Make Mine a Cowboy

by A. J. Pine

“Nah.” Their father dug into the wood with his fingernail. “Might make it harder for me to get around. Harder to think clear, to remember things.” He shot them an ornery grin. “Hell, that’s been happening for years.”

  Not funny. None of this was funny. There was plenty Luis wasn’t saying. Lance could tell. He knew a few things about Parkinson’s. One of his old high school teachers had been diagnosed a few years after Lance’d graduated. Far as he remembered, the man had suffered complication after complication until he’d passed away.

  “What can we do?” Lucas finally spoke. The terrified look in his eyes reminded Lance of the day they’d sentenced him to prison.

  “Nothin’. Not right now, anyway.” Luis took a minute to look at each one of them. “I’m sorry I kept it from you. But I wanted to be sure. Before I went and got everyone all riled up.”

  “It’s okay, Dad.” Levi’s eyes steeled with determination. “Truth is, we’ve been keeping something from you, too.”

  Tension gripped Lance’s neck. This was it. The conversation he’d dreaded for years. But he nodded at his brother. It was time. Long past time. “A lot longer than a couple of months,” he added.

  Lucas seemed bent on fading into the background, but they had to do this. And now was as good a time as any.

  Luis sat straighter, his posture apprehensive. “I don’t understand.”

  “Lucas didn’t set the fire that night. I did,” Levi said directly.

  Their father’s head shook. He clearly didn’t believe them. “But you were only fourteen. And Lucas confessed.”

  “Because we worked out a plan,” Lance cut in. He was so ready to be done with this. To put the past behind them so they could be family for whatever time they had left. “Levi’d already been in enough trouble. We were afraid of what juvie would do to him. So Lucas said he’d take the blame instead. He had the cleanest record.” It had made so much sense at the time.

  “Why?” Their father was raking his hand through the tufts of white hair that were already sticking straight up on his head.

  Levi’s jaw tightened. “You were meeting Maureen Dobbins there. And I was so pissed off.” He cut a glance to Lance. They’d all been pissed off. Levi was the one who’d caught Luis kissing Maureen in the stables, but they’d all been angry about his frequent indiscretions. They’d heard the rumors around town. And Maureen was married. To the rodeo commissioner.

  Levi wouldn’t look at any of them. “I thought Mom would come back. So I wanted to destroy it. The place you met up with Maureen. To make you stop.”

  Their father stared at the table, hands flat and motionless against the wood. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, nearly breaking the words. “I’m so sorry, boys.” An expression of stunned anguish drew Lance’s hand to his father’s shoulder.

  “I didn’t know how to be what you needed,” Luis uttered. “I didn’t know how to be what she needed. I couldn’t hold it all together.”

  “Doesn’t matter now,” Lucas insisted. “Things are different. You’re different.”

  “We’re all different,” Lance threw in. And maybe that meant things could change now.

  Luis seemed to shut everything else out as he gazed at his middle son. “All these years…” It was barely over a whisper. “I was so hard on you…”

  Lucas slipped out of his chair and knelt in front of their father. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. I don’t want you to think about it now.”

  The old man couldn’t seem to lift his head.

  “You did your best.” Lance waited until Luis looked at him. “Things might not’ve been perfect, but we knew you wanted us. We knew you loved us. We never had to question that.” Didn’t matter what happened, Luis wouldn’t have left them. He never would’ve walked out on them. And in Lance’s book, that made him a saint.

  “None of us care about the past.” Lucas went back to his chair. “Time to move on, focus on you. Figure out how we can get you the best treatment available.”

  A breath lifted Lance’s chest. Hope. He breathed it in. Six months ago, he would’ve been on his own with this. But now his brothers were home. They could navigate it together.

  “I don’t deserve you boys.” Luis’s eyes were all watery. “But I sure am glad to have you.”

  “I know a couple of doctors back in Oklahoma,” Levi said, pushing back from the table. “I’m gonna call them and see if they have any recommendations for a good neurologist. We need the best.”

