A Cowboy Summer (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Salonen, Debra

  Anne smiled, but before she could reply, Joy added, “Didn’t you tell me you had a plan in mind when you married Zoey’s daddy?”

  Her point was obvious. Barry had fit into Anne’s plan until the introduction of a new ingredient. But loving Will and being in love with Will were two different things. One meant a respite from loneliness, the other meant drastic changes for one of them. Anne knew only too well what happened when you tried to force change. She and Will both had lives waiting for them in September. Totally incompatible lives.

  “Joy, this thing between me and Will is supposed to be a harmless, little summer fling. He has his life. I have mine. There is no middle ground.”

  Joy made a clucking sound. “Sure there is, honey. It’s called the Silver Rose. You two belong here. A.J. can’t run this place alone. What you and Will need to do is cut loose the old and focus on the new.”

  The coffee in Anne’s stomach churned. “That’s easier said than done. I’ve signed a contract with my company. I’m inches away from the promotion I’ve been breaking my back to get. I can’t just drop out of the game.”

  “Why not?”

  A tingle pulsed through her. The question sounded familiar. How long had it been zinging about in her head, whispered in silence? Weeks? Months? Since the first time she saw Will Cavanaugh step out of his foolish yellow truck? “Because this is my career. It’s what I do best. The same way Will is a bull rider. He’s going back to that, too, you know,” she added defensively.

  Joy took a deep breath and let it out. She dried her hands and turned to face Anne. “Not according to what I heard.”

  Anne moved closer. “What do you mean?”

  Joy frowned. Her candy-apple cheeks deepened in hue. “This is just hearsay, Anne, so you’d best take it for what it’s worth. My friend’s son-in-law is a stock handler with one of the companies that provides bucking bulls to the PBR. This is a small world. Everybody knows everybody.”

  Anne froze. “So?”

  “People talk. Especially when one of their own gets hurt.”

  Anne nodded to encourage her to keep talking.

  “Remember hearing about Will’s last ride? He landed wrong on his head. He was knocked unconscious and had to be taken off on a stretcher.”

  Anne hadn’t heard that but she didn’t say so to Joy. “He was okay, though. He seems fine now.”

  Joy nodded. “True. But there was talk at the time that he wouldn’t ride again. Some went so far as to say that if Will risked another ride, he might wind up dead or paralyzed.”

  Anne swallowed hard to keep her coffee in her stomach. Hadn’t Linda mentioned a similar rumor? Could it be true? She understood Will’s need to prove himself, but surely he wouldn’t risk his life for his dead father’s approval? But what else could drive him to take such a foolhardy risk? The money? She knew riches held little allure for Will. He owned land he didn’t ranch. His single possession was a truck he didn’t like. Was he in it for the fame? She doubted it. He always reacted modestly when guests asked about his career. The glory? No, Anne couldn’t see it. What she could see was Will in a hospital bed with tubes and machines keeping him alive.

  She set down her cup and dashed for the door. She’d just reached the foyer when she spotted Will on the stairs. A wide smile lit up his face when he saw her. She recognized the look in his eyes. Love. He loved her as she loved him—even if neither of them had been brave enough to say the words aloud.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, walking straight to Anne. His arms rose as if to hug her, but stalled when she put out a hand to stop him. “Anne? Are you okay?”

  A tornado of emotions whirled inside her brain: fear, bafflement, anger, love, defeat, remorse.

  “No,” she said, her voice choking on tears. “No, Will, I’m not okay. I’m furious. With you.”

  His freshly shaved jaw dropped. “Why?”

  “Because I just found out that I love you, you stupid idiot.”

  His initial smile faded when she added, “It happened by accident. I thought I could do the sex thing and be okay with it, but then I woke up and saw you there. Damn it, Will, you snore. A nice, happy snore, like a contented dog. I could get used to that.

  “And when I was in the shower, I toyed with the idea of trying to make this work. But then I found out that you’re insane. I fell in love with a madman. And I hate you.”

