His Cowboy Heart

by Jennifer Ryan

  Jamie absently picked up the drink and downed it, hissing out a breath as the whiskey burned down her throat.

  He understood her need to drown out the memories and the guilt.

  She rolled her head on the back of the chair and stared at him. “What happened after all the shooting stopped?”

  He hated reliving that time as much as her. “I got to the radio in one of the vehicles, called in our location and ordered a medivac for you. I put pressure on your wounds and prayed they’d get there in time.”

  “I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for you to be the only one left standing.” The haunted look in her eyes told him she got it.

  The memories tightened his chest, flooded his mind with dark, grisly images, and filled his heart with regret that she’d been hurt. He wished he could take that back.

  Hoping he didn’t trigger any more memories, he said, “Mostly standing. I took a few hits to my vest and a bad knock to the head.” Tobin traced his finger over the side of his head where he’d been bashed with a gun butt and temporarily knocked out.

  “That damn black spot haunts me. What you said about how I froze . . . it kills me.” She scrunched her face into a frown, drawing the furrow between her eyebrows out.

  “If I can look at it, see how it happened, maybe one day I’ll forgive myself.” Her eyes drooped, then squinted. “You got me to safety behind one of the trucks. Bullets pinged off the metal. Pedro got shot. The blood poured out of him.”

  Tobin slammed his palm on the table to rattle her out of those dark thoughts before she got swept away under a tidal wave of nightmares. Jamie jumped, her eyes wide with fear.

  “Shit happens, Jamie. You did the best you could. Leave it alone,” he ordered. More softly he added, “I don’t want to go back there anymore.” He scrubbed his hands over his eyes to erase the images flashing in his mind. “I don’t want to see you bloody, burned, death trying to steal you away from me. No more,” he pleaded.

  She laid her hand softly on his arm and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Tobin. I’ll stop.”

  He hoped so.

  “Tell the commander you don’t remember what happened, get them to believe you have nothing more to add to your statement, and move on with your life. Promise me you’ll let it go.”

  She nodded her agreement.

  He poured her another shot and held his aloft, hoping she fell back on old times and forgot to be smart and just got shitfaced to get through the night. He nudged her. “Let’s hope we always get what we want and never what we deserve.”

  They clinked glasses and downed the shots. Feeling the effects more keenly than her thanks to the many beers he’d consumed during dinner and their trip down memory lane, he stood and held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll put you to bed.”

  She put her hand in his. Warm. Soft. He wanted to touch all of her, but held back the urge, not wanting to push for too much. He helped her stand.

  She swayed on her feet, drunk and nearly ready to pass out. “I hate sleep.”

  “Me too, but you need to sleep it off, Keller.” He held her to his side and guided her down the hall, Zoey yapping at his heels. He nudged the mutt out of his way so he and Keller didn’t tumble to the floor. The room spun, but he kept his feet under him, barely.

  He was drunker than he’d thought.

  Jamie face-planted on the bed, her legs dangling off the end. Zoey jumped and attacked her shoes. “She needs to go out.” The mumbled words barely reached him.

  “On it.” He picked up the pup, carried her down the hall to the front door with the patch over the bullet hole. A shiver danced up his spine, thinking he’d escaped another attempt on his life after his bulletproof vest saved him the last time. He dumped the dog on the porch, closing the door as she dashed off to the grass to do her business.

  He walked back into her room, ready to crawl into bed and sleep off his latest night of drinking. But first he needed to ensure his future with Jamie. Ford had to go. He’d only hurt her anyway. Tobin was doing her a favor. She’d see that in the end.

  He stripped Jamie’s clothes down to her tank and panties and hauled her up to the top of the bed, gently laying her head on the pillow. He stood over her and touched the scar on her chest, then the one on her thigh.

  “You’ve been through so much. I hate to put you through more, but it has to be this way.” He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. She’d never let him do such a thing when she was awake and sober. He took advantage now, lingering over her soft lips, closing his eyes, fantasizing about all they could share if only she’d turn to him the way she’d turned to that damn cowboy.

