Too Hot To Trot (#3, Cowboy Way)

by Becky McGraw

  He scrambled across the blanket and took her hand, held her eyes. “But eventually you washed up on a bank somewhere and put down roots, grew and made a life for yourself. Against all odds, you grew and blossomed. I’m so damned proud to know you. You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

  To her surprise, Zack took his hat off to hold it over his heart. Her heart took a long, slow dip in her chest before bouncing back in place when he dropped her hand to shove his into his pocket. He froze when his phone rang, and cursed.

  He laid his hat down to stuff his other hand into his opposite pocket, pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen, then frowned. “Unknown,” he commented, pushing a button to connect the call. Zack sat back on his heels and listened for a minute, his frown deepened, his eyes darted to hers, then he held out the phone. “It’s Leigh Anderson.”

  An electric jolt zinged through her body, and it went numb as she reached for the phone. Her hand shook when she brought it to her ear. “Ms. Anderson?” she asked.

  The woman on the other end of the line laughed. “It’s Leigh—and you’re a very hard woman to catch up to, Heather. Thank goodness you left this number with the rodeo. I’ve been trying to catch up to you since your gig there. Glen Parsons wouldn’t return my calls, which didn’t surprise me. That man is a snake, and I strongly suggest you give him the boot.”

  “Welcome to the club,” Heather replied with a dry laugh. “He won’t return mine either, because he owes me money. I’m done with him.”

  “Well, you won’t need that money for long, because I have a proposition for you.”

  A proposition? The words and their possible meaning worked through Heather’s system to float like butterflies in her stomach. “What kind of proposition did you have in mind?” Heather’s eyes darted to Zack, who was still frowning, as he listened intently.

  “I want you to open for Jase Sutter on his tour that starts in a couple of weeks,” Leigh replied, and Heather’s heart skidded to a stop.

  When it started again, it beat in double-time in her ears. “Tour with Jase Sutter?” Heather repeated, her voice barely a squeak.

  Her eyes flew to Zack’s and she saw disappointment there, and not a little fear. He looked so damned sad, her heart melted to her toes. She held his eyes, and the words flew out of her mouth without permission. “I’m sorry, Leigh. I have a job now, and can’t leave. I’m happy here, and don’t want to leave. I’m sure you can find someone else.”

  Had she just turned down the golden opportunity she’d been working toward for eight years? For a man? Yes she had, and she wasn’t sorry.

  Heather hadn’t lied when she said she was happy at this ranch, with this man. He was an asshole sometimes, irritated her to no end, but Zack was also kind, caring and loving more often than not. Since she’d know him, fallen in love with him, Heather hadn’t realized it, but her priorities had changed, and so had her visions of a perfect life. There wasn’t any more perfect life for her than staying right here, taking care of Zack Taylor, and having his love.

  “Are you sure? This is a big deal, Heather. I can give you a week to think about it. I really want you,” Leigh Anderson said, her voice sounding surprised.

  Heather swallowed hard, fell into the angry blue pool of Zack’s eyes and drowned. “I’m sure, Leigh. I appreciate the opportunity, but I’m not changing my mind. Not in a week or a year.” She would never change her mind. Zack Taylor was it for her, and her soul lightened just a little with that realization. She couldn’t imagine her life now without him.

  “Just think about it,” Leigh said, and Heather hung up the phone.

  Zack dragged his eyes away, picked his hat up and put it on his head, before he shoved up to his feet and picked up his boots. He bent to grab the edge of the blanket and pulled it up. “Get up, we’re going back to the house. I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “I thought we were going to have a picnic?” Heather asked sadly, pushing up to her feet.

  “Not in the mood now, and by the time I get back out there the guys will be back,” he said gruffly, tossing the blanket over his arm. Before she could stop him, Zack walked toward the cart, and Heather followed, wondering at his sour attitude. She’d just given up everything she’d ever wanted in her life, dreamed of, because of him. He should be happy, and she shouldn’t be worrying if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “I won’t be in until after dark,” Zack said morosely, as he brushed past her to walk to the kitchen door. He didn’t even kiss her, and Heather’s heart broke a little more. Chip by chip, it had been breaking since that afternoon out by the pond a week ago. He’d changed toward her, his attitude was still as sour as it had been, and she was about tired of it.

