Read Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way) Online
Authors: Becky McGraw
Tags: #romance, #erotica, #contemporary romance, #western romance, #cowboy romance, #becky mcgraw
“
What do you mean you can’t find
his case? It’s James, Clarence James,” Ryan said impatiently, his
heart pounding in his chest. The prosecutor’s office not being able
to find the file on his stepfather was scaring the shit out of him.
What if they’d turned him loose and he was on his way here? His
eyes shot to Mary, who was in the kitchen making fricking cookies
with Twyla. Lord knew how that would turn out.
The last thing he’d eaten that Twyla made was
rock hard biscuits she’d surprised him with one morning at the
ranch. The thought had been good, but the biscuits, not so much.
He’d choked one down, because at seventeen she had been so proud of
herself. He only survived by chasing it with a gallon of coffee,
but he hadn’t forgotten Twyla’s cooking skills. After that, he ran
when he saw her in the kitchen at the ranch. But at least Twyla was
trying to distract Mary so he could make this call.
“
Hold, please,” the frustrated
woman on the other end of the line said, but she didn’t wait for
him to respond. Elevator music grated on his nerves while he waited
not so patiently. Ryan held three more minutes, and was just about
to hang up when a man came on the line.
“
Mr. Easter?’
“
Yes, who’s this?” Ryan had been
talking to a damned woman, and he wanted her back because he had a
few things to say to her for keeping him on hold so long, and
giving him the run around.
“
This is Robert Miley, the
prosecutor on Mr. James case. You are his stepson is that
correct?”
“
Yes, he is my stepfather.” Saying
those words left a bitter taste on his tongue, but Ryan pushed on
because surely this man could tell him where the hell Clarence was.
“What are the charges against him, and when will it go to
trial?”
“
I’m afraid it won’t sir. You see
we didn’t have next of kin information for Mr. James, so I’m glad
you called…” There was a long pause and Ryan wanted to reach
through the phone and choke the information out of the man, before
he finally cleared his throat and said, “I regret to inform you
that your stepfather was found hanged in his cell yesterday
morning. The death seems suspicious in nature, so it is under
investigation. If you give me your number, I’ll call you when we
find out anything.” Ryan was too stunned to think, then his shock
turned into elation so great he still couldn’t speak.
“
Mr. Easter, are you
there?”
Ryan finally caught his breath, and sucked in
a deep lungful of sweet oxygen, then it came out on a whoop so loud
his voice echoed off the living room walls. He pressed the button
to disconnect the call, and yelled again. Twyla and Mary came
running into the room to look at him like he’d lost his
mind.
He got choked up. “The Lord works in
mysterious ways,” Ryan said his voice trembling.
“
Yes, He does. He improved your
mood. That is a miracle for sure,” Twyla replied with a
grin.
Ryan saw the confusion on Mary’s face, and
knew this wasn’t a conversation to have in front of her. He’d tell
her later, but right now he needed to tell Twyla or bust. “Darlin’
can you run out and check to make sure Boney Pony has enough water?
I thought the bucket was empty when I was out there
earlier.”
Mary hesitated a minute, but then she turned
and walked to the front door. Once it closed, Ryan put his hands at
Twyla’s waist and lifted her up. She put her hands on his shoulders
and laughed as he spun her around and around.
“
Put me down and tell me what the
hell has you so excited!” She protested, wiggling out of his
grasp.
He sat her down, then held her face in his
hands. “Clarence James will never be bothering anyone else ever
again. That bastard is dead, d-e-a-d, and may the devil take his
evil ass. Someone gave him exactly what he deserved,” Ryan threw
back his head and his laughter rang in his ears.
When he finished laughing he was weak from it.
He staggered to the sofa and sat down. “When are the boys coming
over? I think this calls for a celebration. We need to build a
bonfire and burn every stick of nasty furniture in this house, and
his clothes. Ryan looked at Twyla again, felt his lips twitch and
threw his head back against the sofa and laughed again. Fuck,
everything in here. Burn the damned house, we’ll build another
one.”
