Last Second Chance

by Caisey Quinn

  The one thing they had in common was glaringly obvious.

  Him.

  “Guys, please relax. I’m fine.” Stella was winded from the fall, and her tailbone and back felt less than stellar. But she really was fine. The audience had been more than Shadowdancer was ready for. She felt guilty for having pushed him too far again.

  “You need to see a doctor, Stella Jo. At least let someone here check you out. You hit the ground hard.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at Van’s concern. The moment she’d caught her breath and sat up, he’d been wearing much more pain on his face than she was. Sure, they were sleeping together, but until she’d seen him white as a sheet and wringing his hands, she hadn’t known if his feelings for her were more than vagina-deep.

  Judging from the way he was pacing around her tiny bungalow, he cared quite a bit. His fawning over her while trying his best not to cross a whole slew of lines in front of Jesse Ramirez kept her from feeling the throbbing tenderness her fall had caused.

  “I promise, I’ll just be a little sore. Some ibuprofen and an ice pack and it’ll be like it never happened. I’ve taken much worse.”

  Van glared at her. She smiled.

  Jesse ran a hand through his hair. “At the very least, we should report it so that if you have issues later—”

  “Jesse, please. Please, pretty please, do not report anything.” Stella looked up at him with pleading eyes as Van handed her a baggie full of ice wrapped in a dishtowel.

  “I don’t have to include that, um, he was here.” He nodded towards Van.

  Stella closed her eyes. “This is all my fault.”

  “Accidents happen,” Jesse said quietly.

  Stella wondered if he meant the incident with Shadowdancer or her relationship with Van.

  “So, um, I’m just going to get some rest. I appreciate the concern, boys. But I’m tougher than I look. You’d be surprised the level of pain I can withstand.”

  Van’s breathing seemed to ratchet up a few decibel levels. She was feeling strangely free since getting up from this most recent fall. She’d gotten back on, been thrown, but she’d gotten back up. She was okay. Not in a hospital, not in a wheelchair, and not paralyzed. The fears that had chained and held her—shackled her to the ground, literally—for the past five years fell away.

  Van made a grunting sound under his breath, and she forced herself not to smile. He certainly knew she could handle pain. Just like he knew how much she not only endured but also enjoyed everything he dished out.

  “Call me if you need anything,” Jesse said as he left. He held the door open, clearly expecting Van to follow.

  Stella cursed in her mind. Van should go. It would look strange if he didn’t. And even though Jesse had probably already put most of the pieces together, it still wasn’t smart to draw him a clear picture just in case.

  Van moved hesitantly towards the door, undoubtedly realizing the same thing. He had to go.

  Right.

  But each step he took away from her brought her pain closer to the surface, intensifying the pulsating ache inside. She wanted him to hold her—or at least to hold the ice pack on her tailbone.

  “Stay. Please.”

  Van’s shoulders tensed and he looked at Jesse.

  Jesse sighed. “I’m assuming you mean him.”

  “He’s not a dog, Jesse. Speak to him directly.” She remembered Van revealing that he’d been treated like an unwanted pet as a child before he’d screwed her into oblivion.

  “I’d tell you both to be careful, but I’m pretty sure neither of you would listen.” With a shake of his head, Jesse left them alone.

  “I’m not fucking you, cowgirl. Even if you beg. You just took a serious spill that, frankly, scared the fuck right out of me.”

  Stella laughed and then winced as her tailbone pinched at the reminder. “You can go then. What good are you?”

  He made a playfully wounded face as he settled onto the couch beside her, taking over ice pack duty.

  “You might be surprised. I can be gentle when I need to be.”

  She knew this already. It was one of the many reasons she was falling in love with him. She dozed off against Van’s warm body as he held ice-cold relief against her.

  Stella woke to her cell phone ringing loudly beside her. The sun was coming up, judging from the way light slanted across her through the blinds.

