Her Favorite Cowboy (The Watson Brothers #4)

by Ann B. Harrison

  The words hit her hard. Emily was right, she couldn’t control what Tyson chose to do with his life. But she could control how she reacted to it. As much as she didn’t want to give up on the idea of them being together, she had to show it didn’t affect her as much as it did. At least to the outside world. At home she could drop the act and bawl her eyes out if the need arose.

  “You’re right. There’s not much I can do so I may as well carry on as I was going to do in the first place.”

  “That’s my girl. And I think a breath of air outside away from the office might be good for you. Get a hot chocolate and go and sit in the park for half an hour. I don’t want to see you back here before one o’clock.”

  “I might do that. I think a walk in the sun might be just what I need.” She gave Emily a wobbly smile and stood up, reached for her handbag and stepped from behind her desk.

  “You go on and enjoy yourself for a bit. Come back to work all refreshed and happy.”

  Refreshed, yes, happy, doubtful but I’ll give it a shot for appearances’ sake. Layla stepped out into the sunshine and looked up and down the street, desperate for a glimpse of his truck.

  Nothing, that didn’t surprise her. He’d probably hightailed it out of town to go and hide at his ranch where he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone.

  Layla headed across the road to the Sage’s Chocolate Shop. She’d been tempted more than once to go inside and take a bag of delicious, gooey chocolates home to devour but so far had been restrained, knowing she would probably pay for it after this little boy was born. But today she really didn’t care. A big mug of hot chocolate and a bag of dark toffees was on her mind.

  The smell enveloped her before she got inside the door. She sucked in a deep breath and smiled.

  “Smells terrific, doesn’t it?”

  Layla looked at the lady behind the counter. A quick glimpse at her name tag revealed Sage, the chocolate shop owner.

  “It smells divine. I can feel the weight going on my hips just by standing here.

  “Come on in. I’m Sage, and if the grapevine has it right, you must be Layla Cox from across the road at the law office.”

  Layla stepped over to the counter and held out her hand. After a brief shake, she pointed to a tray of chocolates. “Yep, that’s me and, as you can probably tell, I’m going to indulge in your delectable treats. I’ve tried and failed to stay away from your shop and now I no longer have the energy to try.”

  Sage laughed, the soft tinkle filling the quiet shop. “I love it when people walk in here for the first time. Now, what can I tempt you with? Feel free to have a taste test of anything you like.”

  “I’d love a hot chocolate to take out if that’s okay. That way if I indulge out in the sunshine, my excuse can be at least I’m getting fresh air.”

  “True and, really, what’s a little chocolate going to do other than make you feel good about yourself?”

  Layla lifted a hand to protectively cup her baby bump. “I guess you heard then?”

  “Yeah, everyone knows everything in this town.” She picked up a pair of tongs and shrugged her shoulders. “I wouldn’t change it for the world but some people hate the way things get around.” She reached in and picked up a chocolate and handed it out to Layla. “This is one of my newest favorites, a rich chocolate fudge, dipped in dark eighty percent cocoa chocolate. Gives you a double whammy and you look like you could deal with it right now.”

  Layla took the offering and bit into it, letting the dark chocolate melt on her tongue. She closed her eyes and waited for the taste of fudge. It hit her slowly, almost seductively. The rich, smooth sugary center with the hint of summer berries filled her mouth.

  She opened her eyes to see Sage watching her. “Oh, my goodness, that was a surprise. It’s perfect.”

  “Phew, thank goodness. It’s a new one and today is the first day I’ve put it out.” She glanced away then back at Layla. “Listen, for what it’s worth and I don’t want you to think I’m butting into your business, Tyson is a great guy. I hope you two can work it out.”

  Footsteps sounded at the door and Sage looked startled. “I don’t want any trouble in here, Jethro. I mean it, I’ll call Rory to drag you out if you start anything.”

  Layla turned around, saw Jethro standing in the doorway.

