Her Forever Cowboy (Harland County Series Book 4)

by Donna Michaels

  A grinning Connor rose to his feet and slapped him on the back. “Well, good luck with that, Dalton.”

  “Really?” Kevin frowned up at the giant. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

  “Yeah, except we’ve all been through it, man. Every last one of us. Including your brother-in-law Brock. You’ll figure it out. We all did and lived to tell about it.”

  “He’s right,” Kade agreed.

  “Yeah, but you and Connor and Cole and Brock are all in relationships now.” He glanced from one smiling man to the other. “You know that’s not for me. Besides, Shayla isn’t staying. If it weren’t for committing to the Dance-a-thon and helping the charity, she would’ve split Sunday night.”

  “You think so?” McCall’s brows disappeared under his hair.

  “I know so, and I’m betting once the contest is over, she’s gone. So, that means no relationship.”

  “Seems to me that should work well for you, then.” Connor slapped his back again. “You’re a smart guy. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” And with a two finger salute, the cowboy sauntered out of the kitchen.

  The big guy had a point. If Shayla wasn’t staying, there was no danger of having a relationship. But, she wasn’t the only one who sparked his concern.

  “You’re worried about Amelia.” Kade stared at him from across the table, gaze direct and intense.

  “Yeah. She’s kind of grown attached to me.”

  “Just her?”

  “Yeah, her mom seems fine leaving things in Houston.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Shayla.”

  He blinked. Trying to clear his head. He probably shouldn’t have finished that second beer so fast. “I don’t think Caitlin is attached to me.”

  “Not Caitlin, you screwball. I’m talking about you.”

  “Me? I’m very attached to me.”

  “Kevin.”

  Uh oh. Sgt. Hardass was back in the building.

  “I’m talking about you being attached to Amelia.”

  He scoffed and waved a hand at his cousin. “No worries. I’m not attached to—” Kevin stopped. Whether he finished the sentence with daughter or mother, it would be a lie. And he hated lies. And secrets. Like the one his college girlfriend had kept from him.

  “Kevin, how are you really doing?”

  “I’m fine,” he automatically replied.

  “So, this business with Amelia calling you Daddy and hugging you like you’re her whole life hasn’t brought back memories? Hasn’t stirred up the loss of your child?”

  “It wasn’t a loss. It was murder. Tina shouldn’t have kept that news from me. She should’ve told me she was pregnant. Not get an abortion without my knowledge.” With the road paved by alcohol, long suppressed emotions rose to the surface. “I would’ve been a good dad. I would’ve stepped up to the plate.”

  “I know.”

  And Tina should’ve known that, too. Granted, they’d gone out all through high school and then college and he hadn’t put a ring on her finger. But he’d figured they’d had time. He’d been busy helping keep the ranch afloat, building his career, taking care of his sister and mom. All things that needed to be accomplished before he could concentrate on his future. But apparently, she got tired of waiting. And he didn’t blame her for that. Really, he didn’t. He’d waited too long.

  But she never told him she was pregnant.

  She just gave an ultimatum—make a commitment or she was walking. Kevin had asked her to give him some more time. The program he was working on was going to be huge, he just knew it, and that would solve the ranch’s debt problems, then he could shift his focus. But she’d just shook her head, kissed his cheek with tears in her eyes and said good-bye. Not, oh by the way, I’m carrying your baby.

  “I just want you to be clear on your feelings now,” Kade said.

  Kevin frowned, his head beginning to pound. “What do you mean?”

  “Make sure you’re not using Shayla and her daughter as a substitute for your loss.”

  Well damn.

  Kevin blinked, and sat in stunned silence. Was he doing that? He didn’t think so. The attraction between him and the single mother was real. Combustible. Can’t fake that. And he really did enjoy playing with Amelia and taking care of the little angel. Her sloppy wet kisses and uncontrollable giggles.

  Sure, he thought about his own unborn child. Whether the baby would’ve been a boy or a girl. A southpaw like him. A puzzle solver. Aptitude for math. But, he’d thought about those things long before he’d ever meet Shayla and her daughter.

  Were they a substitute?

  No.

  Were they dangerous?

  Yes.

