She shrugs. “I don’t know. Just to clear the air before he…you know…marries somebody else?”
I glare at her. “No. I’m not going to tell him. I have to go, though. Skip’s coming by to complete his blackmailing of me.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this for Logan.” Ginny gives me a hug. “You know it’s not your fault that Skip has all those photos of you two. I don’t know if I agree with your decision to protect Logan like this.”
“Join the crowd. Ben feels the same as you. He thinks Logan dug his own grave, blah, blah, blah.”
“Well, he did.” Ginny walks me to my SUV. “He roped himself into this engagement.”
“Like a steer?” I joke.
“Exactly. Logan went out to West Texas and got confused. He roped a rich girl from the city instead of a bull.”
I laugh.
“No, but seriously, you wouldn’t be selling him out by refusing to give Skip a story.”
I get into my SUV and wave good-bye to her. “I know. But the choice to do this interview was all mine, and I’m going to stand behind it.”
“Vivian’s handwriting is gorgeous.” Skip pores over Vivian’s diary at The Cowherd. “How beautifully she wrote.”
Ben groans. “Skip, you sound like a middle-aged woman. Otherwise known as our mother.”
I lean over the bar and glance at the page. “It is pretty.”
Mr. Bingley sits on the stool to Skip’s right and regards him with suspicious eyes.
Okay, perhaps I’m projecting a bit. But the cat has been here since Skip arrived and hasn’t napped or cleaned himself once. All he’s done is sit and stare at Skip, who unfortunately doesn’t seem to mind the scrutiny.
I’d already shown the torn diary page to Skip privately, and he eagerly took a picture of it with his phone. Truthfully, I felt relief when I revealed the page to him. I felt like I could finally come clean and just move on. The curse is Mama’s thing, not mine, no matter how much she’s tried to burden me with it.
From behind the bar, Riley cleans a beer glass and hands it over to Ben for inspection. “I like working back here with y’all. It’s very relaxing.”
I smile. “As long as you don’t have to look at the bottom line, it’s great.”
I turn to Skip. “Are you almost done here? Because it’s been like three hours.”
The front door dings as Logan, Gigi, and Blake step inside. Jon’s with them, and he has his camera pointed straight at the chosen couple. Logan keeps turning away to avoid the flash, but Gigi has a calm, serene smile on her face.
God, it’s like she’s completely immune.
“Quick,” I whisper to Skip. “Give me Vivian’s diary. Logan won’t understand, and he’ll start asking questions.”
Skip slides the diary over to me, and I hustle to put it back inside the glass just as Mr. Bingley freaks out from the camera lights and darts away.
Blake and Logan takes stools a few down from Skip.
“Hey, bartender.” Logan nods at me. “What’s up?”
I shrug. “Nothing. How are y’all?”
“Delightful.” Gigi shakes her hair loose from an elastic band she’d tied it back with and takes the stool on Logan’s free side.
Riley smiles at Logan. “I work here now, too.”
Logan looks more closely at Riley’s pale face and the dark circles under her eyes. “What are you doing behind the bar?”
“Wink cheated on me. And dumped me.”
Gigi gasps, but Logan’s expression doesn’t change.
“I don’t have to tell you that you deserve better,” he says. “But I will if you want me to.”
“Thanks.” Riley cleans another beer glass. “I guess I forgot.”
Blake shakes his head at her. “Never forget that, Riley. That guy was obviously an ass.”
Gigi pipes up that she’s trying to understand Darcy better. “Since our talk at the creek last night, Macey,” she says pointedly.
I let out a breath. “I didn’t mean anything rude by it, Gigi. I’m sorry if you took it that way.”
“Not at all. But I found out lots of new things about Logan this morning when I talked to his mother. Like how he was born on the ranch at the same moment their oldest bull passed away. So, over to you, Macey. How old were you when you first served a drink at this bar?”
“I guess around fourteen.”
