Vaughn's Pride: California Cowboys

by Selena Laurence

  And he managed it all just in time for T.J. to arrive.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, fine. Just uh, lost the leg. I mean, I have it, but it came off.”

  “You scared the hell out of me!” she said, far louder than necessary.

  “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he told her, spitting out salt water as a wave slapped him in the face. She treaded water next to him, her face tense as she watched him. He was strong. He could tread water for a long time now that the artificial limb wasn’t dangling anymore. But he still wasn’t sure how difficult it would be to get back to shore.

  “What were you thinking coming out this far on your first try?”

  “I don’t know, I just… It was working, so I kept going.”

  She wiped at her face, her lips tight and her eyes worried. God, he hated that look. She’d had it so many times in the last few months, and it was all his fault. He was a fucking idiot. Trying so hard to show her he could still do everything he once had that he’d put them both in an impossible situation and made her worry yet again.

  “Hey,” he said, pulling on the waistband of his swim trunks and stuffing the leg in until it was wedged against his hip and both hands were free again. He reached out and pulled her to him, both of them treading water comfortably now in spite of the waves that kept smacking them and bouncing them around. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he discovered that his stump was almost as useful for treading water as a full leg.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated as she looked up at him, her eyes shining a bit too brightly. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I wasn’t thinking. It was selfish and stupid. I just wanted to prove that I could do this. I wanted to overcome the fear of failing at something yet again.”

  “They can make some adjustments to the fit of the leg so this doesn’t happen again,” she told him. “But stuff like this is why you’re supposed to take it slow, one step at a time—sorry, pun not intended.”

  He smiled softly at her, at the fact that she could still be so concerned about him. For once, it didn’t feel like pity. It felt like she cared, and it was good for his soul to know that she still could.

  He couldn’t stop himself as he leaned forward and kissed her on her pert little nose. “Okay. You’re right, I need to do this the right way. One step at a time—pun absolutely intended. You have my word, from now on, I’ll follow your instructions to the letter.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath, seeming to exhale all the anxiety of the last twenty minutes.

  “Now we have to get you back to shore,” she said, disengaging from his hold.

  “No, we don’t,” he said sternly. “I got myself into it, I can get myself out. You go ahead. I’ll be behind you. Might take me a bit, but I’ll make it, and when I get to shore, you can lecture me some more and make fun of me because I’ll have to hop to the chairs.”

  She rolled her eyes, then looked at him seriously. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Scout’s honor,” he answered, holding up two fingers.

  She nodded, then slowly turned and started a comfortable stroke back toward shore.

  Vaughn took a deep breath and arranged the artificial limb more snugly in the side of his swimsuit. Then he plunged under the water, giving a strong breast stroke with his arms and a dolphin kick, his leg and a half effectively functioning as one. It worked, and he came up at the end of the stroke and took another breath before going under again. It was going to be a long trip back to shore, but he was young, healthy, and fit as hell. It was time to put in the work needed to be the man he could be, and it started here, with a hard swim in choppy waters, using what he had left, and moving toward the ultimate goal—the woman he loved.

  12

  T.J. stood and stared at the empty space in the parking lot of the Shark Tooth. He. Did. Not.

  They’d been home from college for less than twenty-four hours when he’d texted and said he was picking her up to go out. While they’d only been friends all during college—texting, snapchatting, and getting together with old high school friends during breaks—she’d harbored hope that once they were both back in Big Sur, things might change, and when he’d wanted to see her right away, her spirits had soared.

  He’d shown up at her house freshly showered and smiling, making plans with her dad to help with the roundup the following weekend, and complimenting her on her new outfit. Her mom had smiled knowingly at her when Vaughn wasn’t looking, and for the first time since that horrible day when he’d cut her out of his life after his parents died, she’d had hope that they might get back to where they belonged.

