Hard Riding Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  So why did it now?

  He couldn’t exactly say why. He wasn’t sure he cared about the why right now. All that mattered was Lauren.

  “I mean, you’re right. He could have changed. But he didn’t. And, as a result, my daughters...”

  “You have your daughters,” he said. “And it sounds to me like you’ve done your very best to give them the best life you can. You’re a good mom.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “You’ve never even see me with them.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I bet you lose your temper with them a lot. I bet that sometimes it’s frustrating, and sometimes it’s fun. But...you handle it.”

  “How can you possibly know that?”

  “Because here you are,” he said. “Handling all this.”

  Silence fell between them and she picked up a doughnut, taking a bite out of it and chewing slowly. He was transfixed. By the way her pale pink lips closed around the soft treatment. By the way she chewed. He wanted her. Bad.

  But he also wanted her to know that this was different. Not just another fling. Not just another anything.

  She looked up at him, caught him watching her. And he smiled.

  She looked away, color bleeding into her cheeks. He didn’t know what the hell was going on with him.

  She was blushing, and his chest felt tight watching for more signs that she might be affected by what was happening between them.

  There was a little crumb of doughnut on her lower lip. He reached out, brushing it off with his thumb. She ducked her head, and his cock started to feel heavy. Her skin was so soft beneath his. He wanted to keep touching her, but he didn’t want to push it either. He lifted his thumb to his own lips, licked the crumb away.

  “Calder...”

  But then, she seemed to think better of thinking. Instead, she started to lean forward, her lips achingly close to his.

  She jumped, a buzzing sound cutting through the moment.

  “I need to get this,” she said, pulling her phone out of her purse. She looked at the caller ID and frowned, then slid her finger across the screen. “Hello?”

  She listened, strange, daunting horror going over her expression. “When? When was the last time you saw her? Did she take her phone? She’s not answering?”

  Calder stood, ready to spring into action, because he knew exactly what it sounded like, and he was ready to fix it.

  “I can track it. As long as she didn’t turn it off or something. I’ll handle it.” She sighed heavily, her hand on her forehead. “Just let me try this. Stay with Grace.” She hung up the phone. Her hands were shaking, her face pale. “Ava is gone.”

  “That’s the fourteen-year-old?” he asked.

  “Yes. She’s gone. She ran away. At least, that’s what we assume.” She stood up and put her bag over her shoulder. “Hopefully she didn’t run away with a man she met on the internet, but what do I even know? She ran away. I guess I don’t know her very well at all.”

  “You said you could track her phone.”

  “Yes,” she said, already heading for the door.

  “I’ll drive.”

  “You don’t have to...”

  “Lauren,” he said, his voice stern. “You use your phone to track hers, see if you can find out where she is. I’m going to drive you wherever that is. If we can’t find it, I’m going to drive you to the police. We’re going to look until we find her.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” she said.

  “I fucking want to,” he said, the words hard and definitive in the space.

  He thought she might argue, but she didn’t. Instead her lips firmed into a grim line and she looked down at her phone.

  They walked out to his truck, and he opened the door for her. She was swiping at her cell screen, doing something to track the phone he assumed. He wasn’t really up on all that kind of stuff. It wasn’t like he and his brothers had a shared family plan.

  Mostly, his use of phones was limited to swiping right.

  “It’s not coming up,” she said, her tone flat and shaking. He could tell she was trying her best to say calm but was about one second away from losing it completely.

  He pulled out of the driveway, indecisive about where to turn.

  “What does it say?” he asked.

  “It just says that her phone is offline. But I can’t believe that she’d keep it offline. She texts her friends all the time. I’m not really totally sure she knows that I can track her with it. She’s fourteen. She’s not a mastermind. I know that I’ve used this feature to find it for her when she misplaced it...”

  “It could just be spotty service,” he said. “Out here it’s not always great.”

  “What if she’s hitchhiking? What if she got in a car with someone? What if she was meeting someone?”

  “We’ll handle all that if we find out it’s the case. Right now, we don’t know anything. And you need to breathe.”

  “Don’t tell me to be calm,” she snapped.

  “I won’t tell you to be calm, Lauren,” he said, reaching his hand out and pressing it over her thigh. “I just told you to breathe. You have to keep breathing, okay?”

  “Oh, there it is,” she said, holding her phone up to her face. “I can see it. On that...” She was zooming in frantically on the screen, and he stole it from her. He zoomed back out. “Highway 62,” he said, keeping one hand and one eye on the wheel while he glanced at the phone. “Past...” He zoomed in slightly. “Past Get Out of Dodge. So, that’s up the road apiece. It doesn’t look like she’s driving.”

  “She’s just walking on the side of the road?”

  “There are some woods to walk in. She might be just off the road. But, we can find her.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’m not safe to drive.”

  “Of course you aren’t.” He turned left. “We’ll find her soon. I promise. She’s not far away.”

