by Tina Leonard
And she’d found Saint. But she was no different from Anna, chasing something she knew couldn’t be right for her. He didn’t want a serious relationship, and she hadn’t accomplished her goals.
Deviating from the plan could have serious consequences, and then what? She’d end up with nothing: no real job, no potential for one. When Judy left, the team had folded, or at least been put on hold, and now Cameron was down to the last fifty bucks in her account.
Just enough for gas to Houston. Though maybe not even enough for that, actually, since she’d be hauling Charlie’s trailer.
Anna might have some cash on her—but she doubted it. Her sister wasn’t the type to plan ahead. For Anna, the future was the next ten minutes. Of course, that was a youth thing, but it was also an Anna thing. Cameron wasn’t sure what she was going to do about her sister after she got her home. Anna needed structure, and maybe a purpose, a life goal. Something to straighten her head out a little.
All the years of dysfunction in the Dix household tended to add up. Cameron knew as well as anyone how glad she’d been to finally give up the role she’d been playing in the dysfunction—that of mother—and go off in search of her own dreams.
She parked her truck, once again silently thanked the kind denizens of Hell for her new tires, and walked across to the Honky-tonk. Because it was early evening, things weren’t in full swing yet. A few customers milled around, but very few of Ivy’s girls were lounging in their usual places under the great chandelier. Dee Tompkins was behind the bar, and she nodded to Cameron.
“In her office,” she told Cameron.
“Thanks.”
“Wait up,” she heard a voice say on a rush behind her, “I’m coming with you.”
She turned. “Anna! What the hell?”
Anna grinned, pleased with herself. “Stowaway. Should check your truck bed on occasion.”
She’d been so entranced by the shiny new look and the feel on the road of her new tires—no balding of the tread meant a much smoother ride—that she hadn’t even thought to check the bed. But she should have, because it was a favorite method of transportation, and sometimes sleeping, of Eli Larson’s.
“You can’t be in here,” she told her sister. “First, you’re not of legal drinking age. No minors allowed.”
Anna’s grin widened. “From the looks of things, rules are made to be broken around here.”
“And second,” Cameron continued, not letting the truth of Anna’s observation take any indignation out of her, “this is no place for you!”
“I promise it won’t stunt me any more than I’ve already been stunted. Hurry up with whatever business you’re conducting.” Anna raised a brow. “It’s a bit shady in here. Frankly, I’m surprised at you. Doesn’t square with your squeaky-clean persona.”
“Anna,” Cameron said, her tone warning.
“Anyway, let’s hurry. I saw a doughnut shop on the way in, and I’m starved!”
This wasn’t good, but there was little she could do about it at the moment. Harper was probably frantic, her “babysitting” skills in question. Harper took responsibilities seriously, so Cameron texted her to let her know Anna had escaped. She glared at her sister and huffed into Ivy’s office.
“Well,” Ivy said, “punctual as always.”
She smiled, and Cameron shrugged. Today Ivy’s hair was up in a ponytail, a style she’d never seen on her. In Hell, hair was a truly important accessory. Cameron had learned that from the wig excursion. The wigs sat on two Styrofoam heads on a table under Ivy’s window. Someone had drawn faces on the heads with a black marker, giving them a strange, otherworldly look. Cameron looked at Ivy, and Ivy laughed.
“That would be Buck’s and Jake’s artwork. They were competing to see who could draw the best face.”
Everything was a competition in Hell. Cameron shrugged. “Ivy, this is my sister, Anna.”
“Hello, Anna.” Ivy smiled her most charming smile. “Will you be in Hell long?”
“Not if my sister has anything to say about it,” Anna said. “She wants to save me from Hell.”
Ivy’s amused smile settled on Anna. “You’re a smart girl. How are your grades?”
“Mostly A’s,” Anna said modestly. “I got my first A-minus this year in Honors Geometry. Don’t say a word,” she told Cameron. “I had the flu the day I took the final.”
Ivy’s fine brows raised. “I didn’t realize you were the parental figure. In retrospect, I should have seen that.”