  Then they’d gotten to the bar, and he’d paid attention to everyone but her. Talking, flirting, drinking, and generally behaving like the life of the party. She’d chatted with some old acquaintances, answered questions about what she’d be doing now that she was out of school. And then she’d watched as Miranda Nelson had homed in on him, rubbing her big fake boobs all over Vaughn’s arm and batting her equally fake eyelashes at him. And damn if he didn’t seem to be onboard for it.

  An hour later, she’d gone to the bathroom and when she got out both Vaughn and Miranda were gone. She headed straight to the parking lot only to find his truck, the one that had brought her to the bar, was gone as well.

  “Goddamit!” she screamed into the night.

  “T.J.?”

  She spun around to find Mike Donovan coming toward her across the lot.

  “Thank God. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Why?” she muttered, arms crossed as she stared a hole into the empty space that had housed Vaughn’s truck.

  “Vaughn told me to take you home. And he threatened me with some really ugly shit if I didn’t do it. I don’t feel like losing my ’nads tonight.”

  It was like a cold slap in the face. He’d planned it down to the last detail. He couldn’t just be the asshole that brought her someplace and ditched her. He still made sure she had a safe ride home, even after making her believe that tonight was the start of something better. He’d never intended to be with her at all. She was just T.J., his friend. Only his friend.

  She smiled sadly at Mike. “I’d like that ride now if it’s okay. I’m ready to leave.”

  Later that night, as she lay in bed fuming over how she could have been such an idiot, her phone chimed. She picked it up and read the text, her poor heart reeling in confusion.

  I miss you, it read.

  “He did not!” Janelle exclaimed as T.J. told her the story of Vaughn’s first swim while they drank coffee on the deck at Lynn’s Coffee Shop. “Men!” she continued, her hands flailing as she talked with them. “Their stupid male pride. They’re all the same. Put them in front of a pretty girl, and they’ll make complete idiots out of themselves trying to look good.”

  T.J. sighed. She wished it was only that, but she knew Vaughn, and she knew that more than proving himself to her he needed to prove himself to himself. That was where the true sticking point lay. Because until he’d convinced himself that he was whole, he’d never be for anyone else.

  “Well, luckily it all turned out okay. He was tired when he got back to shore. It took him twice as long as it had to get out there, but he made it, and the leg didn’t get damaged.”

  Janelle shook her head. “Are you going to work with him more? I bet you could tell Rob what he did and get out of it.”

  The thought had occurred to T.J.; it was the perfect opportunity to get what she wanted. But suddenly she didn’t want that as much. Now that Vaughn was actually trying so hard he was doing risky things, she had a need to be there with him while he healed. Watch over his recovery from a new perspective, that of a therapist helping a client. Because that was all it would be. They could put the rest of it behind them now that he was going to cooperate with his therapy. And she was going to be his therapist, not his anything else.

  Yeah, she needed to keep telling herself that.

  “I thin
k I’m going to stick it out,” she said, trying to sound as casual as she wished she was. “Now that he’s on board with therapy, it’s a great opportunity to work with an amputee. I should be able to learn a lot, like Rob said.”

  Janelle looked at her with one eyebrow raised. “Mmhm.” Disappointment saturated her voice.

  “Really. It’s a great opportunity professionally. Surely you see that?”

  Janelle just stirred her coffee and watched T.J. with a look of pity.

  “I…he…it’s only… Grrr!” T.J. growled.

  Janelle chuckled. “You tell yourself whatever you need to, young Padawan. But if you have to work that hard at convincing yourself, maybe you’re not being completely honest about it.”

  T.J. glared at Janelle for a few moments before putting her sunglasses over her eyes and leaning back in her chair, her posture belligerent.

  “Seriously. Are you getting roped back in by him? You guys have a really complicated history. You can’t let him manipulate you into being his special buddy again.”

