Cowgirl Next Door (Sutter's Hollow Book 3)

by Lacy Williams

  "Wait up, man."

  Noah had an insane urge to run. He knew better. He needed to concentrate to navigate his way back home. Fence, gate, driveway.

  He kept walking. The last thing he needed was for Jilly or one of the kids to overhear whatever Callum was about to say.

  "What do you want?" He growled the words.

  Calum hesitated. "I tried calling you when I came back to town. Left a couple of messages."

  Noah had screened those messages. It had only taken a few seconds to recognize his former friend's voice, and he had deleted that first message and the two following without listening to them.

  Now he shrugged. "I'm not interested in revisiting the past." Just saying the words brought him back to the hope and then the devastation of graduation night.

  There was something hard in Callum's voice when he responded. "Not with me, apparently. What are you doing messing around with Jilly?"

  Noah’s shoes hit the driveway. Not much longer, and he could put a slab of wood between himself and his former friend. He shook his head, shook away the misgivings that Callum's words brought to the surface. "Things are different with Jilly." She didn't know his secret.

  He didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, he'd started imagining a future with Jilly. It wasn't a long future.

  He wouldn't ask for that. He didn't dare want anything beyond tomorrow. One visit from Lindsey and Casey and PJ in the afternoon to let the kids play with Honey Bear, a few precious moments with Jilly, and he’d be happy.

  He wanted it so badly.

  And the past that Callum was bringing up was the worst threat he could imagine.

  Maybe he was imagining it, but he thought he heard a soft sigh as his shoes hit the front step. "If you're going to be dating Jilly—"

  "I'm not dating her. We're friends and barely that." Saying it aloud caused a hollow pit to open up in his stomach.

  He got his hand on the doorknob.

  "Fine. You're just friends. Don't you think we should make some sort of peace? If we see each other again—"

  "That's not gonna happen." He let himself in and shut the door.

  He was a coward.

  * * *

  By the time Callum made it back to the house, the kids had tired of flag football and gone inside.

  Iris met her husband just off the back porch. Jilly knew because she was chipping apart a ten-pound bag of ice in the sink and saw them out the window.

  She saw Callum's drawn expression.

  Chip.

  Obviously, it hadn't gone well with Noah. She remembered the Noah from a few weeks ago, who'd slammed the door in her face. What had Callum expected?

  Chip, chip.

  Iris laid her hand on Callum's forearm. Jilly couldn't see her sister's face, but there was no way Iris was silent. Her sister was either commiserating or giving Callum a piece of her mind. Or both.

  Chip, chip.

  Who was doing the same for Noah? No one.

  Chip, chip.

  Slowly, some of the tension bled off of Callum. He said something to Iris with a rueful half-smile and then jerked his head toward the house.

  Chip, chip.

  Noah wouldn't release his tension like Callum had. He'd hold onto whatever awful thoughts were swirling in his head because that was what he did.

  Because he didn't have anyone to talk to.

  Jilly quickly dumped the ice into a bucket.

  She saw the look that Iris shot her as she entered the back door ahead of Callum. Her sister wanted answers. They'd never officially cleared the air since that morning weeks ago. Jilly had been avoiding her calls since the doctor's visit.

  Jilly didn't want Iris to know about the blood work, and she didn't want to explain everything that had happened with Noah—from the paint to the kitten to today's game. Luckily, she was saved by the doorbell as the first non-family party guests arrived.

  She pretended to focus on Lindsey so she didn't have to be alone with Iris.

  Two little girls from Lindsey's class at school arrived together. And, miraculously, Kitty did not reappear. One of the girls asked to see Lindsey's room, and the girl shyly agreed to show them.

  Jilly said goodbye to the school mom’s—whose names she should remember but couldn't—just as Casey and PJ ran in to the living room, with Levi and Brandt following. All four boys had Nerf guns and were firing Styrofoam darts in all directions.

