Her Last Second Chance: Christian Cowboy Romance (Last Chance Ranch Romance Book 4)

by Liz Isaacson

  “We should be playing somewhere,” he said. “I mean, why else would we be practicing every weekend?”

  “It’s just for fun,” Lance said.

  “Yeah, but the Halloween carnival was fun last year,” Dave said. “Right?” It was fun for Dave. As the lead singer, he’d gotten several phone numbers and several dates from the gig.

  “Yeah,” Lance said, his eye on a group of women across the diner.

  “Which one do you like?” Dave asked.

  “None of them,” Lance said, blinking and looking away. “So how many more times do you think I need to go to goat yoga before Amber will know I’m interested?”

  “Maybe just one more,” Dave said, laughing behind the words.

  “We’re in,” Cache said, returning to the booth. “Next weekend.” His grin stretched as wide as the sky, and Dave watched Lance roll his eyes.

  “All right,” Dave said. “Let’s go. I’m going to go hang out with Sissy now.” He had Cache drop him off at Sawyer’s house, and he knocked on the front door at the same time he opened it.

  The living room and kitchen were empty, and he paused. “Sissy?” he called.

  Footsteps pittered down the hall, and she wore a look of anxiety when she appeared. “Sh. I just got him to sleep.” Her stage whisper was easily as loud as her speaking in a regular voice.

  Dave touched his lips with his pointer finger and hooked his thumb over his shoulder. He turned and went back out onto the porch, encouraged when Sissy followed him, pulling the door almost all the way closed.

  She left it open an inch or two and sat on the top step beside him, slipping her arm through his. A sigh passed through her lips, and they gazed into the darkening sky.

  “So.” She leaned her face against his bicep. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

  “With me?” he repeated, his pulse tripping over itself the slightest bit.

  “I’m not stupid, Dave.”

  “I don’t think you are.” And Dave knew exactly what she was getting at. “Look, I like you.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head, feeling a sense of sweetness between them. “I like you a whole lot.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Dave tried to find a nice way to put the words in the right order. He couldn’t, and Sissy deserved an answer. “I haven’t forgiven you yet,” he whispered. “I’m trying, Sissy, honest I am.”

  Desperation rose in his throat. “I just need…I don’t know what I need.”

  She put her other hand on his and squeezed. “I understand.”

  “I don’t see how you can.” Dave felt like an island, alone in a wide sea. He’d experienced this lonely, lost feeling before, and he didn’t like it. He needed an anchor, something or someone to hold onto.

  “Maybe I don’t, then,” Sissy said, throwing him a life preserver. “But I’m not leaving this time, Dave. If you need more time, it’s yours. If you need me to apologize again, I will. If you need—”

  “I just need time to work some things out,” he said.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Okay,” he repeated, sweeping another kiss along her hairline.

  Now he just had to figure out how to forgive her before he lost her.

  Again.

  Chapter 11

  Sissy adjusted the necklace against her chest, making sure it laid exactly right. Dave should be arriving in minutes to get her, and she wanted every piece in place. Makeup. Jewelry. Clothes. Heels. Hair.

  Checkedy check check.

  She dressed up nice for work every day, but there was something special about taking a man to church. At least for her.

  In fact, she’d only ever sat by three men in a pew at church, and one of them had been Dave. Out of all the men she’d gotten serious with over the years, Dave had the most faith. Gray hadn’t wanted to go at all, but he’d obliged a few times and then said it just wasn’t for him.

  Sissy had known then there couldn’t be anything lasting between them.

  She felt the exact opposite about Dave, and when knocking sounded on the door, she jumped.

  Pressing one palm over her now pounding pulse, she took in a deep breath and looked into her own eyes. “He’s here,” she whispered to her reflection, as if she’d never seen Dave before.

  He’d confessed to her that he hadn’t forgiven her yet. Though it had only been just over twenty-four hours since that confession, she’d probably prayed a dozen times for him to forgive her. For God to soften his heart and allow him to be able to see a future with her, right here at Last Chance Ranch.

