The Cowgirl Rides Away (Bluebonnet Texas Book 1)

by Stuart, Amie

  I felt wanted.

  "Some days I regret it more than anything." I reached up and stroked his goatee and he smiled down at me and kissed my fingers. Then he leaned down and kissed me, his lips gentle on mine, and very thorough.

  I relaxed against him and moaned into his mouth as he pulled me into his arms and tightened his hold on me. His tongue stroked and probed and I followed his lead. With a soft moan, he dug deeper. His free hand stroked my back, eventually finding bare skin. I cursed my leg that kept me from moving as much as I wanted but finally managed to get my arms around his neck and pull his hair free of the rubber band. He groaned in protest and tried to catch my hand but it was too late. My fingers were buried in thick, baby-fine hair and I pulled him closer, wanting him to kiss me again, wanting us to not stop.

  We both finally came up for air with a soft laugh. "You have the softest hair," I said, unable to hold back a smile.

  Zack continued to watch me, his expression thoughtful as one hand skimmed down my back to my waist. "You have the softest skin," he whispered.

  I could have died a happy woman right there. Again I was worried if I moved he'd stop and I damn sure didn't want him to, painkillers or no. I eased onto my back and pulled him with me. His knuckles skimmed my belly and I pushed the sheet out of the way. But I didn't quite know how to tell him to go lower and after a few more minutes it was over. Zack had to get home to his son, and me, well, I had to catch my breath.

  Worn out by my trip, all the walking I'd done and an overload of unfamiliar emotion, I dozed off after Zack left—until the phone woke me. My grumpiness disappeared at the sight of Kane's number on the caller ID.

  "Hey!"

  "You napping?"

  "Yeah, sort of, but it's okay." I sat up and pushed my hair off my face. "How are you? How's it going there?"

  He sighed. "Okay. Things have been pretty crazy. I'm really sorry about the other day." His quietness, his tone of voice worried me. Kane wasn't the most talkative man in the world but this was different.

  "Don't be. I…didn't realize you were so close to your grandmother though."

  "She was ornery." He laughed. "Kinda like you, I guess."

  "I'm not sure how I like being compared to an old woman."

  He chuckled again, sounding a little more like his old self. "I uh, I should be leaving here in a day or so. Figured I'd come relieve Jace and we could catch up."

  I silently began to panic, hurriedly trying to figure out what to tell him.

  "Or you could meet me at the coast if you're up for it. I could use some downtime."

  "I…maybe." I could be there in five hours, but how did I tell him that?

  He sighed heavily, then finally said, "We really need to talk, Jessalyn."

  His sigh, followed by more silence, brought me up short. It scared me. Kane and Jace were the two most important people in my life. I'd run Jace off—even if he did forgive me. If anything happened to Kane… "Please tell me you're not sick or something."

  "I'll be at your place in a few days."

  "I'm not there. Jace isn't either. And you're scaring me, John. So please—"

  "Where are you?" Now he sounded interested.

  "Texas. Just outside of San Antonio."

  "Do I even want to know what you're doing so far from home all by yourself?"

  "No."

  "Then I'll see you tomorrow."

  "I think you should tell me now. Otherwise I won't sleep." I waited for some sort of reply, dread pooling in my gut. He was quiet for so long I thought maybe the call had been dropped. "Kane? John? If it's about my dad—"

  "It's about your mom."

  "My mom?" I froze, then frowned and sat up a little straighter. My mom had died the night I was born. Kane and I hadn't talked about her much because I didn't know much about her. Matter of fact, the last time my father and I had talked about her, I was fifteen and had broken my arm at a rodeo. He'd tucked me in bed and made me soup. I'd asked him if he loved her like he loved Marlene, my step-mother. His only reply had been that he'd loved her differently. I could tell it bothered him so I'd never had the guts to ask him about her again. But what did any of this have to do with Kane? "What about her? What about my mom?"

  "Her, uh, her grandmother died," he softly choked out.

  "What," I breathed. Everything went black for a few brief seconds as I sat there clutching the phone and trying to process exactly what his words meant. "You mean, your grandmother, don't you Kane?"