  Another little girl was dropped off, and then a little boy, and the party continued in a state of mild chaos until the cake had been consumed and gifts opened.

  Jilly watched from behind the couch as Lindsey beamed and exclaimed over the bracelet-making set Iris had purchased for her. She couldn't help noticing that Lindsey hadn't taken off the camera Noah had given her. It hung from a lanyard around the girl's neck, constantly getting in her way but apparently not a nuisance to the girl.

  Callum's twins started a wrapping paper war, and Jilly retreated to the kitchen to retrieve a trash bag.

  Iris was there, looking in a lower cabinet. Probably nauseated again.

  Jilly tapped the upper cabinet next to Iris on her way to the doors below the sink. "I had to move the saltines. PJ ate a whole sleeve one afternoon while I wasn't watching, and I wanted to make sure I had some for you."

  Iris sent her a grateful look and went after the crackers.

  Jilly shook out the trash bag, but stalled on her way back to the living room. Let them have one or two more minutes of fun.

  "She seems better," Iris said. "Lindsey," she clarified when Jilly sent her a questioning look. "She seems happy. Like a normal kid."

  Jilly sighed. "She is a normal kid."

  Iris grimaced slightly. "You know what I mean. Being here has settled her. You've settled her."

  Jilly glanced through the doorway to see PJ leap over the couch, launching an armful of crumpled paper grenades. She couldn't help but smile.

  "They're good kids buried under baggage. Sometimes, I can get them to set down one of their suitcases." And sometimes they picked it back up when she wasn't expecting it.

  Iris leveled a glance on Jilly that made her want to squirm. "You seem different, too."

  Jilly crunched her brows. "What does that mean?"

  "I mean, you're keeping secrets."

  Jilly shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

  "Noah? Your neighbor?"

  "You knew we were going over to fix the graffiti."

  She tried to escape the conversation by retreating to the living room, but the kids had run upstairs, and Iris followed her. Callum was visible through the window, standing on the front porch on a phone call.

  Jilly busied herself picking up the ripped wrapping paper strewn across the floor.

  "You told me he was a grumpy recluse who didn't want you over there. That's not what it looked like when you were cuddling out in the yard."

  "He tackled me!"

  But Iris shot her a look that said just what she thought about that excuse, and Jilly stuffed more paper in her trash bag, face hot.

  When they'd been tangled together on the ground, she'd thought things about Noah that she had no business thinking.

  Things like how she wanted to kiss him again.

  "Noah needs a friend," she muttered. This time she punched the trash into the bag.

  "Says who?" Iris asked. "Seems to me like you being his friend means you stay isolated out here. I haven't seen you in two weeks."

  She turned away from Iris to fetch a ball of paper caught in the branches of the overloaded Christmas tree. "We've been busy." Busy painting Noah's house and going to visit Honey Bear. Guilt slashed through Jilly. She’d been avoiding her sister because she didn't want her to know about the doctor's visit.

  But Iris had been worrying over her baby since she'd learned she was pregnant. Jilly was her best friend. She'd probably needed a listening ear, and Jilly hadn't been there for her.

  She stood up, trash bag in hand, ready to apologi
ze.

  But Iris's cheeks were flushed with temper, her mouth set in a stubborn line. "I'm trying to warn you, Jilly. This isn't like you."

  Jilly's own temper sparked in response. Like Iris hadn't been distracted when Callum had come back to Sutter's Hollow and they'd fallen in love all over again? What right did she have to say that to Jilly?

  "What isn't like me? Having compassion on someone who needs a friend?" Okay, that might be taking it a tad too far. She'd sort of barged in on Noah from the start. "Being a mom when I can barely remember having one?"

  Iris's expression softened slightly, but Jilly wasn't done.

  "Maybe the reason you think I'm changing or keeping secrets is because you've never wanted to see the real me. You've been too wrapped up in your own life. I'm doing this by myself. Those kids aren't easy."