  His heart was way too close to the surface in their presence. Which at times, made him feel great. But others, like now, not so great. Vulnerable.

  The best thing for him to do was follow Shayla’s lead. Keep it simple. Uncomplicated. Straightforward. Sooner or later his lower extremities would fire up without her help.

  He’d just have to hunker down. Firm his resolve, and wait it out.

  Shayla had dodged the bullet the last few nights. Not tonight. Thursday night.

  Dance lesson night.

  She’d already used the cowardly ‘my daughter has the sniffles I can’t make it’ excuse on Tuesday. Guilt had soured her stomach. She hated lying. Hated using her daughter for that lie. Vowed never to do it again.

  So, here she was, pulling into Mrs. Avery’s driveway, relief slumping her shoulders at the sight of Kevin’s missing truck. He hadn’t arrived yet. Maybe he couldn’t make it. Hope sparked a light in her heart. She really wasn’t up to dancing with the cowboy just yet.

  At the sound of a car backfiring, she jumped in her seat and set a palm over her racing heart. God, she hated this. Hated the not-knowing, the fear, always looking over her shoulder. Ever since she got back a few days ago, she’d been double-checking her doors, watching in her rearview mirror to see if she was being followed. In time, things would settle, but right now, she was jittery. Bless Kade. The sheriff made her call in a SITREP—situation report—every morning at eight, and promised to have a patrol car drive by every few hours. Both eased the tight grip fear had on her throat.

  She was feeling flushed. Her hand left her thudding chest to settle over her forehead. Fever? That would certainly get her out of tonight. But, her forehead was cool. Dammit. No excuse. She had to do this…had to go in the studio and dance with the sexy man who’d had her body in ways that would make a porn star blush. And Shayla want more.

  No. That was Houston. This was Harland County. No sex with Kevin Dalton in Harland County.

  Dancing, talking, laughing, eating, all perfectly acceptable.

  No kissing, groping, nibbling, or sucking, because it would undoubtedly lead to sex. Definitely no sex. Sex with the cowboy was bad. Heat flooded her belly and simmered in all her good parts. No…sex with the cowboy was good. Very, very good. Ecstasy, rapturous, life-affirming good.

  Which was bad.

  He didn’t want a relationship. Heck, she didn’t want a relationship, yet the more Shayla was around the guy, the more she wanted to be around the guy. And if they kept having sex, then didn’t that make it a relationship of sorts?

  Not going to happen.

  She sucked in a breath and got out of her car. No reason to poke that bear. All she had to do was curb her hunger and get her stupid libido under control. Simple. She blew out the breath and headed for the garage. And doable. After all, she wasn’t staying.

  Once the Dance-a-thon was over, Shayla was out of Harland for good. After she helped the foster children’s charity get as much money and recognition as possible, she would hit the road. Take her stupid drama away from the good people of Harland County. Nausea flooded her stomach, as it always did, when thoughts about leaving entered her mind. But, with her father still out there, and the threat of someone telling him about the video, she had no choice. She had to leave.

  With a light r
ap on the side door to the garage, Shayla entered the studio, hoping Mrs. Avery would tell her Kevin was stuck in traffic so practice was cancelled.

  “Shayla!” The older woman rushed forward to draw her into a hug. “I’m so sorry, dear. Are you okay?”

  It was like déjà vu from Monday morning when she’d dropped Amelia off at Mrs. McCall’s for her routine babysitting. The lovely woman and her husband had taken turns hugging and apologizing for posting the video online. She reassured the anxious couple things were fine. But, she was too fearful to stay in town past the dance-a-thon. That would be tempting fate. As it was, she was figuratively sticking her middle finger at it right now. Living in the county on borrowed time.

  “I’m fine, Mrs. Avery. How are you?” She drew back to look into the older woman’s eyes. Clear, but anxious. “I didn’t mean to scare you last week, but I nearly had a heart attack.”

  The instructor smiled and patted her arm. “Understandable, dear. I’m just glad things have worked out. And you don’t have to worry about me saying anything. As far as anyone needs to know, you’re Shayla Ryan from north Texas.”