  The look on his face went from surprise to joy to confusion. “Crazy how? Because I love you, too?”

  She stabbed her finger on his chest, dead center above his heart. “No. Don’t even say that word unless you can tell me that you’re never going to ride another bull.”

  He stepped back. “What are you talking about?”

  Suddenly, her mind was filled with the image she’d seen on television last night before Will came to her room. A gate opened. A huge, powerful bull leaped into the air, snorting and twisting. The man on his back fell off, but his hand was caught in the rope. His body flapped and slapped like a rag doll until the moment the rope released and he dropped lifelessly to the ground. After a few seconds, the cowboy— Will—had stumbled to his feet. He’d waved to the crowd and picked up his hat, then faltered, his pain obvious. Two men had helped him from the arena. If what Joy said was true, the next time might hold a totally different outcome.

  She drew back, being careful not to touch him. “Were you advised to stop riding because your next fall could be fatal?”

  He looked toward the ceiling and let out a soft groan. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Is it true, Will?”

  He looked her squarely in the eye. “More or less, but…”

  Anne turned away. She couldn’t listen to excuses, to justifications. Barry had given her plenty when he’d explained why it was best for Anne and Zoey that he leave. She paused at the foot of the stairs. “Please tell Joy that Zoey and I are going to spend the day in Reno. We need to shop for school clothes. We might be late.”

  “Anne, wait.” He put his hand on her shoulder. His touch went all the way to her toes. “Let me go with you. We can talk in the car. Before we pick up Zoey.”

  She wanted more than anything to crawl into his arms and forget what she’d heard, what she knew for a fact. Will cared for her, deeply. But he wouldn’t—or maybe he couldn’t—give up bull riding. Even if it killed him.

  “No. She’ll pick up on the tension between us. She’s very sensitive to my moods. It wouldn’t be good for her.”

  “Is it Zoey you’re worried about, or yourself?”

  She lifted her chin. “Both. I’m a mother first. Just like you’re a bull rider first, lover second. Now, if you don’t mind, I need some time.” To think. To plan. To put the most wonderful night of my life behind me.

  TWO HOURS DISAPPEARED beneath the burden of figuring out how to turn on the computer and print receipts for guests who were checking out, and how to settle a squabble between members of the housekeeping staff. Will closed the office door. He would have hung a Do Not Disturb sign on the handle, but he didn’t know where Anne kept them.

  Even though the circumstances were different, Will thought he understood how overwhelmed his grandfather must have felt after Esther died. A.J. didn’t just lose his wife, he lost his partner. Anne had made herself such an integral part of the Silver Rose’s makeup that Will couldn’t picture the place succeeding without her.

  Will sat down heavily in his grandfather’s chair. He rolled his neck to loosen the tension that had been building since Anne left. This wasn’t how he’d pictured the day unfolding. Mildly disappointed that he didn’t get to kiss Anne awake, he guessed that he’d find her in the kitchen, helping Joy. Anne was driven—not just in her city job, but in everything she did. He appreciated that goal-oriented attitude because he shared it.

  That was one of the reasons he was so ticked off. Apparently what was okay for Anne—dreams and ambition—wasn’t acceptable for Will.

  Joy had apologetically explained about the rumor she’
d shared with Anne. Will wasn’t surprised to learn that people had heard of his diagnosis. Will could have denied the allegation, but that would have been a lie. What angered him was the way Anne left without giving him a chance to explain.

  That time in high school when he got too close to her, she’d clammed up and hidden behind her plans for college. Apparently this time, she was going to use his job and her daughter to keep them apart.

  He was tempted to cut his losses and throw in the towel. We had a good time last night, he thought. Hell, the best damn time of his life. But was that enough to make him give up bull riding?

  The question hung in the air as if Esther’s ghost had spoken it aloud. It sounded like an Esther question. Blunt. To the point.

  “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head.

  Yes, you do.

  The phone rang. He snatched up the receiver. “Anne?”

  “No, it’s me. Gramps. You expectin’ her call? Where is she?”