  Iris went pale, the color in her cheeks standing out. She looked devastated, but Jilly turned away.

  And saw PJ at the top of the stairs, eyes wide and hurt.

  "PJ—"

  Before she could even start up the stairs after him, Lindsey and her friends thundered down the hall and then the stairs.

  "Can we have more ice cream?" Lindsey asked.

  When Jilly looked up the stairs, PJ was gone.

  Crap.

  She did not need another meltdown right now. This one would be all her fault.

  "Let me go check on your brother," she told Lindsey.

  There was a chorus of "aw!" and Lindsey's lower lip was suddenly trembling.

  "But I didn't have any with my cake," she whispered.

  And Iris was there, tight-lipped. "I'll dish out some ice cream."

  * * *

  Noah's phone rang well after the party must've ended.

  He was happy for the distraction, eager to hit the button that stopped his screen reader from droning out legalese as he reviewed the contract that had finally come through.

  It was the ringtone he'd assigned to Jilly. Uptown girl.

  He didn't even consider not answering. "Hey." He stood up and stretched.

  "Hey, Aiden. Can you call Noah for me?"

  Aiden? Had she dialed the wrong number?

  Envy flared hot and bright, and then her words registered. She was teasing him.

  "Ha ha," he said drily. "He's too young for you."

  She snorted. "Maybe I like younger men."

  And maybe Aiden would be good for her. His assistant was personable and responsible and... sighted.

  That absolutely wasn't a flare of jealousy tearing through his gut.

  "I'm not interested in long distance," she said.

  And suddenly, the silence buzzing between them was loaded with meaning. Was she interested in short-distance? Like the distance between their two houses?

  He swallowed against the want that rose inside him. He wouldn't ask.

  When the silence lasted a beat too long, she cleared her throat. "I was actually calling to ask if you needed to talk."

  She was?

  "When Callum got back to the house earlier..."

  She left the sentence hanging, but he could guess. Callum was frustrated. Angry. Disappointed.

  Noah had taken the mishmash of emotions and compressed it into a ball and stuffed it into the dark recesses of his soul. Where everything else he didn't want to regret lived.

  "I don't want to talk about that."

  She was silent for a moment. Then, "Okay. I have to go back to the oncologist Monday morning after I drop off the kids at school."

  He waited for her to say something else. Why was she telling him?

  "Did you talk to your sister?" he asked.

  "Not about that." Her words were clipped, loaded with meaning he couldn't begin to decipher.

  So, she still didn't want Iris to know about the appointment.

  But she'd told him about it.

  "Do you want me to go with you?"

  She hesitated.

  Of course she didn't want him to go with her. They weren't close. Just because he'd inserted himself at her last appointment didn't mean she needed him.

  He was the one who'd had a change of heart over the past few days. He wanted her in his life, even if he could only have her in snatches.

  He opened his mouth to retract the stupid question when he heard the soft catch in her breath. "Would you?"

  14

  Jilly pulled into the hospital parking lot and parked near the non-emergency entrance. She sat in the car for a few moments with her hands on the wheel while the engine ticked.

  This was it.

  She was going to walk in there and find out whether the cancer had come back. The next few minutes could change her life.

  She knew Noah was waiting for her, so she made herself get out of the car when she would've delayed.

  She had invited him to ride along as she’d dropped off the kids to school, but he had declined in favor of using his car service. She didn't know whether that was because he didn't want the kids to get the wrong idea about their friendship, or he didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

  As she walked to the entrance, she saw him standing on the sidewalk near the automatic glass doors.

  She wasn't close enough to greet him yet when she saw his head turn as a man and woman who must be in their seventies approached. The man was pushing the woman in a wheelchair.

  Noah had his cane out in front of him, a clear sign of his blindness.

  The man was outright staring but walked right by Noah without even acknowledging him.

  Jilly hit the sidewalk at the same time the couple entered through the doors. "Hey."