  Undressed, his cock hard and aching for her, but not a big enough asshole to cross the line and tired to the bone, he slipped into bed beside her. His weight sank into the mattress, drawing Jamie toward him.

  She jolted from the sudden movement. “What are you doing?” she mumbled, her eyes squinted and barely open as she tried to bring him into focus in the dark room.

  “I hate sleeping alone.”

  “Me too,” she sighed. “Nightmares.”

  “I have them, too. We’ll be here for each other and keep the nightmares away.”

  “You need to go,” she mumbled and tried to push him away, but she didn’t budge him one bit before she passed out.

  He didn’t want to go anywhere without her.

  He stared at her in the dark, wishing for things that she’d denied him too long. It wouldn’t be long before he got Ford out of the picture for good and he’d have Jamie all to himself again.

  Chapter 25

  Ford pulled into Jamie’s driveway, his gut tied in knots, his eyes scratchy from lack of sleep. He’d tossed and turned, thinking about Jamie, talking himself out of coming back here in the middle of the night.

  Tobin had fucked everything up by coming here. That asshole had to go. Ford wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of Jamie’s recovery, or his and Jamie’s future together. Not this time.

  He hoped she’d gotten the answers she needed last night and they unburdened her heart. She deserved that. She needed it.

  If Tobin gave her that, he’d happily send the man on his way in one piece. If he added to Jamie’s despair, Ford would kill him.

  He slipped out of the truck and walked up to the porch. Zoey jumped up from the mat where she lay curled into a tight ball to keep warm in the early morning fifty-something degree temperature. The poor pup ran to him, yapping with excitement. He took the stairs in one leap and picked her up. She licked his face, happy to be rescued from being locked outside.

  Anger roiled in his gut, but he held it together and rubbed Zoey with his hand to warm her up. He tucked her close against his chest and walked right through the front door. He stopped in the entry, staring at the open bottle of whiskey and glasses on the table amidst the beer bottles and dirty dinner dishes no one had cleaned up. With a disgusted shake of his head, he walked down the hall to Jamie’s room and stopped in his tracks in the open doorway, too shocked to move another step.

  The wave of pain overtook his whole body and pulsed into intense rage then back into the hurt he didn’t want to feel. He truly couldn’t believe his eyes. Jamie, in bed with another man, Tobin. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t want to believe it.

  They’d been building something real. She wouldn’t throw that all away. He had to believe Tobin had manipulated her, this situation, taken advantage of her vulnerability. He barely contained the overwhelming urge to kill the man lying in bed with his girlfriend.

  Jamie fidgeted in the bed, caught in a nightmare. As angry as he was, he still wanted to comfort and free her from her demons. She screamed his name and woke with a start. Breathing hard, she jolted with awareness and turned toward the snoring asshole beside her. Face-to-face with Tobin, she gasped, turned away quickly, and spotted Ford staring at her.

  He couldn’t seem to take his gaze away from the horrible scene. “You left Zoey locked outside all night. Now I see why.”
>
  Her surprise at finding Tobin beside her and not him left a glimmer of hope in his heart they’d work this out, that what he thought happened hadn’t really happened, but right now he couldn’t think through the red haze of rage roiling inside of him.

  He needed to get out of here. Now. Before he did something he’d regret, or that landed him in jail for the rest of his life.

  Panic seized Jamie’s heart and squeezed it so tight she couldn’t breathe or feel anything but the agonizing ache. Ford set Zoey on the floor, gave her a look so filled with disappointment and pain she felt the impact like a punch to the heart, turned, and walked away.

  “No. Ford. Wait!”