  She nodded, returning the woman’s smile. “Thank you. I’d rather forget the other name. It’s too dangerous and carries a lot of bad memories. I like Shayla Ryan now.”

  Much better memories associated with her new name, mainly thanks to a certain blue-eyed cowboy.

  “I like her, too,” Mrs. Avery said with another pat to her arm. “Oh, Kevin called, said he was going to be fifteen minutes late.”

  Trying not to look too hopeful, Shayla waited for the woman to tell her what exactly that meant as far as their practice that night. Please let her cancel…

  “So, while we wait, I hope you don’t mind, but I called one of my younger students and asked her to come over. She’s dancing in the local competition at the end of the month, and I could use your help.”

  Shayla’s heart rocked hard in her chest. Her help? Shoot. How could she help? Especially since she couldn’t disclose much about her dancing past.

  “Don’t worry, dear,” Mrs. Avery said, patting her arm again. “I just told Macy and her mom that you danced in a few competitions when you were a child.”

  All true.

  “And that you would take a look at her three minute routine. We’ve choreographed all the required technical and free dance moves. But I just want to make sure there’s enough wow factor. You know what I mean?”

  Shayla nodded. She knew all too well nailing a routine wasn’t enough. Talent. Precision. Pizzazz, costuming, all played key roles. Tell a story through performance. Make the judges believe it. Feel it.

  God, she missed it.

  But, that was a lifetime ago. When dancing was her whole life. Now, she had a different one. Amelia was her whole life.

  A knock sounded on the door a second before it opened to a pretty little girl with her brown hair pulled back in a pony tail and an eager expression on her face, followed by an older version with a hint of sacrifice and exhaustion rounding her shoulders.

  It was as if she caught a glimpse of the past, and her thumb brushed over her tattoo. Memories of her and her mom rushed through her mind. The preparations. Practices. Last minute adjustments.

  “Aw, Macy, Clair, so glad you could come on such short notice,” Mrs. Avery said.

  “My goodness, no problem. We appreciate it,” the mother said, turning to send her a smile. “You must be Shayla. Thank you for agreeing to help. My daughter has worked so hard. We just want everything to be right.”

  “Of course. I understand.” When she was Macy’s age, dancing was an escape. Competing was a challenge of her dream. She threw herself into her routine, thriving on the freedom. The happy and safe world she’d created in order to cope with her crappy reality.

  “Oh, thank you, Ms. Ryan,” Macy said, shaking her hand. “I know the routine inside and out, and it has all the artistic and technical qualifications, but, I don’t know. I just feel like there’s something missing. You’ve competed. You know. Maybe if you watch it, you’ll see what I mean.”

  “Sure. Of course. Go ahead. Show me,” she said, moving off the floor to stand by Mrs. Avery and the little girl’s mother.

  For the next seventeen minutes, Macy danced and Shayla made suggestions and demonstrated those suggestions, then danced side by side with the talented girl, until the wonderful routine turn outstanding. Exuding confidence and poise, the girl had talent and grace, and such control of her movements Shayla knew the child was special. Macy had a bright future, and she felt honored and blessed to have helped.

  She was so caught up in the adrenaline and rush of excitement, her mind hadn’t registered what her body had noted for the past five minutes. Mistaking the flush of her skin and increased pulse as elements from the dancing, she hadn’t made the connection to Kevin having walked in. The cowboy leaned against the wall, knee bent, smiling.

  “Well done, Macy,” he said, clapping as he moved from the wall. “You nailed it.”

  The little girl beamed from ear to ear. “Thanks, Kevin. Did you see the move Ms. Ryan had added? Isn’t it perfect?”

  “Sure is,” he replied, something unnamable passing through his warm gaze.

  Heat flooded her body and raced to her face. Shayla got the impression he wasn’t referring to the dance.

  She patted the girl’s shoulder. “Macy’s a natural. We only tweaked just a little.”

  “Thank you so much.” The preteen hugged her tight, then drew back, big smile still residing on her face. “Will you come to my competition?”

  Mrs. Avery stepped closer. “It’s at the rec center next Saturday.”

  Indecision squeezed Shayla’s chest. It would be tough to step back into that environment. To the place she’d loved and always thought she’d succeed.

