Dare To Love A Cowboy (Canton County Cowboys 2)

by Charlene Bright

  Her heart leapt. He had never once come to visit her in her room. “How are you?” she asked as he sat down at the corner of her bed. She took a good look at him, taking in everything from his tense muscles, to the frown that seemed to have been permanently etched into his facial features.

  He just sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  She nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

  He placed his palm against her cheek. “Tell me.”

  As she stared into his eyes, sagging with sheer fatigue, yet sharp with emotion, she felt as if she could understand him right down to his soul. And, what’s more, that he could see right into hers. She could feel herself inside him, and him inside her.

  “It was sudden,” she said softly, “and it wasn’t. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I think so,” he nearly whispered.

  “Because I was so young, they thought they were protecting me by not telling me the truth, or not all of it anyway.”

  He nodded.

  “So by the time they told me everything, it was too late. She died three days after they told me just how sick she was, how she wasn’t going to get better.” Tears flooded her eyes and choked her throat.

  By the time he kissed her, she had realized that this man was more than someone she had met six weeks ago on a ranch in the middle of Texas. He was the thing in the back of her mind; that wish she could never acknowledge; that human she had waited her entire life to finally meet. She was falling in love with him . . . as much as that scared her. She wanted to love him. She wanted him to love her.

  He drew away from her far too soon, but the eyes that met her after the kiss seemed much more relaxed than the ones before. A slight smile hung on his lips. “Arlo wants to meet you.”

  She furrowed her brow. “But he already has,” she replied, referring to the time that Aunt Jana had dragged her into his room for a quick peek. As soon as those words left her lips, a more pressing thought followed. “Why does he suddenly want to meet me?” she asked.

  Everett’s lips folded into a crooked smile as he raised her hands to his lips, planting a kiss on the back of her hand. “Because I told him I was falling for you.”

  Her eyes widened, and she had to physically restrain herself from jumping for joy.

  ***

  Everett cut his engine at the top of a hill, once again mentally thanking his truck for getting him across the bumpy terrain that was best traveled by the sure hooves of a horse, but Arlo was no longer strong enough to sit atop a horse, let alone ride it through the challenging range. He glanced over at Paige, who sat in the passenger seat, her fair skin glowing in the moonlight of the full moon and her blond hair falling over her bare shoulders like liquid gold. He nodded toward her and climbed out of the truck. “We’re here.”

  He opened the back door and gestured for Arlo to reach out to him. Paige was by his side in the next second and assisting him in lifting Arlo out of the truck. Once his feet touched the dirt, he gave Everett’s shoulder a squeeze, then pushed himself away from him. In that short moment, those first few steps that he took all on his own, Everett could see the healthy middle-aged man who had shown him how to ride a horse, how to brand a calf . . . how to run a ranch. He shuddered at this thought, the idea that he would have to keep those memories alive on his own, because the only other person who had ever really experienced them was going to be dead soon.

  Arlo grunted. “Now that’s a moon,” he croaked as he tipped his head back to the sky.

  Paige and Everett followed his lead. He was right; a full moon was one of those sights most people never took the time to truly appreciate. There was a bittersweetness about the fact that this would be Arlo’s last.

  “Ms. Prescott.” Weakly, he shifted his gaze to Paige, who had also been staring up at the moon, wonder brightening her eyes.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Have you ever seen a view like this?” he asked, gesturing with his frail hands at the land all around them.

  She followed his sweeping gaze and shook her head. “No, no I haven’t,” she whispered.

  “Well . . .” With tentative steps, he crossed in front of Everett and offered his arm to Paige.

  Her eyes twinkled and she let out a soft giggle. He led her up what was left of the hill.

  Everett followed them, mumbling, “Don’t steal my girlfriend.” It wasn’t until the word had slipped out of his mouth that he realized that he had never used it before. He tried to keep a straight face when she turned around, flashing him a surprised gaze that, thankfully, did not look a fraction of how horrified as he felt.