  “Sissy?” he called, and she left her bedroom and clicked her way down the hall to the living room.

  “Hey,” she said, putting a smile on her face. He looked great in gray slacks and a white shirt, a purple, blue, and black tie knotted perfectly at his neck. And that cowboy hat. It was different than the one he wore around the ranch, but she sure liked the deep, rich black color.

  “Nice place,” he said. “This is a cute neighborhood too.”

  “Cute,” she said, grinning at him fully now. “And don’t be too impressed. I pay a housekeeper and a gardener.”

  “Well, they do a great job.” He kept his eyes on her as she moved closer to him. “Ready?”

  “Yep.”

  He led her out to his truck, and she’d at least learned not to wear such a tight skirt when she needed to climb into the black behemoth of a vehicle. Today, she wore a long maxi dress with bright gold and yellow flowers on the black fabric. It allowed her to move and didn’t have to be so perfectly positioned to keep her covered up.

  She slid across the seat while he rounded the front of the truck, so when he got in, they sat thigh-to-thigh.

  It was a short drive to the church at the bottom of the bluff where most of the cowboys attended, and Sissy held Dave’s hand as they joined the people walking inside the building. She’d first come here because Scarlett had recommended it.

  She’d stayed because Pastor Williams prepared great messages that spoke to her soul more often than not.

  Her thoughts felt a little scattered today, though, especially when she caught sight of a group of women loitering in the lobby. Sissy didn’t know them personally, but she and her girlfriends at Scooter’s had kept track of everyone Dave had been out with.

  And he’d been out with all four of them.

  “Ladies,” he said, tipping his hat at them as he went past, seemingly without a care in the world. Her smile, however, slipped and disappeared under the weight of the glaring.

  “Hostile,” she whispered to Dave once they’d made it several feet past the women.

  “Oh, it’s just Thea,” he whispered back. “She liked me more than I liked her.”

  “I think they all did,” she whispered.

  “Nah.” He dipped his mouth closer to her ear. “Margaret said no when I asked her out for the second time.”

  “Really?” She twisted further into him, and he lifted his arm over her shoulders. “Then why did she spear me with that nasty look?”

  “She’s Thea’s best friend.”

  “And you dated both of them.” Sissy shook her head, trying not to smile. She knew why he’d gone out with so many people, and she actually liked that he’d tried to find someone to replace her and had failed.

  “‘Dated’ is too strong of a word,” he said. “I went out with Margaret once. And Lizzie once. And Sara—we didn’t even go out. I talked to her at the carnival last year and we rode the Ferris wheel together.”

  “Totally a date,” Sissy said, focusing on the choir as they came out in their emerald green robes.

  “You think so?”

  “Did you buy her something? A drink or a funnel cake or something?”

  “Yeah, popcorn and lemonade.”

  “Date,” Sissy said, enjoying this whispered game of back and forth.

  “Huh,” he said. “I had no idea.”

  “She probably wanted you to ask her out again, and
you didn’t, so she’s upset about that.”

  “Wrong,” he said, sending chills racing across her skin from his breath. “I did ask her out, and she said no. If anyone should be giving someone crusty glares, it’s me, to them.”

  “Good job for taking the higher road.”

  Dave chuckled then, burying his face in her hair. Sissy sat very still and straight, attraction spraking through her like a live wire. She smiled and nudged him when the choir began belting out their rendition of Joy to the World.

  “Oh, geez,” Dave muttered. “Someone needs to tell Julianne that it’s not Christmas anymore.”

  “I like it,” Sissy said, standing up with everyone else in the congregation. “It’s very festive.”

  Dave stood beside her, silent, with his hands tucked in the pockets of those slacks. Wow, he was handsome when he wasn’t wearing jeans. Handsome when he was. Always so handsome.

