The Heartbroken Cowboy (The Cowboys of Whisper, Colorado Book 2)

by Melissa Keir

  “You know…I hate the words ‘We need to talk.’ It’s never good.” She sat and tucked her legs underneath her.

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I packed a bit of everything.” He laid out the food—crackers, cheese, chips and salsa, grapes, summer sausage, and a jar of lemonade. Johnson passed her a napkin. “While you eat, let me explain about my alcoholism.”

  Debra wanted to avoid the discussion, but the air needed to be cleared. Each of them had been holding in secrets. Secrets which affected their chance at happiness.

  “I was married before. Elizabeth came from Chicago. We met when she vacationed here. Sparks flew, and we moved too fast. Before I knew it, we were married. Her life was in the big city, but she tried to live here for me. She became bored. I offered to move for her. Our life there consisted of parties and more parties. Drinking became the norm.”

  “I know how that is. Social events always seem to involve liquor. Once someone told me that I wasn’t as fun sober. Ouch. Their comments weren’t meant to hurt, yet they did and gave me an excuse to drink.”

  “Our drinking led to some horrible fights. When I was drunk, I didn’t care what I said. When she was drunk, she lashed out physically. Our conflicts broke our marriage. Then alcohol became a way to numb the pain and hide my fears.”

  “It’s ironic how drinking doesn’t really solve the problem, it only seems to make it bearable.”

  “We divorced, and liquor became my solace. It wasn’t until I woke up lying in a pool of vomit, unable to remember what had happened the night before, that I decided to make a change. Luckily for me, Dennis became my sponsor. He put me on the right track. He’s the one in the hospital. Then there’s Jake. He opened his ranch and home to me, giving me a chance when I needed one. I’ll never be able to repay him.”

  “He sounds like a great friend. How’s he doing?”

  “I talked with his daughter Jeannie this morning. He’s up and moving around. They still would like to keep him for a few more days. She’s going to call when she has an update.” Johnson reached over and grasped her hand. “I didn’t mean to fall off the wagon at the wedding.” He gently squeezed. “Jake’s wedding brought back all my failures. Then you were there, so sexy, sophisticated, and gorgeous, and I needed the courage to approach you. I didn’t want you to be like my ex. I didn’t bother to really learn who you were. And we both know that assumptions make asses of us.”

  “I’m sorry that I added to the problem with the whiskey.” Debra stared down at her hands.

  “I egged you on to get something more.” He put his finger underneath her chin and lifted her face so he could gaze into her eyes. “We’re not going to play the blame game.”

  “Thank you for sharing about your drinking.” Tears filled her eyes. “I feel responsible for your falling off the wagon.”

  “Don’t.” He growled. “I was drinking champagne before you got the whiskey. Had I known you also had issues with liquor, I wouldn’t have encouraged it.”

  “I already told you I caused my husband’s death. It started with my own social drinking. Each time we went out with friends, alcohol was involved. We got drunk and did silly things. Thought we were invincible. That night, both of us were way past the ability to drive. We should’ve called a cab. He didn’t want to spend the money, and I didn’t argue. I’d stopped drinking an hour before. However, I wasn’t really safe to drive. I didn’t realize it until a deer darted out in front of the car. My reaction time slowed, and I swerved. The car hit a tree. Steve wasn’t wearing his seat belt and hit the windshield. I had cuts and a broken arm. I regret not fighting his decision to spend the money on a cab. But I can’t go back.”

  “Those regrets always haunt us.” He patted her hand. “I understand why you blame yourself. But you have to let it go.”

  “Easier said than done. Steve and I had only been married a year. Still so much to experience. After the accident, I was charged with vehicular manslaughter but because my blood-alcohol level was under the limit, they reduced the sentence to reckless driving. I lost my license for a year, had to attend a driving class, and was on probation. I swore to never let alcohol pass my lips. At the wedding, I fell, too. Guilt is a horrible thing to hold onto.”

  “Guilt’s evil. It grips you and doesn’t let go. I’m sorry for encouraging you to drink. The whole event was my fault.”

  “More like we both fell. We shouldn’t blame ourselves. Liquor is a dangerous and fickle mistress.”

