The Return (BookShots Flames)

by Erin Knightley

  “You could have.”

  She shook her head. “No, I couldn’t have. I was ready to turn tail and run, and you talked me off the ledge.”

  The compliment felt good. He let her praise settle between them before saying, “I’m surprised you choked in the first place. I would have thought all those years of beauty pageants would have prepared you for performing in front of a crowd.”

  “You’d think. I guess it was because the pageant thing never mattered that much to me. Nothing was on the line but a title and crown.”

  He blinked, surprised by the admission. “What do you mean? I thought you loved being a beauty queen.”

  Their eyes met briefly as she shook her head. “That was my mama’s dream. I’m a competitive person, so it’s not like I didn’t enjoy it. But I’ve always wanted to barrel race. It was too expensive to do both, though, and I wanted to make her happy.”

  “But that was before she got sick.”

  She gave a humorless laugh. “Yep. I always wanted to make her happy, even before the diagnosis. She was all I had.”

  “And now she’s gone,” he said gently. Sadness tugged at his heart. He remembered her mother as being young, beautiful, and athletic. The reality of her decline must have been torturous for them both. He’d known about it, signed the condolence card, and shaken his head at the sadness of the situation. But in this moment, he really felt the weight of her loss.

  “And now she’s gone,” she repeated quietly. “Those were the best and worst years of my life. It was unbearable, caring for her as she declined to a shell of her former self.”

  “Didn’t you have any help?” He’d been chasing his own dreams by then, and wasn’t paying that much attention to her situation.

  “It was just me. Mama’s disability benefits helped, but it still wasn’t enough. Friends would help out, but it was only me and my mother most of the time. I was her primary caregiver. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I’d never trade that time I had with her. We had so many conversations. We experienced so much. Tried to pack a lifetime into a few short years. We learned not to take one second for granted.”

  He glanced down at his hands, making fists and unfurling them, wishing the numbness away. “Most of us don’t learn that until it’s too late.”

  The cab was quiet for a minute, save for the monotonous sound of tires on asphalt and the soft swish of windshield wipers. After a minute, Ashley sighed. “I’m sorry for your accident, Mack. And for the aftermath. It must be terrible being stuck on the sidelines after all your hard work.”

  “Yep.” It was an understatement, but in light of the conversation about her mother, his injuries weren’t the end of the world.

  “You hurt more than you let on,” she said.

  “Yep,” he said again. It was more than he’d admitted to anyone else, but in the darkened interior of the truck cab, it felt okay to tell the truth.

  “What happened? I mean, how badly were you hurt? The whole town has been buzzing about it, but I doubt any of us got the full story.”

  He hadn’t wanted anyone, including his parents, to know the full extent of the injuries. Why worry everyone when it wasn’t necessary? Yet he didn’t want to lie, even by omission, to Ashley. She deserved better than that from him.

  Turning his hands face up, he counted down, finger by finger. “Three broken ribs, broken collarbone, sprained wrist, dislocated shoulder, concussion, and a squashed spine. Oh, and a partially collapsed lung.”

  He could see her eyes widen, even though she didn’t take them off the road. After a moment, she said, “Is ‘squashed spine’ a technical term?” She was trying to make light of the situation, but her voice had roughened perceptibly.

  “Thoracic spinal compression. Pretty sure you don’t want more details on that one.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. I hear tell you’ll be back on the bull in four months. But that’s only six months from the time of your injury. Is that really enough time to recover from all that?”

  He glanced out the passenger window, watching the landscape slip by in an unending reel of surprisingly green grass. Funny how the world kept turning, even when his own life seemed to have ground to a halt. “Hard to say. Doc says it will be at least a year, probably two.” If ever. “But I know my limits, and if I can push myself, I can do it.”

  “Well, I’ll be rooting for you.”

  That made him smile. “Oh, really? I must be winning you over.”

  She met his eyes, her lips curved in an answering grin. “Must be. So don’t do anything stupid.”