  “Yes,” Clair smiled, handing her daughter a coat before slipping into her own. “It would be so nice having you there to help cheer Macy on.”

  “I’d be honored,” she said and meant it. She did not take being on the other side of that coin lightly.

  “Sweet!” Macy hugged her again. “Thank you so, so much. I can’t wait. Bye, Mrs. Avery. Bye, Kevin.”

  Ten seconds later, the little girl and her mother were gone.

  The older lady, eyes a little misty, came over and squeezed Shayla’s hands. “That was a nice thing you did. As you could tell, it meant the world to that little girl. And I have a few others that could benefit from your knowledge and experience. Ever think about teaching dance?”

  Swallowing past a hot throat, Shayla refused to glance at Kevin who stood silently watching. “Not with the way I move around. The kids would never be able to count on me,” she said, squeezing back.

  “I understand.” Mrs. Avery smiled, then released her to walk over to her old stereo.

  The eighties called, they want their boom box back…

  The system was a bit dated, but put out the desired results.

  “Now,” their instructor continued, glancing at them as she tapped the stereo. “I’ve got a good hour of ballroom classics on this tape. The contest is sure to have a few, so let me pop it in and you can get started while I heat up some supper. Busy day. I didn’t have the chance to eat yet.”

  “Oh, please, go eat,” Shayla said.

  “Would you all like some?”

  “No,” Kevin rushed to say. “Thank you, Mrs. Avery. I ate late today.”

  The older woman glanced at her, but judging by the way her dance partner was quick to refuse…and the way he adamantly shook his head behind the sweet woman, she decided to heed his warning. “No, thanks, I’ve already eaten.” Which was true, so she didn’t feel so bad refusing.

  “Okay, then. Get to it.” The woman pushed a button and the music of a waltz began to play. “Just remember, when waltzing, no spaghetti arms. Resistance is essential so your body can sense which direction to move. Other than that, you don’t really need me around. These sessions are mainly for you to get used to dancin
g for long periods of time.”

  Weird. If Shayla didn’t know better, she’d swear the woman was leaving them alone on purpose.

  “We’ll be fine,” Kevin said, opening the door for Mrs. Avery. “I can assure you there won’t be anything limp.”

  As he closed the door and turned to face her, Shayla realized she was alone, for the first time since Sunday, with the man who had her moaning his name in ecstasy all last week. Limp body parts were never an issue.

  “Shall we dance, darlin’?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gaze open and friendly, Kevin held out his hands and waited for her to lock in their closed dance position. With a nod, she placed her right hand in his, set the other on his shoulder, her arm resting lightly on his arm, while he cupped her body just below her shoulder blade. Deploying the resistance Mrs. Avery mentioned, Shayla felt the slight pressure from the heel of Kevin’s hand on her back and immediately followed his lead.

  Grateful the dance required a 1/8 turn of her head to the left, she gazed over his shoulder, and after a few minutes and several turns around the dance floor, relaxed enough to approach the subject of apologizing. Something she should’ve done yesterday, but the cowboy had been a bit stiff and tightlipped, and, well, she’d chickened out.

  Not today. No matter what, she would apologize and thank him.

  “So, how’s your week going?” he asked.

  The sight of his dimple hit her peripheral vision and warmed the fluttering in her stomach. “Okay.”

  “Just okay? You haven’t had problems, have you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not like you think. Just with my conscience. I-I need to apologize to you. I’m sorry, Kevin.”

  “Me?” His footing stumbled slightly. “What for?”

  “For leaving with Cole on Sunday.” She paused, waiting for input from him, but he remained silent, so she continued. “I needed to get Amelia back to our apartment environment. She’s growing too attached to you, and I just don’t want her hurt.”

  Focused on doing the right thing, she ignored the little voice in her head that asked, Just Amelia? Her attachment and wants weren’t the issue. And after mistakenly overhearing his conversation with Kade in their kitchen yesterday, about his former girlfriend leaving him and aborting their child without his knowledge, she loathed to hurt Kevin, too. Her heart ached for the man, and the pain and loss evident in his tone last night still twisted her gut. But even though the cowboy told his cousin he was not using her and Amelia as a substitute, she would always wonder.