Not Just Another Cowboy (Silhouette Special Edition)

by Finch, Carol

  They lived their stolen moments without looking too far into the future. Now their affair was over and Chance was gone.

  Life went on, Alexa reminded herself realistically.

  Alexa switched on the blinker and hung a left turn in the truck. She had driven into town to show her ideas for advertising to the graphic-design specialist at the print shop. Before she could open her bed-and-breakfast for business, she needed publicity flyers, needed to spread the word that she was accepting reservations to her countrified retreat.

  Although her financial budget was already bursting at the seams, Alexa had placed several ads in area newspapers and called radio and TV stations to offer interviews and tours.

  The sooner she filled the rooms of the B-and-B, the sooner she could convince Howard that she was going to make a major contribution to ranch profits.

  One day he might actually thank her for it.

  If he ever got over being furious with her.

  Alexa shook herself loose from her dismal thoughts and climbed down from the truck. She had scores of errands to attend to this afternoon. Deb was bringing out the knickknacks and artwork to decorate the B-and-B after she closed up her craft shop for the evening. Truckloads of furniture were scheduled to arrive in three days. Alexa planned to have the place ready.

  Having delivered her proposals for posters, Alexa zoomed off. Twice, she caught herself wondering how Chance had fared during the first two go-rounds at Fort Worth. She hoped he didn’t sustain further injury. The man had been banged up enough to last a normal man a lifetime.

  But then, Chance Butler wasn’t a normal man, she reminded herself. If he was, he couldn’t have taken Alexa’s heart with him when he left Rocking T.

  “That kind of thinking will land you in a state of depression,” she lectured herself.

  For her own sake, for Zack’s sake, Alexa had to maintain a cheerful, positive attitude. Zack was suffering enough because of Chance’s absence in his life. Fortunately, Pecos Smith had given the boy a little attention now and then. The young cowboy had even asked after her, Alexa remembered.

  Her errands completed, Alexa swung by school to give Zack a ride home. Hoping to lift his glum mood, she treated him to an ice-cream cone and a trip to the park, and promised to play catch as soon as they arrived at the ranch.

  Lacking his usual enthusiasm, Zack moped outside with his glove in one hand, ball and bat in the other. Trying to distract him, Alexa questioned Zack about school while they warmed up their pitching arms. But nothing helped. The boy couldn’t get into the swing of things, even when Alexa repeated all the pointers Chance had given.

  “I’m not in the mood to play ball,” Zack mumbled. “It’s not the same without Chance.”

  Nothing was ever going to be the same again—without Chance—but Alexa didn’t have the heart to tell Zack so. “Chance would be disappointed if he knew you weren’t working on your fundamentals,” she tried to reason with him.

  “It wasn’t just playing ball, Mom. It was being with him, as if I had a dad.”

  Wide, doleful eyes lifted to her, and Alexa felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. “Oh, honey, I know it hurts right now, but we have to give ourselves time. We have to keep doing all the things we did before.”

  Zack dropped his mitt in the grass, then gave it an angry kick. “I don’t want to play anymore with you. I just want Chance back,” he wailed, then turned tail and dashed into the house.

  “I hope you’re happy.” Howard scowled at Alexa as he stepped around the side of the house. “Not only did you put my life in turmoil, but you let your son get attached to that worthless cowboy.”

  It was the first time Howard had spoken directly to her since the incident. She wished he hadn’t broken the silence. Alexa was feeling bad enough without Howard showing up to rub Zack’s misery in her face.

  The sound of an approaching vehicle drew Alexa’s attention. Leaving Howard to mutter that another Jezebel had arrived, Alexa strode off to greet her sister.

  Deb cast an expectant glance at Howard’s departing back. “How is the silent war going?”

  “He finally spoke,” she reported.

  “And had nothing nice to say, I’m sure,” Deb predicted.

  Alexa shrugged. “Howard is still in his pouting phase, but I’ve been on such good behavior that he’s had little to complain about,” she said as she scooped up a box of wooden crafts from the car seat. “He’s smart enough to know that if he boots me off the ranch his laundry will pile up and he’ll starve to death. I think the only reason he’s letting me stay is because he realizes he’d have to pay someone to do the things that I’ve been doing around here for free.”