  “Take a sleeping bag and sleep with your fucking horse tonight,” she growled, as she slammed a mixing bowl down into the sink.

  “I probably will. Need to be up early tomorrow to move the broncs to another field, so we can reseed the pasture. Don’t wait up for me,” he said as he twisted the door knob, and opened the door.

  “I’m about tired of this crap, Zack Taylor,” Heather said, walking around the counter to put her hands on her hips.

  “Leave then,” he said, as he slammed the door behind him and it rattled on the hinges.

  Leave then. Leave then. Leave then. The words circled around her heart, blowing away the pieces. What was left hardened into a solid mass in her chest.

  “I will then,” she mumbled, as she walked to the bedroom to find her disposable cell phone. Heather still had minutes left, and had looked at the number on Zack’s phone enough over the last week to memorize it. That is how many times she’d considered calling Leigh Anderson to tell her she’d changed her mind.

  Now, she was sure that’s what she needed to do. Over the last week, Zack Taylor had changed back into the grumpy bastard he’d been when she first met him. This was not the man she fell in love with, or the one she wanted to stay with.

  Heather had plenty of time alone to rethink her decision too. She knew if she didn’t take the opportunity Leigh offered her, she would always wonder what would have happened, where she would be, if she’d made a different decision.

  This was the best for both of them.

  Maybe he’d miss her once she left, change his attitude. If he didn’t, then it wasn’t meant to be. They could both move on, and she’d just have to be happy with her new life. An exciting life that included being able to sing again. Something she loved right now more than she loved the surly cowboy who’d broken her heart. Blowing out a breath, Heather disconnected her phone from the charger and dialed Leigh’s number.

  Leigh was excited enough for both of them when she talked to her, and she was on her way to pick Heather up. Heather loaded up her suitcase, then dragged it to the front door. While she waited, she tried to work up some enthusiasm for what she was doing, but not a single spark could make its way past the coldness inside her. Heather felt numb, and like at any minute she would burst into tears. Nothing about leaving here felt right, but over the last week she’d definitely read Zack’s message to her that she’d overstayed her welcome here. His arm was healed, so he didn’t need her anymore. Her problems were solved, Jack’s plea deal had been accepted by the judge and he was in prison.

  Everything was resolved and now there was nothing left for them.

  Zack said he loved her, but obviously he’d either changed his mind, or decided he didn’t love her enough to keep her around now. That hurt like hell, ripped her damned heart out, but she just needed to accept it. She was leaving without saying goodbye, her only regret, but in the mood he was in, she doubted Zack would notice—or care.

  Leave then. Those two words would be forever branded in her brain, because they rolled around and around in her head for the two hours she sat on her suitcase by the front door, until a horn excitedly blew outside. With a knot in her throat, Heather stood, took one more longing glance around the house,
then picked up her suitcase.

  Goodbye, cowboy, I love you.

  Two weeks later, Heather still didn’t have the enthusiasm to load Haley Morgan’s trunk with the brand new performance wardrobe she and Leigh had bought the week before. She needed to find that enthusiasm, because she had a packed schedule for the next few months. They were hitting the road in the morning, and wouldn’t be back until nearly Thanksgiving.

  Maybe by the time they made it back to Dallas, she’d have her mind right. It certainly wasn’t right at the moment. Those tears that seemed to be right there under the surface most of the time were trying to shove their way out today. Sucking in a deep breath, she stood, threw the things littered on the bed into the suitcase, then snapped it shut. Just like she snapped her heart shut on thoughts of Zack Taylor.

  The connecting door opened, and Leigh stuck her head inside and smiled. “You ready for Buddy to take your case to the bus?” she asked, with the excitement Heather needed to find for this adventure.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, with a huffed breath.