  “I can’t believe she would do this. I don’t know what she’s thinking. I knew that she was mad at me, but I thought she understood. It’s not... It’s not a democracy. This is a dictatorship. I’m not going to... Not going to be dictated to by a fourteen-year-old who doesn’t understand...” There were tears in her voice, the words growing thick. “Who doesn’t understand that I was going to go crazy if I stayed there. I couldn’t live that life anymore.”

  He didn’t know jack about kids. But he knew what it was like to grow up in a house where parents made mystifying decisions. He knew what it was like to feel helpless. Like you couldn’t fix the damage happening around you. “Maybe you should talk to her about that.”

  “All she has left of her father are memories of him. I can’t ruin them.”

  “The fact that you would ruin his memory by telling the truth is his own fault. That’s called a legacy.” His chest tightened, awareness filtering through him that what he was saying applied to him in many ways, too. “People shouldn’t have to behave themselves talking about you after you die. You should do enough good things that they have good things to say.”

  “He’s her father.”

  “And I bet she remembers the reality of the situation. She was what... Eleven when he died? I’m sure she saw some of it.”

  Lauren sighed heavily, her eyes fixed on the trees outside the window. “I know you’re probably right. That kills me. It kills me because I did love him. In the beginning. It kills me because I wanted a better father for my girls. And... It would be really nice if we could just rewrite it. He’s not here. What’s the harm?”

  “The harm is to you, and even though you keep acting like that doesn’t mean anything, it does, baby. It does. You matter.”

  She swallowed hard, her breath stuttering as she sucked in deep.

  “Can you refresh her location?” he asked.

  “Are we close?”

  “Yes. W
e’re getting pretty close.”

  She studied her phone carefully. “It hasn’t moved much.”

  He nodded, going slowly. “That means that she’s definitely walking.” He looked into the trees, keeping an eye out for something. Anything.

  And then he saw it. A figure in a bright white jacket, blond head bent low, loose strands of hair blowing in the breeze. A pink knit hat on her head. Her arms were crossed, and she was wearing a backpack.

  “There she is,” he said, pulling off the road quickly. And Lauren was out of the truck like a shot.

  “Ava!” She stumbled toward the woods. “Ava Marie.”

  But once she reached her, she didn’t yell. Instead she grabbed hold of her daughter and pulled her up against her chest, crying, broken and miserable, and he didn’t feel like he had a right to witness the moment, but there he was all the same. And that was when it clicked into place. Every bit of it made sense. Because he didn’t feel like he was standing on the outside of this, even if he should have.

  This was his. This whole situation.

  And this was why—this unfiltered display of who she was down to her soul—this was why Lauren was special.

  She loved.

  And he wanted some of that. Just a bit. For himself.

  He wanted to fix this. And he wanted her to love him.

  How many times had he wanted the same in his own life? His father had looked for a quick fix in marriages, and long hours worked on the ranch. He had never looked to Calder. Calder wanted to fix this. He could. He cared enough to.

  “I was scared to death,” Lauren said, holding Ava’s shoulders and looking into her eyes. “What were you thinking?”

  “I don’t want to be here,” Ava said, her tone full of anger and the kind of fear that he recognized. That fear teenagers carried when they realized too late the kinds of consequences their actions might have had. When you can only stand back in awe and terror at what you had done, because your brain had finally caught up with your emotions.

  “Where were you going?” Lauren asked.

  “Back to my friend’s house. I figured when I got close enough I’d call Sarah’s mom and have her come get me.”

  “And Sarah’s mom would have just sent you back.”

  “I know,” Ava said, angry tears in her voice now. “I know that. But I thought maybe... I just...”

  “I can’t go back,” Lauren said. “I’m sorry if you don’t understand that. But that’s not my home.”

  “Well, it’s mine,” Ava returned, defiant.

  “I know that it has been. I promise that we’re going to go back and visit. I do. But I needed to be with my parents. You need to be with me. We’ve lost enough, Ava. And I couldn’t live in that place where we had that other life. I couldn’t deal with the reminders. I have to move on. I have to get away from my sadness. From my anger.”

  “Anger?” Ava asked. “What are you mad about?”

  He watched, as Lauren took a fortifying breath. Making the decision. “I’m so angry at your dad, honey. I’m angry at him for being irresponsible. I’m angry at him for not being there for us more when he was alive. And I’m angry at him because no matter how much I thought he could’ve done better, I still miss him. Mostly for you. Mostly for Grace. But it would be better if he’s here, and he isn’t. I just couldn’t take all that anymore.”

  Ava said nothing, her head bent low. Then she took a breath, her shoulders shaking.

  “Do you know what the worst thing is?” Ava asked, her voice small. “It’s that... As long as we were still there in the house in Hillsboro... It wasn’t that different with him gone. Because he was never home anyway. And he never did anything with us. So... As long as we were in that house it seemed like he might still walk in. And I kind of wanted him to. Even though... I know he didn’t come to school plays and things. But he was my dad.”

  “I know,” Lauren said. “I know he was. And he will always have a special place in my heart for that reason.” She cleared her throat. “I think it’s better, though, if we don’t live thinking that he might walk in.”