“I was never allowed,” Riley pipes in.
“I tried once when I was twelve,” says Ben.
My mouth drops open. “Twelve? That’s horrible!”
Ben grins. “Mama took the drink away.”
I turn to Skip. “All of this is off the record, by the way. Don’t even think about it.”
He nods. “Of course. Nothing about your family.”
Nobody thinks twice about Skip’s comment. Except for one person.
Logan leans forward and gives Skip a hard look. “What does that mean, nothing about her family? What are you talking about?”
Skip shrinks back from Logan’s intense gaze. “Um…”
“Figure of speech.” I wave my hand casually in the air. “Don’t be so paranoid, Logan.”
But Logan’s not finished. “What are you doing here, anyway? Are you spying on Macey?”
I tap Skip on the shoulder. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? You and Jon?”
Skip mumbles some excuse about low blood sugar, and he hustles Jon and himself out the door.
Once they’re gone, Gigi turns to me again. “Macey, Logan told me you don’t hunt. How come you’re so good with a gun, but you don’t hunt?”
I look at Logan, willing him to answer on my behalf.
He keeps the eye contact with me as he says, “Macey enjoys shooting, not hunting, that’s all.”
“How come?” Gigi asks.
“You should ask Macey herself,” Logan says.
I take a deep breath. Well, it’s really none of her business, and I know I can lie and tell her anything I want, but I haven’t told the story in so long it’s almost like I need to get it off my chest.
“I was nine years old,” I begin.
“Oh, this is the saddest story.” Riley puts her elbows on the bar and leans closer.
I give her a look but keep going. “Daddy’d run off again, and Mama asked me to go get us some dinner. ‘Take the shotgun,’ she said. ‘And remember to keep it locked till you’re ready to shoot.’ I went out and found a rabbit.” I pause and inhale. “I’ll always remember its eyes as it froze, cornered, and just stared up at me. Its eyes looked just like mine. The same color with the same fear in them. Honestly, it still haunts me. And I knew then I could never hunt. I didn’t have it in me. So I let the rabbit go and walked into town to beg the clerk at the corner store for an advance on groceries.” I give Gigi a half-smile. “I’m a hypocrite, of course, because I eat meat like the rest of my family. So I don’t judge anybody for hunting as long as they eat what they kill and don’t just do it for sport. Because if it’s just a sport, you should shoot beer cans like I do.”
Gigi gazes at me with those big wide eyes. “Macey, that is a terrible story. I’m never going to eat rabbit again!”
She excuses herself to go meet her sisters, and then Ben has to deal with an order out in the back.
Riley’s phone beeps, and she looks down at it and laughs.
“What is it?” I ask her.
She glances at Blake, who’s looking down at his own phone.
“Nothing.”
Blake looks up. “You know what I find funny?” he says. “No one’s ever tried to let this supposed ghost out of her cage. Instead, they give tours and point at poor Jane trapped in a cell, but nobody ever opens the door. Why not?”
I gesture behind me to Vivian’s diary. “You’re asking me to decipher Vivian’s mind? Her diary states that no one can break the spell by opening the door. People could open and close the thing all day long, and it won’t matter if the spell’s still intact. And they still believe only on
e couple is a match to the legend and that couple is out there somewhere.”
“Let’s open the cell and see if it frees her,” Blake dares me. “If it doesn’t work, you’ll be in the same place you are now. But if it does? The mayor will give your daddy a shot to run the bar again, right?”
“I like this idea,” Riley says with a smile.
“No,” I say. “As in, no, I won’t open the jail cell.”
“You scared?” Riley challenges me.
“No!”
Logan shoots Blake a look. “You’re such a fucking troublemaker. And now you’ve got the younger Henwood on board with you.”
Riley narrows her eyes at me. “So where’s the key?”
Chapter Thirteen
Only Daddy and I know where the key is.
I hesitate for a split second before I step out from behind the bar.