Cameron sat in one of the chairs facing Ivy’s desk, though she hadn’t been invited. There was no reason to stand on ceremony. Anna plunked down next to her, and blew one of her ever-present pink bubbles. “Meaning?”
“This hard-core responsibility thing you’ve got going on.” Ivy looked at her speculatively. “You know, I could use a manager around here with your skill set.”
“I’m going into law enforcement,” Cameron told her. “I think that’s more my style.”
Ivy’s eyes narrowed. “I pay very well.”
“Wow,” Anna said. “Mom would shit if you got a job in a whorehouse.”
“Young lady,” Ivy said sternly, “this is not a whorehouse.”
Anna sniffed. “Pretty sure it is.”
“Anna,” Cameron said, “if you put your lips together and keep them sealed for the five minutes it takes me to conduct this meeting, I’ll take you to the doughnut shop and let you have all the doughnuts you want.”
Anna considered that. “Okay. Additionally, I want you to take me to a bus stop. If I can’t stay in Hell with you, I’m not going home. I’ll take the bus to California.” She beamed at Ivy. “I’ll get a waitressing job so I can study acting. That’s my dream.”
Cameron looked at her sister. “No. No dream. You go home and finish your last few weeks of high school.”
Anna blew a bubble. “You followed your dream. I’m going to follow mine.”
“I graduated from high school and then had two years of junior college before I took time off to solely concentrate on riding and working! You have to at least graduate.”
“It’s so interesting to watch you two negotiate,” Ivy said. “Anna, when you graduate, I could use a bright girl—”
“Shut up, Ivy,” Cameron said, and Anna’s eyes goggled between the two women. “If you say one more word to my sister, I swear you’ll need those wigs. I’m bigger and stronger than you, and wicked fast with scissors.”
“There aren’t any scissors around,” Ivy said, scoffing. “This isn’t a beauty salon.”
Cameron pulled a pair of scissors from her crossbody bag. “I came prepared for anything and everything.”
“Holy shit,” Anna said.
“That’s one doughnut you just lost,” Cameron told her sister. “Do you understand me, Ivy? Don’t say another word to my sister.”
Ivy sighed. “Always so dramatic. You learned it from Judy.”
“Whatever. Now on to the business meeting. Why didn’t you show up for the parade? Why didn’t you and your team man your kissing booth?”
Ivy shrugged. “There was no profit in it for me.”
“It wasn’t about profit, as we discussed before. You’re an unreliable partner.” Cameron was annoyed. “But your girls have been taking lessons from me, which I’d donated. That means you owe me money. Here’s my bill for three hundred dollars. I’ll take that now, in cash.”
Ivy blinked. “I don’t think so.”
Cameron held up the scissors, snicked them twice. “Cash.”
Ivy looked at her long and hard. “I may have underestimated you.”
“Cash,” Cameron repeated.
Ivy sighed. “I swear, I could use you around here. My profits would go up immensely. You’re exactly what I need for management.”
“Cash, Ivy,” Cameron said, knowing it would kill her to give up any of her hoard.
Shaking her head, Ivy dug out a box and fiddled with the combination. Cameron got up, went to stand beside her.
>
“What are you doing, may I ask?” Ivy said, displeased.
“Making sure that all that comes out of that box is green,” Cameron said. “Quit stalling. Keep in mind I’m two inches from your crowning glory, and I’m armed and dangerous.” She snicked the long-handled scissors she’d borrowed from Buzz once again. These little babies were made to cut hair in a hurry, Buzz had told her. They sure seemed to have a mesmerizing effect on Ivy, because she pulled out a wad of cash, counted it out carefully, and handed a stack to Cameron.
Cameron handed it to Anna. “Count that.”
Her sister did, quickly. Cameron didn’t take her gaze off Ivy, who glared at her.
“It’s all here,” Anna said.
“Thank you,” Cameron said. “I’m taking these wigs with me, by the way.” She left Ivy’s side and gathered up the two heads.
“Have you heard from my cousin?”
