“Want some food for the road?” Mom asked.
I jumped up. “I’ll get it.”
“You don’t have to—”
I cut Wyatt off and pulled out plastic containers. “It’s no bother.”
“Okay. That’d be…nice,” Wyatt said.
“Where are you headed?” Dad asked.
“El Paso. There’s a team roping qualifier.”
No steer wrestling?
“No steer wrestling?” my mother echoed my question.
“No, ma’am.” He smiled.
I felt an extra bounce in my step. No tackling two-thousand-pound animals with pointy horns.
“A group of us are riding up, ropers and barrel racers mostly.”
Barrel racing? Girls? I slapped the potatoes into the container. He was riding with girls. And parents? Hopefully. I knew Hank had just graduated but that didn’t make him an adult.
“You be careful,” my mother said, standing and opening the refrigerator.
Why did I care if he was going with girls? He wasn’t my boyfriend. He could go hook up with anyone he wanted to. Like I could go float down the river with Levi if I wanted to. I didn’t. But I could.
“Allie, did you make cobbler too?”
I popped the lid on the container a little harder than necessary. “Yep.”
“Do we get some?” Dax asked.
“Sure.” I put the plastic containers in a bag. “Help yourself.” I turned, offering the bag to Wyatt without looking at him. Then I began washing dishes. Anything to distract myself from—
“Allie?” Wyatt cleared his throat. I looked at him. So did everyone in the kitchen. “Thanks for dinner.”
His brown eyes were so intense, so gorgeous, so hopeful… I nodded.
“Thanks for feeding us,” Wyatt said to my mother, holding up the bag. “And thank you for giving me a few days off. I’ll make it up when—”
“Wyatt,” Dad stopped him, “go have some fun.”
I frowned at him. Really, Dad? Wait. He should have fun…
Wyatt saw the look on my face and turned, walking from the kitchen. “Bye.” He looked back, a small smile on his face. I tried not to smile back. Tried—and failed.
His answering smile was huge.
I turned back to the dishes, scrubbing with a vengeance.
***
Twenty-four hours later I was standing in my room, surrounded by sheets of newspapers and rolls of tape.
With a hug from my mom and a look from my dad, the parents were off. Dax disappeared within an hour, yelling “Text me if you need me” over his shoulder. I’d been given my phone for the weekend, but now that I had it I couldn’t think of a single person to call. I had twenty-eight messages from people back home, people I missed…but I didn’t want to talk to any of them.
Three hours later, my room was a very pretty pale lavender. It was soothing. My ex-counselor would approve.
I went for a run, dodging two scorpions and one snake. Wyatt had said the lack of rain would make everything come out, looking for water. Needless to say, I cut my run short after the snake sighting. It wasn’t even close, but it still freaked me out. And coming home to an empty house didn’t help.
I spent another six hours painting the trim in my bedroom a bright white. At some point Dax stumbled in and went to bed. It was four in the morning when I finished. I took a shower and went to sleep on the couch downstairs since my room smelled like paint fumes.
I spent the next day sorting boxes. I had way too much stuff. I didn’t need half of it. When the back of Mom’s car was full, I headed into town to the local charity donation center. Once that was done, I stopped in at the clinic.
Mom texted to tell me they’d be back late tomorrow. I told her to have fun. I hoped they were having fun. I kind of liked the fact that they acted like they were married to each other now—like they more than tolerated each other.
I spent an hour chatting with the very cool weekend vet tech. I knew she had things under control but I was lonely. I ended up spending a few hours entering data, helped clean out a few cages, and bottle-fed an adorable litter of orphaned puppies.
It was getting late when I drove back to the house. Dax’s truck was gone. The house was dark. And the clouds were flashing. Thunder rolled in the distance.
I took a few slow deep breaths. “I can do this.” I ran from the car to the house, even though there was no sign of rain or lightning.
I turned on the TV, finding the news. “We’re in for a long night of pretty powerful storms. If you don’t have to go out, don’t. We have a high risk of hail, so find covered parking. Get your flashlights and your candles ready.”
