Once a Cowboy Page 13

  “Tripp told me everything,” Colter said.

  Brodie pulled the tab on the beer can and took a big swallow. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. Hell, it’s hard to say the words out loud.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not Brodie Hayes.”

  “Sure you are,” Colter said. “You’re the best damn bull rider who was ever born. You’ve got guts, grit, determination and a winning spirit in your soul. And you’re a friend who would die for me. That’s Brodie Hayes, the man I know.”

  “If the real Brodie Hayes was alive, he’d be in the military striving to achieve the rank of his father.”

  “You can’t think that way,” Tripp told him. “You didn’t create this chaos, and sometimes a man has to be who he really is—that’s why you’re a bull rider.”

  “What the hell.” Brodie shoved back his chair. “Let’s ride like we used to when the world got us down.” He headed for the door and the corrals.

  They had the horses saddled in a matter of minutes and Brodie shot out of the barn, needing to ride like he’d never ridden before. He gave Jax his head and Tripp and Colter kept pace with him. They flew across pastures, scattering cattle, and sailed across a creek.

  When he reached the second creek, he jumped from the saddle and ran to the water’s edge, holding his arms wide. He felt as if the top of his head was about to explode like a rocket, spewing to the sky along with every dream, every emotion he’d ever felt.

  Tripp and Colter dismounted, staring at him with worried expressions. The wind blew through the trees, rousing the heat to a fever pitch.

  “Brodie…” Tripp moved toward him.

  “How do you put a broken cowboy back together again?” he asked, hardly recognizing his own voice.

  Neither Tripp nor Colter spoke.

  “No answer?” he asked, his voice carrying on the wind.

  “Well, I’m broken this time and there isn’t enough tape in the world to hold me together.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t do this. I can’t deal with the Braxton family. I can’t be Travis Braxton.”

  Tripp and Colter walked to stand on either side of him. “Remember when you drew El Diablo to ride in the finals?” Colter asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “He’d already mangled two cowboys and you said you couldn’t do it.”

  “But you didn’t back down,” Tripp said, taking up the story. “You cowboyed up and rode him eight seconds and lived to tell about it.”

  “This is different.”

  “How?” Colter asked. “Just like El Diablo this is another unexpected twist in your life. You cowboy up and face it. Once a cowboy, always a cowboy. I’ve never known you to do anything else.”

  “Me, neither,” Tripp added.

  Brodie sucked in a breath of warm air and it flowed through his system like a wake-up call. He didn’t have a choice. Like the draw in the rodeo, he had to face this situation. Or give up. Giving up wasn’t in him though. He’d finally realized that.

  He picked up his reins. Time to cowboy up.

  They rode back to the house more slowly this time.

  A LEX CALLED M IKE to make sure the ID bracelet did not go to the funeral home with the remains. She was sure Helen would want it.

  She drove home and had a chat with Naddy and they worked out a payment schedule so she could repay Alex for the fine and damages. The talk went well and she planned to make Naddy keep her word.

  Then she got a call from Ethel’s daughter, who said Naddy was a bad influence on Ethel and would prefer if Alex kept Naddy away from her mother. This was one thing she didn’t need today, but she tried to be as cordial as she could without being rude.

  Naddy was at her computer and Buck was out. Alex munched on a Popsicle in the kitchen and wondered what Brodie was doing, and if he was alone. She hated the thought of him being alone. He probably wasn’t. He had his aunt and his friends. But what if he was?

  She threw the wrapper in the trash and grabbed her purse. “I’m going out, Naddy.”

  “Whatever.”

  She’d made so many trips to the Cowboy Up Ranch that the Jeep could probably make it on its own. For her own peace of mind, though, she had to see him. She hoped he understood.

  I T WAS AFTER nine when she drove into his yard. The big truck was there and a light was on inside the house. He was home—alone.

  The dogs bounded from the barn and she took a moment to greet them, then she knocked at the door. There was no response so she knocked again.

  Suddenly the door swung open. Brodie stood there in his bare feet, buttoning his shirt, which was out and over his jeans. His tousled hair and heavy eyes indicated he’d been sleeping.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He ran both hands over his face. “It’s okay. I fell asleep in the chair. Lack of sleep is catching up with me.”

  “I…I…” It was hard to articulate what she was doing here this late.

  He stepped aside. “Come in.”

  The house was in darkness except for a lamp in the den. She sat on the leather sofa and stared at an object on the coffee table. It was a baby’s ID bracelet from the hospital. She tilted her head to read the name, but she didn’t really have to. She already knew what it said.

  Brodie eased into his chair, his eyes following her gaze. “My mother had all my baby things in a box and I picked up the bracelet earlier. I’ll drop it by the funeral home in the morning.”

  She caught his eyes. “Brodie, you do realize you’re not to blame for the baby’s death?”

  “Yes.” He rubbed his hands together. “Somehow I have to do this. It makes it real for me and I can sort it out in my head.”

