Coulda Been a Cowboy

by Brenda Novak

  “I went running.” He carried the phone back with him to get Braden.

  “How’s the knee?”

  “Not bad.” Not great, either, but Tyson still hoped for the best. “What’s up?”

  “I have some positive news.”

  Tyson perched Braden on his hip as he went back into the house and filled his water bottle, which he’d drained on the long, exhausting run. “Rachelle has recanted?” he said sarcastically.

  “No…”

  “Then what?”

  “One of the waitresses at the restaurant where you met Rachelle, a girl by the name of Mindy, is going to be a big help to us.”

  “How?”

  “She said she heard Rachelle bragging that she’d met you and that you were coming back to get her after her shift.”

  Tyson let Braden down to crawl around while he took another drink of water. “What does that prove?”

  “I’m not finished yet. Are you ready for this?”

  At the excitement in Greg’s voice, Tyson slowly lowered the arm that held the water bottle. He could barely breathe. “More than ready.”

  “Rachelle told her she was going to ‘ride you all night long.’”

  He blinked, hesitant to hope for too much. “You’re kidding.”

  “Isn’t that great? It proves that she wanted to get in the sack with you, man, that she planned on it before you could even approach her.”

  Tyson stared out the window at the dappled sunshine and pine trees, his heart beating faster than when he was running. “You think that’ll be enough?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but I know things just got a hell of a lot better for our side. I’ve already called Howard. With that kind of news, he said he could give us a few more days to iron this out. And if you keep Strive, you’ll keep most of your other endorsements. They’ve been waiting, following Strive’s lead.”

  Tyson thought about reclaiming the peace and confidence he’d experienced before Rachelle. Was it possible? Could this whole thing simply go away? He’d still have Braden, of course. There was no going back that far. But somehow having a son didn’t seem as bad as it had before. “Wow,” he said. “That’s incredible.”

  “It is incredible. We’re back in business, big guy. It’s only a matter of time before this nightmare is over. I’m taking Mindy’s statement to the police right now. I think the D.A.’s going to want to see it before he decides whether or not to press charges.”

  “That detective…Donaldson? He’s not going to want to let go of this.”

  “Fortunately he’s not the one who decides.”

  Tyson nodded as all the ramifications of this latest development sank in. He wouldn’t have to start the season under the terrible cloud of suspicion that hovered over him now. The media fervor would die down, and he could focus on improving the strength and mobility of his injured knee.

  And finding a good man for Dakota, of course. But that suddenly seemed easier, too, now that he was about to shake loose of his other problems. He’d been happy before, right? He’d simply go back to the way things were.

  Smiling in unadulterated relief, he called Quentin Worrack to make sure he was still coming to the party. Tyson wasn’t sure why he’d told Dakota that Quentin’s mother was so meddlesome. Now that he really thought about it, Mrs. Worrack didn’t seem all that bad.

  * * *

  WHAT WAS THIS?

  Dakota took the Dundee Pharmacy bag from her dresser at the cabin and sat on her bed as she sorted through it. Fingernail clippers. Chap Stick. Nail files. Ponytail holders. Toothpaste. Deodorant.

  Where had all this stuff come from? Mrs. Cottle sometimes encouraged Dakota to help herself to a few essentials from the drugstore—as a benefit of working there—but Dakota couldn’t imagine her employer had sent home a bunch of personal hygiene items, especially with Tyson. So what did that mean? That Tyson had bought them?

  When she’d come down the hall, she’d peeked around the corner and noticed that his door was open a crack, too, which meant he was probably awake. But she’d wanted to change her clothes before letting him know she was back. When they’d gone to the doctor’s earlier, her father had accidentally burned a hole in the sleeve of her blouse with his cigarette while she was trying to help him get back into the car, and she was exhausted and wanted to get comfortable.

  Returning the drugstore items to the dresser, she shed her clothes in favor of a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, planning to go to bed as soon as she made sure Braden and Tyson were okay. Tyson had left several messages on her home recorder while she was in Boise, but he hadn’t picked up when she tried to return his call, so she’d hurried back to the cabin instead of staying another night with her father. She figured he must’ve been having trouble with Braden and needed her.

  A quick check of the baby’s room seemed to confirm that. Braden wasn’t there.

  “Oh, boy,” she muttered and hurried to Tyson’s room.

  “Come in,” he called when she knocked.

  She stepped inside to find him propped up in bed, wearing only a pair of basketball shorts. She could smell the dampness of a recent shower, could see that Tyson’s hair was still wet. And Braden was lying on Tyson’s bare chest, fast asleep.

  Tyson himself seemed perfectly relaxed, which only added to Dakota’s confusion. What was going on? Why had he been so eager to reach her? And if Braden was asleep, why hadn’t Tyson put him in his crib? He always handed off the baby to her as soon as possible.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked uncertainly.

  Tyson grinned. “Better than okay.”

  Obviously something had happened while she was gone. “What does better than okay mean?”

  “Greg called earlier.”

  “That’s your agent, right?”

  “Yeah.” Tyson shifted, being careful not to wake Braden. “He thinks the whole Rachelle issue will soon be a thing of the past.”

