A Cowboy's Duty

by Marin Thomas

The blood drained from Gavin’s head and he sank onto the sofa. He hadn’t wanted to believe something had happened to the baby but his instincts had been right all along. “Is Dixie okay?”

  “Physically...yes. Emotionally she’s a wreck.”

  Dixie taking the loss of their baby hard comforted Gavin in an odd way. They hadn’t planned this pregnancy. Neither of them had been ready for parenthood, yet Dixie mourned for their child despite the fact that she was suddenly free of any long-term obligation. His chest felt numb...his hands cold. “How did she lose the baby?” He envisioned Dixie tumbling off a stepladder at the shop or tripping on the sidewalk.

  “The doctor said sometimes these things happen and there’s no real explanation why.”

  “She’s been working too hard.” He’d gone off to rodeo and left Dixie to handle the shop on her own. “I should have stayed and—”

  “Don’t blame yourself, Gavin. It wasn’t your fault or Dixie’s. It just happened.” Johnny cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’ll want to see her in the morning.”

  Did Dixie want to see him?

  “I’ll scrounge up an extra blanket and pillow. You can sleep on the couch.” Johnny paused at the door. “And, Gavin?”

  “What?”

  “Keep things light between you and Dixie in the morning. She needs cheering up.”

  * * *

  DIXIE WOKE TO THE SUN shining through her bedroom window. She squinted at the bright light. There was nothing sunny about the day ahead. She shifted on the mattress, the dull ache inside her still present. Her eyes misted. She’d cried so hard and so long Monday night after she’d returned from the hospital that there weren’t any tears left inside her...just mist.

  Her gaze fixated on the jewelry box her grandmother gave her. If she focused on an inanimate object long enough maybe she’d find the strength to dress for the day. She couldn’t afford to spend another twenty-four hours in bed dwelling on the baby. She had to keep busy. Occupy her mind with other things. After breakfast she’d drive into Yuma and open the shop.

  She swung her legs off the side of the mattress and sat up. She breathed deeply then grimaced. She needed a shower and her hair needed a shampoo. As if removed from her body, she shuffled across the room and rummaged through the dresser drawer. Clean clothes in hand she padded down the hall, noticing her brothers’ bedroom doors stood open. Hopefully they’d left for the day—she wanted the house to herself.

  The warm shower felt wonderful and Dixie stood beneath the pulsing water until it cooled. After drying off she smoothed lotion on her body and brushed her teeth. Once she blew her hair dry, she secured the long strands in a ponytail and went downstairs. She froze in the hallway.

  Gavin. Asleep on the living room couch, his sock feet hanging over the edge.

  Her eyes misted. Again.

  Damn her brothers for interfering. She’d insisted she’d tell Gavin about the baby when she was ready. She was not ready right now. She fled to the kitchen where she found a note on the fridge, held in place by a saguaro magnet.

  Porter and Buck opened the gift shop today. The rest of us are heading over to the Johnsons’ to put a new roof on their barn. Call if you need anything. Johnny.

  More mist in her eyes. Maybe by the end of the day she’d produce enough moisture to form a teardrop.

  Dixie removed the carton of orange juice from the fridge, then promptly returned it to the shelf and shut the door. Her reason for eating healthy was...gone. She started a pot of coffee and gazed out the window above the sink. She had no idea how to handle things between her and Gavin.

  Now that there was no baby she couldn’t expect Gavin to keep paying the mortgage on the gift shop and she couldn’t afford to buy him out. She supposed they’d have to put the place up for sale. Dixie didn’t know how long she gazed out the window before Gavin’s image materialized in the sparkling glass. Bracing herself, she faced him.

  He looked tired and rumpled after a night on the couch. Their gazes locked. Neither moved. Neither spoke. The air thickened and silence echoed through the room in thunderous waves. Just when she feared she’d pass out from holding her breath, Gavin moved across the room and pulled her close, his hug firm.

