Right now, all he wanted was to start over. Start this next part of his life.
From the porch, he could see that the light was on in the shed. His boots sounded on the boards as he made his way down the porch steps. In the glow of the full moon, he could see that Ethan had given the porch a fresh coat of paint. His brother always had taken pride in the homestead. If Jude did end up selling his piece of the family history, at least Ethan, living in the house they’d grown up in and reviving the Triple C Ranch, would be the keeper of their past.
As Jude drew closer, he could hear Ethan rustling around in the shed.
“Need some help?” he said as he pulled open the door.
Ethan dropped a shovel he’d been holding. He muttered a couple of curse words under his breath as the tool clattered to the ground.
“What the hell, Jude? Don’t sneak up on someone like that. You’re lucky I didn’t hit you with the shovel instead of dropping it.”
“Sorry about that, man. I didn’t know how else to announce myself. What are you doing out here at this hour?”
“I needed to get some things to bring to the stables tomorrow. I thought I would give Chelsea and Tori some time to talk.”
“Yeah, Juliette’s here, too.”
“Did she come with you?”
Jude shook his head.
“I thought you said you two were having dinner tonight.”
“We did. Then we both ended up driving over here separately.”
Ethan picked up his own beer—a nonalcoholic variety—which was sitting in a koozie on the potting bench, and took a swig. Ethan had nearly reached rock bottom at one point in his battle against alcoholism, but through sheer grit and determination he’d managed to win the war. Now he didn’t touch the real stuff.
“How are you two doing?” he asked.
Jude shrugged. “I can’t say that there is an us two. It’s a little early for that.”
“You could’ve fooled me. You weren’t even sitting next to each other at the meeting, but it still seemed like nothing had changed. The reunion committee even has you two performing together for the talent show.”
“Yeah, we’re not going to do that,” Jude said. “What was your magnanimous offer about, anyway?”
“It’s tradition for the class celebrating the reunion to make a donation to the school,” Ethan said. “Your class is going to sell tickets to raise the money.”
Jude held up his hand. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean what the hell were you doing making that five-hundred-dollar donation with a contingency of Juliette and me singing?”
Ethan laughed. “What can I say? I’m a supporter of the arts.”
Jude thought of several comebacks, but shelved them. He just didn’t have it in him tonight to spar with his brother.
“Did you come over just to chew me out for that? Actually, I thought I was helping your cause.”
Jude had a flashback to the night of his senior prom. Ethan had slipped him some condoms and in a fatherly way told him to have fun and be careful. As if he were still a virgin and prom night was the night he’d get lucky. God knew their dad had never stepped up to offer fatherly advice or protection—neither physical nor emotional. But Ethan had always been wise beyond his years. He’d just gotten home from his junior year at college. Jude hadn’t had the heart to tell him that his and Juliette’s virginity train had left the station a long time before prom night. He got the feeling that Ethan would somehow be disappointed in him.
That’s the way he was feeling right now. That he was going to let his brother down, let his family down, again. It’s what he was dreading, the inevitable disappointment in his perfect older brother’s eyes when he told him of his plans. Jude steeled himself inwardly. He should be used to it by now. Nothing that he’d done in his life had ever not disappointed someone. That’s why he’d adopted the motto, You can’t please everyone. So, you might as well please yourself.
Ethan handed Jude the shovel he’d dropped. “Help me take some stuff up to the back porch and we can sit and finish our beers.”
It was a good plan. It would be easier to deliver the news in the moonlight rather than under the harsh, naked bulb in the shed. Somehow that unforgiving, stark light made what he had to say seem even worse.
Shovel in one hand and beer in the other, Jude stepped out of the shed. He heard Ethan click off the light, heard the dull rattle of the tools his brother was carrying, heard the sound of the door clicking shut behind him.
The night smelled loamy and cool-humid. The promise of fall hung in the air as they walked in silence across the lawn back to the freshly painted steps. After they’d deposited the tools onto the porch, they both settled onto a step and sat in silence for a couple of minutes.
Ethan always had been a man of few words. Jude knew he was the one who needed to drive the conversation. Hell, of course he did. If not, they’d end up sitting in companionable silence for most of the night.
Jude took one more fortifying draw from his beer and steeled his resolve.
“Did you ever think about expanding the Triple C?” Ethan had already worked hard to rebuild it to the level it had been before their father had gotten ahold of it and threatened to let it die from neglect and drunken disinterest.
“Oh, I’ve thought about it. It’s in the five-year plan. Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m thinking of selling my land and I wanted to offer it to you first.”
Ethan didn’t say anything for a long while. He just sat there on the step with his elbows braced on his knees, beer bottle in one hand. Jude could see his silhouette in the moonlight as his brother stared straight ahead into the inky abyss.
Knowing Ethan the way he did, Jude knew he was digesting what he’d just said. His brother was a man of few words at the best of times. When confronted with something hard, Ethan usually retreated into his head for a while.