I glanced out at Mom’s car, then the old barn. No cover there. The sky rumbled. “Screw you,” I shouted back. The thunder was louder now.
Just thunder. I spent a few hours flipping channels, tried to read a book…but the whole distracting myself thing wasn’t working out too well. Anger took over. I don’t know why I was angry. I just was. I threw the front door open and walked onto the porch.
“I’m not afraid!” I said it out loud. The thunder argued, rumbling loudly overhead. Followed by a lightning strike that cut across the sky. “Okay, I might be a little afraid,” I said, sitting on the porch swing.
The rain poured in sheets, fast and thick. I sat on my hands, trying to get a grip on my terror. I couldn’t let every storm send me over the edge.
Headlights came bouncing down the drive. Dax. No…Wyatt. He parked, then ran through the rain, up the steps onto the porch. I was frozen.
He shook his head, wiping the rain from his face, before he saw me. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
“So…”
I looked at him.
“Sitting in the dark’s cool,” he said, sitting beside me on the swing.
I laughed, a tight, strange sound. Thunder shook the house and I squealed, pressing my lips together.
“Let it out,” Wyatt said. “It’s all good. Not like I haven’t heard you scream before.”
I looked at him, really looked at him. He had dark smudges under his eyes and needed a shave. “Good trip?” I asked. He shrugged. “Just get back?” He nodded. “You should get some sleep.”
“Wanted to make sure you were okay.” His voice was gravelly. “Parents still gone?”
“Yeah. You drove here from El Paso?”
“Ended up taking two cars—girls had too much stuff. So, yeah, I drove. Straight through.”
“And came here?”
He nodded.
I blew out a deep breath and stood up, looking down at him. He looked up at me, waiting. “I don’t want to fall for you,” I murmured.
“I know,” he said.
I held my hand out to him. He looked at my hand, took it, and pushed himself to his feet. I pulled him inside after me, tossing pillows aside on the couch and pushing him down on it.
I let go of his hand and pulled the foot stool around. I tugged off his boots, tossing them over my shoulder, and propped his feet up. He smiled at me. “Thank you.”
“Grandma said there was nothing Grandpa liked more than taking off his boots at the end of the day. She said it was the same way a woman—” I stopped.
“What?”
I shook my head.
He laughed. “Go on.”
“The same way a woman felt about taking off her bra at the end of the day.”
He kept laughing. “I can just hear her saying that, too.”
I sat beside him. “You knew her?”
He nodded. “Everyone in Black Falls knew Maureen Cooper, Allie. She talked about you and Dax a lot.”
I sighed. “I wish we’d made time to see her more often. I know we were busy, that there didn’t seem to be time, but we should have made time, you know?”
“Yeah.”
The house shook again, a crack of lightning ending all electricity. “That’s your cue.” I said.
I heard him yawn. “My cue?”
> “Go to sleep,” I murmured.
I felt his hand and took it, letting him pull me against him on the couch. I didn’t resist. If anything I burrowed in a little…getting way too comfortable.
“You’re okay?” he asked, yawning.
“I’m okay,” I assured him, putting my hand over his heart. I’m great—now.
I knew Lindie was laughing right now.
And I was in serious trouble.
9 CHAPTER NINE
“Hungry?” Wyatt’s voice was soft against my forehead.
“No.” I sighed. “Sleeping here.” I thought he kissed me, on the tip of my nose. “Am I dreaming?” I asked.
I heard him laugh. “Nope.”
I opened my eyes. I was still on the sofa, under the blanket we’d shared. It was dark and raining, but the lights were back on. “What time is it?”
“About two in the morning,” he said.
“Do you need to let your dad know you’re here?”
His face tightened for a split second. “He’s working right now.”
“Oh.” I pushed off the couch. “He works nights?”
“No.” He shook his head. “He’s on the road, trucking. He’s home maybe once a month.”