  Please help him forgive me, she prayed again, an extra burst of gladness hopping through her when Pastor Williams stood behind the microphone and said, “Wasn’t that a great song? It’s always good to be reminded of the birth of the Savior who we emulate. One thing Jesus was very good at, and that we need to get good at, is forgiveness.”

  After church, Sissy wanted to burst, the words in her throat threatening to come out all at once. But she wanted Dave to bring up the subject and say what he thought first. So she sat on her hands all the way back to her house and let him help her down from his truck.

  He kept his hands on her waist, his head tipped down within kissing distance. His big black hat would even conceal them from any nosy neighbors who might be watching. The reason her neighborhood was so cute was because the average age was fifty-five.

  The women here loved tending to their lawns and flowerbeds, making bread, and visiting impromptu-style in the street after work.

  Sissy loved it, but she couldn’t believe she was thinking about her neighborhood while gazing up into Dave’s eyes.

  “What did you think of that?” he asked.

  “It was great,” she said, smiling. “What about you?”

  “It’s a lot to think about.” He dropped his hands and fell back a step. “Easier to say than actually do.” He waited for her to move out of the doorway, and then he closed the truck door and laced his fingers through hers again.

  He didn’t seem to have anything else to say, and Sissy sobered too. They walked up the sidewalk to her front door, and she bent to retrieve a loaf of bread wrapped in a brown bag. “Bread.” Her voice held pure delight as she looked up and down the street.

  No one appeared to take credit for the bread, but she knew who’d made it. Janis Gunderson, the little old lady who lived three houses down. It had probably taken her thirty minutes to walk down the street and back, and Sissy made a mental note to be sure to thank her later.

  She tucked the bread under her arm and led Dave inside, the scent of the pork roast she’d put in the slow cooker before church filling the house.

  “Lunch will just be a few minutes,” she said, moving into the kitchen. She didn’t particularly enjoy cooking, but she could put a decent meal together. Protein. Carb. Vegetable. If one of those came from a bag or a can, so be it.

  And now she had the homemade bread, so lunch would be a huge success. She got the pot of water boiling for the potatoes and she opened the two cans of creamed corn and added one of regular niblets too. Butter, salt, sour cream, and the creamed corn was almost homemade.

  Dave sat at her bar, his gaze somewhere besides the room. She peeled potatoes in the silence, wishing she had something wise to tell him. Wishing he’d gotten the answer he needed.

  He’d asked for time, and Sissy didn’t want to steal that from him. Eventually, lunch was ready, and she lined everything up on the counter in front of him. “Pork,” she said as if he couldn’t identify the meat. “You can make a sandwich out of it, if you want. Janis is amazing in the kitchen.” She indicated the bread. “Creamed corn. Mashed potatoes.” She looked at the food, thinking her mother would be proud.

  Her mom and dad had divorced when Sissy was fifteen and still had two sisters to take care of. She’d had to help a lot at home, and she’d often wondered if that was why she’d freaked out when she and Dave had gotten engaged. Like maybe she felt robbed of a few years of innocence and no responsibility, and she wanted to experience the world before she had to be responsible again.

  No matter what, her relationship with her mother had been strained since then, because she’d loved Dave and didn’t understand why Sissy was willing to give him up so she could go sailing and scuba diving.

  Sissy didn’t want to regret everything she’d done over the years, so she pushed the thoughts away and looked at Dave. He watched her, and she realized he must’ve asked her something.

  “Did you say something?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You were thinking hard about something.”

  “It was nothing.” She didn’t want to get into her mommy issues right now. Dave wouldn’t know about them, as her mom had been antagonistic toward Sissy’s life choices after he’d been cut from the picture.

  “Let’s eat,” she said. “You still like meat, right?”

  He chuckled, got up, and came around the bar. “I still like meat, yes.” Dave swept his arms around her, bringing her close to his chest, right against his heartbeat.

  Sissy tried not to melt right into him. Tried, and failed. He was everything she’d ever wanted—she just hadn’t realized it until very recently. A sense of helplessness filled her, and she swallowed against her emotions.