  “I’m not here to cause any trouble. I was wanting to talk to Ms. Cox.”

  “Make an appointment with Emily, Jethro. That’s how I do business.” She turned back to Sage. “Can I have a half a dozen of those please, Sage and a hot chocolate to take out?”

  “Sure.”

  “Make that two, please, Sage.” He stepped over to stand beside Layla. “I won’t cause any trouble, I promise, but I would like the opportunity to talk to you for ten minutes outside if that’s possible. I’ll even pay for the hot chocolate.”

  “Jethro, it would be best if you made an appointment.”

  “I’m not going to make an appointment and pay you to apologize to you. Don’t seem fair in my book. Just give me ten minutes before you walk back to work, that’s all I’ll need.”

  “I’m not going back to the office, Jethro. I’m going to give myself half an hour of peace and quiet in the park with my drink.”

  “Please, Ms. Cox. Let me walk you there then? I promise not to take up too much of your time.”

  Sage hovered at the counter, having already bagged up the chocolates. “Still want the two hot chocolates, Ms. Cox.”

  “Call me Layla, and yes, please.” She turned to look at Jethro. “Ten minutes and if you even think of causing trouble between me and Mr. Watson, so help me, Jethro, it will be the last time we talk outside of a courtroom.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He hovered by the door, a wary look on his face.

  She waited for Sage to make the takeaway drinks and to amuse herself and stop her mind from wandering, Layla tried to memorize each different chocolate for future reference. She would be kidding herself if she didn’t think she would be back in here now she’d had a taste of Sage’s creations.

  “Here you go.”

  Layla handed over the money and took both drinks. She handed one to Jethro as she passed him. “Follow me, your time starts now.”

  He scurried down the street after her as she turned left and headed to the little church Rory and Gina got married at, rather than the park in the opposite direction. The quiet of the small rose garden where they’d had photos taken seemed the place she’d gravitate to, to try and gather her scattered wits. By the time she slowed her pace, the old wooden park bench with the rambling, pink rose bush was in sight. Her feet sighed with relief as she sank down onto it. Layla took a sip of her drink and then looked at Jethro.

  “Five minutes gone. Better talk fast, Jethro.”

  “I’m sorry, okay.”

  “Is that it?” She stared at him, confused. He could have said this earlier and saved them both the uncomfortable silence getting here.

  “No. No, it’s not. Look, I know you won’t tell me what’s in Grandpa’s will and I respect that.” She raised an eyebrow and he sighed. “I do. I’ve been an ass, I get that. Let him down more times than I can even begin to imagine.” He held the takeaway cup in his hands and looked down at his feet, scuffing the grass with the tip of his cowboy boots.

  “And you’re telling me what I already know, why?”

  “Don’t know who else I could be talking to. He trusts you so I guess I should too.”

  “Is there a point to this conversation, Jethro? ’Cause all I’m hearing is you’ve been an idiot, which we both know, and that’s it. Where do I fit in?”

  He turned his gaze toward her and Layla saw the pain in his pale blue eyes. “I have to try and make it right before he dies but I don’t know how. I figured apologizing to you might be the first step.” He took a sip of the drink and pulled a face before putting it down on the edge of the seat beside her. “You know I didn’t mean to hit you. I was aiming for Tyson. Not my fault the damned fool moved.”<
br />
  “Okay, so you’ve apologized. Is that it?”

  “No. Not it’s not. Not sure if you know the history but Grandpa took us in when our father took off, leaving Mom with the three of us boys. Poor thing didn’t stand a chance with trying to keep us in line. Didn’t know it at the time but she was poorly and never got better. Died not long after we moved here.” He looked at the church. “I remember this place. I can recall her coffin sitting in the front of the pulpit with the good reverend saying nice things about her. Strange because I was more interested in annoying my brothers than anything. Don’t think any of us really understood what was going on.”