  "She was our grandmother, yeah. Mine and your mother's."

  I wanted to throw up, as the implication of it all hit me. "And you didn't…didn't think to…"

  "That's why I wanted to do this in person; it's not right telling you over the phone. You were doing all that PT, you'd already been through so much with your injuries—"

  "Fuck my injuries! All this time…" All this time he knew things. Things I might not have talked about but things he knew I wanted to know. Things I'd never been able to ask anyone. Things I had a right to know.

  "This ain't easy, girl! Okay?"

  "And what? You want me to feel sorry for you? You never thought to tell me that we're related, that my great-grandmother was alive or sick or anything? You never thought I might want to see her? To say goodbye to her, let alone hello? To know her? Or my family? My cousins?" By this time I was practically screaming, and more than a little hysterical. "Except, hey, I guess, you're my cousin, huh?"

  "Jessa, please. I was afraid you'd tell your father and then I wouldn't be able to see you anymore. So I kept my mouth shut. Figured it was just easier that way. That's the honest to goodness truth, Jessalyn."

  "The truth," I echoed, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked like my head was going to explode any second. I bit my lip to stop myself from crying, and just tried to take it all in because honestly, it was too much. For my head. For my soul. "Fuck you!"

  "I'm sorry."

  "Well, I guess there's that."

  "Granny made me promise. I wanted to tell you, but she wouldn't let me. I'm sorry, Jessalyn. I'm—"

  I hung up, slowly sank down on the edge of the bed then laid back and stared at the ceiling while I tried to not choke to death on my heart. I guess Zack was right.

  Everybody lies.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zack

  Zack was late. That little interlude on Jessa's bed had really put him behind. He'd no more than picked Travis up off his parent's living room floor when his mother started yelling for him.

  "Zachary Kendall Boudreaux, come in here!" Her sharp tone made him wince—and didn't leave any room for argument.

  With a sigh, he set Travis back down. "Be right back, buddy."

  The use of his full name combined with the suddenly smug look on his niece's face spoke volumes.

  "Yes, ma'am." He was busted. Seriously busted. Somehow, his mother had found out about Jessa. He'd hoped for a day, at least, maybe two, especially after her lunchtime revelation.

  He slowly crossed to the kitchen doorway, wincing again as his boots seemed to reverberate on the hardwood floor. His face felt hot and he blew out a long, heavy breath, preparing himself for the worst. These days it seemed like every interaction with his mother was 'the worst'. He pushed open the swinging door to find her standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed, a scowl on her face.

  "Who is she?"

  Zack cringed at her loud, ugly tone, the one normally reserved for his dad—or sometimes Tim. He was indeed in a world of hurt and hated like hell that Travis and Rene could hear her. "I told you I was going to lunch."

  He stepped a little closer, concerned at her wild-eyed, untidy appearance. He hadn't seen her this wound up since he'd brought Travis home.

  "You failed to mention it was with a woman." Her shrill voice made him want to shove his fingers in his ears. "A strange woman!"

  "The last time I checked, I was a grown man," he quietly insisted. Hopefully if he kept calm and kept his voice down, she'd follow suit.
r />   "Don't smart-mouth me, Zachary!" Her voice dropped in volume but her fierce expression never changed.

  Footsteps sounded on the back porch and his dad came barreling into the kitchen. "What's going on? Margaret? I heard you yelling halfway across the yard."

  "Zack met some woman at the hotel." His mother crossed her arms, lips set in a grim line.

  "It was just lunch," he calmly insisted again. She made it sound like he'd committed armed robbery. "We went to lunch. She's not a hooker. We didn't have sex."

  "There. See. It was lunch." He threw up his hands, equal measures of exasperation and worry on his face. "Now why are you yelling?"

  "Oh, Jerrod! Leave it to you to miss the point!" She brushed him off with a wave of her hand then turned her attention back to Zack, "Who is she? And why is she staying at the Bluebonnet Inn?"

  "Have you completely turned the corner, woman? It was lunch! How the hell did you even find out he went out with a woman?" Jerrod demanded, wedging himself between them. He blocked Zack's view, temporarily giving him a chance to catch his breath.

