Bootscootin' and Cozy Cash Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-6)

by Scott, D. D.

  “Fair enough.” Zayne left the envelope on the table, maintaining the unwavering aloofness of a pro.

  Zayne’s approach was killing Roxy. What would it hurt to show a little excitement for cripe’s sake?

  “Most everything you’ll want to consider is in the packet here.” Nosebaum tapped the white envelope with a finger donning a fabulous black onyx and platinum ring. “You’ve seen the ballroom version of the show, but we’re ready for a country set and dance element.”

  He ran his hands down his tie, smoothing what was already pristine.

  “The Neon Cowboy’s certainly a perfect location,” Zayne responded, rotating Nosebaum’s card between his fingers.

  Zayne looked at Roxy.

  Cognizant his eyes were talking, but clueless as to what he was trying to tell her, Roxy faked understanding, winking and nodding her head in agreement. Acting as if she were on him like butter, encouraging him to do God knew what.

  “And as for my partner and my involvement, we’ll take a look at your info and get back with you.” Zayne put the card in his shirt pocket.

  “How long are you in town?” Roxy used the same casual demeanor as Zayne, despite her giddiness.

  “Through next Sunday. I need to scope out the city for the show’s producers.” Nosebaum loosened his tie.

  “We’ll be in touch way before then,” she said, before Zayne could balk. “I’ll tell you what, Mr. Nosebaum. You’ll get a better feel for the area without that fabulous suit holding you back. I happen to know a little about fashion. How about if I take you over to The Neon Cowboy’s western wear and gift corral on your way out tonight?”

  Zayne may have power, but Roxy had charm, and she could turn it up a notch when she needed to reel in a big fish.

  “His gear’s on the house, Roxy.” Zayne stated his approval then squeezed Roxy’s palm with his fingers, his overly firm grip effectively silencing her.

  Okay…so he must have wanted to take back the upper hand. Got it, Roxy thought. But he’d better not blow this amazing opportunity.

  “Thank you, Mr. McDonald.” Nosebaum stood as the music ended. “I’ll take you up on Ms. Vaughn’s fashion expertise, but the network will foot the bill. You’re both worth the investment. Looks like you’re up again. I’m going to move closer so I can see better. Thank you for your time.”

  “You bet. We’ll be in touch.” Zayne shook Nosebaum’s hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” Roxy said and thought about shaking the man’s hand too. She hugged him instead, enjoying the look of horror taking over Zayne’s once cool exterior.

  “I’ll set some things out for you in the corral. Medium shirt. Pants 30-36. And size 10, medium width shoes. Right?”

  Nosebaum smiled and raised his brow. “Yes, Ms. Vaughn, that’s correct.”

  “Roxy. Call me, Roxy.” She smiled then shrugged her shoulders, showing him nothing but sweet satisfaction.

  “Call me Howie…I mean Howard,” Nosebaum said, his face turning a blushed pink that matched his shirt.

  Zayne stammered like a bull, his body rigid, waiting for the gate to open for a ride. He pulled Roxy toward the dance floor in a heated fury.

  “Howie? Give me a fuckin’ break,” Zayne cursed and picked-up his pace.

  “Not so aloof now are we, cowboy?”

  Score one for the cowgirl.

  • • •

  “So tell us everything,” Audrey gushed when the six of them were back at the table. “This could be a fantastic avenue for Raeve! You did consider that, didn’t you, Roxy?”

  Roxy should have but was too embarrassed to admit otherwise. “Um. Yeah. Got it.”

  “What do you mean ‘got it,’ Rox?” Audrey’s wheels were clearly in ultra commercial mode. “Can you imagine your sales if America saw your quirky take on country fashion — prime time, every week?”

  “Audrey, Mom’s gonna snag you up for the saloon’s PR if you keep talking like that,” Zayne said, using his napkin to wipe off the condensation dripping down his beer bottle. “Raeve will be a hoppin’ madhouse with you two commercial wizards on board.”

  Audrey also picked up her napkin, but not for condensation control. Taking a pen out of her Balenciaga bag, she jotted notes on marketing and doodled logo and tag lines, totally taken up by her promotional instincts.

  Damn, Roxy was glad to be back in her and Jules’ company. With a cowboy romance and dance stars on the horizon, she needed her friends’ solicited and unsolicited sanity checks. Thinking about all these changes and possibilities made Roxy’s head hurt. She was used to acting first, examining the whys and consequences if and only if she’d been knocked off her horse.