I froze just inside the kitchen. Wyatt was alone? His dad left him? I didn’t know what the deal was with his mom, but she wasn’t around, I knew that much.
“So no fried eggs?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Thanks, though.” I looked out the window over the kitchen sink. The rain continued to pour, but the thunder and lightning had all but disappeared. “How did it go?” I asked him. “In El Paso?”
He shrugged. “Girls did well. Hank and I are on the fence.”
“Meaning…?”
“We need to decide if we want to spend the money on entry fees or forget about Regionals.”
I sat at the table. “What about the scholarships you were talking about?” I asked. “Any school in particular?”
“Texas A&M.” He grinned. “No surprise there, right? They have a rodeo team, a real good one.”
It made sense. He was a cowboy. He wanted to be a vet. Their vet school was the best in the state. Mom had graduated from there, met Dad there…
“It’s a great school.” I’d applied—because Mom and Dad made me—and because they had exactly the program I wanted. If Dad hadn’t wanted me to go there, A&M would have beaten SMU for my top choice.
He brought his plate to the table and sat.
I jumped up and got out a glass. “Milk? Juice?”
“Dr. Pepper?” he asked.
I pulled out a can, filled a glass with ice, and set both on the table in front of him.
“Need to keep my options open,” he said, taking a long drink.
“Options meaning scholarships or military?” He nodded. “I’d think rodeo’s the safer route.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “Maybe. But it’s tough on the body. And expensive.”
“I guess…” I shrugged. Fine. I’d tried. If he wanted to keep risking his neck, that was his choice.
He finished eating and sat back in the chair, watching me—curious. His gaze never wavered from mine. His eyes were so dark. Intense. Staring. Searching.
I felt my cheeks warm. “Dax come home?” My voice was husky.
Wyatt’s gaze drifted to my mouth. “Don’t know.”
I swallowed. Why wasn’t I getting creeped out that he was looking at me like…that? Oh, right, because he wasn’t a perv just trying to get into my pants. No, not Wyatt. He knew it was storming and I’d freak out, so he came straight here from driving all night to make sure I was okay. So he could sit here and stare at me until I was one throbbing tingling…
I took a deep breath. It didn’t really help. My chest felt heavy. My throat was tight. I knew I was breathing a little faster than I should be, but I couldn’t help it.
The muscle in his jaw clenched. His gaze wandered to my neck. He closed his eyes.
“I’ll go check.” I stood. “You…staying?” I asked, almost choking on the word.
He opened his eyes, a slight smile on his face. “Probably shouldn’t.”
God, he’s such a nice guy. “You sure? It’s…raining…and late.” And you’d be going home to an empty house, too. “Just wait a minute.”
I ran up the stairs and to Dax’s room. Empty. I wasn’t going to freak out or overreact. He was fine. I pulled out my phone, texting as I went back downstairs. Where the hell are you?
No response.
Still not freaking. I texted again: Dax!?!
“He’s not here. And he’s not answering my texts,” I said to Wyatt as soon as I came back into the kitchen. I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest.
Wyatt pulled out his phone.
“You have a phone?” I asked.
“Never use it,” he explained. “Emergencies only.”
I nodded, taking his empty plate and rinsing it out in the sink.
“He’s at Molly’s place. Her parents made him stay over. Their drive washes out whenever it flash floods like this.”
“He texted all that?” I asked. Dax was the world’s slowest texter—he normally resorted to one-letter responses or bizarro shorthand.
“No, Molly did.”
“Oh… It’s nice how everyone looks out for everyone else,” I said.
“I guess.”
“She knows you’re here…now?”
He nodded. “She doesn’t gossip, if you’re worried.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t worried, not really. Not about Molly or Dax or anyone learning that Wyatt was here. I was worried that I was alone, with no fear of interruption or conscience, with a guy I was seriously interested in. A guy that made me understand why girls got so weird when they liked a boy.
So, fine, okay, I like him… Shit.