  This time his head turned in her direction. "Morning."

  He raised his hand and extended a Styrofoam coffee mug in its sleeve.

  "What's this for?"

  "Thought you might need it. I asked the driver to stop at the little coffee hut. I asked them if you had a regular order, and this is what they gave me."

  She raised it to her nose and took a deep sniff. It smelled like heaven. Between the busyness of getting the kids ready and out the door for school and getting herself ready for this appointment, she had only taken a few sips of her coffee. And she'd only remembered that she'd left it sitting on the kitchen counter when they were halfway to town.

  "Thank you."

  He'd been thinking about her. That warmed her up more than the coffee. Maybe it was a cloud passing over the weak winter sun, but she could've sworn there was a blush high on his cheek bones.

  "Can I ask you something?" she asked as she touched his arm and they moved together to go inside.

  "Sure."

  "Right before I got here, there was a couple who went into the hospital. The husband was staring at you. Did he say anything to you?"

  "Not really."

  Maybe it was because she was on high alert, but she couldn't help noticing that the receptionist behind the lobby desk did a double-take at Noah, too.

  Noah was still talking, though his expression showed his discomfort. "It's... weird. It’s as if people stare because they feel they can. Because I can’t see them."

  She was the one experiencing discomfort now. "Have I done that to you?"

  He turned his head so she could see the smile making his lips twitch. "You're joking, right?"

  Right. Because he wouldn’t know if she had. She searched her heart and her memory bank, trying to determine whether she’d stared at Noah with unbridled curiosity.

  She didn’t know. She hadn’t been that self-aware in the beginning, when he’d been her cranky neighbor.

  But she was aware now.

  It was a short walk across the atrium. When they reached the elevator bank, she had another thought.

  "How'd you find me in the oncology wing? You were by yourself that day."

  The fluorescent lights inside the elevator illuminated the flush in his face. "I told the girl working the reception desk that you were my girlfriend and I needed to find you." He glanced away like he was embarrassed.

&nbs
p; She wasn't. It was a genius move.

  "And she didn't even question you, because..." Because of Noah’s blindness.

  "Because it might've been awkward if she did."

  It was both awful and convenient.

  They were walking down the hallway toward the oncologist's office when a page came over the intercom. Noah's arm tensed beneath her fingers.

  Before she could ask why, they'd arrived.

  She gave her name to the receptionist, and Noah followed her to a seat on the far wall. The waiting room was empty for once.

  He seemed more on edge then she remembered from the last time they'd been in the same room. Or maybe she'd been so wrapped up in her own worries that she hadn't noticed. He let his cane rest between his knees, and the knuckles of his right hand were white where he gripped it.

  "You really don't like hospitals, do you?"

  He visibly tried to relax his shoulders. He rolled his head side to side as if loosening up the muscles in his neck. "It's not that bad."

  "Liar. "

  He shrugged. It was fascinating to watch as he started tapping on his knee with the fingers of his empty hand. As soon as he realized what he was doing his fingers flexed, and he twisted them on his thigh.

  "Why did you come if it was going to stress you out this much?"

  "Because you asked."

  It was almost a... romantic thing to say. She flushed, heat rolling up her neck and into her face.

  She needed a diversion, quick.

  "I hope you like macaroni and cheese glued on paper crafts," she said. "I have it on good authority that Lindsey is making some special art for Christmas gifts."

  Surprise lit his expression as if he had completely forgotten that Christmas was only three weeks out. "She doesn't need to do anything for me."

  "I'm pretty sure it's way too late to stop her."

  One corner of his lip turned up in a smile.

  "The kids did comment on your lack of Christmas decor," she said. "No outdoor lights, no tree, not even a wreath on your front door?"

  He pulled a face. "I don't usually decorate if it's going to just be me."

  How depressing.

  "Are you going to go see your mom? I'm fairly certain you have a house full of cat sitters that can watch Honey Bear for you."