  “Damn,” Deb grumbled. “I really screwed up your life when I insisted you date Butler.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Alexa contradicted. “I was the one who accepted the date, then came running to you for a makeover. I could have called it off. I knew there was the chance Howard might find out about it and take it badly. I hold myself personally accountable for everything that happened.”

  “Well, if you ask me, that weasel Butler should have stuck around,” Deb said bitterly. “The man disappointed me.”

  Alexa rounded on her sister. “I will not have you blaming him for this. I sent him away, insisted that he leave, even after he offered to stay.”

  Deb blinked, stunned. “You didn’t mention that before. Damn, sis, how many kinds of fool are you?”

  “Is this a multiple-choice question?” Alexa flung back.

  Deb was not to be put off. “Why did you send him away?”

  “Because he was already on his way out the door when the confrontation with Howard came up.” Alexa shouldered her way into the newly completed dining area. “I didn’t expect Chance to stay, just because Howard got his nose out of joint.”

  “Did you give Chance a helpful shove out the door?” Deb quizzed her. “Didn’t you think you deserved to be happy?”

  Alexa glared at her sister, then realized Deb saw a little deeper, a little clearer than Alexa preferred.

  Deb slammed the box of crafts down on the kitchen counter, planted her fists on her hips and squared off against her sister. “Lady, you are badly in need of an attitude adjustment. You deserve all the happiness, consideration and respect you can get.

  “Dan really did a job on you, didn’t he? When he cheated with every rodeo groupie that tucked her phone number in the front pocket of his tight-fitting jeans, you presumed that you weren’t doing something right at home and that was what caused him to stray.”

  “Pipe down,” Alexa whispered, glaring expectantly at the door. “Zack might come barreling in here any minute. I don’t want him to hear this.”

  “Fine, I’ll whisper.” She lowered her voice several decibels. “But you have to listen to me, Alexa. You are not second-rate, even if Dan left you with that impression. And maybe Butler really did want to hang around to work through the difficulties. Maybe he needed to know that you really wanted him here.”

  Alexa stared at the air over Deb’s head. “I told him I loved him, so it wasn’t as if he didn’t know how I felt.”

  “And what did he say?” Deb fired back at her.

  Alexa shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other beneath Deb’s piercing scrutiny. “I didn’t let him say anything.”

  “Why? Because you were afraid he wouldn’t be able to return the words?” Deb threw up her hands in exasperation. “Atta girl, sis. Keep the situation under your control. Don’t give the man a chance to speak his piece, just in case he wouldn’t say what you wanted to hear.

  “Honestly, Alexa, I never realized you were such a coward. You might have thrown away a chance at happiness, just because you were afraid Butler might not feel the way you do. What if he does?”

  Alexa wheeled away, carrying a box of small wooden shelves and the appropriate knickknacks to set on them.

  “Those thingamabobs don’t go over there,” Deb called out. “That wall is too long
for short shelves. I have a particular painting in mind for that spot.”

  Alexa whipped around. “Fine, you decorate the place. That isn’t my field of expertise anyway. I’m not even sure I have one. Obviously relationships are impossible for me to handle properly. I’ll go upstairs and hang the ceiling fan in the executive suite. That, I can do.”

  “Are you sure?” Deb taunted her unmercifully. “You couldn’t handle your first and only affair properly. You sent out mixed signals to the man, you know. You got your heart broke, though you’re putting up an admirable front for my benefit. But I can see right through you, Alexa, don’t think I can’t.”

  “Thanks for the support, sis. Makes me feel so much better that I want to jump for joy,” Alexa muttered sourly, then stalked up the steps.

  “Don’t electrocute yourself,” Deb called after her. “I have a date with the doctor tonight. I don’t want him hanging around the emergency room resuscitating you.”

  “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of spoiling your date,” Alexa threw over her shoulder, along with a scowl.