  Laughing, he shook his head. “Honey, I do stupid for a living.”

  By the time they reached the hotel, Ashley felt as though they’d finally hit the Reset button on their relationship. All the bad blood between them had been left behind on the long stretch of highway somewhere between Dallas and Oklahoma City.

  After checking in—adjoining rooms this time, something so full of unspoken possibilities that her blood stirred with need—they stepped into the elevator as a pair of women Ashley recognized as fellow barrel racers hurried over and slid in with them before the doors closed.

  “Well, well, well,” the taller one said, a sly grin tugging at her bright-red lips. “If it isn’t the happy couple.”

  Ashley stiffened at her tone, but Mack’s expression didn’t change in the least. Lazy smile in place, he nodded. “Hi, Miranda, Kelsey. Long time no see.”

  The grin turned into a smirk. “And now we see why. Busy with your new girlfriend?”

  “Oh, Ashley’s not my girlfriend,” he said calmly, evenly. “We’re just friends from back home.”

  It was exactly what he should have said, but that didn’t stop a pang of disappointment from thumping Ashley in the chest.

  Miranda lifted one sculpted eyebrow. “That’s not what it looked like last night. I must say, I’m a little miffed. You always said you’d never date a fellow competitor, and now look at you, getting cozy with the new girl after her first ride.” She gave Ashley a dismissive glance, as though she didn’t warrant the time of day.

  “That’s right,” the other woman, Kelsey, said, laughing lightly as she shook her head. “You always did say that’s what buckle bunnies were for.”

  It was obvious that Kelsey, with her easy smile and clear blue eyes, was amused by Mack’s antics, while Miranda harbored some sort of crush on him.

  He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Yeah, well, I’m not with the rodeo anymore. Ashley needed a little help getting into the sport, and I happened to have some free time. You could call her my little side project while I’m waiting out my injuries.”

  Ashley felt as though she’d been slapped in the face. After all that they’d just shared, he was calling her his little side project? Anger, mixed with a healthy dose of hurt, sprang up, clogging her throat and reddening her cheeks.

  The elevator slowed to a stop, and when the doors slid open, she turned to him and said, “Why don’t you hang out with your friends here tonight, Mack? I won’t be needing your charity anytime soon.”

  Kelsey tilted her head in confusion, her brow wrinkled above her guileless eyes. “Girl, as if you need charity, you lucky duck. I know your cousin and, according to him, you ended up with half his inheritance!”

  Chapter 13

  Mack blinked, trying to make sense of Kelsey’s statement. It was so outlandish, she might as well have said that Ashley had grown up on Mars. He reached out to stop the elevator doors from sliding closed as he turned to her, prepared to see the confusion on her face, too. But the look she gave him made his insides freeze.

  Holy hell. Was Kelsey speaking the truth?

  He had slept in the damn truck because he had believed what she said about the reservations, and about the other hotels being too expensive. He had assumed she couldn’t hire a trainer, which was one of the reasons he had agreed to this arrangement. Here he was, scraping the bottom of the barrel, and she was looking down her apparently very rich nose
at him.

  Betrayal seared his gut as he stared into her wide, stricken eyes. It was true. He knew without a doubt that it was true.

  She opened her mouth, clearly ready to defend herself, but he gave his head a sharp shake, stopping her before she could start. There was nothing she could say right then that would make this better. She’d lied to him. Repeatedly. All while accusing him of being the bad guy.

  He let go of the elevator door, stepped back, and watched the sliding metal panels sever the ties between them.

  Apparently Ashley had been the player all along.

  The din of the packed roadhouse was a balm to Mack’s restless mood. He tipped his chin in greeting toward a few steer wrestlers he knew who were gathered around the pool tables as he made his way to the bar, where he ordered a Jack and Coke. Not his go-to, but tonight he had a hankering for something stronger than beer.

  The better to get his mind off a certain brown-eyed liar.