  Even though she knew Zayne’s caution was warranted, Roxy wanted to risk the adventure of the opportunity just presented. She’d moved to Nashville to accept new responsibilities and chart her own success. Bootscooting on prime time was a chance she planned on taking.

  “So what do you do now?” Cody moved his hat lower on his head, his voice’s hesitant concern playing against Zayne’s cucumber cool enthusiasm.

  “I’m not sure.” Zayne pulled at the label on his bottle. “The tomatoes have to be my priority. I already made that commitment. But damn I’d love to consider doing the show. You know that’s my real bag.”

  Not sure why, but trusting her instincts, Roxy came into Zayne’s tomato corner even though her mind was already dancing to stellar network ratings. “You’ve got a point. I’m not really in a position to take time away from Raeve. I’ve got to — want to — make that business successful. Jesus. Nosebaum’s timing sucks!”

  “Such is life,” Damian entered the arena with his booming, deep voice.

  He was such a big man wearing a little boy heart beneath his western shirt — a heart that fit well with Audrey’s maternal knack. Audrey took care of people. Always taking them under her wing. Although she’d have a hard time getting her tiny frame wrapped around Damian’s hunky side of beef.

  “Look at us!” Jules popped her canary diamond-clad hand against the tabletop. “We should be celebrating! It’s not every Saturday night — well, speaking of New York at least — that you’re discovered as prime time bootscootin’ material. Can we lighten up? Table the commiserating ‘til tomorrow?”

  “I agree,” Kat said, moving out of a shadow created by a pillar supporting the saloon’s second floor. “Mr. Nosebaum just filled me in. For two people offered one helluva deal, you’re pathetic.”

  Roxy felt the heaviness of decision-making take a clear exit. Thank God for head strong, no nonsense women like Kat McDonald to kick concern to the curb. “Kat, I’m so glad you’re here. I want to introduce you to my two best friends — Audrey and Jules.”

  “I feel like I know you both already. Roxy’s told me all the good stuff. And I expect you two to give me the naughty versions real soon.” Kat moved next to Zayne, placing a comforting, but protective hand on his shoulder.

  “Audrey, I’m looking forward to working with you at Raeve. And we’ve got Damian to build what we want for the place,” Kat said, welcoming Audrey into her fold.

  Kat took a minute, breathing in deeply with a slight catch to her airflow.

  Zayne didn’t notice her falter or he would have been tending to her by now, Roxy thought. But she did. And she didn’t like what she saw.

  “And Jules,” Kat continued with an unnatural, forced vivacity. “I hear you’re a diva in the kitchen.”

  “You cook?” Cody perked up, moving his hat off his head, allowing his hairline to make a rare guest appearance. “So do I.”

  Jules shrugged like ‘who-knew,’ her orneriness barely contained.

  “I’ll tell you what. How about if we all have brunch at the farm tomorrow? Say around 10:30? Then we can discuss Mr. Nosebaum’s offer.” Kat rubbed Zayne’s shoulders.

  Like the well-trained son he was, Zayne caught onto his mother’s gentle prodding and repeated her invitation.

  Damian mocked him, earning Zayne’s wadded up nap
kin in his lap.

  “You won’t be poking fun, Damian, when Audrey and I get done with you. Will he, dear?” Kat came to her son’s defense, goading Audrey to follow her lead.

  “I doubt it,” Audrey looked at Damian, allowing only her smile as a hint she was giggling inside with the rest of them, her compassion tinged by the humor she preferred to keep in check.

  “Why don’t you sit and join us, Kat? Take a break,” Roxy asked her, worried her color was off unless it was the saloon’s dark lighting.

  “You know, kids, I’m a bit tired and fixin’ to head home. But thanks for the offer.”

  Kat fidgeted with her new Buckles Me Baby prototype belt. She’d chosen the coral and turquoise design mounted on metallic silver leather. She’d convinced Roxy to let her wear it tonight, promising she’d talk up sales. And Roxy had to hand it to the woman. The belt was a stunning accent to her white cotton fitted blouse and jeans.

  “Take care. I’ll see you all in the morning,” Kat said.