  He turned and leaned on the post and rail fence. “Anyway, thing is, none of us have given Grandpa the respect he deserves and for that I’m sorry. I want to make it up to him but I don’t know how. I was kind of hoping you would help me out here, considering you’re probably going to be the executor of the will anyways. That much he told us but nothing else.”

  “Why now, Jethro? Why wait until it’s almost too late?” Layla started to feel for him and his brothers.

  Losing their mother and father so young was bound to have made an impression on the boys and she was sorry it had taken him so long to appreciate the love his grandfather had given them over the years.

  “Because I’m an idiot, I guess. So busy blaming everyone for my troubles, I never stopped and thought I could do something about it, take responsibility for my own actions. I blamed Tyson as you know and look where that got me.”

  “I can understand you holding a grudge, Jethro, but I do think you’ve overdone it.”

  Jethro turned and looked at her, leaned back on the rail. “You and Tyson. Are you… together?”

  Her skin prickled and Layla remembered what Emily had said about Jethro always trying to push in on anything Tyson wanted including woman. “That’s not your concern and I refuse to discuss my life with you.”

  “He’s a good guy, even if I do give him crap. But back to Grandpa. Do you think I have time to make things right with him? He won’t talk to be about his health so I have no idea how long he has or what’s wrong with him.” She noticed a sheen of emotion in his eyes. “I don’t want him to die thinking we don’t care, because we do. We just chose a lousy way of showing it.”

  Layla put down her drink and pushed herself up from the bench. She knew Rupert didn’t have long and Jethro seemed legit enough. Could she tell him what to do without putting client confidentiality at risk?

  “Jethro”—she reached out a hand to touch his arm—“if it was me, I’d do everything I can to sort this out with him now. Don’t leave it any longer. Go home, tell him what you told me and ask for forgiveness before it’s too late. Maybe you and Rupert can work it out. That’s something for the two of you.”

  “Now? He’s really that ill?” The pain in his eyes made her tear up.

  “Just go, Jethro. Please make him happy.”

  He grabbed her into a bear hug and held her tight. Small hiccups and a tremble of his shoulders told her what she already knew, he was full of emotion. Layla was glad for the chance to help him, even if it meant she might have broached privacy rules. This family needed to heal and if she could help, so be it.

  She rested her head against his shoulder as he took comfort. The rumble of an old truck as it slowed down broke the moment and Layla looked over the rose bush to the road.

  *

  Tyson glared out the window at the spectacle Jethro and Layla made. So much for her loving him. He had been right to reject her. It hadn’t taken long for her to seek comfort in the first pair of arms that reached out. He might have known that Jethro would come around sniffing at her door. A leopard didn’t change its spots.

  He floored the gas and took off, headed for the only place he felt comfortable at. The ranch. He’d put up posters in all the shop windows in town he could think of that would advertise for him and stocked up on horse feed before heading home after his chat with Layla. Still conflicted over what he’d said, his mind warred with his heart. The only way to clear his head was a ride up the mountains on his horse.

  Jethro! That slimy, no-good, godforsaken scum bag! And Layla, not fighting him off or anything remotely like it. How was that possible when not that long ago, he punched her out in the street? Women, he’d never understand them. It might have been better if he’d gone ahead with those replies he’d gotten from the ad for a mail-order bride. Shame he’d thrown them in the fire in a fit of anger.

  When he rode back down the mountain later that day, the lights were on in his house. Chance’s truck sat outside the door and he groaned. He didn’t need his big brother butting his nose in any more today than he did yesterday or the day before.

  He took his time unsaddling Rango and settling him down for the night. By the time he got back to the house, all he wanted was to crawl into bed and hide from today’s events. The image of Layla and Jethro still burned the back of his brain.

  “Where the heck have you been?” Chance looked up at him from Tyson’s favorite chair in front of the television.

  Tyson walked in and threw his hat onto the coatrack in the corner of the tiny living room. “Why? What’s it got to do with you?”

  “Well, since you don’t answer your damned phone and those horses need to be ready to go tomorrow instead of the following day, I had no choice but to come and see you. Much as I’d prefer to be at home with my wife, and all.”