  “Forget him. He’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve one minute of your time. He has my number and hasn’t called you in two weeks,” Leigh said, her smile fading.

  Heather had to explain what happened with Zack to Leigh. There was no getting around it when she got into her car and immediately burst into tears when they turned out of the driveway. “I left without saying goodbye, or telling him where I was going,” she reminded, and felt her lower lip tremble. “He wouldn’t know where to call or find me.”

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” Leigh stepped inside the room, and shut the connecting door. She held out her hand and her cell phone was in her palm. “You’re going to call him, and tell him where you’re going. I don’t want to get out on the road and have to replace you. That way he’ll know where to find you, and if he doesn’t try, you’ll have your closure.”

  Heather looked at the phone, her heart beat in her ears as she considered the suggestion, she chewed on it, then took the phone. Leigh gave her a sympathetic smile at the door, opened it and closed it behind her. Should she call him? What would he say to her? What if what he said to her made things worse?

  If he does, you’ll at least know where you stand and not feel so guilty for what you did.

  He was probably livid that she’d left without a word, so he might very well say something that made things worse just because he was pissed at her. Zack Taylor could be damned mean when he was mad. You’re the most courageous woman I’ve ever met.

  Heather gathered up that courage, but her hand shook as she dialed his number. When it rang and rang, she waited, thought about hanging up, but finally left a message telling him exactly where she was if he ever wanted to find her.

  Now, it was up to him. Her conscience was clear, as she started this new path in life, and she could go forward without looking back wondering what if she’d stayed.

  ***

  Zack was as miserable as he’d ever been in his life. His days were the same, day in and out. Monotonous—the most boring existence he could ever have imagined living. Today was the worst of all, because it made six months from the day Heather had walked out on him. Since he pushed her to leave him. He knew that, because he counted off every one of those days the same way. By working himself into the ground on the ranch, then drinking himself to sleep at night.

  Not one day went by that he didn’t think about her, dream about her. Drink whiskey to forget about her. Zack didn’t care—he was doing what he needed to do to survive just like she had for so many years. Nothing mattered to him anymore, except that. Not even the lucrative stock contracts he’d negotiated for the next season, or the fact that three bulls in his herd made enough points to rank in the top ten last season, which upped the amount of those contracts.

  The only thing he cared about was that his efforts weren’t in vain.

  Every time he saw her name on the internet scheduled for some new performance, or her photos at some new venue with Jase Sutter, he knew he’d made the right decision, one she wouldn’t have made on her own. That was the only thing that kept him from going crazy for doing the totally insane thing that he’d done. Letting her go, instead of giving her the ring that now had a shrine in his dresser drawer. Beside Bob, who she’d somehow left behind when she packed up the day she left.

  She’d probably replaced both of them by now. A woman that beautiful and talented wouldn’t stay single long. She was meant to be loved, Zack just wasn’t the man meant to love her. His world meant roots, and being tied down. She needed the freedom to fly, find out who she was, and Zack had set her free to do that. He would survive this, because he knew she was finally flying, doing what she was born to do. The floodwaters of a hard life had finally planted her where she belonged, on a stage singing in the big leagues, and the sun was shining for her. He was happy for her, and one day, he’d be happy again too, but that day was not today.

  Today had been hella rough, was still rough.

  Zack lifted the half-empty bottle to his lips again, and welcomed the burn of the whiskey down his throat. He noticed that the music had stopped instead of recycling the CD again, so he got up and stumbled over to the stereo to press the start button. Cowboys and Angels started playing, and he sighed as he staggered back over to the chair in his room and sat down.

  His eyes burned almost as badly as that whiskey had going down his throat, but he slammed them shut to lay his head on the back of the chair. He was going to get past this, move on. It just wasn’t today, he thought, opening his eyes to lift the bottle again. Blinding light pierced his brain, and Zack shot up in the chair.