  “And I’m gonna call the McGowens. Let them know I’ll be delayed for a while,” Lucas said, already pulling out his cell.

  After they’d stepped out, Luis faced Lance. “Why’d you keep the truth from me all these years?”

  That was a no brainer. “To protect you.”

  “Some secrets are meant to protect, son,” Luis said with a resolute quietness. “Sometimes that’s all you can do for the people you love. Try to protect them. Even if it backfires on you.”

  Ouch. Nothing like tasting the truth of your own words. He slumped against the chair back. “I had no right to get so angry at her.” Jessa had the best intentions. Always. She’d already proven that more than once. “Shit.” He rested his forehead on the table, trying to formulate some kind of plan for how to take those words back, how to convince her he wanted her around. To be a part of this family.

  A hell of a lot of time passed, but nothing came to him.

  “Got a lead,” Levi said, coming back to the table.

  Lucas joined them, too. “They said to take all the time I need,” he said, brushing a hand over Luis’s shoulder. “We’ll do whatever we have to do. You’re not gonna go through this alone.”

  A long-forgotten sting pricked Lance’s eyes.

  “I made a lot of mistakes,” Luis said, looking around at his sons. “But you boys…you’re the only thing I did right.”

  “Come on.” Levi rose from the table. “Let’s head downtown. Beer’s on me.”

  They all stood, but Lance hung back. “Actually, I have somewhere else I’ve gotta be.”

  A knowing look bounced between the others.

  “Good luck, man.” Lucas whacked him on the back.

  Luis only shook his head. “Trust me. He’s gonna need it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  We’ll always have Paris.

  God, was there a more tragic phrase in the English language?

  Jessa blubbered into the wad of Kleenex she’d fisted in her hands. “Isn’t this the best movie ever?” she asked, reaching over to pat Ilsa’s head.

  On the couch next to her, the pig was too busy rooting her mouth around a bowl of fresh salad to actually watch the movie. A few days on antibiotics and the pig couldn’t stop eating.

  Jessa turned her attention back to the television. On a normal night, Casablanca drew a sort of dreamy-eyed teary sadness, but tonight it moved her. Lance’s words had embedded themselves in her heart. She heard them play over and over. Even one of her favorite movies of all time hadn’t drowned them out. And maybe it wasn’t so much the words as what hid behind them. He’d wounded her on purpose, and she didn’t understand, couldn’t fathom, ever doing that to someone.

  She wrapped her father’s old wool blanket tighter around her shoulders, needing to feel that connection with him. With someone. The past few weeks of her life had been so wonderfully sweet. She’d actually felt like a part of the Cortez family. But that was her fault. She’d let herself read too much into it, let herself hope for something she knew she’d likely never have.

  Headlights cut across the windows outside. She paused the movie and popped to her knees on the couch, stomach quaking with that familiar hunger Lance teased out in her. All it took was one thought of seeing him and suddenly her stomach groaned as though she hadn’t eaten for two weeks.

  Sure enough, his truck parked along the curb in front of her house.

  Damn it! She slouched down trying to hide herself from those windows. “Quiet, Ilsa, baby,” she hissed. She couldn’t face
him right now! Her eyes had nearly swollen shut from the tears. How pathetic was that?

  The dreaded knock came at the door and Jessa scrunched herself down farther into the couch.

  “Jessa?” Lance called.

  She didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe. Maybe he’d take the hint that she didn’t want to talk to him. Except she did want to talk to him. She really did. Her heart thrummed and her palms grew warm. But that was why she had to ignore him. If she let things go any further with him, he’d break her. He’d hurt her and she’d never recover.

  “Come on,” Lance said. “I can see you sitting there. Don’t make me break in again,” he added.

  As if he’d earned the right to be cute.

  “Fine.” But when he saw her ugly, makeup-smeared eyes, he’d regret the threat. She’d always known makeup was a bad idea. What was the point anyway? A girl had to be able to cry without worrying she’d scare people away.

  Keeping the blanket snug around her shoulders, she stood and plodded to the door, sneaking in a fortifying breath as she unlocked the deadbolt and opened it a crack. Just a crack.

