by Tessa Gray
As he led her from the shower, she agonized over how to tell him she was hadn’t renewed her teaching contract in Alpine, and come fall, she’d probably be moving back to Dallas.
Tears welled up as she considered how best to tell him she was leaving. He’d take the news hard.
Chapter 3
Early the next morning, Jake sat at the computer, tracking his profit margin. As he went over the spreadsheets from the business, he cringed. Things were worse than he’d thought.
To some, the bar he’d run for the past twelve years probably didn’t seem like much, but it was all he had. Everything he’d ever worked for was right here. The thought of losing it terrified him.
Rachel strode into their bedroom, a frown on her face. “We’re about to eat breakfast. Why are you holed up at the computer like this?”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
She placed her hands on his shoulders and stared at the computer screen. “Whatever it is you’re looking at must be awfully interesting.”
“Not half as interesting as you were last night in the shower.” Rubbing the back of her legs, he began flirting, hoping they could pick up where they left off. “Last night was amazing, Dallas. When your parents leave tomorrow, how about if we spend the rest of the day in bed?”
She gazed at him—a long, lingering gaze but suddenly moved away from him. “We probably shouldn’t keep my parents waiting.”
He was just about to grope her when her father’s voice bellowed, “Hey, you two. I’ve nearly finished cooking the eggs.”
“We’d better head back out there.” Grabbing his hand, she led him to the kitchen.
They barely made it to the table when Barbara handed him a cup of coffee. “Here you go, Jake. I know how you love your coffee in the morning.”
“Thanks, Barbara.” He waited for Rachel’s mother to sit down before flopping down on the chair directly across from her.
“You’re most welcome.” Barbara smiled before continuing. “How are things at your bar? Is business going well?”
“It’s been better. Lots of folks have started going to The Blue Depot because they have entertainment over there. To be honest, it’s a pretty cool place. Rachel and I went there the other night.”
“Have you ever thought of hiring a band to keep up with the competition?” She folded her arms, as though pleased she’d given the suggestion.
In many ways, she was a lot like Rachel—always full of ideas. Rachel had offered advice on growing his business on more than one occasion.
Tim dished up the eggs, and they all began eating. Hopefully, there would be no more talk about his floundering business. Between Rachel and her mother, Jake had all the advice he could stomach regarding how to turn his business around.
He could hardly wait for the Donohues to leave. When they did, he’d finally have Rachel all to himself.
~ ~ ~
Tim Donohue studied Jake thoughtfully. On one level he could see why his daughter had fallen for this West Texas cowboy who looked like someone you’d see on the cover of GQ. But, as he thought of how this guy shrugged off everyone’s advice about how to run his business, he realized his daughter wasn’t the only one with a stubborn streak.
After what Barbara had told him last night about how frustrated Rachel was about her career and personal life, Tim had suggested they leave right after breakfast today and forget about seeing the legendary Marfa Lights.
The four sat at the breakfast table when Barbara broke the news that they’d be leaving. “Tim and I have decided to skip the Marfa Lights tonight. We’ll be leaving right after breakfast.”
When he saw the smirk on Jake’s face, he suspected the comment pleased Rachel’s boyfriend. The tall cowboy moved closer to Rachel, draping his arm about her. He never took his eyes off her as he spoke. “We’re very sorry to hear that, aren’t we, Rachel?”
Sitting motionless in her chair, Rachel nodded. Tim watched his daughter for several seconds, wondering if somehow she’d lost herself out here on the West Texas prairie. Her demeanor had changed significantly in the past twelve hours. He replayed what Barbara had told him about the conversation the two women had. Barbara should have never made that remark about Rachel being ill-suited to a profession other than teaching. Knowing his eldest daughter, she’d taken it to heart. He could see it in her eyes.
When Barbara left to pack the rest of their things, Rachel followed her, giving him and Jake the chance to talk privately. Neither spoke for a minute, but eventually Tim decided to clear the air.
“I’m sorry the business isn’t doing well, Jake. Several of my buddies live in small towns, just like this and have similar problems. One of them really managed to turn things around. He did quite a bit of advertising and built a website. Eventually, it paid off. I’d be happy to give you his personal information. Maybe he could help you come up with—”
“Thanks for the offer, Tim, but I’ll be just fine. It’s only a matter of time before things turn around for me.” Picking up one of the plates on the draining rack, Jake dried it vigorously. “I generally like to do things my own way.”
Initially he’d felt sad for Jake, aware that Rachel was probably going to end up breaking the guy’s heart. But as the West Texas cowboy bustled about the kitchen, putting the dishes away, it was obvious he liked to do things on his own terms. A man didn’t get far if the only advice he took was advice he gave himself.
His instincts had been right. Jake Crenshaw wasn’t the right guy for his daughter.
~ ~ ~
Rachel paced the floor, waiting for Jake to return. He’d headed to the bar before her parents left, and she wondered what had provoked his sudden departure. Had he and Daddy had words while she’d helped Mama pack?