  “You understand what I’ve gone through. I’m sorry I blamed you for the wedding drinking. I couldn’t face my guilt. I shouldn’t have driven you away.”

  “Let’s stop playing the guilt game. When Dennis is able, I’d like you to meet him. He’s been essential to my recovery. I stopped to see him the other day after I left your office.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “We’ve been talking and haven’t eaten. Here.” Johnson picked up a piece of cheese and touched it to her lips.

  She opened her lips as he fed her. “Umm. Let me feed you, too.” She selected a grape and ran it around his lips. His mouth opened, and she dropped it inside.

  Taking another grape, he put it between his teeth and leaned toward her. She opened her mouth and he used his tongue to drop the grape inside. Her lips connected with his and kissed deeply.

  Her tongue teased his, and she heard him moan.

  His hands move from her shoulders to the edge of her shirt. Air blew across her belly as he lifted the shirt over her head. Johnson kissed and nibbled along her collarbone toward her breasts. His hot breath stiffened her nipples. Debra arched her back, wanting his lips on her.

  Finally, he unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts but not for long. His mouth suddenly closed over her nipple, and he grazed the taut bud with his teeth. She moaned, and her panties dampened. “Oh, Johnson. I want more.”

  She quickly tugged on his shirt, pulling it over his head. Her fingernails raked his back. He gave a sharp intake of breath. “Debra….” Her name became a plea. Then his mouth dropped back to her other breast and he sucked on the stiff nub. He took a step back. Her body chilled with the loss of his heat.

  “Don’t leave….”

  Johnson kneeled and tugged the boots off her feet. “Lie back. Let me touch you.”

  He unbuckled her jeans and dragged them and her underwear down her hips and legs, his gaze heating her body. He caressed her legs, moving higher. He lightly licked her thigh and then lapped at her pussy lips. Debra opened her legs, aching for his touch.

  He sucked on her clit, and she lifted her hips as an orgasm flowed through her. Johnson lay down on the blanket and tucked Debra into his embrace. She lay with her head on his shoulder as aftershocks wracked her body.

  She slid her hand over his chest. “I love the feel of your chest hair.” Her fingers trailed down toward his jeans. “Take these off,” she ordered as she tugged on the waistband.

  “Bossy. I like it.” He removed his boots then stood and dropped his jeans and boxers.

  “I like what I see.” She reached up and ran her hand over his jutting cock. It twitched.

  “That feels so good.”

  Then her palm gripped his cock and slid up and down twice.

  He seized her. “Stop. I want to be inside you. I’ve imagined it for too long.” Johnson rolled her over and pressed his body over hers. She opened her legs, and he entered her. “You feel so good.”

  Her fingernails marked his back as she took him inside. “Johnson. Oh my God. Please.”

  He moved slowly at first then quicker, her nails digging deeper in his back. “Faster, baby.” She urged him on. She felt him arch toward her. His climax sent her over the edge.

  Johnson rolled off her and cuddled Debra in his arms again. She grabbed the edge of the blanket and covered them up. He ran his fingers over her face. “Lady, you are amazing. You’re the first woman I’ve been with since my divorce. I don’t take this lightly.”

  “Cowboy, you’re my
first since Steve, too. I haven’t given myself a chance to be with anyone. I was too busy trying to prove myself. Guilt will do it every time. I needed to prove I wasn’t a drunk. I wanted everyone to see me as an independent and responsible woman.”

  “You are. Everyone in town thinks highly of you. However, none of them spoke about your part in your husband’s death. Why?”

  “It happened in another state. I moved here to start over and only let people know he was killed by a drunk driver. I couldn’t be honest and trust that they would respect me.”

  “I think you don’t give your friends enough credit. It doesn’t change my feelings for you.”

  “Feelings?” Her voice squeaked. “What feelings?”

  “I’m not sure. I like you…a lot. I admire your determination. And you’re damn sexy.”

  “Whew…here I thought you were going to declare your love. It’s too soon.” She thought she saw pain cross his features.

  “Speaking of time, we should head back. It’s getting late.” Johnson stood up and yanked his clothes on. He gathered the food scraps which were all over the grass.