  “I miss everyone,” Ava said, her tone full of misery.

  “I know. We’ll make friends here. And if you don’t... If you don’t we’ll go back.”

  “But you just said you can’t live there.”

  Lauren nodded. “I know. But if you are miserable, I’ll be able to find a way to move back. We’ll find a different house. We’ll make it different enough.” She sighed heavily. “You have to talk to me. Don’t just go taking off. You scared me. I’m just thankful we found you as quickly as we did.”

  “I was just angry,” she said. “I didn’t think.”

  “Why don’t we get in the truck?” Calder asked, conscious of the fact that he was witnessing this and he maybe shouldn’t be.

  Suddenly, it was as if Ava saw him for the first time.

  “Who’s that?” she asked.

  “This is Calder Reid,” Lauren said. “I used to babysit him.”

  Ava looked him up and down. “Really? He doesn’t look younger than you.”

  “I am,” he confirmed. “As a matter of fact.”

  “He’s been helping get the house ready,” Lauren said, overexplaining in his estimation. He doubted Ava really cared.

  “Oh,” Ava said.

  “It’s very nice of him. There’s a lot of work to do.”

  “Yeah,” Ava agreed. “That is really nice.”

  They got into his truck, the three of them, Lauren right next to him, her leg brushing against his. He wanted to touch her, offer comfort, but he had a feeling that with Ava in the car that would be extremely unwelcome.

  “I’ll drop you back off at your car,” he said. “And, I’ll go inside and start working.”

  “You don’t have to,” she said.

  “I’m going to, though,” he said, making sure his tone offered no chance to argue.

  She said nothing for a moment. Probably because she was trying to figure out a way to argue with him.

  “Thank you,” she finally managed.

  They took the rest of the drive in silence, and when they arrived at the house, Ava and Lauren got into Lauren’s car. Calder went into the house, surveying all the work that needed to be done. He could do this. Do this for her.

  This was different.

  She was different. And he felt different with her.

  He had a feeling that was the last thing in the world she’d want to hear.

  So he was just going to have to keep on showing her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  LAUREN WAS EXHAUSTED by the time she was finished talking with Ava.

  Ava tearfully promised not to do anything like that again. And Lauren, for her part, had tried to be honest with her daughter, trying to explain why she had needed a fresh start so badly.

  She and Ava had cried together, and then she’d asked Grace to come and talk with them. They’d shared memories about Robert. Good and bad. Lauren had been careful, but she did try to come up with a way to honestly express why the situation with their father was complicated.

  The fact of the matter was Robert had died driving his four-wheeler while under the influence. The death was preventable.

  She needed to address that responsibility and choices mattered. She couldn’t just protect him and not use that to teach them. She had also tried to impress upon them that whatever they felt, it was okay. She was angry, but she also loved him. He was their father, and he would always be that. No one and nothing could change it.

  She’d talked to her mother after, and cried more. She didn’t have time to be in the middle of an emotional meltdown but she also couldn’t ignore it all anymore either.

  If this was going to be a fresh start, then it needed to be new. Open.

  She also needed to go to her house and deal with
Calder and all of the work still to be done. The sooner they could be in their house, the sooner everything would be fixed. Maybe.

  It was so tempting to believe that. So tempting to believe that this one conversation might be the end.

  Her rational self knew that wasn’t true. Her rational self knew that this was just one conversation of many that they would need to have. A part of her wanted to believe that for now things were settled.

  She thought about that all the way back to the house.

  Calder’s truck was still there. She honestly couldn’t believe it. He had said he was going to stay and work, but... It had been hours. She was sure he would’ve left. She didn’t understand this unwavering devotion he seemed to have to fixing everything.

  It was alien to her. This kind of caring.

  If he wanted sex, surely there were easier ways to get it. With a younger, more beautiful woman who wasn’t carrying her amount of baggage.

  Women would line up to lick those abs.

  God knew she would.

  She didn’t deserve to think about that. Not now. Not when there was too much...

  She sighed heavily and turned the engine off. She went inside and heard the sound of a hammer going. Walking into the bedroom, she saw that it was absolutely and completely done. She didn’t even know where he was working.

  She followed the sound down the hall toward Ava’s room. There he was, putting up trim around the windows. “What are you doing?”

  “There’s a lot more that needs to be done, beyond what needs to be done to satisfy the bank, I mean. Thought I would help.”

  “Calder,” she said. “I mean, there’s no guarantee at all this is going to...”

  “I wanted to help. And I figure, maybe, if Ava sees that she has a place that’s hers...”

  “Calder, this is just scratching the surface on my life right now. I don’t know what else I’m going to be facing in the next few years with her. With Grace. Right now, Grace still feels like a kid, so I don’t have the same issues with her that I do with Ava. But Ava is... I mean God only knows what’s going to happen next, and then Grace is going to be a teenager. It’s going to be...two times that. It’s going to be ongoing like this. You’re twenty-nine years old. I don’t think you actually want to step in the middle of all this.”