  Alexa grabbed the ladder that Chance had named Grace, then stalked down the hall. Deb’s words were still burning her ears as she retrieved the boxed ceiling fan.

  Had her fear of disappointment and rejection truly set off her defense mechanism? Alexa asked herself. Had she refused to let Chance speak because she wanted to protect herself from possible hurt? Had she refused to let Chance stay because she was afraid he would grow tired of her, just as Dan had? Or had she refused because she assumed Chance was willing—because of a sense of guilt—to hang around until she resolved the situation with Howard?

  More muddy water under the bridge, Alexa told herself as she toted Grace into the executive suite. She wouldn’t have to feel slighted by the man she loved if he wasn’t around to hurt her, now would she? She didn’t have to keep up pretenses for Howard’s benefit, either. She was safe in her world and her emotions didn’t have to suffer another round of abuse.

  She would make her mark on the world as a savvy businesswoman, maybe even win the award for Mother of the Year. And if she was very lucky, maybe Howard would eventually forgive her for betraying the memory of his son.

  Resolved to making the most of her situation, Alexa unpacked the ceiling fan and checked the colored strands of electrical wiring, just as Chester instructed her to do. Her mind buzzing with a dozen different thoughts, she set to work on the fan, trying desperately to ignore the ache that missing Chance left burning in her soul.

  Chance Butler didn’t drink, but he was definitely drunk. He was down in Fort Worth, on the run from himself, on the run from his emotions. He’d ordered cocktails the minute he boarded the plane in Tulsa and refused to let his glass go dry until he landed in Texas. Hell, Chance didn’t even remember riding in the first and second go-round at the rodeo. He could barely recall his first telephone conversation with Pecos Smith. All Chance remembered was that Howard hadn’t gone on a shooting spree at Rocking T. According to Pecos, Alexa and Zack were alive and well.

  Propped on his bed at the motel, Chance poured himself another drink of hooch. His head felt as if it were full of cobwebs, his mouth full of cotton, but he didn’t care. Sooner or later the whiskey would numb the ache in his chest. It had to. Sitting here alone with his soul, missing Alexa and Zack until hell wouldn’t have it, was driving him nuts.

  Chance felt like a damn coward, an irresponsible jerk. He should have stayed in Oklahoma, despite Alexa’s refusal to let him run interference for her. As for Howard, he could take a flying leap. The old goat was dictating Alexa’s life. And she let him, damn it! Chance should have stayed, should have stepped in to mediate the situation. He sure as hell wasn’t accomplishing anything in Texas, except getting himself rip-roaring drunk for the first time in his life.

  You should have told Alexa how you felt, even if she refused to listen, came the silent voice that had been nagging him for two endless days. Just because the words stuck in his throat, just because he’d never bared his heart to another living soul before, just because he felt as awkward, uncomfortable and exposed as if he’d dropped his jeans in the middle of a rodeo arena was no excuse.

  Chance laid back his head and cursed in dismay. Damn, he’d screwed up Alexa’s life, and now he was screwing up his own. He’d made an absolute fool of himself with the rodeo cowboy crowd that evening. He had staggered down the lanes to chew out the chute boss for refusing to call his name and number in the calf-roping event. When the chute boss ignored him, Chance had grabbed the man by his shirt and wheeled him around, demanding to know when he’d have his turn in the event.

  To Chance’s humiliation, the chute boss, with an audience of cowboys surrounding him, informed Chance that he had already competed in the event early that afternoon and that he had come in first in the go-round—but was obviously too drunk to remember it.

  Turned out Chance was leading the other contestants by a wide margin and stood to win a hefty prize purse. Fort Worth Rodeo was being better to Chance than he was being to himself. As for his knee, it hurt like hell, but Chance refused to mix whiskey and pain pills. He figured that would make matters worse than they already were!

  When the phone rang, Chance groped for the receiver—and accidentally dropped it on the floor. Slurring curses, he sprawled over the edge of his rumpled bed to retrieve the slippery damn thing.

  “’Lo,” he mumbled.

  “Chance? Is that you?”

  He knew that voice, but he couldn’t place it while he was up to his ears in booze.