  Arlo only let this tension last for a short moment, before he spoke again, “I don’t have to steal her my friend. She’s already swooning,” he joked

  She giggled, and Everett chuckled in spite of himself.

  “Now, this was the only place I liked coming to when I was boy,” Arlo explained as they reached the top of the hill. She helped him sit down. “It’s the only place on the whole ranch where you can’t see fences, or animals, or that monstrosity of a house.”

  Paige and Everett burst into laughter. “Oh my God, Arlo!” she gasped. “That’s your house!” He shrugged, no more than a faint movement of his shoulder. “Not really. Not anymore,” he replied. “I live there, but I have no idea what it’s like anymore.”

  Everett sucked in a deep breath, taking in generous amounts of the crisp air.

  Arlo whispered with painful sadness. “This is the first time I’ve been out of that room of mine in almost a year.”

  Everett nodded. “But that house is more yours than it is any of ours. I can feel you in the floorboards.”

  Arlo looked at him, an intense gaze in his eye, as he placed a comforting, yet trembling hand on his shoulder. “You should remember that.”

  Something like a knife cut through Everett’s stomach. A part of him knew that this would be coming, that it would make sense for him to refer to his death, because it was fast approaching, but that, by no means, meant he had to accept it. “Don’t—” he started, but Paige interrupted him.

  “That house will always be yours, no matter what happens to it.” She fearlessly wrapped an arm around Arlo’s shoulder.

  Everett marveled at the fact that she never seemed hesitant about anything but was always sure of herself. “What will happen to it?” he asked, the question impulsively slipping out of his lips.

  Paige threw him a look that indicated that she must have thought it obvious, but Arlo responded before she could chastise him.

  He cocked his head to one side. “Nothing. That’s the beauty of it. The world will turn. The land will change, but that manor and this ranch will always be as it is.”

  Back at the house, Paige said her goodbyes to Arlo and Everett from Arlo’s bedside and went to bed. Everett started to turn out the table light, but Arlo stopped his hand. “Son, I need you to do something for me . . .”

  ***

  Jana watched out the window from her darkened room as Everett’s truck lights appeared over the hill and shut off after the truck was brought to a stop. She watched Everett and Paige exit the truck and then Everett lift a frail Arlo from the back of the cab and carry him to the porch.

  She waited until she heard them enter Arlo’s room and listened as Paige said goodnight and went back downstairs. She cracked her door and waited. Everett quietly stepped out of Arlo’s room and shut the door. He stood there for a minute, just looking at the closed door. He turned around to walk down the hall, and Jana called out to him. “Everett, a word, please?”

  He stopped and looked at her. She opened her door wider, and he scoffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not coming into your room, Aunt Jana.”

  She laughed, stepped forward, and reached her palm to his face. Her smile faltered as she looked into his eyes and whispered, as if to herself. “His eyes.” She pulled back and said “Of course not, dear. Let’s go down to the kitchen for some apple pie.” She lifted her robe slightly off the
ground and brushed by him.

  He shook his head and followed.

  He sat on a barstool while she placed a slice of pie in front of him.

  “Now tell me,” she said, taking a bite. “Whatever were you doing taking a sick man on his deathbed out of the house.”

  “What does it matter? An old man wanted to see his ranch one last time.”

  “Mmm, hmmm.” She sighed. “And I supposed he talked to you about his wishes?”

  Everett finished his pie and pushed the empty plate to her. “What a dying man and I did or didn’t talk about in one of our last conversations is not of your concern.”

  “Oh?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Good night, Aunt Jana.” He rose and left the room leaving Aunt Jana to finish her pie in silence.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Everett was thinking about the pending thunderstorm when he and Paige stepped into Arlo’s room. His breath was shallow as he reached out his hand to Everett and beckoned him closer. Everett drew next to him and took his hand. “Grandpa, don’t try to talk. Just rest.”