  "Dollie Lovejoy. Her oldest works at the hotel. Now everyone in town knows Zack picked up a strange woman—"

  "Ah, I see. I see," Jerrod interrupted.

  Zack's face burned; his grip on the counter tightened. He had little love for his mother's gossiping church crowd. Or her hang-ups. That said, he did his best to keep the peace by not feeding the gossip mill. He'd known this was unavoidable, but hadn't thought it would be quite this bad.

  "Momma, please—" he began.

  "Just answer the questions, young man," she ordered, shouldering past his dad. "Who is she? Where did she come from? Is she—"

  "Margaret, that is enough! If that boy wants to go to lunch with a woman, it's his business."

  "Fine. Let him ruin his life again. See if I care." His mother slowly shook her head, uncaring when a pin slipped free and fell to the floor. "My God, he's just like you, Jerrod. Just like you. Careless, thoughtless, selfish." In a low, angry voice she added, "Don't even think you can come cry on my shoulder like you did when that whore dumped Travis on you."

  All the color drained from Zack's face and his stomach churned as he stared openmouthed at his mother, at a complete loss for words because he couldn't think of anything even remotely close to respectful to say. He didn't want his niece or especially his son to hear that, not from him. Finally, he sputtered, "I never cried on your shoulder."

  "Zack," his father murmured, "Take the kids and leave." Jerrod stared down at Maggie, both of them red-faced and scowling at each other.

  Jesus, what the hell had happened to his mother?

  Zack quickly did as he was told, shushing his niece on the short ride to his house every time she tried to ask questions. Thirty minutes later, his dad found them all in the den watching television together. "Everything okay?"

  "Yeah, everything's fine. Rene—" Jerrod turned to his granddaughter, "—it's time for you to head on home."

  "Poppy," she whined, dragging out each syllable.

  "Don't argue with me, young lady." His spoke softly but gave her shoulder a little nudge.

  Rene knew better than to push her granddad; she stood and quickly made her exit. The two men retreated to the kitchen, leaving Travis stretched out on the couch with a ragged, stuffed cat.

  "I'm sorry she did that to you," his dad said.

  "It's not your fault, so please don't apologize for her. I didn't mean to set her off. I shouldn't have been late. That's on me. I know how mom is."

  "Your mother wouldn't be that way at all if it wasn't for me," Jerrod sighed.

  "That's not true." Shaking his head, Zack paused at the refrigerator door, tea pitcher in hand. "You're good to Momma. Obviously something's up with her and I don't know what it is, but all that crap about Dollie and, you know, her church ladies and crap, that's Momma. She chose that. She cares about that. I try to oblige her but… Dad, nothing happened. It was just lunch, for cryin' out loud."

  His dad nodded. "I know you do. We all do. And I get that it was just lunch. You hide her, it'll be worse. You understand? More fuel for the fire and all that." Jerrod shook his head, obviously ready to drop the subject. "So tell me about her. Who is she?"

  Zack smiled and then grimaced a bit, his face heating up under his tan, while a part of him wondered how much to say and how his dad would react. "Jessa. Her name's Jessa and we met on the internet."

  He poured them both some iced tea then sat, explaining about the personal ad but omitting the lie she'd told, a part of him feeling like he was back in high school again.

  His dad set down his glass, his face marred by a confused frown. "She's willing...to move? If this all works out?"

  "I know it must seem strange—" he stammered.

  Jerrod held up a hand. "You have no idea, but long as everything works out, as long as you're careful and you're happy, I suppose," he added with a chuckle, "it's not that different than your great-grandmother comin' over from Ireland to marry a man she didn't know. I'll deal with your mother—somehow. You just be sure and bring your young lady to the cookout on Sunday, so I can give her my seal of approval. No hiding her."

  "Do I have to?" He wasn't ready to share Jessa, and he also wasn't ready to subject her to his family, especially after what had happened earlier with his mother. How the hell did you prepare someone for that?

  "Yes, you most certainly do." His dad's raised eyebrows left no room for argument.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jessa

  For my Thursday lunch with Zack I went with the khaki capris and a form-fitting, lavender button-up blouse picked up on my shopping trip. It looked fine, cute even, but I still felt off-kilter after a restless night spent trying to process Kane's revelations. In a way, I suppose it was symbolic. These two parts of me that didn't quite mesh.