Jude stayed quiet, respecting that, listening to the symphony of cicadas and croaking frogs playing off in the distance.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Jude. I’m not in the position to buy your land for market value and I wouldn’t expect you to sell it to me for anything less.” He sounded annoyed. “Are you really that hell-bent on divesting and distancing yourself from the family? I know you and Dad had some tough times, but he’s been gone a long time now, and I’d like to think that you wouldn’t carry a grudge against a dead man.”
It was easy for Ethan—the perfect son—to talk about not holding grudges.
“Yeah, well, I guess it’s easy to judge when you’re not walking in someone else’s shoes.”
Ethan growled an expletive.
Jude stood. “Look, I don’t owe you any explanations. I came here as a courtesy to you. To let you know my plans and to offer you first right of refusal—”
Ethan frowned up at him from his place on the steps. “You know I’m not made of money. If you’d bothered to keep in touch you might know that I’ve invested everything I have in returning the Triple C to profitability. You can’t just come in here and expect me to write a check without warning.”
“I don’t expect anything from you,” Jude said. “If you’d get the chip off your shoulder and ask me about details rather than jumping to conclusions, maybe you’d understand that I’m not doing this just to get under your skin or to make a point. I’m not selling to distance myself from the family. I have my reasons, Ethan. Do you think I want to sell off part of our legacy? If you knew me as well as you’re chiding me for not knowing you, you’d know that this is breaking me.”
“Sit down.” Ethan took a long draw of his beer. Jude sat.
“You’re right. Tell me what’s going on with you. Why are you selling the property?”
Again, Ethan stared straight ahead into the distance. It would
be easier to talk to him this way. It would be best just to be straightforward. It was hard and humbling to confess how his life was kind of a hot mess, when his older brother seemed to always do everything right.
Actually, that wasn’t absolutely true. Ethan had known his share of troubles. In addition to the alcoholism, his brother had been through a divorce, and of the three plots of land he, Ethan and Lucy could choose from, Ethan had chosen the one that needed the most work to make it sustainable, so that it not only met but exceeded its value. But he’d faced it all and come out the other side a winner. He was remarried to the love of his life, and even though he claimed to not have a lot of liquid assets, the Triple C was thriving. Everything his brother touched turned to gold. Maybe not immediately, but through sheer pigheadedness and a resolute resolve not to quit until he had won, Ethan Campbell never seemed to fail. It dawned on Jude that even though they were different people, maybe he could learn something from his brother.
Jude told Ethan about his injuries and how they had sidelined him.
“If I ride one more season and win, I might not have to sell,” he said. “I have enough money saved to pay the property taxes and upkeep for another year, but after that I’m tapped out. If I do go another season, it will probably be my last. I’d hoped to get in two more good years on the circuit, but I’m twenty-eight years old. I’ve reached the end of the road. I have some ideas of what’s next, but this year’s injuries and setbacks pushed back my progress.”
“Regardless, you’re going to have to do something,” Ethan said.
“I know that,” Jude snapped.
Ethan held up his hand. “Have you given any thought to what you want to do?”
“Of course I have.”
“Would you care to share?”
“I need to figure some things out before I talk about it. I need to figure out how to get from here to there. I have a meeting tomorrow with Copenhagen and my agent. My decision on whether to ride next year will depend on what happens in that meeting.”
“You know, there’s no shame in asking for help,” Ethan said. His voice was less edgy now.
Jude nodded.
He knew, but knowing and doing were two different things. He didn’t want to be a burden...and he hated being beholden to anyone. Especially family. His father had taught him that lesson the hard way. But there was no way in hell he was going to tell his brother that. He could already hear Ethan saying, If you can’t count on family, who can you count on?
Jude had learned a long time ago that it was better to count on no one but himself.
* * *
The next day, Tori met Juliette at her office. They had spent a great deal of the previous night talking shop. Tori had picked Juliette’s brain about every aspect of the wedding business; then she had asked if she could spend the day at the shop with her.
Of course she could. However, Tori was an internationally renowned fashion designer, and Juliette couldn’t help but wonder what Tori thought she could learn from her.
Juliette had gotten to know Tori when she and Chelsea had been roommates at St Andrews. Regardless of what happened, it would be fun to spend some time with her.
While she was waiting for Tori to arrive, Juliette had rushed around, picking up her small office, which was located in a storefront on Main Street, in downtown Celebration. Since her business had grown, she had considered moving to larger digs. It would’ve made sense to move her operation to Dallas, but she enjoyed being in the heart of downtown Celebration. As part of the downtown merchants’ association, she felt like part of the community. And she loved her shop, with its hardwood floors, whitewashed brick walls and crown molding. The storefront windows provided a lot of natural light and the place just had a good energy about it. Everything was made even more beautiful by all the wedding paraphernalia displayed around the space: bridal gown samples, veils that Juliette had designed and made herself, dinner place settings, champagne flutes, bouquets and floral centerpiece samples were displayed under strings of tiny white twinkle lights. The magical energy of the place had taken five years of hard work and determination to cultivate. Though, as she relocated the six shoe boxes that contained Tabatha Jones’s freshly re-dyed lavender pumps, which now matched the bridesmaids’ dresses exactly, Juliette wondered how it was that her shop’s energy didn’t reflect the hundreds of bridezillas who had stormed through the place over the years she’d been in business. Granted, not all of them were bridezillas, but it was safe to say that the vast majority of them had presented a challenge that sometimes crossed the line between concerned client and three-headed monster.
