Opposing the Cowboy

by Margo Bond Collins

  Or would he have charmed her, anyway?

  She was so unbelievably stupid. It had all been an act, designed to keep her from seeing what he was up to as he worked out how, precisely, to screw her out of the mineral rights.

  She snorted. Literally screw me out of them.

  She might not have been able to stop him from stealing her heart while he slipped drilling rights out from under her, but she didn’t have to allow him to continue to hurt her.

  Time to cowboy up, LeeAnn.

  With a rueful grin, she straightened her spine, drew in a deep breath, rolled up her mat, and headed inside. At least now that she knew for sure that the rights belonged to Sami and Bev, she could quit worrying about it. And she wouldn’t ever have to see Jonah Hamilton again.

  No more crying.

  Rebound guys don’t deserve tears.

  At least, that’s what she told herself—for all the good it did.

  No, she decided as she pulled open the door. I need to see him one last time. This won’t be like Darrell. I won’t let this man lie and cheat and walk out on me without saying something.

  I’m going to tell him exactly what I think of him.

  And then she would never again forget that he was not to be trusted.

  No one was.

  The only person she could really rely upon was herself.

  But somehow, the thought rang hollow.

  …

  Jonah stared at the text from LeeAnn on his phone: “I need to see you.”

  The last thing he wanted was to see her again. At least, not under these circumstances.

  Of course, he was going to have to deal with her one more time to get her signature on the right-of-way contract for the survey and drilling teams. And he owed her a paycheck.

  This moment should have felt like victory. He was used to winning, used to his gambles paying off. It was part of why he was so good at his job.

  It was why Nathan had called him that morning to let him know that Natural Shale was definitely planning to offer him the senior landman position. The paperwork should make its way through the system in about a month.

  But the elation of making the deal, closing the case, finishing the contract, reaching the goal—it was all missing, leaving behind only an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  God save me from any more victories like this one. I don’t think I could survive it.

  If he were honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he was going to survive this one.

  Shaking off the thought, he pulled his leather-covered checkbook out of the back pocket of his Levi’s and began calculating the hours LeeAnn had spent searching through the attic. He ripped a deposit statement out of the back of the checkbook and added up the numbers, then stared at the total.

  Had they really spent that much time together?

  He thought back.

  Six outbuildings—though we only got through three before I found the letter. Two old barns. One empty stable. One huge attic.

  One shower.

  One bed.

  Dropping his head into his hands, he blew out a defeated breath. He had managed to avoid thinking about the shower—or the bed, for that matter—until now.

  His heart sat like lead in his chest.

  One more time. It wasn’t fair to either of them to walk away without a word. He owed it to himself, if not to LeeAnn, to tell her that he wouldn’t be back.

  After a few more calculations, he wrote out the check, then carefully tore it along the perforated edge. He slipped it into a hotel envelope, scrawled her name across the front, and stared at the words for a long time before he finally grabbed his keys and left the room.

  This is the last time I have to see her—and then I’ll be free of her forever.

  Free to go back to his life, with the promotion he’d been aiming for. More stable than ever before. In control of his life.

  Without any flaky yogis to distract him from his goals.

  So why did the thought of never seeing her again make his shoulders tighten in misery?

  …

  As she turned into the parking lot linking the Wagon Wheel to the rest of the block, LeeAnn scanned for Jonah’s pickup.

  The bright morning sunlight glinting off the windshields seemed far too cheerful for her mood today. The Stockyards District was beginning to stir, but later in the day, it would be crowded as the tourists made their way to the daily longhorn cattle drive over on Exchange Street.

  Normally, this kind of spring morning would brighten everything around it.

  It should be raining.

  Of course he opted to meet outside, she fumed. It makes for an easier getaway.

  Spotting an old green truck, LeeAnn veered toward it—until she spied a pair of Truck Nutz dangling from the back. Apparently whoever owned the Ford was a local. LeeAnn wondered if he had noticed the reattachment job Jonah had done on the plastic testicles.

  Cursing to herself, she pulled into a spot and parked. In the last few days, she had discovered that she couldn’t go anywhere without memories of Jonah popping up. It was like he had touched every part of her life.

  Contaminated it.

  But she didn’t sound convinced, even in the confines of her own mind. No matter how angry she was, part of her still longed for him to return. Not that she would ever admit that, even to herself.

  A sharp rap at her window jerked her out of her scowling reverie.

  Jonah took a step back from her car and stared off at something in the distance.

  Her stomach clenched, sending flutters up through her entire torso. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember why she was here.

  Why did I think I had to say this in person?

  All she wanted to do was run away.

  But I’m not the coward he is. I won’t leave without telling him exactly what I think of what he’s done.

  Right. Putting on my big-girl panties. Again.

  Om…

  She could do this. All she had to do was say her piece, then get back in the car and go home, where every part of the ranch, even her house, reminded her of Jonah.