  Dixie’s defenses were at an all-time low and she had no willpower to resist Gavin. In fact she desperately welcomed his sympathy. She could have stood in his arms forever—warm, safe and protected from reality. But touching Gavin...absorbing his comfort...breathing his scent...would only make the goodbye more difficult.

  Slowly, as if her arms were lead pipes instead of flesh and bone, she released her hold and attempted to pull away.

  Gavin held her prisoner, tightening his hold. Then he did the unthinkable—he kissed the top of her head, the gesture weakening her defenses.

  Hadn’t she bawled enough since Monday? She collapsed against Gavin, her tears soaking the front of his shirt.

  He caressed her shoulders, uttered meaningless phrases in her ear and kissed her neck, his rough whiskers pricking her jaw. She cried forever—until the rumble of his deep voice filtered into her ear.

  “What?” she choked out.

  “Coffee’s done.”

  She slipped from his embrace, wiped her eyes on a dish towel and poured two mugs of coffee. They sat across from each other at the table, Gavin’s face sober. Sad. Concerned. Self-consciously she touched her cheeks. Three days of sobbing had left her with puffy eyes and blotchy skin. “What time did you get here last night?”

  “After you’d already gone to bed.” He frowned. “If you called me, I’m sorry. My phone’s been turning off on its own. I need to upgrade to a new model.”

  She’d attempted to contact Gavin from the hospital before she’d lost the baby. Afterward, she hadn’t had the courage to tell him. “Are you hungry?”

  He shook his head.

  Dixie hated beating around the bush. “Did Johnny tell you?”

  “I’m sorry, Dixie.”

  She watched for a sign of how deeply the loss of their baby affected him, but his face remained expressionless. Playing the tough guy came naturally to a man who’d been in the army.

  “How are things at the shop?” he asked.

  Startled by the change in subject, it took Dixie a moment to formulate a response. “Fine.”

  “Christmas will be here soon,” he said. “Are you going to run any specials?” He grinned. “Two-for-one deals?”

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead.” That he didn’t ask questions about the baby hurt. He must be relieved to be free of the responsibility of fatherhood.

  “Do you ski?” he asked.

  Why were they talking about skiing? “I went skiing once with Shannon. I sprained my knee and never tried it again.”

  “I might head up to the White Mountains this winter and take a few lessons.”

  Gavin rose from his chair and took his mug to the sink. “It’s a beautiful day. You feel like taking a drive and grabbing breakfast out?”

  Sunshine didn’t equate to a beautiful day. And no, she didn’t feel up to a drive. “I’m not in the mood, thanks.”

  “There’s a rodeo in Goodyear next weekend.”

  That Gavin kept bringing up the future pointed to the obvious—he didn’t view himself as tied down anymore. He was off the hook for being a father and a husband. So why all the chitchat? Why didn’t Gavin come right out and say he intended to hit the road for good?

  He’s too honorable. Gavin was principled to the core and would not end their engagement or call off the wedding, because he was a man of his word and when he made a promise or a pledge he saw it through. He’d wait for Dixie to sever their relationship.

  “You could come to the rodeo in Goodyear if one of your brothers will watch the gift shop.”

  “Gavin, stop.” Ignoring his startled stare s
he said, “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Pretend nothing has changed between us.”

  “I’m not following.”

  Dixie had lost Gavin—a man who’d turned out to be more than she’d ever dreamed of. “There’s no baby so there’s no need for a wedding.”

  He remained silent—more proof in Dixie’s mind that calling off the wedding was exactly what he’d hoped she’d do.

  “We don’t need to make any decisions right away,” he said.

  Darn him for pretending to care. “I’ll try my best to cover the mortgage payments on the shop.”

  “The shop was a gift. As far as the monthly mortgage I’m more than happy—”

  “No.”

  He studied her for a long while, but Dixie wouldn’t back down. Nor would she take charity. Then why did you accept the gift shop in the first place? She’d done it for the baby—not herself.