  Arlo shook his head and swallowed. “My suit,” he croaked. “Where’s my gray suit?”

  “What?” asked Everett. “I don’t know what . . .”

  Arlo tutted, shook his head, and looked at Paige. “Darla,” he said to her. “The gray suit. You know the one.”

  Paige looked at Everett, who shrugged and waved his hand to call her over. “Darla was his wife,” he whispered.

  Paige nodded and crouched next to Arlo’s face. “I know the one,” she said softly.

  Arlo nodded slowly, his eyes distant. “We’ll be late for the funeral.”

  “What funeral, Grandpa?” Everett squeezed his hand.

  “Poppa’s,” he said and closed his eyes, falling into a deep, restless slumber.

  Paige put her arm around Everett and they stood and quietly left the room. She led him to the porch.

  The chain holding the wooden swing to the ceiling creaked as they sat down. Everett leaned forward to put his face in his hands. Paige put her hand on his back, rubbing very gently.

  He sat up and looked at her. In a low voice, he said, “Paige, Arlo told me something the night we took him out on the ranch, after you had gone to bed.”

  She nodded slightly to acknowledge the event to which he referred.

  “He said he was worried about something and he didn’t want me to worry in case he was wrong, but last year when he first learned how sick he was, he decided to revisit his will. He said he may be overly cautious but he didn’t only give a copy to his lawyer—that’s Ian’s dad, well, he’s pretty much the only estate lawyer within a hundred miles. Anyway, he made a copy and had Preacher Ralph witness it and take the copy with him for safekeeping.”

  Paige kept quiet, watching his eyes closely.

  “He said that I should reach out to Preacher Ralph and get that copy and that if anything seemed wrong when his will was executed, that I should compare my copy to it.”

  When he remained silent, Paige asked, “What does he think is going to happen?”

  “He wouldn’t . . . couldn’t elaborate.” He shook his head and turned away from Paige. “Maybe it’s nothing, but this could be his last request of me. I’m going to go see Preacher Ralph this afternoon.”

  ***

  Everett sat alone in the dark in Arlo’s room watching through the window as the lightening erupted a few miles away followed a few seconds later by the crackle of thunder. Droplets of rain had begun to tap intermittently on the windows. The storm would be on top of them very soon now. Every so often, Arlo would stop breathing for a few seconds and Everett would walk over to him, holding his breath until he could see the slight rise of his chest and hear him draw in a slow, rattling breath. He knew Arlo would not wake again.

  Another flash of lightening and Aunt Jana opened the door. She put a foot into the room and then hesitated for a minute. Had Everett not been intent upon watching Arlo—waiting—he would have wondered at the uncharacteristic response from the strong-willed woman.

  After a couple of breaths, she walked over to Arlo’s other side and touched his arm. Everett was focused on Arlo’s chest and did not see Jana quickly wipe away a tear. She took a deep breath and said, “I’ll call the doctor.”

  Everett nodded but did not look at her.

  She left the room.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, holding Arlo’s hand in his. “Arlo . . . Grandpa,” he began. “I want you to know that I am grateful to you for giving me a home . . . a family. I don’t know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t brought me to this ranch. You know I don’t like to dredge up the past and I don’t talk about my feelings.” He chuckled. “Of course you know that. You’re the one who taught me to be tough. You kept me from being alone, and I’ve been struggling with believin’ that when you leave, I’ll be alone again. But now . . . now, there’s someone who might be the one to make sure I’m not alone. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was something you somehow arranged.” His eyes glistened.

  “I know you loved me like I was your own,” he continued. “Thank you.” He squeezed Arlo’s hand and stood, watching Arlo’s chest continue to move slowly, without rhythm.

  ***

  The doctor arrived nearly an hour later. Everett and Paige were asleep in chairs near Arlo’s bed. The storm was now on top of Rock Creek Ranch, rain pelting every surface with force, lightning and thunder on top of each other. Dr. Caston walked quietly past them and set his bag down on the floor next to Arlo’s bed. Aunt Jana followed him in and stood at the foot of the bed.