  “How?”

  “She happened to tell another waitress at the restaurant where she worked just what she wanted from me.”

  “Money?”

  His expression turned a little self-conscious. “Not that part.”

  “What other part is there?”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Never mind.”

  “Tell me. What’d she say?”

  “That she…wanted to…you know, have some fun.”

  It wasn’t often that Dakota saw Tyson at a loss for words. Fortunately she was beginning to catch on. “You mean put another notch on her bedpost?”

  He chuckled. “You are so old-fashioned.”

  “You’re the one who couldn’t say it.”

  “I just figured you wouldn’t want to hear it.”

  True, Dakota thought. Which was why she focused on working through the implications of this new development. “That should help convince people you didn’t force her. But what’s to stop her from claiming she changed her mind once you guys reached your place, and you wouldn’t let her? You know Donaldson will believe whatever she says.”

  “Hey, are you trying to ruin my night?” He side-armed a pillow at her, which caused Braden to readjust his position. “It’s the first good news I’ve had. I’m celebrating here.”

  Dakota managed a contrite expression. “Oh, right. Well, maybe she’s not that smart. Anyway, it’s a start, huh?”

  His smile softened. “Yeah, it’s a start. I feel high even though I haven’t had a single drink.”

  She knew how badly the scandal had embarrassed and hurt Tyson, was pleased that the newspapers might not feel quite so free to characterize him as a predator in the future. “You want me to put Braden in his crib?” she asked, moving to the bed. She wanted to lift the baby into her own arms. She’d missed him, so much that it worried her. What was she going to do when Tyson took him and went back to L.A.?

  He shook his head. “No, he’s okay for now.”

  Another surprise.

  “How’d it go at the doctor’s?”
he asked.

  Dakota thought about the time she’d spent with Skelton. They’d enjoyed themselves, almost like old times. He hadn’t even tried to make her feel guilty about leaving him to come back to the cabin, as he had in the previous two weeks. Hadn’t balked when Terrance showed up. But he was ill. There was no getting around that. “Okay, I guess. He doesn’t look good, and he doesn’t feel good, but the doctor insisted he’s no worse off than before.”

  “I hope the trip brought you some peace of mind, at least.”

  “It did. A little.”

  “How’d the car run?”

  “Rough.”

  “We’ve got to find you another car.”

  He said this more to himself than to her, but she didn’t want him to feel responsible for helping her. “Someday. For now I think I’ll get the oil changed.” She grinned. “Thanks for the paycheck.”

  “I owed it to you.” His attention shifted back to the television. “Have you ever seen The Last Samurai?”

  On TV, Tom Cruise was wearing a kimono and watching himself do a kata. “No. Is it good?”

  “One of my favorites.” He motioned to a spot next to him. “Watch it with me.”

  She perched on the edge of the bed, hesitant to get too close for fear she’d forget everything she’d learned about herself over the past few days. “I found some interesting objects on my dresser,” she said, still curious to learn where they’d come from.

  He didn’t glance away from the television. “I bought that stuff earlier, thought you might be able to use it.”

  “Ponytail holders, razors and deodorant? Are you trying to tell me something?” she joked.

  When his eyes met hers, he was more serious than she expected. “Only that I care about you.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Maybe he cared, but not enough. What he’d said before was evidence that his visit to Dundee hadn’t made much of an impact on his life—that it had been nothing more than a voluntary time-out—while it had changed everything for her. Her world post-Tyson would never be the same.

  “Thanks,” she murmured and stood up before that meager offering could entice her into forgetting that “caring” wasn’t love. “So…now you’re all set for when you go back, eh?”

  “Yeah.” Lowering the volume on the television, he fiddled with the blanket. “Will you be going with me?”

  “Even if I didn’t have my father to worry about, I don’t think that would be good for either one of us, do you?”

  He seemed to think about it for a moment. “Sometimes I can’t imagine leaving you behind.”

  “And other times?”

  “I realize that I need to focus if I want to play football this year. I have to overcome a knee injury, adjust to being a father, repair my public image and salvage what I can of my endorsements. And I won’t be able to concentrate on all that if I’m wondering what to do about you.”

  “What to do about me?” she echoed.

  “When and if I should move on. How to do it without hurting you. What to do if I can’t move on as easily as I have in the past. All of it.”

  “I see. Well, I wouldn’t want to distract you from what really matters,” she said and walked out.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Grandpa Garnier: No matter who says what, don’t believe

  it if it don’t make sense.

  TYSON WAS STILL FEELING euphoric when Friday rolled around and the party began. Taxi after taxi had delivered friends he hadn’t seen for weeks—in some cases months. And he’d just received word that the police wouldn’t be pressing charges against him. Mindy’s statement might not have been enough had Rachelle been content with arguing as Dakota guessed she might—simply claiming she’d changed her mind about sleeping with him and he’d refused to take no for an answer. But if she’d considered that easy lie, she hadn’t been willing to rely on it. When she heard about Mindy’s statement, she arranged a meeting with her old colleague, where she promised Mindy a tidy sum to change her story—a bribe Mindy recorded and turned over to police.