I loaded the plate into the dishwasher and turned. Wyatt was sitting there, eyes closed, jaw locked, hands clenching his empty glass. If he hadn’t been so tense, I’d have thought he was asleep.
“Wyatt?”
“I don’t feel right leaving you here alone.” His voice had an edge to it.
I paused, trying to think of the right words. “I’m not your problem.”
He smiled, his brows going up. “You’re nobody’s problem.”
“My parents would argue with that, but that’s not what I meant and you know—”
He stood up suddenly. “You’re not my problem.” He crossed to me. “But…Allie, I want you to be.”
I really like the sound of that. Which hurt. I’m the last thing you need.
As hard as it was to breathe, I managed to argue. “No, you really don’t.” I sidestepped him, needing distance to keep fighting. “I’m one of those damaged goods on the quick-sale table at the grocery store. Pretty packaging makes you curious, interested, but then you get it home and open it up and realize you wasted your time and money on trash.” I walked out of the kitchen as I spoke. More distance.
His hand caught my arm. “Jesus, Allie, that’s harsh.”
I very carefully pulled my arm out of his hold. “Sometimes the truth is. My best friend taught me that.”
He stood there. “Lindie?”
I glanced at him. “Dax talks a lot.”
“I asked him.”
I let myself look at him then. “You could have asked me.”
“You’d have told me?”
I shrugged. “What did Dax tell you?”
“You were in a car crash. Lindie and another boy were killed. You survived.”
“That’s it?” I asked. “When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound like such a big deal.”
“But it was,” he said.
I fixed the couch, putting things back together to give myself something to do.
“You think it was your fault?” he asked.
All the air went out of my lungs, so I sat, hard, on the edge of the couch. He sat beside me, his gaze unrelenting. “I know it was my fault.”
&nb
sp; He shook his head. His brows creased and he started to say something so I cut him off.
“It’s easier this way.” I shrugged, my throat constricting. “I can’t lose anyone else, Wyatt. I can’t do it.”
His hand cupped my cheek. “Oh, Allie—” His voice broke. “Losing people…sucks.” His voice was hard and fierce, his forehead resting against mine. “But not having anyone to lose—being alone—is worse.”
There was pain in his voice. Anguish, real and raw. He was alone. All alone. His dad was gone. His mother was God only knew where. And, somehow, the first thing he thought of when the storm started was me—being here for me.
My heart twisted. He was offering me everything I wanted but didn’t deserve.
His other hand came up, cradling my face, tilting my face to his. His breath was warm on my cheek, my lips.
“Wyatt… I can’t, Wyatt.” I felt the tears welling up in my eyes and yanked out of his hold. I stood up, gasping for air, trying to break the connection that we had. “I’m going to bed. You can stay. Or you can go home. I’m f-fine. I am.”
I ran up the stairs to my room, and didn’t look back.
***
He was sound asleep on the couch when I snuck from the house for my morning run. It was wet and the ground was slick, but I wasn’t going to let it stop me. I needed to run.
I went down twice in the clay-like mud sucking at my running shoes, but got back up and kept going. The last time I fell, I hit hard, landing on a bed of rocks. A few rocks shifted, rolling under my chin.
The white-hot needle of pain was instantaneous, catching me by surprise. My neck was on fire. Then my cheek. I reached up, pressing my hand over my neck, then my cheek. A scorpion fell onto my hand, stinging my hand and wrist before I managed to fling it to the ground.
I stood up quickly. “Shit!” I slipped but kept going, too terrified I’d find that nasty little rat-bastard again. And, seriously, I was starting to hurt.
By the time I got back to the house I wasn’t feeling very well. The stings were throbbing. My head felt like it was being squeezed. I sat on the front porch steps, gasping for air. I tugged off my shoes and shirt, hoping air would make me feel cooler or at least less constricted. Didn’t work. My tongue was feeling thick.
“Shit.” I stood, leaning against the porch railing to get my bearings. The door seemed very far away… I started walking, getting heavier and hotter and more breathless with each step.
Cowboys & Kisses Page 11