  “Good.” She brushed a speck off her jeans. “Aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing out here this time of night?”

  “I don’t even know what time it is.” He stretched his arms above his head. The top buttons on his shirt were undone and she glimpsed the dark chest hairs against his sun-browned skin. Her stomach fluttered with awareness.

  He lowered his arms and moved his shoulders in a tired way. “Have you got my place staked out?”

  She’d love to stake him out day and night.

  “No. I just wanted to see you.” She surprised herself with the honest answer.

  “From anybody else I’d take that as a come-on.”

  She blinked. What did that mean? He didn’t see her as an attractive woman? Or he just wasn’t interested?

  “Are you hungry?”

  The question caught her off guard and for a moment she was speechless.

  He shoved to his feet. “Tripp and Colter were by earlier and Camila and Marisa sent food. I wasn’t hungry then, but now I am. How about you?”

  “Uh…yeah. I haven’t had supper.”

  He strolled into the kitchen. “I have no idea what’s in here. Camila’s a great cook. Marisa’s still learning.”

  She pulled out a chair and he brought food to the table. He laid a platter of sandwiches in front of her. “Peanut butter and jelly and ham and cheese. Marisa’s handiwork because I’ve seen her make these for the kids, cutting the crust off the bread.” He went back for more. “There’s Camila’s enchiladas and fruit and veggies. She’s always trying to get me to eat healthy.” He brought the fruit and veggies to the table. “Takes too long to heat up the enchiladas. Soft drink or beer?”

  “Water, please.”

  He placed a cold bottle of water in front of her with a napkin, then straddled a chair, reaching for a sandwich. “Mmm. These are good.”

  “You like peanut butter and jelly?”

&n
bsp; “You bet. My mother used to make…” His words trailed away as he realized what he was saying. “Claudia used to make them for me. Sometimes she’d make them into hearts, squares or circles.”

  “You can’t erase a lifetime of memories,” she told him.

  “I sure wish I could.”

  She thought it best to change the subject. “You seem to have a good relationship with your friends’ wives.”

  “Yeah.” He picked up a slice of cantaloupe. “They’re great women, but Colter’s and Tripp’s love didn’t come without a price.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We met Marisa years ago in Vegas. She’s from New York and a trained concert pianist. The moment she and Colter laid eyes on each other it was just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Instant attraction. He spent a lot of his winnings to buy her a ring.”

  “How romantic.”

  “Not quite. When Marisa’s mother discovered where she was, she came to Vegas and forced Marisa to go home and back to her career. Colter was devastated.”

  “But she returned?”

  “No. Not for nine years. You see, Marisa was pregnant when she left and her mother was furious. She wanted her to have an abortion. Marisa refused. Then she wanted her to give up the baby for adoption. Marisa wouldn’t hear of it. She planned to keep the baby and find her way back to Colter.”

  Alex scooted to the edge of her chair, waiting with bated breath for his next words.

  “Mrs. Preston had a plan, though. She had no intention of letting Marisa keep the baby. Marisa started having problems with the pregnancy and had to be hospitalized. Or at least she thought she was hospitalized. Mrs. Preston put her in an upscale home for unwed mothers and called Marisa’s father, Richard Preston. They’d been divorced for a number of years but together they decided what was best for Marisa’s life. When the baby was born, they told her the baby boy was stillborn.”

  “And they gave him away?” She couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice.

  “Yep.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Don’t get too upset. They hired a P.I. to find Colter and they made him an offer. If he wanted the baby, he could have her.”

  “Her?”

  “Yes. The baby was really a girl. They only told Marisa it was a boy in case she ever saw Colter again. That way she wouldn’t suspect a thing.”

  “And Colter took the baby?”

  “Oh, yeah. He flew to New York and came back with his baby girl. He was paranoid about that kid. We all tried to help him, but he insisted on doing everything for his child. She would never have a mother, but she would have a father who loved her.”

  “How did they meet again?” she asked.

  “After losing her baby, Marisa couldn’t play the piano anymore. She was distraught and Mr. Preston brought her home to Texas. She finally healed enough to go to college then she started working at Dalton Department Store headquarters.”

  “Oh. I finally made the connection. Richard Preston owns Dalton’s.”

  “Yes. He’s a powerful man and tried to run his daughter’s life. He almost lost her.”

  “So how did they meet again?”

  “Colter and Ellie, that’s their daughter, were Christmas shopping in Dalton’s and they ran into Marisa. Colter was angry and Marisa was hurt, wanting to tell him about the son who had died. Colter wanted nothing to do with her and he certainly didn’t want her around Ellie.”

  “So Marisa didn’t know Ellie was her daughter.”

  “No. It took a while for all the lies and deceit to unravel.”

  “Wow. What a story.”

  “Yeah. And it’s still the same with them. Even in a crowded room sometimes all they see is each other.”

  “Now that’s a fairy tale,” she said, biting into a strawberry.

  He popped a grape in his mouth. “You don’t believe in that kind of love.”