Logan, Blake, and Riley follow me down the hallway to the liquor room. We all go inside, and I shut the door behind us before going over to my desk and feeling underneath for the wrapped fabric shoved inside the secret opening at the back.
I pull the little packet out from its hiding place and unroll the tightly wound fabric until the ancient gold key with the heart-shaped handle rests in my open palm. I hold it up, and it jingles on the ring as it moves.
“That thing is so freaking old,” Logan says.
“You think it doesn’t work? I may have something in my purse that can help clean it off…” Riley says.
Blake grabs the key out of my hand and races to the jail cell. By the time I reach him, he has the key in the lock and is fiddling with it.
When the cell door swings open easily, we both step backward.
“To answer your question, I think it works.” Blake grins at me and steps inside the cell.
I go in after him, and Logan and Riley follow.
“Hey, Mace, my phone’s behind the bar. Let me see yours so I can take a picture of us inside the cell.” Riley holds out her hand.
I reach into my purse. “Shit. I left it upstairs.”
She turns to Logan. “Can I use your phone instead?”
He fishes it out of his pocket and gives it to her.
She steps backward to the door and holds up the phone. “Say cheese!”
Blake puts one hand on my shoulder and the other on Logan’s and presses us closer together. “Get one of these two, Riles.”
He steps around us and scoots past Riley so he can exit the cell. She snaps a photo of Logan and me before she steps backward and…
Shuts the cell door, leaving Logan and me inside alone.
Chapter Fourteen
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I say to Riley.
She just laughs as she puts Logan’s cell phone on my office desk. “You two need some quality time together, don’t you think?”
She and Blake turn and give each other a high five.
“Y’all fucking planned this?” Logan reaches through the bars to grab the key from Blake, but he keeps his fist closed around it.
“Well, now you’re stuck.” Blake’s eyes brighten as he carefully places the key on my desk, right where I can see it but far out of my reach.
“Blake, get the fuck back here!” Logan shouts as Blake and Riley head for the liquor room door.
“Have fun, kids. Don’t let the ghost of Jane Austen scare you,” Riley calls back as she and Blake laugh and exit the room, closing the door behind them.
I curse and turn back to face Logan.
His whiskey eyes burn with irritation as he throws out one last insult at Blake.
Pushing my face against the prison bars, I look out at my desk. The chair is empty because of course I’m not sitting in it, but everything about my makeshift office looks so…tiny. And old. Almost like I could turn and walk away from it with my laptop in my arms and there would be nothing else of me I’d be leaving behind.
“Looks like we’re stuck in here until Ben or somebody comes by.” Logan’s slow drawl breaks my train of thought.
“True. Riley and Blake are just going to hightail it out of The Cowherd.” I shake my head. “So what do we do now?”
Logan takes a seat on the floor of the jail cell. “We wait.”
His long legs stretch out before him, and he suddenly looks more relaxed than he has all summer.
He pats the floor next to him. “Come on,” he says as he crosses his legs at the ankles and looks up at me.
I walk over and take a seat next to him on the concrete floor. “What a mess,” I say.
“No doubt. You and I are stuck behind bars together.”
At his words, last night’s dream abruptly floods my mind.
I inhale and try to erase from my thoughts the image of Logan and me naked inside this very cell.
But I can’t.
I can’t help sneaking a peek at him next to me. At his tight jeans, at what I know his chest looks like underneath that fitted green t-shirt, at his tanned skin…
His eyes burn into mine as we look at each other.
The ache between my legs is so intense…
I turn away from him and start riffling maniacally through my purse. I’m looking for something—anything—to distract me.
My diary peeks out from underneath my wallet. I grab it in relief and wave it in the air.
“How about I read another one of these entries to pass the time?”
“Mace…” he warns.
“One that’s not too…intimate,” I promise.
“How about the last one?”
“My last entry? You mean the one from Vegas?”
Logan’s cheeks go red, and his eyes flash. “No. I don’t want to hear that one.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Why not?”