  An hour before, an envelope had swished under his door, diverting his attention from the low drone of the television. When he’d looked inside, his first instinct had been to rip the contents to shreds. He’d quickly changed his mind. Why throw away Ashley’s guilt money when he could use it to treat some of his real friends? The ones who hadn’t played him for a damn fool.

  When the drink arrived, he tossed down a handful of bills and turned to face the room at large. Groaning, he paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. Aw, hell. Just his luck that she would be here, chatting with two cowboys and the second-place barrel racer from Dallas as if they were old friends. Clearly she was eaten up with guilt about her deception.

  Scowling, he took a long drink.

  Bernie and Jessica were good people, but Mack knew way too much about Luke Ferguson to like the way his arm was draped casually over Ashley’s chair. He was young, reckless, good-looking, and had a way with women that made Hugh Hefner look like an altar boy.

  His mood already brooding, Mack strode over to a table along the wall and took another long drink. He watched as Ashley tipped back her head and laughed. She was like a fresh sunflower in a valley of wilted daisies. She had no idea how guys like Luke could manipulate women. Hell, she had lived just about the most sheltered life he could imagine these past few years. Luke could probably smell the innocence on her.

  Clenching his teeth, he looked away. No, he was not going to sit here and worry about a woman who clearly didn’t give a damn about him. Downing his drink, he made his way to the pool tables to join his old friends.

  Sort of.

  Every few minutes, he found himself glancing back over, narrowing his eyes as he caught Luke stroking her arm or settling a hand at her knee. Damn kid couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself for even five seconds.

  Mack lost the game miserably. He took the ribbing from his old friends in stride, buying them all another round. As they raised their beers to good times, his gaze slipped back across the room in time to see Luke lean over and whisper something in Ashley’s ear, his lips brushing against her. She started to pull away, but Luke pulled her in closer, murmured something, and nuzzled her neck.

  Before his brain even caught up with his movements, Mack was stalking across the room. “Well look at this cozy scene,” he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest.

  They swiveled around at his words. Luke had a vaguely smug grin on his face, his eyelids half-mast from what Mack was sure had been multiple drinks. Ashley, on the other hand, looked like a raccoon caught in the feed bin.

  She quickly stood, but before she could find her tongue, Luke rose and slid his arm around her waist and tugged her flush against his side. “Don’t let ol’ Mack scare you away, darlin’. He’s just jealous I managed to find the prettiest girl in the room.”

  “And glue yourself to her side like a fresh sheet of flypaper.”

  “Mack,” she said, her voice holding a hint of scolding. He was here to pry the leech from her side, and she was still thinking he was the bad guy?

  Luke chuckled, the sound well lubricated with alcohol. “Don’t mind him. He left his tact on the dirt along with his spleen a few months back.”

  It was the exact sort of thing that they might have ribbed each other about a few years back, but in that moment, Mack would have happily introduced the man’s smiling mug to that same dirt. “No tact necessary. Ashley and I go way back. And I can tell you she’s too polite to ask you to keep your damn hands to yourself.”

  “I think she’s happy right where she is. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

  Her mouth was tight as she met Mack’s eyes. “I’m fine, Mack, really. Why don’t you join us?”

  “I saw him pawing at you, and you pulling away. Politeness won’t get you anywhere with guys like Ferguson, Ash. If you won’t stand up for yourself, I will.”

  Luke scowled. “You’re imagining things, McLeroy.”

  Ashley widened her eyes at Mack, though he couldn’t say whether it was in anger or earnestness. “I can take care of myself, Mack. Cut it out.”

  He didn’t know why the hell he had come over here in the first place. She wasn’t a friend to him, and he wasn’t her damn keeper anymore. He didn’t need this. If she was so keen to be slobbered over tonight, it wasn’t his place to get in the way.

  “Fine,” he said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. But his left hand inadvertently clipped Luke on the shoulder, which, combined with the man’s half drunkenness, made him stumble backward. There was a brief pause as everyone, including Mack, froze in surprise.