  She grimaced at the name on her screen when she lifted the phone. Her entire body felt like it had been used as a piñata. But she’d ridden. Van and Shadowdancer both. So the pain was worth it.

  “Good morning, Mama,” she said into the phone after she’d accepted the call. Her eyes landed on a piece of paper with black scrawl on it.

  Trying to sleep on your couch nearly killed me. I limped out of here. Good work, cowgirl.

  The hazy memory of him kissing her goodbye in the middle of the night, his voice husky and soft in her ear telling her he had to go, came back to her.

  She smiled as her mother launched into a flurry of words Stella was too sleepy to comprehend.

  “Wait. Slow down please. I just woke up.”

  “I said,” her mother began in a tone that sounded a great deal like a manufactured brand of calm, “that I got a call last night from a Jesse Ramirez. He said you were riding again but had taken a fall and he wanted me to talk you into seeing your family doctor.”

  Normally she would’ve considered planting a stiletto into Jesse’s balls for contacting her mother. But her newfound desire to experience life, to grab it and shake it, bend it and make it do her bidding, changed that.

  “I think that’s a great idea. I’ll make an appointment with Dr. Lesley and come home this weekend. How’s that sound?”

  Candace Chandler stammered. Clearly she’d been prepared to argue against Stella’s normal impenetrable defense of excuses. “Oh. Well. That’s… Well, that sounds fine, Stella Jo. I’ll, I mean, we’ll be so glad to finally see you.”

  Her mother had been right the first time. She might be glad. But she’d be the only one. After they hung up, she dug through her memory.

  Her dad had never once been happy to see her. Not a single time, no matter what accomplishment they’d been celebrating or event they’d been attending in her honor.

  He wishes I didn’t exist.

  The thought—no, the fact—slammed into her with a force that made her want to cry. It was irrefutably true.

  Van had given her courage. Shadowdancer had unlocked her strength.

  She was going to take her newfound traits home and demand some answers. And unlike last time, she wasn’t leaving without them.

  He’d gone to the barn only to find a bunch of horses and no Stella. Jesse Ramirez was walking towards a red GMC truck. Van called out to get his attention.

  “Hey, man. You seen Stella?”

  The director’s son turned and faced him, a barrage of emotions warring plainly on his face. “She went home. To see her family and a doctor, I think.”

  Do not act like a raging fucking lunatic.

  “Ah. Okay.” He knew he shouldn’t push any further. Knew, but couldn’t stop himself. “Well, um, any word? I mean, is she okay?”

  The younger man’s forehead creased as he removed his hat and scrubbed a hand over his head. “Haven’t heard.”

  “Any idea when she’ll be back?”

  Jesse sighed and folded his arms over his chest. Van suspected it looked like Stella would soon be needing a restraining order.

  “Look, I’m sure you’re a good enough guy. Everybody has problems, issues they need help getting a handle on, and I get that. So please don’t take offense to what I’m about say.”

  Van raised his eyebrows. Whatever the man had to say had to be prefaced with a disclaimer, so he figured it would probably induce his knee-jerk punch-a-fucker-in-the-face reflex. He believed he’d grown up a bit since his last brawl, or maybe he’d just learned a little about what was worth fighting for and what wasn’t. He remaine
d out of reaching distance just to be on the safe side.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Van had a strict policy about not making promises he couldn’t keep.

  Jesse bravely stepped closer, squared his shoulders, and looked Van directly in the eye. The man was braced for whatever came. Van respected that he felt whatever he was about to say was worth an ass-kicking should that be the direction this conversation took.

  “Stella isn’t like other women, like the ones you probably have to deal with on a regular basis. She isn’t just taking what she can get so she can go brag to her friends that she hooked up with you. And she doesn’t strike me as the type that’s into casual sex.”

  Van’s nerves pinched at hearing another man say Stella’s name and sex together, but nothing Jesse Ramirez had said so far was untrue. So he just nodded.

  “I’m aware of this.”