  “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was upset. Surely you can understand that. He’s all I have…”

  She shuffled out onto the porch so he couldn’t step foot in her house. If that happened she wouldn’t have the strength to make him leave. And she had to. She deserved more than this. The cycle of him losing his shit and apologizing to her. “I get that,” she said, forcing herself to look at him. “I know you love him.” Luis may be the only person in the world Lance loved. “But he doesn’t have to be all you have. That’s what you’ve chosen.” He chose that an hour ago when he took the one shot at her he knew would destroy her.

  A look of desperation widened his eyes. “I won’t give up. I’m gonna make you forgive me.”

  “That’s the thing, Lance,” she murmured through a sigh that admitted defeat. “I’ve already forgiven you.” She’d forgiven him the moment he’d said those words. Because she loved him. Once again she loved someone as hard as her heart knew how, but he didn’t love her back. And she couldn’t do that to herself. After Cam had walked out on her, she’d thought she needed to give up on men, dating, relationships…but that wasn’t true. She didn’t have to give up on every man. On every relationship. But she had to choose the ones that built her up. She had to be strong enough to hold out for someone who would love her the way she craved. And let’s face it…Lance didn’t love her. He loved that she made him feel better about himself. That she believed he could win this competition. But what would happen when there were no more competitions? When he no longer needed her to boost his confidence?

  He stepped closer, gazing down into her eyes with so much emotion she had to look away. “Let me come in. Please,” he begged, brushing his hand across her arm as though he knew how much weight his touch held.

  It did. One light touch from him ignited her. That’s why he couldn’t come in. She had no self-control when it came to Lance. If she let him in, he’d have her naked and in bed within five minutes, which would only make her love him and want him more. At some point she had to stop doing this to herself. She edged toward the door, gripping it for stability. “Here’s the thing,” she said, scrubbing the emotion from her voice. “I can’t keep loving someone more than they love me. It hurts too much.” There was no other way to say it. This whole thing with Lance had been more intense, more powerful, than any relationship she’d ever had. She felt it deeper and she had to protect herself.

  He held her shoulders in her hands and forced her to face him. “I want to love you.”

  “But you don’t.”

  He sighed and let his arms fall to his sides. “I’m not sure how to yet.”

  The admission purged her anger and gave sympathy room to grow. “It’s not something I can teach you,” she told him softly. “I always thought it was. Every relationship I’ve ever been in. I’ve tried.” But that wasn’t the way it worked. “Turns out, it’s not so easy. Turns out that it ends up only hurting me. I don’t have the energy for it anymore. I’m tired.” Of getting hurt, but maybe even more than that, she was tired of trying so hard.

  “You don’t have to be the one to teach me,” he insisted. “I’ll learn it on my own. I’ll figure it out.”

  She stepped backward, underneath the open door. Half inside her house and half outside. “It’s not something you figure out like some kind of puzzle.” It didn’t have to be so complicated. It wasn’t like passing a test or forcing yourself to work hard. “Love is something you choose. Every day. In the happy moments. But in the terrible moments, too. In the moments you’re so angry you want to hurt someone. You still choose love.” And he hadn’t.

  “God.” The word came out through a tortured sigh. He lifted his hand to her face and drew her lips closer to his. “I want you so much it makes me hurt.” His lips brushed hers and held on, locking her in a passionate kiss.

  A sigh gave her away and she wilted against him, letting him bring her arms around him and pull her close. Just once more.

  “Jessa, I will make this up to you,” he uttered, kissing her mouth as though desperate to prove his words.

  But a kiss wasn’t enough. Mind-blowing sex wasn’t enough. Him running to her when he needed comfort or confidence was not enough. Not for her.

  She pushed him away and held him at arm’s length. “You need to go now.” Before it got any harder for her. Before she wasn’t able to do what she knew was best. “Good night, Lance,” she whispered.

  Then she turned away and escaped into the house.