  Tyson groaned. He’d forgotten they’d arranged for them to leave this week. “Sorry. Forgot totally. My mind was on other things.”

  Chance stood up. “Here’s the thing, little brother, business is business and it won’t wait while you have woman problems, okay? You make a deal with someone, they expect it to be dealt with and honored. Make sure they’re ready by eleven a.m. tomorrow, because that’s what time the truck is leaving my place.”

  “Sure and I’m sorry.”

  Chance’s face softened. “What’s going on? I thought you guys had it sorted out.”

  Tyson walked over and sat down on the old chair at the small dining table. “I thought so too but after the way she carried on over the whole Fisher rescue, I thought about it some more and we really don’t have enough in common to make it work. It’s only a matter of time before we would break up anyway. I can’t go through that, especially not with a child in the mix. Wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Your call of course, but…

  “And I saw her in Jethro’s arms not an hour after I told her too.”

  “What, are you kidding me?” Chance jammed his hands on his hips and stared at him. “That doesn’t sound like the Layla I know.”

  “Nope, me either but I wonder how much we really know someone. They were in the church yard, hugging like their lives depended on it.” Tyson scraped a fingernail over a scratch in the table. “I should have gone with one of those mail-order brides. No expectations or anything. Pretty sure it would have worked out better, considering.”

  “Why don’t you then? I mean, if you’re sure it won’t work out between you two and you want a wife, it’s not a bad way to go about it.”

  “Threw them in the fire.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Chance, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He walked in and stepped over to kiss her cheek before sitting in the chair in front of her desk.

  “In town to pick up some gear, thought I’d drop in and see how you’re going.” He sat back in the chair with an ease in his surroundings that she envied.

  “As you can see, I’m fine.” She lowered her lashes, lest he see the pain in her eyes.

  “Don’t lie to me, Layla. You know I can see through you.” He shook his head when she gave him a quick glance. “Black marks under your eyes that your makeup doesn’t cover. Looks like you went a round with a bad dream last night too.”

  “Tell me what I want to hear, why don’t you. You seem to have lost your charm.”

  “Tyson burned the replies you got for the mail-order brides
. When I spoke to him last night, he made a comment about wanting to hookup and see how it went.”

  The air sucked out of her lungs and Layla saw stars before her eyes. The sick sensation in her stomach made her ears ring.

  “Shit.” Chance bolted out of his chair and was at her side in a second. “Sorry, I didn’t think it would hit you that hard.” He held her by the shoulders so she didn’t pass out and hit herself on the desk.

  Layla steadied her breathing and brushed his hands away. “I’m okay.” She couldn’t keep the tears from her voice.

  “Bull crap. You’re not.” He sat on her desk, looking down at her. “Tell me the truth, Layla, and don’t try to cover it up. Do you want Tyson?”

  She swallowed, the pain in her chest almost too much to bear. “Yes.”

  “So tell me this then, what was the deal with you and Jethro in the churchyard yesterday?”

  “Why?”

  When he didn’t answer, she sighed and reached past him for a tissue, dabbing at her eyes. “He wanted to talk about Rupert.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Sure, but it stays in this room.” When he nodded his head, she continued. “He apologized for hitting me and told me about how hard he’s been on his grandpa. Asked me what to do to try and fix things before Rupert passes on.”

  “Guess better late than never.”

  “I know he means it, Chance. Poor boy was so upset. I was consoling him when Tyson drove past. If he thinks I’m that flighty, he needs his head examined.”

  “Sounds to me like you both could do with a kick in the pants. Both too damned stubborn to see what’s in front of your face, if you ask me.”

  “I think it’s too late.”

  “Is Tyson dead?”

  “What?”

  Chance poked a finger into her hand. “Are you still breathing?”

  “What’s with the stupid questions?” Layla pushed her chair back and stood up.

  “Think about it. He’s not married, not dead or dying that we know of. Why is it too late?”