  “Chance?”

  “Yeah?” he slurred out.

  “I got your number from Pecos Smith,” the shaky voice informed him. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I thought you might like to know that Alexa has had an accident.”

  Chance shot straight off the bed, staggered, then hit his knees—though he didn’t have two good ones to fall on. “Who is this?”

  “It’s Deb. My sister was hanging a ceiling fan in one of the upstairs rooms at the B-and-B. She was on the ladder—”

  Oh God. Oh God! She’d taken another fall from Grace and broken her neck. Damn it, why couldn’t that woman hire experienced help to complete her project? Hadn’t he told Pecos not to let Alexa near any ladders? Where the hell was that cowboy when disaster struck?

  Where the hell were you, Butler?

  “Is she okay?” Chance wheezed over the thunderous pounding of his heart.

  “Not exactly,” Deb said grimly.

  “Well, spit it out,” Chance demanded, fear and concern eating at his belly like battery acid. “How is she, exactly? She’s still alive, isn’t she?”

  “She’s alive,” Deb confirmed bleakly. “But she’s in serious condition. She suffered an electrical shock that knocked her off the ladder.”

  “Damn it, don’t tell me she forgot to throw the breaker before she hooked up the ceiling fan!” Chance roared in frustration.

  “Fine, I won’t tell you that,” Deb snapped back at him. “This isn’t easy for me, you know. This is my big sister we’re talking about and I’m worried sick.”

  Chance swore under his breath. “Is she going to recover?”

  “Kurt...Dr. Stevenson...says it will take time. She’ll have to remain hospitalized until the wound heals and the swelling goes down. He can’t put a cast on her broken arm until it does.”

  Wound? What wound? The one caused from electrical burns? Horrible visions tangled with the cobwebs cluttering Chance’s mind. He’d heard of electrical currents passing through bodies and blowing out through the skin like discharging bullets. The thought of Alexa suffering left him shaken. And poor Zack, the kid worshiped his mother.

  “How is Zack holding up?” Chance wanted to know.

  “He’s staying in town with me. He’s pretty broken up, because...”

  When her voice trailed off, Chance swallowed hard, his fist clenched around the phone in a death grip. “Go on.”

  “It gets worse, Chance.”


  “Damn.”

  “Howard suffered a heart attack when he saw the shape Alexa was in when the ambulance hauled her away. I know this isn’t your problem, that you’re committed to perform this weekend—”

  “I’m there,” Chance said without a moment’s hesitation. “If you can manage to leave the old truck at the airport in Willowvale., I’ll be on the first available flight.”

  “Thank you, Chance,” Deb murmured gratefully. “I don’t know anything about running the ranch, and Pecos can only do so much while he’s nursing cracked ribs.”

  “I’m on my way,” Chance promised, then hung up the phone.

  The call left him trembling, had him beating himself black and blue for leaving Rocking T. Despite the excessive amount of whiskey he’d consumed, Chance shook his head to clear his thoughts, then made the necessary calls to book a flight and withdraw from rodeo competition.

  Chance stumbled out the door and wobbled across the street to the convenience store for coffee. He downed a quart of it, showered for a half hour, then paced his room.

  He should have been there for Alexa, even if she ordered him to leave. Damn it, damn it, damn it! He’d been so busy trying to obey her wish, trying not to step on her independent toes and trying to prove that he was nothing like Dan, that he’d screwed up in reverse! He should have taken control of the situation—whether Alexa wanted him to or not, which she obviously didn’t.

  Chance knew Alexa had learned to take care of herself and didn’t appreciate domineering men. And so Chance had tried to accommodate her. But now she was going to have to deal with the dominant aspects of his personality. Like it or not, Rocking T was going to be under his command until Howard and Alexa were back on their feet.

  By the time Chance caught a northbound plane, he still didn’t know exactly how he was going to handle Howard, who wouldn’t be the least receptive to his return. The old man despised him. But nothing was going to stand in Chance’s way when it came to providing moral support for Alexa and Zack. And this was the last time Chance was going to bow out graciously when he was needed!