  “I’ll finish the repairs to the store that I didn’t get to before the grand opening.”

  “Thanks, but my brothers can handle a few minor fix-it problems.”

  Gavin cleared his throat. “Then I guess there’s no reason to stay.”

  Dixie wanted to scream, “Stay for me. For us.” The words stuck to the sides of her throat. “You’re free to go.”

  The stillness in the room suffocated her and she feared she’d pass out. Gavin inched toward the door. “See you...”

  She hoped not. The nicest thing Gavin could do for her was remain as far away as possible. Running into him would remind her of what she’d almost had—a baby...a husband...a family of her own.

  She felt compelled to speak as she followed him to the door. “Good luck with your rodeo career.” Now that she was no longer his obligation, Gavin could concentrate on his bareback riding.

  “If you need anything...call.”

  “Thanks, but I won’t...” Need you.

  Hand on the knob he glanced over his shoulder and Dixie yearned to kiss him one more time. Don’t you dare. If she kissed Gavin she’d never have the courage to kick him out of her life. She’d resort to every female trick in the book to keep him by her side.

  The only way to end this torture was to part ways. “Safe travels, Gavin.” After the door shut, she peeked out the window and watched him walk to his truck. He paused, fingers on the door handle, as he studied the ground for the longest time.

  Go, Gavin. Get in the truck and leave. Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.

  Dixie spun away. Leaning her back against the wall, she lowered herself until her rump hit the floor. Drawing her knees to her chest she buried her face in her hands. The rumble of Gavin’s truck engine echoed outside. Then blessed silence.

  There. It was done. Over. Finished.

  Dixie was back to being alone again.

  * * *

  GAVIN LEFT STAGECOACH and drove with no particular destination in mind, afraid if he stopped, he’d think. He didn’t want to reflect on Dixie losing the baby. Him losing Dixie. His survival instincts kicked in and a numbness settled deep in his bones, protecting him from the pain. He drove for hours, stopping for gas and food once.

  Fatigue and hunger compelled him to pull into a Love’s Travel Plaza at 10:00 p.m. Where the hell am I? He must have passed a dozen highway signs yet he hadn’t read any of them. He parked next to a car with a New Mexico license plate and got out. He winced as a muscle spasm gripped his calf when he took his first step. He limped on, his wobbly gait drawing stares from an older couple leaving the building. Inside the truck stop he noticed a banner above the entrance to the convenience store—Welcome to Albuquerque.

  After using the bathroom Gavin sat at a table in the adjoining restaurant and flipped over the white mug. A waitress named Heather filled the cup with coffee and left a menu. “Be back in a jiffy.”

  Gavin perused his options until the waitress returned. “What can I get you?” she asked.

  “Are there any specials?”

  “Sorry.” Heather shook her head, her blond curls bouncing against her face. “Mac—” she nodded toward the kitchen “—cooks a mean breakfast.”

  Gavin skimmed the breakfast items. “I’ll take the Number 1 with wheat toast and sausage instead of bacon.”

  “Sure thing.” Heather placed silverware on the table then hurried off.

  Gavin sat in a stupor, sipping his coffee. A baby’s shrill cry interrupted his trance. A woman toting an infant carrier walked through the dining area and picked a table in the middle of the room—right in Gavin’s line of vision. He was powerless to look away as the young mother placed the carrier on a chair and removed the baby. She pressed her lips to the top of the infant’s fuzzy head and the baby’s cries softened to a whimper.

  The numbness that had protected Gavin from his thoughts slowly melted and a burning tingle spread through his chest as he acknowledged what he and Dixie had lost. Their baby had been real...yet not real. Shoot, Dixie hadn’t begun showing before she’d lost the baby. And sadly he hadn’t gone to a doctor’s appointment and seen his child’s image through an ultrasound nor had he felt the baby kick in Dixie’s stomach.