  Zayne stood, placed a kiss on her cheek then hugged her, his actions marked with an intense strength, a powerful bond defying challenge. Roxy couldn’t remember when she’d last shown that kind of affection for her mother. Or when her mother would have wanted such raw, natural emotion shown in public.

  Transferring her affection from her son to Roxy, Kat kissed Roxy’s cheek and gave her a swift hug, leaving an emotional hold Roxy didn’t consider shaking off. Roxy’s body froze, perhaps afraid to accept the warmth Kat offered.

  How could she not want that kind of strong, generous love? Unaccompanied by strings or false sincerity. Maybe because she’d never met a woman of Kat’s social standing who wasn’t afraid or embarrassed to reveal love and devotion. A woman who had a huge heart but chose to wear it on designer shirtsleeves.

  Roxy turned to Kat to reciprocate, not sure how to show her gratitude for being made to feel a part of Kat’s life. How was she supposed to get close to a woman like Kat, who was her mother in as many ways as she differed from Lily Vaughn? How was Roxy supposed to give love when she’d never been shown love?

  But when Roxy reached out for Kat, determined to try, time rolled in slow motion as Kat collapsed to the floor.

  Chapter Fifteen

  When his mother fell to The Neon Cowboy’s floor, Zayne let-out a desperate cry. Roxy couldn’t shake the sound. Her insides ripped apart.

  Twenty minutes later, sitting in the waiting room at Baptist Hospital, the sirens’ wails still pierced Roxy’s core. She’d now spent two Saturday nights here. Not the fun-filled weekends she’d planned.

  Stay with us, Kat. We need you. Roxy silently coached the woman she’d grown to respect, keeping her tears bottled because Kat would want her to be strong. Refusing to cry too because Zayne needed her strength. Roxy couldn’t fall apart, leaving Zayne alone to deal with his pain and fear.

  He sat across from her, his head buried in his hands. She wanted to hold him, let him lean against her, but didn’t know if he’d welcome and recognize her touch as comfort.

  She marveled at the tenderness and vulnerability a tough man like Zayne McDonald showed when someone he loved was hurting. After his mom collapsed and lay seemingly lifeless under the table, he’d found her pulse. The beat was shallow and light, but it was there.

  For what seemed like an eternity before help arrived, Roxy and Zayne had knelt at Kat’s side. Their friends closed-in around them, forming a protective barrier. Holding onto the hope then coming from Zayne’s eyes, Roxy had stroked Kat’s cold, clammy hands until the emergency responders asked her to move aside so they could work. She’d let go of Kat, fearful it would be forever.

  If beating the disease was a matter of will power, though, Kat had already won. Her graceful presence, her kind soul coupled with her tenacity, fed an inner strength Roxy knew would fight hard to overcome these physical obstacles.

  If only she and Zayne had his mother’s courage.

  Zayne’s head was still buried in his hands. His shoulders shook. Roxy crossed over to him, kneeling at his feet. Clasping his trembling, tear-soaked hands, she massaged his knuckles with her fingertips.

  “I knew, Roxy,” he choked out between sobs. “I knew something was wrong with her. But I never took time to ask.”

  “I knew too.” Without thinking, Roxy’s guilt gushed forth, as if the springs of the gate holding her secret had popped.

  “What do you mean?” Zayne lifted his head, his eyes weary and red but searching her out. “How could you have known anything? You’ve only been around her for a few weeks.”

  Shit. This was not the way Roxy had envisioned circumventing her promise to Kat. Abiding by Kat’s wish, keeping the truth from Zayne, hadn’t been easy to accept to begin with. Now, it was damn near impossible.

  Roxy couldn’t lie to him. But she also couldn’t betray Kat’s trust. Zayne would never understand any of this. He’d never forgive his mother for not confiding in him. But, he’d also never understand her and Roxy’s new bond. Hell, Roxy didn’t know what to think of their budding friendship. Zayne would never get how much Roxy now craved the connection he’d forced.

  If she confessed that his mother had discussed her heart problem with her instead of him, Roxy would be partly to blame for the wedge that would likely come between mother and son. But with a lie blocking their path, how could Roxy’s relationship with Zayne flourish?

  As she returned to her chair, pining for time to think of how exactly she’d be in-the-know about Kat’s health, an attending physician walked into the waiting room and saved her. His stone-like face was expressionless, absent hope or despair. How long, how many patients, had it taken for him to lose empathy?