  And then all hell broke loose.

  Chapter 14

  Even with a half-swollen eye, an arm sling, and a scowl as dark as a Texas storm cloud, Mack was still annoyingly attractive. Ashley studiously ignored his presence at her side.

  And apparently he still hadn’t matured, either.

  He’d been waiting at the truck at eight o’clock sharp, tight-lipped and brooding, and though for much of the morning he’d stayed by her side as per their agreement, the silence between them was as cold and thick as molasses in December.

  Even now, when it was nearly her turn to compete and they were standing in line, watching one of her fellow competitors take off, one after the other, each refused to acknowledge the other. Which was fine by her. She didn’t need any pep talks from him this morning. Her skills were her own, and she didn’t need validation from him or anyone else.

  At least that’s what she was telling herself, now that the nerves were creeping in. Gritting her teeth, Ashley concentrated on the horse and rider streaking across the dirt. Actually, “dirt” was stretching it. Unlike the last venue, this one was an outdoor arena, and the ground was still damp from the previous night’s rain. It wasn’t quite mud, but it was close.

  She could do this. It wasn’t as if she’d never ridden on a damp course. It’d be nice if her so-called friend wasn’t radiating tension next to her, but she’d deal. Maybe he was regretting diving into the brawl he’d accidentally started. Or the fact that he’d attempted to butt in where he had no business being in the first place. Actually, he was probably wishing he’d never asked her for help at all.

  She knew she was.

  Men. Honestly, what the hell had he been thinking? Last she’d seen as she’d bolted for the door last night, he and four other cowboys were tussling, at least two of them grinning like idiots. Though his appearance this morning had made her cringe, she refused to worry about what he’d managed to injure, since he’d been such a jerk in the first place. Sure, Luke’s attention had been getting a little overbearing, but that had nothing to do with Mack.

  It didn’t even make sense that he had come over. One minute he wanted nothing to do with her, and the next he was throwing punches over her? Granted, he hadn’t intended to start the fight, but he sure as hell had no problem continuing it.

  With only three riders ahead of her, she pushed it from her mind and mounted up. Mia seemed to sense the tension. The horse was shifty and nervous, ignoring Ashley’s attempt
to keep her steady.

  “Come on, girl,” she said firmly, leaning forward as she patted the horse’s sleek neck. “Work with me here.”

  From this vantage point, she could see that the grounds were a little worse than she had initially thought. They were well trampled already, with muddy spots beginning to form. Great—one more thing to throw her off her game this morning.

  Mia reared backward. “Quit it,” Ashley hissed, sternly correcting the horse as she took a tighter hold on the reins. Mack was acting as though they didn’t exist, standing like an unmovable sentry at her side. She gritted her teeth. The long drive home tonight was not something she was looking forward to.

  She had just managed to calm Mia down when it was her turn to ride. Taking a deep breath, Ashley aimed for the first barrel and set off at a run.

  Something wasn’t right.

  Mack could see it in the way Ashley hunched over Mia’s back, and in the slightly out of sync way that she moved with the horse. He went from pissed to worried in the space of four of Mia’s long strides. He didn’t like the look of this one bit.

  He held his breath as they damn near knocked over the first barrel, making it wobble before it settled back into place. That was way too close for comfort.

  Pressing closer to the fence, he willed the pair to get it together. They hoofed it toward the second barrel, and managed a much cleaner turn. Still, Mack didn’t relax, squinting a little to clear the vision in his puffy left eye as Ashley and Mia pounded toward the third barrel.

  She found her rhythm, and the final turn looked even better than the last. He let himself exhale, but then something went very, very wrong. As they tried to straighten out of the turn, Mia’s back leg slipped, throwing off the entire maneuver. The slip quickly turned into a skid, and in the blink of an eye, they were going down.

  His heart slammed to a stop as Ashley’s arms flew up to try to compensate for the shifting balance, but it was too late. Way too late.