  “What the fuck, Twyla?” he growled, setting the bottle down beside his chair, hoping she didn’t see him do it. The last thing he needed right now was to deal with her bitching.

  Tall and lanky, but with a now comically rounded belly testifying to the fact that the Taylor family would be growing by two very soon, Twyla waddled into the room. “That’s exactly my question to you, big brother,” she grated, leaning down to point a long, slightly swollen finger at him. “What in the hell is wrong with you? The whole family is here for Thanksgiving, you invited us here, and you’re sitting in your room in the dark listening to that damned song again!”

  She waddled over to push the off button on the stereo, then rounded on him. “Tell me what the hell happened between you and Heather.”

  Zack dragged his eyes down to the bottle. “None of your fucking business,” he growled, bending to pick up the bottle, but her toes appeared in his line of vision, and she bent down and grabbed it first.

  “Tell me what happened!” she demanded, grunting as she stood back up, and wobbled as she took a step back. “I swear if you make me go into labor out here in the boondocks, Ryan will kick your drunk ass!”

  “I damned sure will,” Ryan said as he walked into the room to stand beside her.

  His mother walked into the room and stood beside Ryan. They were ganging up on him, and Zack felt closed in. He pushed up from the chair, but plopped right back down when Ryan pushed him hard. “Sit right there, until you decide to talk. We’ve got nothing but time,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “We’ve been here two damned days and all you’ve done is mope, work your ass off and drink. Why the hell did you invite us here if you intended to ignore us?”

  “I have a turkey cooking, so start talking, Zachary Wayne.” The look on his mother’s face, her tone, made the throb in his head turn to a pound.

  Zack slapped a hand to his forehead, which made the throbbing get worse. “Can’t a man have his own business? In his own house?” he asked, with a moan.

  Why the hell did he invite them all over for Thanksgiving? He knew he wasn’t fit for polite company, hadn’t been in a very long time, would probably be the same next Thanksgiving.

  Because you didn’t want to be alone.

  “Not when he has a family who loves him, and sees him wallowing like you�
��re wallowing,” his mother shot back. “A man should be thankful he has a family who cares about him.”

  When Zack saw his father walk through the bedroom door, he knew he was firmly backed into a corner. They were not going to let it go, or leave him alone until he talked.

  “She left me,” he said flatly. “I don’t think that takes much explanation.”

  “Oh it does when I saw how you were making googly eyes at each other and I caught you two doing the wild thing when we were here,” his mother said.

  Zack’s eyes flew to hers, and a feeling not unlike the time he was caught making out with Carrie Lawson in the barn when he was fifteen came over him. “Good God, Momma!” Zack shrieked as he stood up. “I guess there’s still not much that misses your eagle eyes, but I’m a grown damned man now, so that is not your business anymore!”

  Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pinched. “Watch your mouth and your tone, mister. When it makes you look the way you look these days, do the things you’re doing. Then it is definitely my business! I don’t give a damn if you’re a grown man—you’re still my son, Zachary Wayne Thomas and it’s my job to worry about you.”

  Zack’s body deflated on a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Momma. You’re right, I just miss her. I’ll get over it, and life will go on. Just takes a little time.”

  “You love her,” Twyla accused, and Zack’s gaze flew to meet hers.

  “Doesn’t matter if I do—she’s gone. Just leave well enough alone, Twyla. She’s doing great, and I will be soon too. I promise!” Zack heaved frustrated breaths as the scabs over the wounds inside of him peeled away, and the hole in his gut burned like fire. He needed to be left alone, because his insides felt like his arm had the night this all started. Sliced, raw and bleeding. He needed some space, because he couldn’t breathe. “Will y’all please just give me some room?”

  “I’m taking the whiskey with me, and daddy’s locking the liquor cabinet,” Twyla announced as she turned toward the door. Ryan grabbed her arm to steady her, and they left. His daddy took his mother’s arm and she turned toward the door but stopped. “You have about twelve hours to get yourself together, son, because Twyla talked to her. Heather is coming to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, and you better not make her feel unwelcome.”