  Opening the door, she stepped out onto the pavement, grounding herself through the earth, feeling the power of the entire world move up and through her.

  Breathe. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three, four—

  “You said you needed to talk to me?” Jonah’s tone was brusque. LeeAnn hadn’t realized how accustomed she had grown to his easy smile, his relaxed strength. Now, though, he looked furious, every line of his body tight and angry. She couldn’t see his eyes, covered as they were by dark sunglasses.

  He looks almost frightening.

  But some part of her still knew that no matter how infuriated he might be, he would never hurt her.

  Another part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, to soothe that anger away.

  Instead, she folded her hands in front of her and breathed in and out before finally speaking. “I wanted you to know that the mineral rights are going to Sami and Bev. I won’t be fighting it. In fact, I’m meeting with Sami’s boss tomorrow—he’s a lawyer—to sign some sort of paperwork saying I agree that they own the rights.” She worked to keep the hitch in her throat out of her voice, to sound calm and smooth rather than ragged and exhausted.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” His own voice was detached and distant.

  “So you didn’t have to steal the letter from me.” Her comment caused his head to jerk around so that he was staring directly at her.

  “I didn’t—” he began, but LeeAnn kept talking, right over him.

  “So you can just take your sneaky romancing-the-stone bullshit and your charming dimples and your manipulative job offers and shove…”

  Feeling her blood pressure beginning to rise, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Somehow, talking to Jonah wasn’t turning out any better than not talking to Darrell had.

  “You know what? Never mind,” she said. As she prepared to reach behind her to open the car do
or, she realized that she had unconsciously pulled one foot up against the other in a balancing pose.

  Balance. Sometimes my body knows what I need better than my mind.

  And she would certainly be better able to find more equilibrium in her life without Jonah around to send her emotions heaving, first in one direction and then another.

  “Good-bye,” she said as she dropped her foot to the ground and took a step backward.

  “Wait,” Jonah said. “We’re not finished here.”

  …

  Dammit all to hell. She’s doing anxiety yoga again.

  Jonah found himself wanting to lash out at the person making her feel awful. But of course, that person was him.

  It’s not my fault that her flaky yoga shit kept me from finding out who the mineral rights belonged to any sooner.

  He shook his head. None of that mattered now. Fishing the envelope out of his back pocket, he thrust it toward LeeAnn.

  “This is yours.” She took it but watched him carefully, as if he might strike out at any moment, never even looking down to see what he had handed her.

  They stared at one another in silence, and Jonah could almost imagine that he saw pain in the depths of her gray eyes.

  “The company will also pay for right-of-way access,” he finally bit out, unable to keep from trying to help her, even now, when all obligations had ended.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll keep that in mind. Is that it?”

  His voice dropped. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  Without another word, she opened her car door and got in. Jonah didn’t even think about it—he simply reached out to stop her from closing it. She stared straight ahead, hands grasping the steering wheel in front of her.

  Leaning into the driver’s side, he said, “Actually, there is one more thing, LeeAnn. I think you should try to remember that people are the most important part of your world. You really are doing the right thing. People are more important than land. More important than principles. More important than anything.”

  At that, she finally turned to look at him, the lines of her face hard and unyielding. “More important than money, Jonah? More important than control? Than getting ahead?” The final words were injected with a sneer.

  When she grabbed the door handle and pulled it from his grasp, Jonah let it go to slam closed and watched as the silver Prius pulled out of the parking lot and drove out of sight.

  It’s better this way. I don’t need to get mixed up with someone like that. She’s not right for me.

  If only he truly believed it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Twelve days. That’s how long it had been since he had watched LeeAnn drive away.

  He had considered calling a couple of times, but then he reminded himself that his work with her was finished.

  He had reached his goal.

  The promotion was his.

  His life could start moving forward again.

  That should have made him happy—he had done exactly the job that the company had hired him to do, and everyone was getting what they wanted.

  Everyone except LeeAnn.

  He shook off the thought. LeeAnn had wanted to find something in the attics to help out her cousins. The drilling lease was going to do exactly that.

  The fact that she didn’t know she had left the letter about the mineral rights on her nightstand proved, without a doubt, that she was a flaky neo-hippie without enough sense to pay attention to things in the real world.

  And handing over the mineral rights to her cousins showed that she really did care about her family more than her stupid principles.

  Right?

  Or does she just know when she has a losing hand?

  For some reason, the thought of her simply giving up made his chest ache. As angry as he had been when he found the letter, he almost wanted her to keep fighting.

  In any case, Jonah had closed out the paperwork, and a new project took him out to Amarillo for a few days while Nathan worked on pushing his promotion through the system. Another few weeks, and he would be senior landman.

  He was glad to get out of town.

  Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

  The new job was a straightforward records search. A trip to the county clerk’s office had yielded the information he needed, and the landowner—a cattle rancher whose herd had been wiped out by a drought a few years ago—had been happy to sign the oil lease.

  Amarillo had been a breeze.