“No.” Cameron looked at her. “Have you?”
Ivy shrugged. “All I know is that she’s been really sick from the chemo. And I think she may have had something removed, but she was real cagey about that.”
Cameron’s heart plummeted. Judy was sicker than she’d let on.
“Does Steel know why Judy left?” Ivy asked.
“No. And you’re not going to tell him.” Cameron glared at her. “Not one word, Ivy. Not a hint, not anything to tip him off. Or you and I won’t be friends any longer.”
Ivy looked at Anna. “I feel a little sorry for you, growing up with a sister like this.”
Anna’s gaze was full of admiration as she gazed at Cameron. “Don’t be. I’m going to be just like her in a few years!”
—
“Were you really going to cut off her hair?” Anna asked, digging into her bag of doughnuts and coming up with a chocolate cake doughnut shaped with wavy curves all around it. “Don’t answer that. Since you cut our hair when we were little, I can assume the answer is yes. You know your way around a pair of scissors.”
She licked her fingers happily. Cameron didn’t reply. She was enjoying the breeze blowing in through the open window as she drove, and the warm sun on her arm, but her mind was racing as she drove to the training center. She’d returned the scissors to Buzz, thanking him. He’d grinned and handed Anna a lollipop, which, along with the bag of doughnuts she’d bought from Cotton Carmichael’s wife, meant a sugar high was in the offing. The good thing was, with the money she’d gotten from Ivy, she now had plenty of money to make it home, and enough for a meal for her and Anna on the way. So far, it had been a productive morning.
Harper came running out of the barn when Cameron drove in, accosting Anna as she climbed out with her bag of doughnuts.
“Young lady, you apologize this second!” Harper said to Anna.
“I am sorry,” Anna said, and Cameron was surprised to hear some semblance of contrition in her voice. “I just wanted to be with my sister.”
Harper’s gaze glanced to Cameron, but only for a second. “Be that as it may, did it ever occur to you that what you want isn’t always the most important thing? You scared your mother half out of her wits because she thought you were pregnant, and as a single mother myself, I can tell you that your whole life changes. And I don’t think you’re ready for those changes. You can’t go running off whenever you want to if you do something like get pregnant in high school.” She glared at Anna. “You’ve completely changed your sister’s life, because now she’s quit the team so she can take you back home to Houston.”
Anna’s face took on a downcast look of remorse, but Cameron wasn’t about to interrupt Harper’s lecture, even if she felt a tiny bit sorry for her little sister.
“And did it ever occur to you that I could use the help?” Harper asked Anna. “I’m fully willing to pay for babysitting services from a responsible worker.”
Anna pulled the red lollipop from her mouth. “You mean,” she said, glancing from Harper to Cameron, “that I can stay in Hell for a while if I can prove I’m responsible?”
“That’s up to your sister to decide.” Harper looked at Cameron. “Why are you carrying two wigs on Styrofoam heads with really badly drawn faces?”
“These are the artistic renderings of Buck and Jake. There are obviously no Leonardo da Vincis among the Horsemen.”
“Who’re the Horsemen?” Anna asked.
“Nobody you’ll be meeting if you’re accepting a job as my sitter.” Harper took the wig heads from Cameron. “I assume these will need to go to Judy’s office.”
“Yes. I think Judy’s going to need them.”
She followed Harper to her truck. Anna tagged along behind, after tossing her candy into the trash.
“What did you find out from Ivy?” Harper asked, putting the wigs carefully into her truck.
“That Judy’s dealing with more than she let on.” Cameron looked at the clear blue sky overhead, spun with slight strands of wispy clouds. There were probably twenty-five horses turned out, enjoying the glorious day. Somewhere she could hear someone hammering, probably repairing a fence. It really was beautiful in Hell. She wished she could stay forever.
But she couldn’t. “I know secret-keeping is a fine art in Hell, but I’m beginning to wonder if maybe we should bend that rule.”
Harper closed her truck door. “You mean tell Steel about Judy.”
“What do you think?” Cameron asked Harper.
“I think a secret’s a secret,” Anna piped up.