  T.J. sipped her iced coffee and watched the ocean for a moment. “No, it’s not that. Honestly. It’s a good opportunity to learn, and let’s face it, Vaughn and I live in the same tiny town. I can’t escape him, not the way I tried to the last few weeks. He’s going to be everywhere for the rest of my life. If we can find a way to coexist without being what we were, then that’s probably a win for the whole village, not just us.”

  Janelle laughed. “True. It’s pretty awkward having to worry about you two running into one another. So, client and therapist?”

  “Yeah. Client and therapist.”

  “And when that’s done?”

  “Amicable acquaintances.”

  “Okay, tough girl, if that’s what’s going to work, then you have my support.”

  T.J. smiled at her friend even as her insides twisted the tiniest bit. Was it going to work? She had no idea, but she was running out of ideas for how to live in the same town as Vaughn, so something had to, because she wasn’t leaving, and neither was he. They were stuck together, and that was why they had to figure out a way to manage it without destroying either one of them or the entire town.

  “Now tell me the juicy stuff. How was your date with Drew last night?”

  T.J.’s mind returned to the dinner and movie that Drew had taken her to. It had all been very…nice. He was nice. Grown-up, polite, funny. There wasn’t much to dislike about Dr. Drew.

  But he wasn’t Vaughn, and as much as she knew that wasn’t something she should think every time she was with him, she did.

  “It was nice,” she answered. “We ate at Le Chat, and then went to the movies in Monterey. I now know Wolverine’s life history.”

  Janelle sighed and looked glassy-eyed for a moment. “Hugh Jackman.”

  “Yeah, he’s old.” T.J. raised an eyebrow at her friend.

  “Hot has no age.”

  T.J. snort-laughed.

  “But seriously, when are you guys going out again? And did you invite him home for a drink?” Janelle made air quotes with her fingers.

  “No, I didn’t invite him home for a drink.”

  “Well, hell, I was hoping maybe you had some juicy details to share. What use are you?”

  “I don’t know, and if you’re looking to me for that kind of dirt, you’re going to be disappointed. I’m not ready for that with him. He’s a great guy and all…”

  Janelle sighed. “But he’s not Vaughn,” she finished.

  T.J. looked over the tops of her sunglasses. “I’m trying.”

  “I know, honey, I know.”

  “I’ll get there, but you and Drew are going to have to be patient.”

  “As long as you’re trying, that’s all you can do.”

  Trying to get past Vaughn? Yeah, she was trying. It would be a lot easier if he wouldn’t touch her the way he had at her house the other evening. But she’d keep trying, and if she kept giving him the message, eventually he’d get bored and move on, go back to his floozies in bars all over the Central Coast. This was Vaughn, after all. Once he’d recovered and gotten comfortable with his new condition, he’d be off chasing skirts the way he had ever since they broke up in twelfth grade.

  “I’m doing more than trying,” she said with a renewed sense of purpose. “I’m done. Like I said, he’s my client and a member of my community, but that’s all, and as soon as he finishes his therapy, we’ll be nothing more than those polite acquaintances I mentioned.”

  “That’s my girl,” Janelle said. “Now, when do you see Drew again?”

  “He’s supposed to call me tonight, and we might go to San Francisco tomorrow and see Hamilton.”

  “Oh my God!” Janelle exclaimed, leaping from her chair as if she’d been burned. “That only gives us one day to shop! Hurry up, let’s go do our afternoon appointments so we can get to the mall in Monterey before it closes tonight.”

  With Janelle orchestrating the exit from the coffee shop, T.J. followed obediently, trying to ignore the little voice in the back of her mind that said no matter how many trips they took to see musicals in San Francisco, Drew would never be what her heart wanted, but Vaughn would never be what her life needed.

  Vaughn shook his head stubbornly. “No,” he said succinctly.

  “You can do this,” Cade responded firmly. “And I’ll be right here. We’ll take him on a couple of loops around the corral, that’s all.”

  Vaughn ran a hand over his scruffy chin. When would Cade ever get it?

  “I’m not a fucking two-year-old.”