  “We made quite a mess. I’ll get dressed and help.” She tugged her clothes on and folded the blanket then passed it to him. He stuffed everything back in the saddlebags.

  “Ready? Let me help you on Cherokee.” Johnson cupped his hands for her to stand in when she climbed on. Swinging her leg over, she adjusted her body in the saddle and took the reins in hand.

  He mounted Crimson and started back toward the barn. Silence filled the ride.

  Did I say something wrong? Why’s he upset? What’s with the silent treatment? She couldn’t help replaying everything in her head.

  They arrived back at the barn. Johnson came to help her down. When she was face to face with him, she leaned in for a kiss. Gentle at first. She felt him deepen it, holding her tighter.

  “Thank you for today. It feels like a weight’s off my shoulders, being able to share my story with someone.” She smiled at him.

  “I’d like to see you again. Do you mind if I call?”

  “I’d like that.” Debra turned and kissed Cherokee on the nose. “Thank you, Mr. Man, for today. You were a great ride. See if you can convince the cowboy to give you an extra treat.” She waved as she headed toward her van.

  Johnson watched Debra drive away then removed his hat and hit his leg with it. “Why’d I go and say something so stupid?” Cherokee nudged him with his nose. “Okay. I’ll give you a treat. Let’s get you rubbed down. The work’ll do me good.” He led Cherokee into the barn and hooked his bridle to the stall. Removing the saddle and pad, he laid them over the stall door. Getting out the brushes, he began a rubdown on the brown horse.

  “You did great today, old man. I knew you would. You’re amazing with the autistic kids, so I trusted you with my precious lady.” Cherokee snorted and nodded. “I know….” He yanked a carrot out of his pocket. “You deserve it.”

  “Are you talking to yourself again? Don’t you know that’s a form of insanity?” Jake ambled into the barn, his voice filled with laughter.

  “Insanity runs in your family. Not mine.” Johnson tossed a curry comb at him.

  Catching the comb, Jake put it on the shelf. “How’d your date go? Isn’t the river a perfect spot? It worked for Angela and me.”

  “It was nice.”

  “You’re not convincing me. What happened?”

  “I blew it. I brought up feelings, and she freaked.”

  Jake strode over and tugged on Johnson’s arm, so he faced him. “Are you in love with her?”

  Johnson yanked free and gestured to the black horse standing at the hitching post by the barn door. “Instead of bugging me, why don’t you brush Crimson? It’d save some time.”

  “You didn’t answer me.” Jake got into his face.

  “Yes,” he whispered. “Now let me be.”

  Jake strode away.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Debra sat behind her desk, typing up a new listing. She’d set up three showings for a family this afternoon. Hopefully, they’d find one they’d love. The three-bedroom farmhouse she’d listed a week ago crossed her mind. She brought up the details on her desktop. As she scrolled through the pictures, she smiled. The house reminded her of Jake and Angela’s place and was right next door to them. She could see a family there with horses and dogs…or a bunch of barn cats.

  Her mind wandered to her date with Johnson yesterday. Still not sure what she did to upset him, she shook her head and closed the listing.

  Her office door opened and Angela strolled in with a coffee and Café French bag in her hands. “Lookie, what I have.”

  “Ahh. You’ve come to save me. I have showings and no breakfast.” She stood and sauntered over to Angela. “Gimme.”

  Angela yanked the bag back. “No…I want to know what happened yesterday.”

  “A bribe?”

  “You bet. I have to live vicariously through you. I’m married now.” She winked at Debra. “Spill.”

  “You’re getting to be devious since your wedding. It’s like you’re my dealer, holding the treat over my head. Fine. Sit down.” She indicated the two chairs and small table near the front desk. Debra grabbed the coffee like a salvation. Lifting the cup to her lips, she sipped the brew. “I wish this stuff came in an IV.”

  “How was your ride? Jake suggested it, since it was our first date, too. Romantic?”

  “The picnic was memorable. Only something happened. I don’t know what I did, but he shut down. Shut me out.”

  “That doesn’t sound like him. Any guess why?”

  Debra nodded then took another drink of the coffee. “He brought up feelings.”