“
I think it will be therapeutic,
don’t you?” Twyla asked with a smile, as she walked over to him.
“Sleeping on the floor and all. I hear it’s good for your back.
Maybe you should leave it at the furniture and clothes, because you
won’t have a roof over your head.”
Ryan grabbed her and pulled her down on his
lap and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m never letting you go
baby, you’re my good luck charm.”
Twyla’s eyes glossed over and she looked away,
but he didn’t miss the tremble in her chin. He grabbed it and
turned her face back toward him. His smile fled and his eyebrows
slammed down over his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t respond, she just shook her head
and got up off of his lap. Without a word, he watched her walk into
the kitchen. Ryan got up to follow her in there. She was going to
tell him what was wrong with her. She was leaning over the sink
with her head bent, and he walked over to her and put his hands on
her hips and his chin on her shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong,
Twy.”
Suddenly, she turned in his arms and put her
hands on his shoulders. “If you can’t figure it out, I’m not
telling you. This one is for you to figure out, Ryan. I’ve given
you enough clues. Ten-years-worth of clues,” Twyla squeezed out and
ran into the living room. He saw her swipe his cell phone off the
end table, before she ran toward the front door, leaving him
standing there dumbfounded. He played back the previous minutes in
his mind and their conversation, and what he’d said finally dawned
on him.
I’m never letting you go baby, you’re my
good luck charm
.
Ryan blew out a breath, and laid his head on
the back of the sofa. He didn’t want to let her go ever. When she
wasn’t with him, he felt lost. Ryan Easter was in love with Twyla
Taylor, no ifs, ands or buts about it. Had been for years. Twyla
meant more to him than his next breath. And she loved him. She’d
said so, over and over. Had shown him over and over what it could
be like between them. And it was damned good.
“
So why the hell are you letting
her go, dumbass?” he asked himself and sat up to put his forearms
on his knees. He dropped his head and laced his fingers together.
“Because her parents hate me now. Her brother hates me. Told me to
stay away from them and her.”
“
When have you ever listened to
anyone who told you what to do?” A chill raced down Ryan’s spine
and he looked up to look around the empty room for the voice he’d
just heard in his head. It wasn’t his own, it kind of sounded like
his mother’s. The weirdest sensation floated over his skin, a quick
buzzing over every nerve, and then it was gone.
Ryan shoved up to his feet and looked over his
shoulder as he almost sprinted toward the front door. He kept
running toward the barn. Ryan didn’t stop until he spotted a shiny
blonde head duck into a stall. He stopped at the barn door and
cupped his hands to his mouth to shout, “Twyla Taylor! Get your
beautiful ass out here, cowgirl. I have something to stay to
you!”
He was going to shout it to the world, just as
soon as he found her. He thought for sure she would’ve come out
when he yelled, but she didn’t. He walked into the barn and to the
stall he’d seen her enter. Opening the door wider, he looked inside
and saw Mary sitting on a bale of hay in the corner. Her head was
bent and her shoulders shook.
“
Mary, what’s wrong?” Ryan asked
walking inside to kneel beside her.
“
She’s gone,” she said on a
whisper. Her hand shot out and she handed him his cell phone. “You
made her leave, because you’re a dumb man. How can you not love
her? Can’t you see how great she is? I love her!”
“
Where did she go, Mary?” he asked
frantically, his heart sinking to his toes. “I am a dumb man, but
I’m about to get a lot smarter, baby.”
“
Heather is picking her up down
the road.”
“
Down the road!?!” he yelled and
Mary flinched, covering her head with her hands.
Ryan knelt back down beside her and pulled her
trembling body to him. His voice shook as he said, “Mary, I will
never hit you, or hurt you. I swear to you on our mother’s grave.
That will never happen to you again as long as I live…I
promise.”