They looked at her.
“That’s the part that bothers me.” It was hard to know what to do, though Cameron thought silence was probably golden in this case.
“And then there’s Judy’s privacy. You know Judy. She’s too independent to want Steel’s help, too courageous to want him to suffer, and too vain to want him to see her without hair,” Harper said.
“Or breasts,” Cameron murmured, thinking about Ivy’s brief hint of something being removed. Ivy hadn’t been too sure, either. Judy was being very close with her information. Which meant she wanted nothing getting back to Steel. “Maybe it was just a lumpectomy or something. Not like that is nothing in itself…I’m worried about her.”
“Well, hair will grow back, and breasts can be rebuilt.” Harper shook her head. “But trust can’t be rebuilt, not really. And Ivy should never have told us. Especially since there’s nothing we can do but worry.”
Cameron nodded. “My first instinct in the beginning was that Ivy was making trouble by telling us, that she wanted Steel to know because she knew how much it would bother Judy. Now I wonder if she’s telling us what’s going on because she’s concerned.”
Harper scoffed. “If you think for one minute that Ivy’s getting soft, you need to stop going out there. Don’t fall under her spell.”
This was true, too. “Maybe I’m the one getting soft.”
“Now there’s a thought,” Harper said, and Cameron glanced at her sharply.
“Do you have something you want to say, Harper?” she asked, and Anna glanced at her in surprise at her sharp tone.
“Yes, I do. You can’t quit the team just because a spoiled brat decided to not take her turn in the family dynamic. You didn’t leave home until you were, what, twenty-four?” She looked at Anna, and back to Cameron. “Why are you giving up your dreams for her? Makes me wonder if you were ever as tough as everybody thought you were. You have the talent; you have the strength. But you can’t let anybody get in your way, not if it’s a real dream.”
Cameron folded her arms over her chest. “Anything else?”
“Yes. Quit being a wienie. I’m a single mother with a young son, blonde—yes, that matters—and a woman. Who do you really think is going to take me seriously enough to let me into an arena with bulls?” She glared at Cameron. “Stiffen your spine and figure out what you want. But don’t let this selfish, sugar-high, all-about-me kid suck up your life. Come on, Anna.”
Cameron stared after them as Anna followed close on Harper’s boots.
“
Whoa,” Saint said. “I just happened to catch the tail end of that. What’s going on?”
Cameron looked at him. Big and tall, dark hair straying under his straw Resistol, Saint was a hot dream of a man. He was also a rascal. She knew that.
But she’d put him on ice because she was scared. And Harper was right: She couldn’t lean on the excuse Anna provided. Anna was the escape, not the problem.
The problem was Saint. And the fact that she’d fallen head over heels, irreparably in love with him. A rascal, but one who drove her crazy with sex and lust and craving his mouth on her body and him in her arms, inside her. There wasn’t an hour of the day that she didn’t think about how much she felt when she was with him.
“I’m planning on taking Anna back to Houston today.”
He raised a brow. “I heard something like that through the grapevine. I also heard, though the same grapevine, that you’re quitting the team.”
He didn’t come closer, though they were alone. His eyes were shaded under his hat, but she could read tension in his stance as he stood there with his hands on his lean hips. “I was going to say goodbye, Saint,” she said softly.
“The hell you were. And just for the record, nobody quits my team without a damn good reason.”
Chapter 17
Cameron was leaving him.
Saint had heard this from reliable sources—everybody in Hell was a reliable source when it came to meddling in someone’s love life—and he’d rejected the gossip soundly.
But right now, looking at how her pretty face was steeped in guilt, he knew she was planning her exit. Just like that—as if nothing mattered here in Hell: not the team, not Hell itself, and certainly not him.
“I’m sorry, Saint. I have to do what’s best for my family.”
“You haven’t been home except for holidays in over a year, and suddenly, you shipping out is the best thing?” He shook his head. “I’m just not buying it, cupcake.”
“Don’t call me ‘cupcake,’ ” she snapped. “You know nothing about me at all.”