  “And that was bad? I don’t get it. You have feelings for him.”

  “I know, but no one wants to say it first and not have it reciprocated. Do you remember that Seinfeld episode?”

  “Life isn’t like a sitcom. Be honest.” Angela put her hand on Debra’s shoulder. “Love is about taking chances. A risk but well worth it.”

  Debra grabbed Angela and squeezed. “You’re right. Thank you.”

  “Always. Now, I have to get back to the café. The lunch rush begins in an hour. Let me know how things go.” Angela stood and strolled out the door.

  ***

  Flowers arrived at Jake’s house. First daffodils then a bouquet of daisies. No card, but he knew who they were from. Jake didn’t say a thing, which was why he wasn’t sporting a black eye. Unsure of flower protocol, Johnson filled an old coffee can with water and placed the bouquets in them. They livened up the barn, but the trick was to keep the horses away. They thought flowers were treats.

  The sound of Michael’s electric wheelchair announced his arrival for his therapy. Johnson had saddled Crimson and placed her in the small corral next to the barn.

  Johnson turned. “Hi, Mikey. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m ready for my ride.” The boy’s face animated when he stared longingly at the horse.

  Mikey’s mom waved at Johnson as she headed off toward the family waiting area. She’d been tense and hovering the first time Mikey visited. Now she brought a book or some needlepoint to enjoy herself while Mikey worked with Crimson.

  Johnson opened the gate while Michael powered his wheelchair into the arena. Crimson ambled over to see who’d entered. Most horses would have been anxious with the sound of the wheelchair motor, but the special therapy horses had been trained for a variety of difficult situations. Johnson stood back by the arena fence watching the animal and boy get reacquainted. Another car arrived, but he kept his attention on the therapy session.

  “Who’s the boy?”

  Johnson hadn’t figured the new arrival to be Debra until he heard her voice and smelled her perfume.

  “His name is Mikey. He’s been coming here for about three months.”

  “He’s adorable. Why’s he in the wheelchair?”

  Johnson cleared his throat. “He was a passenger in a car
accident. His spine was damaged. He’s not walked since. It could have been much worse. His grandfather was drunk.”

  She sucked in a breath and clutched her stomach. “How horrible. He’s so innocent.” She turned away but not before he could see the tears in her eyes.

  “His grandfather is Dennis, my sponsor. He’d fallen off the wagon and was at the wheel driving when he shouldn’t have been. I didn’t share about his injury to hurt you.”

  “I realize that. I was the one who asked.” She watched the blond-haired boy laughing at the antics of Crimson who kept nudging the boy’s shoulder. Mikey wheeled away a bit and Crimson followed, nudged, and the game started over. “They appear to be playing tag.”

  “Crimson loves to tease. She’s a grade A flirt.” Johnson turned and faced her. “I have to help Mikey with his ride. Will you stay?”

  “Sure.” Debra strode over to a nearby bench and sat down. Guilt ate at her again. She put a hand on her stomach and massaged the small pain there. Seeing another child affected by alcohol made her more determined to never let another drop touch her lips.

  Johnson called Crimson to him and tied off her lead rope to the edge of the corral. He strolled over. “Are you ready, Mikey?” With the boy’s nod, he placed his arms under his legs and behind his shoulders, gently lifting him. He approached the horse and eased Mikey onto Crimson’s back.

  “Make sure you sit up tall in the saddle. Don’t slump. Hold on and we’re ready to ride.” Johnson untied the lead and led Crimson and Mikey around the arena. For the first ten minutes, Mikey sat straight backed. After a while, he drooped.

  “Are you okay, Mikey?” Mikey tried to straighten up, but his eyes closed as he collapsed over the pommel. Johnson grabbed the boy into his arms, dragged him off the horse, and laid him on the ground.

  Debra dashed into the corral. Her hands flew to Mikey’s face, checking his temperature before moving to his wrist to feel his pulse. “I know what to do. I’ve had fainting episodes like this before. We need to raise his feet. Go down there and hold them up.” Johnson jumped to do her bidding. “My fainting attacks were brought on by a trigger, like pain, fear, or needing something to eat. He should come around in a moment.”