  “Are you?” Dark brows dipped. “In that case, I have to ask. Where do you see this going? I mean, you just going to check out and move on when you’re done here? Because you may not know it, but she’s risking a hell of a lot being with you. My dad likes her. He respects her. But there’s already talk of…rumors, I guess you could say, about the two of you. He asked me to keep an eye out.”

  Van struggled to swallow. He had no clue where this was going, no idea how things were going to work with Stella once he was out of rehab. And he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t get her fired. She loved it here. He could still hear her begging, pleading for him to back off.

  “This job is important to me. I’m happy here. I feel at home. Wanted. Needed. I never felt that way before. Not in my own home and not with college roommates. I belong here. I want to be here.”

  He wanted to hit something. He’d pushed until he’d gotten his way. And now his beautiful cowgirl was the topic of rumors. Rumors that would hurt her in so many ways—taint and tarnish her like he’d known he would.

  “So is this a warning?”

  Disappointment laced the breath Jesse let out. “It’s whatever you think it is. It’s honesty. If you were in love with her, it’d be different. I’m sure my dad would give you two his blessing and you could transfer to a different facility.”

  “What makes you think I’m not in love with her?” Was he? He wasn’t entirely sure. He was sure, however, that he wanted to be discussing this with her and not this guy.

  “Missing riding crops, fucking her in secret, and your fiancée showing up repeatedly. People talk, Mr. Ransom. And this facility is a breeding ground for rumors and gossip. It’s one of the reasons I keep to myself and spend my time at the barn with the animals. They keep their mouths shut.”

  “Lucky for me,” Van mumbled under his breath. He’d done some pretty unspeakable things with Stella in the presence of the horses.

  “Look, I’m well aware that it’s none of my business. But she’s good for this place and I think it’s good for her. So I’d hate to see her jeopardize that over a fling with someone who’s just using her for a distraction from what he came here for.”

  Van took two instinctual steps toward him.

  Jesse’s hands came up in defense. “Not saying that’s what you’re doing. Let me be perfectly clear, I have no clue what you’re actually doing with her. I was just saying I’d hate to see her get hurt.”

  “I don’t want that—to hurt her. To get her in trouble.”

  Her. He just wanted her.

  Not that he planned to tell this random dude that.

  “Then you might want to ease up a little.” Jesse shrugged as if it were of no consequence to him. “Back it down on the watching her like a predator stalking prey at least. Because if I really was ‘keeping an eye out’ like my father asked me to, you would’ve just shown me plenty to get her fired.”

  With that, the man got in his truck and left. Van watched his taillights disappear from view and placed his hands on his head.

  Jesse Ramirez hadn’t told him anything. It was everything he already knew. She could do better, he was bad for her, and both of them would be decimated when this ended. She’d likely be jobless.

  But hearing it from someone else, knowing people were talking about them— about her, really—in anything less than a positive light, gutted him.

  He hoped that knowledge would be enough to keep him away from her, so he wouldn’t ruin her any further, whenever she returned.

  Pulling up in her parents’ driveway felt surreal. She’d never been homesick. Not really. There wasn’t much to miss. The heavy weight of failure and disappointment thickened the air.

  Her tires kicked up dust in the driveway around her as she approached the sprawling ranch. Glancing over at the house, she parked her white SUV and got out.

  Deep breaths, Stella Jo. You can do this.

  Her internal self-assurance became a mantra as she made her way to the front door.

  Her mother flung it open before she’d even had time to knock.

  “Well it’s about time, Estella Josephine. You made it. I was beginning to wonder if you’d even remember the way,” her mother greeted her at the door with a tight smile. “Dr. Lesley is going to come by for dinner and take a look at your back.”

  “Hi, Mama,” she said as she stepped inside. “Of course I do. No one forgets how to get home.” Not that she’d ever felt like this place was her home. The house was slightly warmer than she remembered. New floral curtains, different from the ones they’d had when she was a kid, draped the windows, framing the sunlight that entered.

  She opened her mouth to compliment the new décor, but her mother rushed on.