  I'd even considered cancelling today's lunch, but then I'd be stuck in a hotel room moping. I could barely process it all. My best friend, my traveling companion—my cousin.

  I wanted to go home. I wanted my dad. Which somehow led me back around to yesterday's conversation with Kane.

  "You're frowning," Zack said as he pulled into the crowded parking lot of a Mexican restaurant.

  Startled and more than a little embarrassed at where my train of thought had been going, I burst out laughing. It was either that or cry and I wasn't about to confide in Zack. He'd rubber stamp me 'crazy' and I'd never see him again.

  "What was that for? Jessa?"

  "What?" My smile faded at the serious expression on his face.

  "Are you having second thoughts? About being here with me?"

  I'd worry about Kane later. I could do this, with Zack. At least, I hoped I could. I slid across the seat until we were thigh to thigh, all the while scrambling around in my head for the right words. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, so I forced myself to look at him and keep it simple. "T-there's no other place I'd rather be right now than here with you. I thought you knew that."

  And that, at least, was the God's honest truth. His face softened, but my confession was interrupted by a knock on his window. Thank heaven for small favors. No telling what else I might have said. Like "I love you" or "let's make babies."

  Zack muttered a "Great," as he slipped the keys from the ignition.

  "What's wrong?" I leaned forward, surprised to find a laughing blonde couple outside his truck. The humorous expression on the woman's face was replaced with raised eyebrows.

  "Say hello to my aunt," he said while opening the door. We slid out and he performed the introductions.

  He slid his keys into his pocket, cleared his throat and added, "Rowdy and I play at the dancehall that my aunt owns."

  "Honey, it is so nice to meet you," Susie Boudreaux, the aforementioned aunt, gushed. She looked incredibly smug as she squeezed my hand.

  "It's very nice to meet you, too." I shook hands with her and Rowdy. No wonder he'd taken us to Gruene yesterday—privacy. Thank goodness
he had since I'd spilled my soul all over the place, but today, with my crappy cranky mood, public was definitely better.

  "Zack, honey, what are you doing?"

  "Having lunch, and you?" His flip reply left Susie blinking and Rowdy snickering. His one quirked eyebrow left me giggling, especially after that solemn moment we'd just had in the truck.

  "Stop looking at me like that. I'm a grown woman, Zack Boudreaux, and if I wanna have lunch with one of our local bad-boys I will." Susie slipped an arm around Rowdy's waist. "Now, did you invite this nice young lady to the cookout on Sunday?"

  Oh my God! Sunday supper with...His aunt shrugged and gave me a tiny smile. I guess she caught my slack-jawed look. And Zack had gone awful quiet, while my insides quaked the tiniest bit.

  "I haven't had a chance to...yet."

  "So what's the holdup?" Rowdy asked.

  Despite my nerves, I bit back a tiny laugh of my own. Talk about aiding and abetting.

  "You have to come and meet the brood," Susie said. That woman's smile was brighter than the headlights on my truck. It was impossible to not like her, to not feel drawn to her.

  "We'll see," I murmured, sneaking a look at Zack.

  "I already promised Dad I'd invite her, now relax."

  He did?

  "Good!" The expression on her face as she kissed his cheek could only be called satisfied. "I'll look forward to seeing you on Sunday then."

  After they walked away, Zack led me toward the entrance to Carmen's Hacienda, full of apologies. "She um, I love her to death but she can be a force to be reckoned with," he finished with a laugh.

  "I can see that, but she seems pretty wonderful, too. But I'm not sure about Sunday, Zack. It's a bit much."

  "Dad insisted I invite you. That doesn't mean you have to say yes." He held the door for me and I stepped inside, immediately distracted by the distinctively spicy scent of Mexican food and the noisy lunchtime crowd.

  "Looks like the whole town came out for lunch."

  "Yeah," Zack sighed, leading me toward a smiling black-haired woman who immediately pulled out two menus and accepted his kiss on the cheek. Carmen herself.