any comment. “Sorry I bothered y’all, Tucker.”

  He ended the call, inhaled and held his breath until his hands stopped shaking enough that he could drive. Twenty-two minutes later, he walked into the ER. Bridger stood off to the side of the waiting room. For the biggest ER in the metro area, the place was almost eerily quiet. His cousin’s face pretty much said it all.

  “The doctors are working on him,” Bridger said as Cash walked up. “I have a security team coming. It’s just a matter of time before the media get wind of this.”

  Yeah. The media. Vultures of every stripe would be circling soon. “Your mom?”

  “I called her. She’s in Belize but headed home now.” Bridger waited a moment before adding, “Your brothers?”

  Seemingly of its own volition, Cash’s head bowed. He rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled, “I left voice mails. No one was answering. I did talk to Tucker. Chase—” His voice broke. “Chase was too busy.”

  Embarrassed by his lapse in control, Cash walked away. He had too much pent-up energy to sit, but pacing just drew unwanted attention. He dropped into a chair in the far corner of the ER waiting room and hunched over, his elbows resting on his thighs, head bowed. Wrapping his misery around him as if it would make him invisible, Cash stared at the floor and tried not to think.

  * * *

  Roxie stopped in the break room to refill her travel mug with coffee. Four coworkers stood staring at the TV mounted to the wall and she stopped to listen to the breaking news.

  “Oklahoma City billionaire Cyrus Barron was rushed to OU Medical Center ER this afternoon in unknown condition. Witnesses stated that a member of Mr. Barron’s security team found the businessman unconscious in the parking garage of Barron Tower and began CPR. A hospital spokeswoman will only confirm that Mr. Barron was admitted to the ER.” The perky blonde went on with her recitation but Roxie had tuned everything out.

  Mr. Barron was in the
ER? They’d done CPR? Cash. He’d be there all alone. She didn’t stop to think. Dumping her cup in the sink, Roxie whirled and headed for the exit. More people had gathered to watch the report, blocking her way, and the VP she reported to was already in crisis mode.

  “We’ll need to put a package together—photos and video of his life for media release. Contact Chase Barron or Tucker Tate. They’ll have the obit and other information.” He pointed at Roxie. “Good. You’re here. You can pull up the file documents faster than the rest of us—”

  “No.” Roxie had no idea where the strength to stand up to her boss came from but she was fairly vibrating with it. “I can’t. Get one of my assistants to do it. I have to go.”

  “Go?” The man looked flummoxed.

  “Cash. I have to get to the hospital.” He might not want to see her, would probably try to throw her out, but she was not going to let him sit there all alone waiting for word on his father. “I...sorry. I have to go,” she repeated.

  “They’re dating,” she heard someone explain as she ducked through the door and jogged toward the elevator. That wasn’t true. They’d never...dated. But when she’d been moved into his condo and he’d informed her bosses he needed her for a “special” project, they’d leaped to an obvious conclusion. They’d be horrified to discover that Cash had only wanted information about her family. Well, that and sex. What he hadn’t wanted was her falling in love with him. Too bad. For both of them.

  Roxie stopped in her office long enough to grab her purse and keys, then made the dash to the medical center complex on Lincoln Boulevard. She gave up on the ER parking lot, driving around to the garage complex on the back side of the hospital. All four local television stations had live remotes going outside the ER doors and two uniformed policemen stood just outside monitoring anyone going in or out. Knowing what she’d learned about Barron Security, Cash would have a team inside the ER to protect his family.

  She waited, watching people come and go for a few minutes. The police didn’t stop anyone unless they looked like media. She was fully prepared to lie her way inside, up to and including faking an injury or illness. Turned out, all she had to do was keep her head down and look puzzled at the reporters all doing live feeds. The officers gave her cursory glances, she dipped her head in acknowledgment of their presence and scurried through the automatic doors.