Her parents had left thirty minutes ago, and she could only imagine the conversation Mama and Daddy were having in the car about their visit.
A chill swept through her as she realized how disappointed her parents must be. And before the day ended, she’d be disappointing Jake, as well.
She glanced about the house, studying the western-style furniture. When she’d first moved in with Jake, they’d both agreed to update his place. They’d even gone shopping to look at more contemporary furniture. The drab, dark paneling in Jake’s adobe house desperately needed an update.
Initially, she’d been thrilled at the prospect of redesigning the house. But as time marched on, he expressed less interest in fixing up the place. A year into the relationship, she’d abandoned the notion of redecorating altogether.
A homemade afghan Nathan Wainwright’s mother had knitted for Jake over two decades ago was haphazardly strewn about the couch. Although the vibrant jewel tones in the afghan didn’t complement the powder blue sofa, he’d always insisted Elizabeth Wainwright’s creation be the centerpiece of the living room.
The front door flew open and Jake strode in. His dark eyes twinkled, and he looked as though he was up to something.
“You seem in a good mood.”
“Damn straight. We finally have the house to ourselves. No offense to your parents.” He swaggered toward her, a smirk crawling up his face.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and she broke eye contact with him, staring outside. Maybe she should put off telling him. He appeared to be in an upbeat mood and she hated to spoil things.
No. She needed to tell him now. If she didn’t, the two would just end up in bed together. And that would accomplish nothing.
“Jake, I have something I need to tell you.”
He rubbed the small of her back with his hand, guiding her over to the sofa. When she sat down, he flopped down beside her. “Before you say a word, Dallas, I’ve got something I need to tell you. Whatever you have to say can wait.”
That was the thing she liked least about Jake—that he
always considered what he had to say was more important. But, since she was in no rush to tell him she planned to leave, she leaned against the back of the sofa and let him continue. “Okay, you go first.”
“After I got to work, I thought a lot about all the suggestions you’ve made about decorating the bar. I finally decided to take your advice. I’m going to let you help me update the place. Since business sucks right now, I figure, what have I got to lose?”
So, he’d waited until his business nearly failed to take her advice. That was comforting.
Staring at the floor, she finally found the words to tell him.
~ ~ ~
Rachel stood with her arms crossed, a serious expression on her face. “I’ve not been happy for a long time, Jake—a very long time.”
He stared at her, stunned by the remark. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
A peal of thunder rumbled across the sky, and he glared at her, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
“I’ve decided to move back to Dallas. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
“You’ve been thinking about it for a while, and you’re just now getting around to mentioning it?” He could feel his face heating as he considered how she’d kept something this important from him.
“I didn’t want to bring it up, given all the problems you’ve had with the business.” The color in her face had drained, and she looked as though she was going to be sick.
“Don’t you think we should sit down and talk about this? You’re always insisting that we talk things out. Here’s your chance.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Jake. I’ve already made up my mind.” The golden flecks in her eyes lit up suddenly, and her face had gotten back its color. She looked almost confident as she stood facing him, her hands on her hips.
He felt like a rodeo rider hurled from a bull, his guts being ripped out by a barbed wire fence. “I-I can’t believe that after all we’ve been through, you’re up and leaving like this.”
“I’m sorry, Jake.”
“Have you told the school your plans, or are you going to surprise them like you did me?”
He looked away, intent on not making a complete fool of himself. Taking a deep breath, he made the decision to play things down—to act as though this wasn’t a big deal. Because that’s how a person did things when their entire world crumbled. They played it cool. He knew the drill. He’d practiced it every fucking time his dad left town to go on another drinking binge—every time his mother decided to ‘find herself’ and dump him off at the Wainwrights.
“I guess this means we won’t be fuck buddies anymore.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she bowed her head. “You know I detest that term. That’s not what our relationship was about.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Rach. The truth was I knew what we had would only last for a while. We’ve both had a pretty good run with this. We’re good in bed together, and that’s about it. To read any more into it would be stupid.”
She was blinking back tears now, but he refused to let her get to him. “Jake, I’ll always care about you.”
Unwillingly to listen to her droning on and on—making up a bunch of excuses about why she was leaving—he barreled over to the door. “I’m going out for a while. Start packing your bags. I want you out of here by the time I get back.”
She stumbled over to where he stood, her arms outstretched. “Jake, please—I wasn’t prepared to leave just yet. And really, I-I can’t find another place this quickly.”
“The Antelope Lodge rents by the week. They always have plenty of rooms available. I’ll leave you to your packing. I’m going out for a while to clear my head. I meant what I said, Rachel. I want you out of here by the time I get back. I fucking mean it.”
She touched his arm, but he jerked away.
A bolt of lightning shot across the sky, and a loud clap of thunder reverberated through the house. Grabbing his helmet from a hook, he yanked open the back door to leave.