“Because. I just don’t.” He clears his throat. “I meant why don’t you just go in order from where we were?”
“Okay. Great.” I exhale in relief that I have something to do with my mouth other than kiss Logan like I’m craving. I whip open to a page, not paying attention to what entry it is. “Let’s try this one.”
Daddy was passed out at a table, and Mama slumped in the corner booth. She started rambling to me about last weekend’s bar brawl and how the police came an hour ago and took The Cowherd’s liquor license away.
“Your father and I just made our divorce official today. But with another lien on our house, who knows when we’ll actually split up…we’ve already been living here two weeks.” Mama started to cry. “And we’ll have no customers after tonight. Of course we won’t—we’re a bar with no liquor! Remember when this happened before and you were the only one able to get the mayor to change his mind?”
I reassured Mama I would do my best, and then I sent her off to bed in the chapel pews before helping my father into his own pew and putting a blanket over him.
I walked into the liquor room and made sure I saw six eyes blinking back at me just like Mama taught me the last time we lived in the saloon.
I sat down on Riley’s cot. “Y’all are still awake.”
“We waited for you.” Ben’s face peered up at me from his sleeping bag on the floor. “Can you believe it? A bar with no beer?”
“We’re totally screwed,” Riley said.
“One story, please Macey,” Free begged me.
I laughed. “Y’all are too old for bedtime stories.”
Free sniffled. “It’s been a terrible day. I want the story. Please?”
Pity made me forget to feel sorry for myself, and so I told them the same story I used to tell them every night when they were much littler. “A long time ago, a witch was paid off by a jealous wife to put a curse on Jane Austen’s ghost…”
I looked over at the cell and wondered how much longer we’d all have to live here. At least Mama and Daddy get to sleep in the chapel where I’m certain holy ghosts reside, not cursed ones.
I told my siblings to go to sleep and kissed them each good night.
This entry wasn’t the best choice. It
’s probably the hardest one for me to get through emotionally. Remembering that night and how burdened I felt…
“Sounds like the killing of innocence.”
Logan’s voice surprises me, and I jump.
I jerk my head up to look at him, and he touches my bare knee gently. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to read this one.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine.” I turn back to the diary.
I closed the door tightly, secured the booby trap of a hanging pail that only our family knew about, and went back to check on my parents. Mama was sitting in a booth, her permed hair limp and disheveled, and overall looking forlorn. I felt guilty walking away.
But I’d already missed tonight’s Pep Rally and Homecoming Dance, thanks to being the only bartender my father can afford to keep because I’m the only one who will work for free. I’m also underage, but that’s been overlooked in this town for years, so what’s one more year till I turn eighteen?
I was dressed for the dance and that made me feel okay for being a bit selfish, so I slipped out the door without Mama seeing me and walked through the fields behind the bar until I reached the Wild Ranch house. I stopped outside Logan’s bedroom window.
He came out after just one stone hit the pane.
Logan breaks into laughter. “Can’t believe you never shattered the glass. Your stones weren’t dainty pebbles.”
I smile. “Hey, there was no such thing around your yard.”
I looked at his shaggy hair underneath his Spurs hat, his Howdy t-shirt and his ripped jeans, and I smiled at him wearily. He pulled on his cowboy boots and followed me away from the house.
“How’d the wall-building effort go?” I asked him.
“It’s done.” He shrugged. “Mama got her separate nighttime quarters like she read about in those Regency romance novels. Daddy asked the contractor to saw their bed in half, too, but he refused. So Mama got the king, and Daddy has Reid’s old twin bed.” He rubbed his head. “Shit. My father’s not even drinking anymore, and they still hate each other.”
I touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. Then, he looked at my outfit. “Who are you trying to impress? Did you have a date for tonight?”
Wild Girl: A Cowboy Romance Trilogy (Wild Men Texas Book 3) Page 6