  “Do you?”

  “Colter got lucky—real lucky. After all the heartache, he’s finally happy. I’m not sure that happens for everyone.”

  “What about Tripp? You’ve told me some of his story and he seems happy.”

  “Yeah, he’s happy, too.”

  “We have about a dozen sandwiches to finish off so tell me more about Camila. What does she do?”

  “As a teenage mom Camila devoted her life to raising Jilly. Jilly’s almost fourteen now and known as the angel of Bramble, Texas.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. She spends all her time helping the elderly. She picks up their groceries, their medicine and just spends time with them when they’re lonely.”

  “That’s unusual.”

  “Camila did a super job raising her. Of course, Camila’s a very good role model, very warm and loving. To stay at home with her daughter, Camila used her skills to create her own business, Camila’s Common Threads.”

  “What’s that?”

  “She quilts, mostly baby quilts that she sells on the Internet and in her store. And she makes scented soaps, which seem to be very popular. They’re sold all over Texas.”

  “She sounds very talented and creative.”

  “She is and she’s also now the mayor of Bramble.”

  He talked so lovingly of these people and Alex knew they were his real family. The family that was always there for him.

  She helped him put the food away.

  “I’ve been talking too much.”

  “No. I loved hearing about your friends.”

  “If you come to the service, I’ll introduce you.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He opened a drawer and pulled out a plastic bag. In the den, he dropped the bracelet into it. “I’ll bring it to the funeral home first thing in the morning.” He laid it on the coffee table and sat on the sofa, staring at it.

  She sat beside him, hating to bring up something, but she had to. “I asked Mike to save the other bracelet for Mrs. Braxton. I’m sure she would want it.”

  “Probably.”

  “Brodie…”

  “Alex, please. Don’t tell me about them. If you do, they will become real. Right now, I can’t handle any more reality.”

  “I know.” She thought about the rattle and knew it wasn’t the right time to give it to him. Slipping an arm around his waist, she rested against him. He pulled her closer, leaning back against the sofa. She could feel the steady beat of his heart. It was just the two of them, alone in this room. The world, the Braxtons, awaited outside. For tonight, though, there was just the moment and a cowboy who was hurting.

  His hand slid to her hair and removed the clip, her blond hair tumbling to her shoulders. Cupping her head, he kissed her gently, then again, his lips barely touching hers yet it was the most powerful, erotic sensation she’d ever felt. His tongue ran across her bottom lip, tasting, tantalizing, then he kissed her deeply.

  When she’d dreamed of kissing Brodie, it was nothing like this—mind-tripping, spine-tingling good. It was like being without water for days and once you had that first sip, you couldn’t get enough.

  Her hand found its way inside his shirt and he caught it, kissing her knuckles, then her lips again briefly. Holding her close he reached up and turned off the lamp.

  She curled into him, knowing that tonight the passion building between them would not find its release. He just needed someone to hold—to help him make it through the night so he could face tomorrow.

  And that was a gift in itself—that he needed her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brodie woke up at dawn and stared down at the woman in his arms. Her head rested below his chin, her hand lay on his
chest. She slept peacefully, making an occasional deep-breathing sound. That was probably as close to snoring as she would ever get.

  It felt so right to have her in his arms. He’d never needed anyone in his life, but last night he’d needed her. It wasn’t sexual, either. Not that he didn’t want her. Last night was about something entirely different. It was about comfort, caring and mental nourishment so he could face another day. Holding on to Alex gave him that strength.

  The pretty P.I. was getting to him and he didn’t mind. Even though she worked for the Braxtons, he trusted her.

  She stirred and sat up, brushing hair out of her eyes. “Good morning,” she whispered.

  He felt a catch in his gut at her sleep-filled voice. Her soft brown eyes were languid, sensuous, and he had a feeling she’d look like this after making love. After…

  Rising to a sitting position, he flexed his shoulders. “Morning.”

  She sniffed the air. “I don’t smell coffee. After spending the night on this sofa, I expected coffee to be brought to me.” Her eyes twinkled.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He rose to his feet and headed for the kitchen. She had a knack for putting a smile on his face. When the first cup dripped out, he took it to her.

  “Wonderful.” She curled up in the corner of the sofa. “Yikes!”

  “What?” He turned from getting himself a cup.

  “This is black.” She made a face and hurried after him to the kitchen.

  “Oh. I forgot to ask. I’m not used to getting coffee for a woman.”

  “Really?” She put milk and sugar in her cup and stirred.

  “Yes, really.”

  She leaned against the cabinet, sipping her coffee. “So I’m your first?”

  He grinned. “So to speak.”

  “Cowboy, that is so hard to believe.”

  “Well, you see, I’m used to having a woman bring me coffee.”

  “Now that I believe.” She smiled, bringing sunshine into the room.

  He walked over and tucked her hair behind her ear, loving the easy banter between them. It’s what he needed this morning. He needed her. “I’ll bring you coffee any day of the week.”