  She tried to scramble from the bed and go after him, but Tobin had one leg over hers, his knee jammed in her crotch. His hand had slipped up her tank top and rested on her bare stomach, his fingertips brushing the underside of her breast. The second she moved away, he held her still, wrapped his hand around her side, and pulled her closer. She fought to get free, grabbing his hand, pulling it out of her shirt, and tossing it over his back. He never stopped the incessant snoring, or blowing whiskey tinged morning breath on her face. She scrunched her nose and clamped her hand over her mouth to fight off the urge to puke burning up her windpipe.

  Ford’s truck rumbled to life outside. His tires kicked up gravel as he tore out of her driveway. She never even made it out of bed before he was gone.

  “Fuck! No, no, no,” she wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks, blurring her vision. The best thing in her life just walked out the door. This time, he hadn’t sent her away for her own good. She hadn’t left because she needed something different. She’d pushed him away.

  He loved her. He’d shown her in too many ways to count how much he cared and wanted to be a part of her life. He put up with her mood swings, the scary things she did without knowing it, the nightmares that plagued her sleep and made it impossible for him to sleep through the night with her. He’d seen what she needed and given her a job, a purpose that helped her heal and put her with the horses she loved. He’d given her sweet Zoey so she’d never be alone, even when he couldn’t be with her.

  All she wanted to do was hold on to Ford.

  And now she might have lost him forever.

  What had she done?

  What the hell happened last night?

  She scrubbed the heels of her hands over her gritty eyes to her forehead and the pounding headache that would not cease. The emptiness spreading through her chest like a river of doom sucking her under hurt like hell.

  She’d woken up with the wrong man in her bed and the right one walking out the door. That was what needed to be fixed. But first, she needed to fix herself.

  Bleary-eyed and fogged in by the unrelenting hangover, she took stock of her situation, starting with herself. She didn’t remember coming to bed last night. In fact, the last thing she remembered was Tobin pouring her another drink from the bottle of whiskey she hadn’t touched since she shot Ford.

  She sat up and kicked the blankets and Tobin’s leg off her. She wore nothing but her tank top and underwear. Tobin lay beside her in his ridiculous red and green plaid boxers and nothing else. She’d seen him in this state of undress many times out in the field when they had little time and even less privacy to take care of personal matters. Most of the time on a long haul, they changed clothes, brushed their teeth, took a camp bath in the truck. Still, it didn’t explain why he was in her bed.

  Her muddled mind couldn’t make sense of it, which made her even angrier at herself.

  The thought of them actually having sex made her stomach queasy. Not just because it would mean she’d been so far gone last night that she’d go against everything she was, everything she stood for and betray Ford and cheat on him. She couldn’t fathom doing that to him.

  She couldn’t see Tobin taking advantage of her when she was drunk out of her mind and not capable of consenting, let alone participating. Still, creepy crawly tingles rippled over her skin and danced up her spine.

  The last thing she wanted was Tobin in her bed. So how had he gotten there?

  She closed her eyes tight and tried to trudge up even one memory from last night. All the snippets that flashed against her scratchy eyelids showed Ford sitting next to her at dinner, quiet and watchful as always as she and Tobin talked about all the people they’d lost and good times gone by but never forgotten. She’d liked that talk a hell of a lot better than thinking about the consequences of what Tobin told her she did, or rather didn’t do, during the attack.

  Why would he tell her that and make her feel worse? Why say anything about it when she’d forgotten? Why make her believe Ford wouldn’t understand? Why was he really here?

  Why hadn’t she asked herself these things last night before she lost it?

  Why wouldn’t he tell her what really happened?

  That something strange hit her in the pit of her stomach. A nudge in her brain told her that she should know something, but she couldn’t quite catch the fragment in her mind that pushed in before getting swallowed by the darkness once again.

  Maybe she really didn’t want to remember failing her friends. Still, that wasn’t the feeling she got when she started remembering the attack. Deep inside, she felt as if she’d done everything she could to stop it.

  So what was the truth?

  She didn’t know.

  What she knew for sure: Tobin should not be in her room, let alone her bed.