  Will rocked back in the chair and put his feet on the desk. “She took Zoey to town. She has her cell phone, though. I thought she might be checking in.”

  Will was pretty sure his voice hadn’t betrayed his feelings.

  A.J. didn’t say anything for a full minute. Just enough time for Will to start sweating. “Might as well tell me what’s going on, son. I’ll find out soon enough. I’m on my way home.”

  Will sat up sharply. The soles of his boots made a slapping sound when they hit the floor. “You did it? Esther?”

  “Yep,” A.J. answered, his voice somber. “Just after dawn. It was gray and misty. I think she would have liked that better than sunny and bright.”

  Will’s eyes misted, too. “I’m sorry, Gramps. I bet it was tough.”

  A.J. sniffed twice. “Not as bad as I thought it was going to be. She and I had a little talk first. She told me I was an old fool for hanging on to ashes when I should be home with my family.”

  Will rubbed his hand across his eyes. “That sounds like Esther. I was just thinking about her. In fact, I thought I heard her call me a few names.”

  “Oh, Lordy, what did you do now?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Love usually is.”

  “Who said anything about love?” A.J.’s laugh was reminiscent of the old A.J. “Son, I’ve been fortunate enough to have had two wonderful women in my life. I’m not so old and decrepit I can’t remember what it’s all about.”

  “Gramps, Anne and I care about each other. But, face it, we’re from different worlds. And we’re going back to those worlds in a month. How the heck is love supposed to survive that kind of situation?”

  A.J. sighed. “I figured you were going to hit that wall sooner or later.”

  “Perfect image. Kinda how I feel right this minute.”

  “Well, if you’re suffering whiplash, you can be dang sure Annie is in even worse shape. Women feel things harder than men. Of course, they’re stronger, so it all works out, but she’ll be hurting just the same.”

  Will frowned. He’d been so busy stewing in his own juices he hadn’t considered how Anne might be feeling. What if she was too upset to drive? She might accidentally drive too fast, miss a turn, overcorrect, and swerve out of control… “Gramps, I gotta hang up. I want to call Anne’s cell phone and make sure she’s okay.”

  “I understand. But, grandson, you’d better take a minute and think about how you’re going to apologize. Most times, sorry don’t cut soft bananas, as your grandmother used to say.”

  “Gramps, she wants me to quit bull riding.”

  “She ain’t the only one.”

  Will’s mouth dropped open. “You, too? Since when? I thought you were proud of me. You’ve always been supportive.”

  “And I always will be, because this is your choice. But if you’d ever asked for my opinion, I’d have told you what I thought.”

  Will swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m asking now.”

  “A man’s dream and a boy’s dream ain’t the same. When you were fired up to buy that dang yellow truck, I thought you were out of your gourd, but I kept my mouth shut. I figured it showed the world what a success you were. But next time you go car shopping, you’ll pick with your head, not your ego.”

  Will smiled. Gramps had that right.

  “You went into rodeo, Will, partly because it’s what your daddy did, partly because you’re damn good at it. But bull riding is a demanding life and even the best—and I’m including you in that list—know when to get out.”

  “Are you saying I’m too old for this?”

  “Nope. I’m saying it’s time you sold that yellow truck.”

  “And hang up my spurs.”

  A.J. was quiet a moment. “Not necessarily. You can wear those spurs around the Silver Rose. Might impress the guests.”

  “Are you asking me to stay here and work for you?”

  “No. I don’t think that would work. You’re your own man, always have been. What I’m asking is that you move home and take over for me. Permanent.”

  Will leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. He rested his head in his hand. “Where would you—?”

  “We got eight cabins. I think I’d be happy in one of ’em.”

  Relief flooded over him— Gramps was thinking about retiring, not selling out. “You don’t think we’d butt heads if we tried to run this place together?” he asked, wondering why the idea didn’t strike him as ridiculous.

  “You got a hard head. Don’t suppose running the Silver Rose will be any more dangerous than doing a Humpty-Dumpty off a bull.”