She would need to call Tabatha today and arrange a time to present her with the miracle she had performed. Actually, it hadn’t been that difficult. Juliette had simply taken the shoes and a fabric sample that matched the dresses down the street to her friend Nora at Sassy Feet Shoe Repair.
So much for letting Tabatha suffer the consequences of going against Juliette’s recommendations and ordering from Italy.
Juliette sighed. Once a people pleaser, always a people pleaser. It was her burden to carry.
She should have Tori come with her and meet Tabatha. Juliette chuckled at the mental image of Tabatha’s face when she realized that the one and only Tori Ashford Alden was delivering her purple bridesmaids’ shoes. It wouldn’t necessarily be rewarding bad behavior as much as cultivating good karma by showing Tabatha her bad behavior hadn’t ruffled her in the least.
Juliette quickly dusted two dress mannequins that showcased her own designs—actually, they weren’t her originals. She had created the patterns and sewed the dresses based on sketches that Dorothy Phillips, the late mother of Lucy’s fiancé, Zane, had drawn. They were part of a memorial to Dorothy that the town of Celebration had held in her honor after she passed away earlier that year. Juliette had always loved to sew and she was humbled by the chance to bring Dorothy’s creations to life. The blue cocktail dress looked particularly pretty in the morning light. Maybe she would wear it to the homecoming dinner dance. After all, she had sewn the dress to her own measurements. Why not enjoy it?
She gathered the feather duster and her cleaning supplies and took them to the back room to get them out of the way.
When the bell on her shop door sounded, Juliette walked from the back expecting to find Tori waiting for her, but her breath caught when she saw Jude standing there with two cups of coffee in his hands.
“Good morning,” he said. “I thought you could use some coffee this morning. You were still at Ethan and Chelsea’s when I left last night.”
He handed her the cup.
“Thanks,” she said, accepting it gratefully. “Aren’t you thoughtful? But you didn’t say goodbye last night. When did you leave?”
“I think it was about eleven thirty. I was already outside so I walked around the house to my truck. I figured I didn’t need to track anything across Chelsea’s floor and I didn’t want to disturb you and the girls.”
“Did you and Ethan get a chance to talk?”
“We did.”
“How did it go?”
Jude shrugged. “About as well as I expected.”
“And that tells me absolutely nothing. Does he want first right of refusal? Is he going to buy the land?”
“I don’t think so. He says it doesn’t fit into his current business plan.”
Jude glanced down at his cup. “Although he did bring up a good point. It isn’t fair that I sprang this on him without giving him the opportunity to reevaluate his plans. He was quick to point that out last night. I need to take a step back and rethink what I’m doing. I’m not simply looking to hand off the land to someone who isn’t going to respect it.”
He shrugged again.
Juliette wasn’t quite sure what to say, which probably meant it was a good time to change the subject.
“I thought you had a meeting in Dallas today.”
Jude smiled. “I do. I just happened to see your car outside as I was driving by.”
“That’s the second time you’ve used that drive-by line on me.”
“Is it?”
Juliette nodded.
“Oh, well, is it working?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you drive by my place tonight after you finish with your meeting and see if you can find my car there? I can make you dinner.”
She was going on pure instinct. She knew it might not be a good idea, but she hadn’t been able to get peace about the way they had left things last night.
The bell on the shop door jingled again. This time Lucy and Tori stepped inside.
“Well, hello there,” Tori said, making no disguise of the fact that she was looking Jude up and down and appreciating what she saw. He did look particularly good this morning. His jeans were just tight enough to accentuate his butt. His muscled shoulders and trim waist made the most of his blue plaid button-down, hinting at the sexy six-pack hidden beneath. When they’d kissed at the lake, her hands had done some exploring and he felt good. Damn him. She’d be lying if she hadn’t thought about what was underneath that shirt more than once since then. Obviously, Tori noticed, too. However, Tori was simply a flirt. She knew Juliette and Jude had history and any insinuations were merely for sport.
“Good morning, ladies,” Jude said. “I was just leaving. You three have a fabulous day. And I will see you tonight,” he said to Juliette. How did he make such a simple statement sound so sexy? His gaze promised something. She wasn’t sure what, but it sparked a sizzle of attraction in her veins and encouraged her lady parts to demand things that Juliette’s right mind knew were not a good idea. In fact, they were downright dangerous.
She suddenly had a hunger to live on the edge.
Tori excused herself to the ladies’ room to replenish her lipstick.
“What’s up with you and Jude?” Lucy asked. She’d never been one to beat around the bush.
The Cowboy Who Got Away Page 9