  Tyson didn’t know Mindy very well, but he was eternally grateful for her help and honesty. He’d sent her a gigantic bouquet of flowers as a thank-you because that tape did what nothing else could. Even Detective Donaldson had to admit Rachelle wasn’t the injured party she pretended to be. It was the detective’s call that dotted the i in victory for Tyson. Greg had been the first to pass along the good news, but Donaldson had called shortly afterward and offered Tyson a rather contrite apology, which was big of him considering his arrogance during their meeting.

  The only thing really bothering Tyson now was the way Dakota was acting. After that night in his room when she’d walked out, she’d thrown herself into cooking a gazillion side dishes for the upcoming barbecue and taking care of Braden, but she’d been avoiding him the whole time. If Tyson got in the Jacuzzi, she went to bed. If he went to bed, she got in the Jacuzzi. If he worked out, she stayed clear of the gym and cleaned the kitchen. If he handled calls and paperwork in Gabe’s office, she worked out.

  Even tonight. Especially tonight. Tyson had invited Hannah and Gabe to the party, but they were expecting their oldest son home for a visit and had offered to keep Braden overnight at their place instead. They wanted Dakota to relax and enjoy herself without any distractions, they said, and she seemed to be taking advantage of the opportunity. Every time Tyson looked at her, she was smiling and laughing with someone else. She was dancing a lot, too. They’d pushed the furniture to the edges of the living room to create a dance floor.

  “It appears your nanny is having a good time.”

  Tyson turned to see that Elaine had walked up behind him. The girlfriend of one of his best buddies, Hank Chapman, the center on the team, she was easygoing and affable, well-liked by the whole group. She was perceptive, too, judging by what she carried in her hands.

  “How’d you know I wanted a beer?”

  “It wasn’t your thirst that brought me over.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re staring.”

  “I’m what?”

  She took a drink from her own frosty bottle, then tipped it toward the dancers. “It’s true. When you’re not flipping burgers outside, you’re watching Dakota as if someone might throw a bag over her head and carry her off.”

  Evidently, he’d been feeling so good about everything else that he’d dropped his guard where Dakota was concerned. “I just want to be sure she’s comfortable,” he said. “She doesn’t know anyone here but me. Gabe and his wife couldn’t come.”

  “She seems to be fitting in.”

  They both watched as Quentin Worrack asked Dakota to dance—for the third time. Quentin teased her by swinging her around before going into an old-fashioned dip, and for the first time, Tyson realized that Dakota had lost even more weight. Or maybe it was those distracting jeans and that top he’d bought her, doing a little too much to set off her newly improved figure. If he’d thought she looked sexy in the shop, she looked downright scandalous in a crowded room. None of the other women had her earthy beauty, and the guys certainly noticed. Although there were other women wearing much more revealing clothes, Tyson knew he wasn’t the only one having a hard time keeping his eyes off the cleavage showing above the gray lace of Dakota’s undershirt.

  “You think she likes Quentin?” he asked above music playing so loud the whole house pulsed to the rhythm.

  “What do you want to hear?” Elaine replied with a laugh.

  “Yes,” he lied. “I’m trying to set them up.”

  Confusion clouded Elaine’s eyes. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “No. They’re perfect for each other.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s ready for marriage and babies. She’s ready for the same thing.”

  “And you’re not—is that it?”

  He stretched his neck, feeling a little uncomfortable. “I’ve already got Braden, of course, but I’m not feeling particula
rly domestic.”

  “Marriage could interfere with football.”

  He took a pull from his beer. “A lot of guys who play football are married, and they do fine. I just can’t picture myself settling down at this point, that’s all.”

  “You’re afraid of the commitment.”

  Tyson wanted to deny that he had such a typical “guy” phobia, but he couldn’t. “I’ve never met anyone I want to spend the rest of my life with,” he said simply. “That’s a big decision.”

  “Too big for you to ever make?”

  “I’ve been in enough relationships to see how the passion and desire to be together fades with time.”

  She studied him. “God, I’m glad I’m in love with Hank and not you,” she said.

  “I’m being realistic.”

  “You’re being cynical.”

  “Maybe I’ve been hanging around Greg too long.”

  “But you like her,” Elaine said.

  “Sure, I like her.”

  “How much?”

  “What do you mean? I want her to find the right guy, someone she can love and be happy with.”

  “You’re sure.”

  He smiled as confidently as possible. “I’m positive.”

  She shrugged. “Okay. I think I can help you out. The guy we brought with us? Hank’s friend from high school?”

  Tyson’s eyes focused on a man he’d spoken with earlier, who was across the room. Tall, with dark hair and blue eyes, he looked as pretty as some of the women. “Joe Something or Other right? You’ve brought him to other parties.”

  “Joe Beck.” Elaine toasted the object of their conversation, and Joe tilted his head in acknowledgment.

  “What about him?”

  “He thinks Dakota’s beautiful, would love to spend some time getting to know her.”

  Tyson nearly told her that they’d never be right for each other, but caught himself before the words came out, knowing he wouldn’t have an answer if she responded with a why? “He hasn’t even asked her to dance,” he said, attempting to make idle, unconcerned conversation.