  No beautiful, amazingly flexible blonde with a nervous-yoga habit had tried to distract him from doing his job in Amarillo.

  Because surely that’s why LeeAnn had sex with him—to keep him off balance, to keep him from finding the information he needed.

  And it had worked, too.

  I’m still unbalanced, dammit.

  He couldn’t quit thinking about her. That was part of why he was right back in Fort Worth. Ostensibly, it was to have LeeAnn sign the right-of-way waiver that would allow the survey trucks onto her ranch. Sami and Bev were having their attorney look over their drilling rights lease before they signed it—something he always suggested. If all went well, the surveyors would finish their work about the time the final papers were filed, and then the real business of drilling could begin.

  For the first time since he had become a landman, the prospect didn’t thrill him.

  Instead, all he could think of was the frown on LeeAnn’s face when she told him good-bye the last day.

  So here he was, walking from his hotel to the TexZen Yoga Studio, when he could have just as easily mailed the right-of-way papers. As he turned the corner, he caught a glimpse of a blond ponytail swinging as its owner pulled open the door to the Wagon Wheel and walked in.

  “LeeAnn?” he called, quickening his step. The woman didn’t hear him.

  That damn diner. Every time he thought of it, he remembered kissing LeeAnn. He slowed as he came even with the windows, trying to peer in. A single ray of fading sunlight glanced off the window, though, reflecting only his own image back at him.

  He stepped inside, blinking to adjust to the lower light.

  There, in the same booth where he had hauled her into his lap to kiss her, LeeAnn sat, leaning forward, apparently speaking to someone. Jonah’s view of her dinner partner was momentarily blocked by the hostess.

  “For one?” she asked.

  He peered around her, going totally still when he saw who it was LeeAnn was talking to so intently.

  Darrell Vincent.

  The bastard who had left her for another woman.

  Seriously?

  She tilted her head and half smiled at something the other man said. Jonah’s hands curled into fists at his side, and he fought down the urge to stride over and knock the asshole unconscious.

  He took a deep breath, unclenching his fists and forcing himself to focus on the waitress.

  “No, thanks,” he said and left the restaurant, heading back toward his hotel.

  LeeAnn was no good for him, anyway. She was unreliable. Undependable. And she had tried to distract him from his job with sex.

  The best sex of your life, a tiny voice inside him whispered. He ignored it, instead focusing on what mattered: that her love life was none of his business.

  But a deep ache where his heart should be suggested otherwise.

  …

  Sunlight flashed from the diner door as it closed. LeeAnn glanced toward it, then did a swift double take.

  Was that Jonah, leaving?

  Darrell reached out across the table and tried to touch her fingers. She drew her hand back down, into her lap, and leaned back against the red leather cushion of the booth. Apparently laughing in his face and telling him to go away when he sat down to apologize hadn’t been enough to make him leave.

  His dark brown eyes widened a bit, and he gazed at her imploringly. “I really mean it.”

  This was the same tactic he had used throughout their entire relationship: do something stupid, then lo
ok miserable enough to convince her to take pity on him.

  For once, she wasn’t falling for it. In fact, she was a little surprised to discover that she didn’t care at all.

  “Great,” she said, her tone abstracted as she tried to peer out the window. “You had a lot to be sorry for.”

  “I made a terrible mistake. But I know that now, and I want you back,” Darrell said, breaking through her distraction. “I miss you.” He slid both arms across the table, stretching out as if to take her into his arms.

  Shying back even farther, she began scooting out of the booth seat. “You are insane.” As she stood up, she began digging in her purse, finally tossing a twenty-dollar bill down onto the table. “You’re an ass-hat, Darrell.” She laughed again, just a little.

  His mouth fell open in shock. “What did you say to me?”

  “I said, you’re an ass-hat. There is nothing you could ever say that would make me want to take you back.” She took two steps toward the door, then turned back to face him again. “Your fiancée broke it off, didn’t she?”

  “Yes.” Darrell’s nostrils flared as he stared at the floor.

  LeeAnn laughed yet again, louder this time, and shrugged. “Well, it’s no better than you deserve.” She waved over her shoulder as she headed out of the restaurant, but she didn’t look back.

  Out on the sidewalk, she peered left and then right. Had that really been Jonah she had seen leaving the restaurant? Or a figment of her overactive imagination, giving her a glimpse of the man she would rather have sitting at her table and apologizing?

  Either way, she saw no one on the sidewalk.

  With a sigh, she hiked her purse up over her shoulder and began walking back toward the studio, where she had left her car.

  Oh, well. Things could be worse.

  She could have accepted Darrell’s apology, for example.

  She snorted in quiet laughter.

  No. I could never accept Darrell—or anyone like him—again.

  Though to be honest, she would have expected to get more satisfaction out of Darrell’s misery. It was hard to stay too angry at someone she cared about so very little. Jonah, on the other hand? She was still furious with him for picking up and leaving town without saying another word to her.