  Everett’s eyes opened and he watched as Dr. Caston pulled out a stethoscope and listened to Arlo’s chest for what seemed like several minutes. Then, the doctor removed the instrument from his ears and looked up at Aunt Jana, slowly shaking his head. “He’s gone.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was still raining the morning after Arlo died. But the thunder and lightning had passed. Paige was standing in the kitchen, looking out the back door as the droplets dancing in puddles lulled her into a light trance. She thought about the morning after her mother’s death, when the numbness had made everything seem like she was walking in a dream. Everything felt just a little off center, almost right, but not quite. Like the world had shifted just a couple of inches, just enough that she knew something was off, but not enough that she could have articulated it.

  She wondered if Everett was feeling something similar. Or was it different for him because he was a different person, because his relationship with Arlo was different from hers with her mother, because this was Texas where everything looked and felt big, because he was a man, because he believed he wasn’t wanted?

  She clutched her steaming cup of coffee close to her lips but didn’t drink. She was completely at a loss for what she should do, how she should comfort him. And would he let her if she tried? Their relationship was still so new; there was so much guesswork. Was she his girlfriend? Should she sit with him at the funeral? Should she hold his hand? Should she be with him now even if he didn’t ask for her? Or did he need some space to find his own grief without someone pointing it out to him? Or does he even know what he needs or how to ask for it? She wished she knew.

  She was so lost in the rain that she didn’t hear Everett come into the room. He stepped up behind her and put his arms around her. She startled and then smiled contentedly. After a moment, she turned to him. She watched his face carefully for a sign, any sign, about how to help. She reached out and wiped away a tear, and he took her hand and kissed it. Then he took the coffee from her hand, set it on the counter, and led her to his room.

  ***

  A couple of hours later, she was sitting on his bed, wearing his shirt, while he lay on his side, propping his head up in one hand, while he reached the other hand out to squeeze her bottom playfully when she bent over to find her socks. She squealed and whirled around to hit him in the face with the sock she had discovered.
He laughed and took her arm, drawing her closer.

  A knock sounded at the door and Aunt Jana’s voice called through the wood. “Everett? I need your help, please. We’ve got to meet with the funeral director in an hour.” They heard her steps move away from the door.

  Everett sighed and rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling. “Do I have to do this? Can’t I stay in here . . .”—he looked at her out of the corner of his eye—“with you . . . for the next year?”

  Paige shook her head. “Doesn’t work like that. You have to walk through it all. Let’s get up and get dressed.”

  “Are you going to give me my shirt back?”

  “Nope,” she said.

  He sighed and got out of bed and walked to the closet.

  She watched him for a minute, enjoying the view. At last, she said “Everett?”

  He was pulling on a pair of jeans. “Mmm hmm?”

  “What did you find out from Preacher Ralph?”

  He zipped and buttoned the jeans and came to sit on the bed beside her. “Not much. I don’t know what has happened that made Arlo so paranoid about it, and neither did he.”

  “Did you get the copy of the will?”

  “No, but I did confirm its existence. I told him to keep it safe and I’d let him know if we needed him to bring it out. I’m not sure what Arlo was expecting to happen, but I’d bet my life that Aunt Jana has something to do with it. And if he felt the need to leave a copy with someone else, it seems like he thinks the lawyer may have something to do with it too. At the very least he didn’t trust Rick.” He noted her puzzled expression. “That’s the lawyer.” He reached down to pull on his boots. “And I can’t say that I blame him. Rick is Aunt Jana’s boyfriend . . . and Ian’s dad.”

  Paige’s eyes widened. “Do you think they’ve done something to Arlo’s final will?”

  He shrugged. “No idea. But I wouldn’t trust any of them as far as I can throw them.” He stood and reached his hand out to her, but she put his hand on top of his and pulled him back to the bed.