  * * *

  It wasn’t like Jessa didn’t have anyone. Surrounded by the light of her friends, the night didn’t seem so dark. Darla, Cassidy, and Naomi all sat around her in the living room, forming what had become their sacred circle. They each still wore expressions that ranged from outrage to shock to indignation based on her explanation of what had transpired with Lance.

  She hadn’t held anything back—nope, the whole ugly truth was out there in the safest place possible. These women would guard it with their lives. When she’d put out the SOS text, they hadn’t asked why, they’d simply come over right away, toting along chocolate and wine and ice cream, even thought it was almost midnight.

  Naomi hadn’t even bothered to change out of her pajamas. She’d simply gone over and asked Luis to sit at the house with Gracie while she ran an errand. Jessa imagined his eyebrows had gone up, but Naomi said he hadn’t asked any questions. Of course he hadn’t. That was Luis. He strictly minded his own business.

  So they were here. All her best girls. And her amazing little piggy was perched comfortably on her lap. And you know what? That was enough. Who needed boys anyway?

  “I can’t believe he said something so stupid,” Naomi fumed around a mouthful of intense dark.

  “Oh, I can,” Darla cut in. “Lance has no clue when it comes to women. Or love.”

  “Seems to run in the Cortez family blood,” Cassidy grumbled. Jessa didn’t know all of the history between her and Levi, but the woman didn’t exactly sing his praises.

  “I don’t know,” Naomi murmured, looking down. “I always felt like Lucas understood me just fine.”

  Jessa reached over Ilsa’s head and patted her friend’s hand. Seemed she wasn’t the only one hurting. Ever since Lucas had come back, Naomi had been subdued and sullen.

  “I hope you told him where he could stuff his sorry-ass apology,” Darla muttered, pouring Jessa another glass of the good cab.

  “I stayed pretty strong.” Much stronger than she’d ever imagined she could be. Of course, the confrontation had been pretty short. One more minute alone with him and she would’ve totally caved. “But I don’t trust myself to stay strong.”

  “Of course you can,” Cassidy insisted valiantly. “You kept him out of your house. That was smart.”

  “You got this,” Darla agreed.

  Jessa withheld the story about getting
in the car twice to go throw herself into his arms before they’d arrived. “The thing is, I don’t think I can stay away from him. So Ilsa and I are heading to Denver first thing in the morning. To spend the weekend with Mom.”

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” Naomi asked, wide-eyed.

  “Yes.” She’d thought it over and she didn’t have a choice. “She might say I told you so, but she’ll also take me out to dinner, and we can go shopping. Maybe even for a pedi and massage.” Her mother still loved to take care of her, no matter how pathetic she was. “She’ll love Ilsa,” she said, giving her girl a squeeze. “Besides, I don’t trust myself.” She had to get out of there for a while. At least until Lance left for Worlds. Then she wouldn’t have to see him, or accidentally run into him at the grocery store or the bar. She glanced at Cassidy. “Can you cover for me at the shelter tomorrow?”

  “Of course. I can take more shifts, too. If you want to stay longer.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t want to be gone too long.” She didn’t plan to put her life on hold this time.

  If her many breakups had taught her anything, it was that she couldn’t sit and wallow.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  He sure wished talking to a woman was as uncomplicated as talking to a bull. Wild Willy didn’t care what the hell you said to him as long as you fed him. Lance walked away from the corral. Last day of training before he left tonight and he didn’t even feel like being out there.

  As he neared the fence, he noticed Levi hanging out waiting for him. Knots of tension pulled tight in his shoulders.

  “So how’d things go with Jessa last night?” his brother asked, though he had to have some clue, given the fact that Lance couldn’t seem to focus.

  Damn. He whipped out his bandanna and mopped his face. Levi would love this, knowing he’d struck out. “She told me to take a hike.” Not like he could deny it. Levi would find out soon enough anyway.

  “Seriously?” he asked through a laugh. “What the hell did you say to her?”

  “I don’t know.” Wasn’t like he’d scripted out anything eloquent. He sucked at talking. “I said sorry.”