  She wouldn’t cry because he wasn’t ready to take the next step. Last time, they’d always been on the same page. Taken the same steps at the same time.

  This time, all she seemed to be able to think about was that baby in the house at the entrance of the ranch, and how loud her biological clock was ticking. She’d never spent any time as a teenager fantasizing about her wedding, and the moment Dave said he loved her, she’d marry him.

  Fear gripped her heart and squeezed—hard. She wasn’t in love with Dave. Was she? Yes, she liked him a whole lot, as he’d said. She wanted to kiss him. But marriage?

  Gotta be married to have babies, she thought. Of course, she knew some people didn’t, but she also knew that her values were the same as Dave’s, and they’d need to be married before they had a baby.

  “Hey,” he said, his husky, tender voice reaching into her thoughts and drawing her out. “What’s going on today?”

  “Nothing.” She reached for a plate, her arms getting a bit tangled with his.

  “I’ve asked you a question, and you didn’t answer. Again.” He took the plate and set it back down. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

  Sissy swallowed, holding back the only thing she’d been thinking about for a while now—besides kissing Dave.

  “Babies,” she blurted, thinking of the article she’d read that confirmed it was just as safe to birth at baby at fifty as forty. “I’m thinking about how much I want to have a baby.”

  Chapter 12

  Dave had no idea what to say. He wasn’t sure if he’d forgiven Sissy all the way, though the sermon today, with her hand tucked neatly into his, had helped. He’d seen her with the baby, and he decided on the spot that he didn’t need to have every duck in the row. Every detail worked out.

  He took her in his arms again and hoped she was paying attention now. Because he was going to kiss her. She realized it just in time to take in a deep breath, and then his lips brushed hers, experimenting, testing.

  She tasted like butter, as if she’d tasted the corn or the mashed potatoes before setting them on the table. A moan started somewhere in the back of his stomach, because kissing her was still the most wonderful thing in the whole world.

  He moved his hands to her face, wanting to experience her with every sense as she continued to kiss him back.

  He wasn’t sure how long he stood there kissing her, but she eventually duc
ked her head and broke their connection. Dave kept his eyes closed as he steadied his breathing, listening to her breathe in and out, in and out.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “For taking so long to do that.” He stepped back and wiped his palms down the front of his slacks. “This looks great.”

  Sissy still said nothing as she picked up her plate and started putting food on it.

  “That’s it?” he asked, wondering if he’d forgotten how to kiss a woman properly.

  Sissy set her plate down slowly and faced him. Her dark eyes blazed with fire and passion, and she stretched up and kissed him again.

  Maybe he hadn’t forgotten how. She certainly kissed him like she liked him, and Dave let her take the lead this time.

  She pulled away much sooner than he did and touched her forehead to his. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t like that she was thanking him for kissing her, but he wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. “Why?” he asked.

  “I’m assuming you found some way to forgive me.”

  “Getting there,” he said, picking up his own plate and grabbing a slice of that homemade bread. “So you’re thinking about having a baby.”

  “Yeah,” she said, focusing on the food. “I mean, I sort of told you that already. We’ve talked about how I want the house, the husband, the family.”

  “Well, yeah,” he said. “I guess I just didn’t realize you wanted it all right now.”

  “I told you I was getting older to be having children.”

  “Yeah, but then Adele got pregnant….” He let the words hang there, not quite sure why he’d thought Sissy could have babies too. But he did see the hope shining in her face, and he felt the feather-light wings lift him up too.

  “Yeah,” she said. “But it’s fine. I mean, we’ve only been dating for a month.”

  “I knew after a month last time,” he said, and Sissy jerked her attention to him, slopping creamed corn over the edge of her plate.

  “What?”

  Dave chuckled, but it held a hint of darkness in the undercurrent. “I knew after a month last time,” he said again. They both knew how last time had worked out, and his heart begged him not to kiss Sissy again, not to risk everything for this woman all over again.