  “Mr. McDonald?” The doctor stopped directly in front of Zayne, squaring his lean body with Zayne’s chair. “I’m Dr. Walters.”

  “Are you Mrs. McDonald?” He asked with controlled politeness, taking a stab at Roxy’s familial association.

  “No, Doc. This is Roxy Vaughn, a friend of my mother.” Zayne took Roxy’s hand. “And my friend too.”

  At least she’d met the friend billing, Roxy reasoned, even if it was an afterthought. And she meant enough to him to merit his hand possessively wrapped around hers. Who cared if it was just a balls-for-balls volley with the good doctor?

  “Very well.” Dr. Walters pulled a small coffee table toward them, cleared some dog-eared copies of People from the top and sat.

  “How is she?” Zayne fidgeted with his watch, moving it back and forth across his wrist.

  “Your mom’s resting comfortably. We got to her in time. But she might not be as lucky in the future.” The doc pushed a dark mop of his hair-cut-needing locks away from his face, haphazardly tucking the loose strands behind one ear.

  “There’ll be a next time? I don’t understand.” Zayne’s knee bounced up and down until Roxy stilled it with her palm.

  “How much do you know about your mom’s illness?” Dr. Walter’s asked, his brow arched, evidently surprised by Zayne’s naivety regarding her condition.

  “What illness?” Zayne removed his hat and spun it on his hands. “I’ve noticed she’s looked tired lately. And she hasn’t been eating good. But with my father’s death, I just assumed…Christ!”

  Zayne shoved-up from his chair and paced the room. With each stride, he clutched and bent the brim of his hat with such force Roxy thought it would snap into two pieces.

  “Your mother has congestive heart failure,” the doctor said.

  The words came from his lips with the same lack of emotion he’d first addressed them with. Like it was all in a night’s work to bring families bad news. So God damn clinical, Roxy thought. She wanted to kick his ass for his cruel indifference, but now wasn’t the time. Although, when this was over, she’d damn well let hospital administration know her concerns.

  Zayne stopped pacing the room and fell back into his chair. Looking at Roxy, his eyes pleaded for help.

  And she planned on getting some from Dr. Personality.


  “Could you explain the diagnosis to us in terms we’d understand?” She asked, a razor sharp edge to her otherwise polite inquiry.

  “Certainly. Congestive heart failure means the heart isn’t pumping as it should, resulting in fatigue and shortness of breath,” he said, droning on as if the Physician’s Desk Reference inside his head was on auto-play. “Everyday activities like walking, climbing stairs and getting groceries become increasingly difficult until the heart simply quits working at all.”

  Roxy put her arm through Zaynes, locking her fingers with his. His body quivered, making her heart break.

  “How do we cure her condition?” She asked, squeezing Zayne’s hand.

  “There is no cure.” Without hesitation, Dr. Walters stated the prognosis, although his eyes lost their hard edge as he continued. “But with the right treatment and careful attention to her lifestyle, she can live a full and meaningful life. Her cardiologist, Dr. Mack, will tell you more.”

  Roxy vise-gripped Zayne’s fingers. He never flinched or pulled away. If he was like her, he was too numb to move. Exhausted and scared senseless, Roxy was in too much of a fog to process the doctor’s information. For now, she thought, they both simply needed to see Kat, confirming she was still very much alive, despite the doctor’s grim analysis.

  “When can we see her?” She asked.

  “Let me check with her nurses. I’ll then send one of them back to get you.” Dr. Walters stood and turned to leave, but pivoted back toward them. “I’m sorry.”

  Caught off guard by his impromptu sincerity, Roxy thought the man actually meant the tone of comfort he’d finally produced. Maybe to shield himself from the pain he relayed to others, he’d developed a thick indifference.

  The doctor left the room, leaving Roxy and Zayne alone with their fears. The silence descending on them couldn’t chill Roxy anymore than the doctor’s words. No longer able to sit idle, she rose and took her turn wearing out the hideous orange carpet.

  She couldn’t lose Kat. She’d filled a void Roxy hadn’t been aware she’d had. Used to tackling life’s challenges on her own, absent mentors, Roxy flew solo. Being as her parents weren’t filling those roles and without Kat, Roxy was alone again. For the first time, she didn’t want to be.