  Will smiled. “Good point.” He’d enjoyed his summer, but was he ready to give up life on the circuit? His friends? His career? Although he had to admit fewer and fewer of his contemporaries were still riding professionally.

  His income was another issue. The lure of million-dollar “shoot-outs” and bonuses from corporate sponsors wasn’t something to shake a stick at, but Will hadn’t added much to the bank lately. And if he got hurt again, his savings might go for long-term treatment.

  But what about your dream? a stubborn voice asked. At the edge of his consciousness, Will heard an answer. What good is winning if Anne isn’t there?

  “Gramps, I’ll admit the thought has crossed my mind, especially since Anne came into the picture. But I’ve been a nomad so long I’m not sure I can settle down. Maybe I’m too much like my dad. Footloose and—”

  “Now, hold it right there, boy. I don’t want to make you feel bad, but the truth is you don’t know squat about your daddy. You were just a little tyke when he passed away. And it’s pretty clear to me that you got certain things mixed up in your mind.” He coughed. “It hurts me to say this about my own son, but John wasn’t the hero you’ve always made him out to be. He was a troubled young man who made rash decisions, ran away from responsibility, and…hid from his troubles in a bottle.”

  That old memory of the funeral came back to him. “Was he drunk when he died?”

  “It’s possible. We’ll never know for sure. There were a few beer cans in the wreckage, but the sheriff was a friend of mine. He didn’t ask for an autopsy. We both agreed your grandmother couldn’t have handled the results if it showed Johnny was drunk when the crash happened.” He cleared his throat again. “Doesn’t much matter, anyway. He was driving too fast—they could tell that from the skid marks. He wasn’t thinking about what might come from it if something happened to him. How much his mother would suffer. How much his little boy would miss him. That his son might grow up thinking he had to fill his daddy’s shoes. Follow his daddy’s dream. Even if it killed him.”

  Tears burned behind Will’s eyes. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing, Gramps? Living my father’s life?”

  A.J. didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know, son. I’m an old man. You and Annie and Zoey are the only kin I’ve got left. All I know for sure is that I’d be a lot happier about coming home if I thought there was a chance we might be more of a f
amily.”

  Will felt as if he was being torn in two. Anne and A.J. on one side of the tug-of-war rope, his lifelong dream on the other. “I’ll give your offer some thought, Gramps, but I can’t promise anything. Especially where Anne is concerned. She’s got her life pretty well planned out.”

  “That’s our Annie,” A.J. said with a chuckle. “Like I said, I’m starting for home, but I got a whole country to cross, so you all can use the time to think about what you want to do. If you decide to give bull riding one more shot, you’ll have my support. Just like always. If you decide to stay at the Silver Rose, then we’ll make it official and put your name on the deed. Same goes for Anne.”

  “Thank you, Gramps. For everything.”

  There was a funny, muffled sound, like a man using a handkerchief while juggling a receiver. A few seconds later, his grandfather mumbled goodbye, then the connection ended.

  Will hung up then quickly called Anne’s cellular number. There was no answer. He didn’t leave a message.

  He rose. He needed to ride. Clear his head. Do a little soul-searching. He was almost to the foyer when the phone rang. He paused and listened to the answering machine. If it was A.J. again… “Will? Are you there? This is Anne. It’s Zoey…”

  Will raced back to pick it up. “Anne,” he cried. “What happened?”

  “Zoey had an asthma attack. A bad one.”

  He closed his eyes, remembering all too vividly Zoey’s desperate breathing that first morning. “What caused it?”

  “A…a combination of things,” she said, her voice strained and whispery. “Not enough sleep. I’m not completely clear on whether or not she took her pills. She might have used a feather pillow, even though her regular pillow was in her backpack. Plus, there was something about a dog.”

  Will sensed she wasn’t telling him everything. “Where are you? I’ll be right there.”

  “That’s not necessary. I just wanted to tell you—”

  “Anne,” Will snapped. “Where are you?”

  She gave him the name of an urgent-care clinic he’d noticed on his drive to the airport.