  The infant across the room was dressed from head to booties in blue—a boy. When a young man joined the woman and reached for the baby, Gavin curled his fingers into a fist. What would it have felt like to hold his child? He wished he’d asked Dixie if the baby had been a boy or girl.

  A son or a daughter.

  Losing their child was painful but Dixie cutting him loose was crippling. She’d been his reason...his strength to move forward with his life and put the ugliness of his past behind him. Without her by his side, Gavin feared all the progress he’d made toward burying his demons would be lost.

  He guessed it didn’t matter what he wanted because what he wanted—Dixie—didn’t want him back. Gavin was left with no choice but to move on.

  To what?

  To the one thing he sucked at—rodeo.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Thank you for stopping in.” Dixie flashed a saccharine smile. As soon as the woman left the store another walked in. Keeping her smile in place she said, “Let me know if I can help you with anything.”

  Dixie glanced at the wall calendar behind the counter. Today was Friday, November 3. A dull ache spread through her chest. Tomorrow would have been her and Gavin’s wedding. The days since he’d left Stagecoach dragged by for Dixie—probably because her every other thought drifted to Gavin.

  Where was he?

  Did he mourn the baby they’d lost?

  Did he miss her?

  The bell on the door jingled again. Mildred Hinkle. The old biddy had dropped by every day since she’d heard about Dixie’s miscarriage—thanks to Johnny’s big mouth. Worried about her depression her brother had asked Mildred to keep an eye on her. She appreciated that Millie—Dixie had joined the Main Street Merchants League and was now allowed to call Mrs. Hinkle by her nickname—had offered a sympathetic ear if Dixie felt like discussing her miscarriage and broken engagement. Dixie preferred to keep her feelings to herself.

  “Hello, Millie. How’s business at your end of the block?”

  “Oh, fine, dear.” After years of being a curmudgeon, Mildred had little experience cheering people up, but Dixie appreciated her efforts. Mildred motioned to the half-empty Christmas display on the counter. “Your preholiday sales are doing well.”

  “Sales this week have been incredibly...”

  Mildred blinked. “Incredibly what, dear?”

  Was Mildred behind the increase in shoppers browsing Dixie’s Desert Delights the past few days? “Millie, have you been sending your customers my way?”

  “I might
have suggested they check out your soap selection...”

  Annoyed by Mildred’s confession, Dixie swallowed a sharp retort. If people didn’t stop pitying her she’d never gain the strength to forget Gavin—as if that was even possible. “Thank you for the referrals, Millie, but everyone’s on tight budgets these days. You can’t afford to turn down sales.”

  “I’ve been in business for over twenty years and I have more loyal customers than I know what to do with.”

  No use arguing with the Main Street matriarch. “I think I’ll close up early today,” Dixie said. Pretending to be happy exhausted her.

  “Good idea. You need your rest.”

  Dixie walked Mildred to the door.

  “You’re feeling better now?” Mildred asked.

  A loaded question if ever there was one. “I am.”

  “Good. See you tomorrow.”

  As soon as Dixie shut the door behind Mildred she flipped the sign in the window to Closed. When she turned away she came face-to-face with a customer. “Good grief, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lock you inside.”

  “That’s all right. If it’s not too late, I’d like to buy these.” She held out three bars of soap.

  “Certainly.” Dixie rang up the purchase then thanked the woman and let her out. Dixie spent an hour straightening the shop for the next day. When there was nothing more to do, she resigned herself to heading back to the farm—her least favorite place to be now.

  The farm had once been her refuge but memories of Gavin followed her everywhere—from the barn to her bedroom to the kitchen to the pecan grove behind the house. If confronting Gavin’s memory at the farm wasn’t difficult enough then her brothers’ attempts to cheer her up threatened to send her across the border.

  Resigned to her fate, Dixie drove to Stagecoach. As she passed through town an unbearable urge for a cold beer hit her and she swung into the parking lot of Gilly’s Tap House. A handful of trucks sat parked outside and none of them belonged to her brothers.