  The ache in her chest grew too much to bear. The thought of losing Ford again tore her heart to shreds and left it bleeding and aching and barely able to beat in her chest. Like a wounded, dying animal, she let the adrenaline sweep her away into anger to fight to live—and get Ford back.

  She hauled back her arm, fisted her hand, and socked Tobin in the shoulder as hard as she could. He grunted, rolled to his back, and stared up at her through bleary eyes. She swung again, this time at his face. He caught her hand in midair and held tight.

  “What the fuck, Keller?”

  “Yes. What the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

  “I’m trying to sleep.” He released her hand and let his arm fall over his eyes. “It’s too damn early to be up. What the fuck time is it anyway?”

  She checked the bedside clock. “It’s just after six.”

  “Fuck, Keller, go back to sleep.”

  She whacked him on the chest. “Answer me. What are you doing in my bed?”

  “I didn’t want to sleep alone. The nightmares get me, especially when I’ve been drinking.” He moved his arm from his eyes and stared up at her. “We drank a lot last night.”

  “That I remember. This,” she spread her hands over the bed they shared, “not so much.”

  “You said you hated sleep because it scared you. I feel the same damn way. There is no peace in sleep. It’s just an easy way for my mind to replay . . . everything.” Tobin reached over and touched his fingertip to the scar on her chest.

  She flinched away. A flash of the dark man standing over her sparked in her mind. She ruthlessly pushed it out again.

  What he said rang true. She remembered bits and pieces of that conversation, feeling like he got it. Ford understood her pain and despair, but Tobin lived it, the same as her.

  “That doesn’t explain why I’m nearly naked in bed with you.”

  “You were so wasted last night, you literally fell face-first into bed. I undressed you to make you more comfortable and tucked you in. That’s all, Keller, so get a grip.”

  Tobin rolled to his side and levered himself up on his elbow. His free hand settled on her thigh. She batted it away.

  He held it up in surrender. “Hey, I’m not the enemy here. I was just trying to be a friend and put you to bed. I didn’t want to sleep alone. Neither did you. We made it through the night without incident. No harm. No foul.”

  “Except Ford walked in on us a few minutes ago.”

  Tobin fell back on the bed. “Sorry.” He didn’t sound upset abou
t it at all. “I don’t know what you see in that guy. Nothing happened. Fuck him if he doesn’t believe you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Tobin scrubbed his hands over his face. “Better he walks out now than in a few months when you’re so tied to him you’ve got nothing else to fall back on. Come back to Georgia with me.”

  She had everything. The happiness she’d found in her life and in her heart again. The love she’d discovered had grown over the years into something so deep it came from her soul and connected her to Ford in a way she couldn’t explain and didn’t want to lose.

  “You’re a real asshole.”

  “We agreed on that a long time ago,” he teased. He rolled toward her, hooked his arm around her waist, and pulled her down and against his chest. He spoke into the back of her neck. “You don’t belong here, Keller. You belong with me and your friends in Georgia. Come back with me. I need you. You need me.”

  I need Ford.

  It took some muscle and a bruising elbow jab to his ribs to extract herself from Tobin’s embrace, but she rolled out of bed and stood before him, staring down at a man she considered more than a friend. He was family. A brother. Always there for her. Sometimes annoying. A pal to mess around with, grab a few drinks, and share some laughs. A guy she shared a lot of memories and experiences with.

  But deep down, he was looking out for him, not her.

  “Your idea about getting me through this is getting me drunk and making me feel guilty about something I don’t even remember. You see me with Ford, the bond we’ve forged these last weeks, the happiness he brings me, and you want to tear us apart because you don’t want to lose our friendship.”

  “Hell no, I don’t. He wants to keep you here, away from the people who care about you.”

  “No. He doesn’t. He wants to give me a safe place to heal so that when I’m ready I can face my past. You included.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You. A text, a call, looking at you reminds me of the last time we were together and my mind takes a dark turn and I do things I shouldn’t.”