She clutched his arm again, her grip firm. As the two stood in the doorway leading outside, a gust of wind whipped up. “It’s ridiculous for you to be riding your motorcycle in weather like this. Come back inside, Jake. Let’s talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. You either love someone or you don’t. It doesn’t take a damn college degree to figure that out. At least, for some of us it doesn’t.”
“I know you’re hurting, Jake—”
Unwilling to waste any more time listening to her prattle on and on about why they weren’t suitable for each other, he jerked her arm away, jogged down the steps and headed over to where his bike was parked. Firing up the engine, he peeled out.
As he heard the faint sound of her voice trailing in the distance, he wished to God he’d never laid eyes on her. She’d taken three years from his life he could never get back.
~ ~ ~
Rachel choked back tears as she made her way back into the house. As smart a woman as she was in the world of academia, she sucked when it came to personal relationships. There had been numerous times over the course of the past few months when she considered telling Jake how she felt. But something always came up and she’d put it off. By waiting this long—trying to find the perfect time to finally open up—to tell him her misgivings about their relationship, she’d hurt him deeply.
Never in all their years together had she seen him behave in such a cruel, vicious way. Lashing out at her like he had was unprecedented. His uncustomary rant had left her stunned.
She wanted desperately to talk to him—to assure him that he shouldn’t take the rejection personally. He was, after all, a very decent man—one who’d been good to her. While she hadn’t intended to hurt him this much, she had.
Pacing about the house, she agonized over what she could have done differently. Should she have accompanied her parents back to Dallas, giving her more time to think long and hard about her decision to break up with Jake? Or, should she just suck it up and stay here in town and continue teaching—abandoning her dream of owning a café?
Striding into the bedroom the two shared, she began gathering her things, tossing them in a bag. When she glanced over at the oak dresser her grandfather had made, she saw the picture of her with Jake they’d taken at the Cowboy Poetry Gathering three years ago. She smiled, recalling how Jake had convinced her to sneak into a tent to help him crack eggs. She’d obliged, only to discover there wasn’t an egg in sight. He’d done it to lure her into his web; a web she’d gratefully entered.
Maybe Jake was right. Maybe moving back to Dallas wouldn’t solve anything. Maybe the real problem lay within herself.
Grabbing her phone, she dialed his number. Please, Jake. Pick up. Come home, so we can talk.
~ ~ ~
Jake shifted the gears on his motorcycle, dipping his head to shield himself from the rain. The dreary weather matched his mood perfectly.
The light at the intersection turned red, and when he applied the brakes, he began hydroplaning. But within seconds he had the bike under control again.
As he waited for the light to change, his cell phone rang. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled it out, trying to decipher who the call was from. The rain continued pelting him, making it impossible to read the name popping up on his screen.
Scolding himself for even considering taking a call in the pouring rain, he began shoving the phone back in his pocket. But he lost his grip on the phone and it plummeted to the ground. Leaning over, he quickly retrieved it and stuffed it into his pocket. It took several seconds, and when he heard the car behind him honk, he shifted into first gear and slowly moved through the intersection.
He looked to the right and noticed the six o’clock train roaring by, its whistle blowing loudly. For a split second, he lo
st his concentration. To his left he heard the squeal of brakes and a loud horn blaring.
By the time he looked over, it was too late. A large truck was barreling through the intersection straight toward him.
He swerved to avoid it, as the blaring horn of the truck and train whistle created a deafening roar. He squeezed the brakes and began hydroplaning, careening into the chilly night air—in slow motion.
It felt like a dream as the night air propelled him. When he landed on the pavement, he heard the loud clashing of metal.
Gasping aloud, he realized he was no longer able to breathe. His leg throbbed with pain, and for a split second, he nearly lost consciousness.
Groaning, he tried to force open his eyes, and when he finally did, he saw a sea of red mixing with the rain. As he watched the crimson blood intermingle with the water, creating a sea of pink, he wondered if he was bleeding to death.
Unable to get up, he lay there, staring at the bloody road. Exhaustion overcame him, and as he began drifting off, he felt at peace. He hadn’t thought things would end like this. But then, things never turned out like you planned.
Chapter 4
Lightning streaked across the night sky outside the Emergency Room of Alpine General Hospital. Sarah Wainwright dipped her head, trying to catch the condition of the patient the dispatcher was calling in. “Forty-five-year-old male with excessive bleeding and leg trauma.”
There had been a terrible motorcycle accident downtown and the patient was in rough shape. She rushed back into one of the cubicles and changed the sheets, getting it ready.
Kendall Jennings thrust his hands in the pockets of his lab coat, a scowl sweeping across his face. “Nothing like getting a call in when we’re about to go off duty.” Ignoring the sarcastic remark, Sarah continued prepping the area for the patient.
As an ambulance siren wailed in the distance, she checked the cubicle for the incoming patient a final time, making certain everything was ready. As the siren drew closer, the familiar rush of adrenaline shot through her.