  Cade sighed, long and heavy. “I know that. I’m just saying that if you’re anxious about it, I can be close by.”

  Anxious. That was one way of putting it. Another was abso-fucking-lutely dead set against it. Because while he’d enjoyed surfing, and swimming was second nature to him, and he loved hiking and could camp for days without feeling a need for civilization, it was riding that had defined Vaughn.

  Being on a horse was everything in his pre-accident life wrapped up in one big, unattainable package. It was freedom, the outdoors, animals, the land, escape. Riding had made Vaughn feel like nothing else in the world did—with the possible exception of being inside T. J. Brisco—and there was no way he was going to corrupt that memory with his awkward, imperfect body. No way he was going to endure the humiliation of trying to hoist himself on and off a horse with a leg that he couldn’t feel or really control.

  The myriad possibilities of disasters sifted through his mind—getting the prosthesis caught in the stirrup while the rest of him left the horse, being out on the range when the horse threw him and left him with half a leg and no way to get home or even get off the ground, managing to mount but being unable to dismount, caught on a giant beast until someone would have to help him off. His face heated at the mere thought.

  “No,” Vaughn said again, heading out the door of the barn. “Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. If you need me out on the range, just say so, and I’ll get on one of the four-wheelers.”

  Cade shook his head in frustration as he followed Vaughn out. “You always hated the four-wheelers. How many times have you given Ty the speech about not being in touch with the land and scaring the shit out of the cattle?”

  “The times they are a changin’,” Vaughn grumbled in response as he reached his truck and pulled open the door.

  “I thought you were going to get serious about your rehab, start using the different legs we’ve set you up with?”

  He stopped, hand on the top of the driver’s door, his head bent in preparation to enter the cab. “I’m learning how to swim with the aqua leg. In open water. I’ll learn the running blade too if you want, not that I’m planning on entering any marathons, but this is different. There’s only one way to ride a horse, and that’s with your whole body. I don’t have my whole body anymore. I won’t be riding.”

  Cade’s voice was soft behind him, gritty with insight. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that it was what
you and T.J. did together? All these years and all those women, T.J.’s the only one you ever rode with. It was your thing. You going to tell me that isn’t part of it?”

  “No,” he answered as he climbed in and shut the door. When he drove away, he could see Cade still staring after him in the rearview. And he wasn’t sure what his “no” had even meant.

  13

  “T.J.?” Vaughn’s head popped up over the branch of the tree that she was sitting on. “Are you cryin’?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

  T.J. sniffed and tried to stop the tears, but they wouldn’t quit rolling down her face.

  Vaughn hoisted himself up onto the branch where she sat against the tree trunk and balanced himself next to her, swinging his legs as he sat.

  “You didn’t wait for me after we got off the bus. I’ve been trying to catch up with you for the last half mile.”

  “I’m sorry,” she sniffed in a small voice.

  “What’s the matter? Did you get hurt?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “I don’t wanna say.”

  “But you have to tell me or I can’t make it better,” he pleaded.

  “It’s okay, it’s not your job to make it better.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said indignantly. “That’s what best friends do. That’s what I’ll always do for you.”

  She sniffed and looked up at him from under her lashes. Sometimes, like now, looking at Vaughn made her tummy do little somersaults.

  He picked up her hand and held it as he talked. “I, Vaughn Rexford Jenkins, do hereby declare that as Theodora Jayne Brisco’s best friend, I will always do whatever is necessary to make her feel better.”

  T.J. giggled, and suddenly the mean things Davey McCoy had said to her didn’t matter nearly as much.

  “Now,” he continued. “Tell me what made you cry.”

  She told him, and he listened solemnly. She knew her name was weird. Her parents had expected a boy, and when she came out instead, Theodore Junior turned into Theodora. That was why she used T.J., but Davey had peeked at the teacher’s attendance screen where everyone’s full names were listed. Then he’d used it to start picking on her. She hated being Theodora sometimes.