  “Your daddy had to help out with a cattle run. But he’ll be home for supper. Come on in and put your stuff in your old room. We’ll chat and catch up. I can’t wait to hear more about this young man that called me. And you’re riding again. I was so happy to hear that.”

  Stella sighed, already feeling her energy being usurped by her mother’s demands. She was pretty certain her father’s excuse for being gone was just that—an excuse.

  “The young man who called you is very likely gay. And I just rode around a pasture a few times. Not much to tell.”

  Her words didn’t deflate her mother at all. She ushered Stella to the back of the house. “Get cleaned up. Shower and do something a little more impressive with your hair and put your face on please. Dr. Lesley will be here soon.”

  Dress up pretty, Stella Jo. Smile pretty.

  The memories of pageants past twisted her gut. “Yes, ma’am.”

  After dumping her stuff on her old bed, Stella Jo tried to ignore all the creepy doll eyes as she undressed. Her mother’s collection had apparently been stored in her empty bedroom.

  The scalding shower slaked off a little of her courage, and she stared at her image in the mirror as she put on the dress her mother had laid out.

  You’re doing it again.

  Dropping the mascara from her hand, she gaped at her reflection. At the fading reminders of just how deeply Van had impacted her. The thought of her mother’s face at hearing that a man had actually fucked sense into her made her giggle.

  She tried to imagine what Van would say about her letting her parents treat her this way. Her mom trying to pretty her up and her dad not bothering to show up. He’d probably tell them both they could go straight to hell. His girl was perfect any way she came in his opinion. The craziest part was that he truly seemed to believe that.

  She’d left Dallas to come home without saying goodbye, hoping to be back before he noticed she was gone. Her intention was to avoid discussing this with him, but after everything he’d shared with her, she knew he deserved more than she’d given.

  “Hell with this,” she muttered to herself, leaving her hair wet and pulling on jeans and a plain old white T-shirt. She wasn’t anyone’s doll and she certainly wasn’t dressing up for dinner with these people who didn’t know her and didn’t care to.

  More importantly, she just wanted to get this over with and get back to her life in Dallas. To V
an, if she were being honest. Because she didn’t care anymore if she lost her job. She knew where her real life was now. It had begun the moment he bumped into her. It was with him.

  Her mother was practically convulsing at the dinner table. Stella couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Dr. Lesley, in addition to checking Stella’s back, if you could recommend a good psychiatrist, that would be appreciated. She’s obviously lost her mind.”

  Stella grinned as she cut into her steak. “Yes, Dr. Lesley. Clearly, because I didn’t want to wear a ball gown and forty pounds of makeup to dinner, I’m a nutjob.” She speared a piece of meat with her fork and pointed it at her mother. “Now there’s the picture of mental health right there. Grown woman, collects dolls, treats her grown-ass daughter like one.”

  “That’s enough,” her father said from the head of the table.

  She flinched. Two words. In her whole life, the man had never spoken—not directly to her, anyway. And when he finally had, those were the two words he’d chosen?

  “He speaks,” she said, ignoring poor Dr. Lesley’s slumping shoulders as he tried to disappear between them. “All these years, Daddy, and that’s all you got? ‘That’s enough’? Because honestly, what the fuck?”

  Her mother’s voice pierced the air before he could answer. “Estella Josephine Chandler, you will mind your mouth if you ever want to be welcome in this house again.”

  Stella practically exploded out of her seat. “Welcome? Welcome in this house, Mother? When in God’s name have I ever been welcome in this house?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her mother glanced down and straightened the cloth napkin in her lap. “Sit down and finish your dinner.”

  “No. I’m done. I’m way past done.” She shook her head and glared at both of them. “My whole life I’ve tried so hard—so damn hard to be good enough. To be perfect.” Her voice cracked, weakened by the threat of tears, but she continued. “I don’t know why you hate me so much, Daddy. I really don’t. And I’m finally learning to accept the fact that I never will.”