Heather was in Dallas. That was a three hour
drive, so Twyla had a lot of walking to do, unless they arranged to
meet somewhere. He could probably catch her walking on the main
roads. “Do you know where they were meeting?”
“
She only said down the road,” she
mumbled into his chest, then sniffed. He thought she was sniffing
up her tears, but she sat back and said. “Do you smell
smoke?”
Ryan lifted up to sniff, and sure enough
something was burning. He walked to the barn door and bright orange
flames shot up through the roof through thick black smoke. The
whole left side of the house was on fire. The side where the
kitchen was located.
“
Oh my gosh, it’s the cookies!”
Mary shouted as she sprinted past him out of the barn running
toward the house.
“
Mary, no!” he yelled, running
behind her. That little girl was track star fast as she pumped her
arms in time with her colt-like legs that reminded him of Twyla’s.
His feet stumbled, but he pushed on after her. “Mary,
stop!”
A sharp pain sliced through his side, but he
ignored it. “Mary, please!” he yelled, as he focused on putting one
foot in front of the other without putting one of those feet into
the rutted holes pitting the path to the house. Mary seemed to be
zoned in on the house though. As she reached the yard, a figure
darted out and caught her around the waist. They rolled several
times, ending up under a shade tree near the house. Relief washed
through Ryan as he staggered over to the tree and dropped to his
knees.
Twyla held Mary to her to her chest and rocked
her as she cried, but she didn’t look at him. Ryan dragged in a
breath finally, managed to croak, “Thank you.”
“
I wasn’t far down the road and I
smelled the smoke and remembered I left the cookies in the oven.
I’m so sorry, Ryan,” Twyla said in a shaky voice. “I didn’t mean to
burn your house down. Did you call the fire department?”
“
Nope, not going to,” he replied
with a smile, as he sat on his butt and propped his arm on his knee
to watch.
“
Ryan, your house is burning down.
Don’t you think you should call the fire department?” Twyla asked
incredulously glancing back at the crackling pile of tinder that
was the old farm house.
“
Nah, you were right, baby. This
is therapeutic,” he said with a smile. He tilted his head up to
watch the flames licking the eaves of the house, curling over to
ignite more of the roof.
More frantic, her voice rose an octave, as she
repeated, “Ryan, have your lost your ever loving mind?
Your
house is on fire! It’s yours and Mary’s now.
Call
9-1-1
!”
Ryan shrugged. “You’re not inside, I’m not
inside and Mary isn’t inside. That’s all that matters. That house
is not mine, it’s Clarence James house.” After a loud pop, and a
lot of creaking, Ryan flinched when the roof collapsed sending
sparks into the air. Ryan tsked, then his eyes glided to hers a he
said, “You need to have faith that everything will work out just
fine, baby.” Twyla had given him that faith with her quiet, steady
support. “Too bad the boys are gonna miss the bonfire
though.”
Twyla, pushed Mary off of her lap and crawled
over to him. She grabbed his chin and twisted his face to hers.
“Who the hell are you?”
Ryan leaned forward and kissed her. “I’m the
man who loves you, sweetheart. You are all I need. Not this house,
not the rodeo, nothing other than you. If I’ve got you, I’m the
luckiest bastard on earth.” Ryan pushed the heartfelt words past
the knot in his throat. “Today has been the best day of my life,
baby. Thank you for coming back.”
Twyla’s eyebrows slammed down over her eyes.
“Good Lord, Ryan, I’m calling an ambulance, because something is
wrong with you. Did you inhale smoke?”
He laughed. “Are you asking me what I’m
smoking, darlin’? Ryan’s lips twitched, and he threw his head back
and laughed. “I’m just high on life.” He sobered and looked back at
her. “You’ve given me a new lease on life, Twyla. I don’t know how
this can possibly work out, because your family hates me now, but
I’m going to try to make it work. I owe them an apology, and I just
hope they’ll listen. I have faith, and you. That’s all I
need.”
A loud whoosh preceded a blast of heat, before
the house that evil built collapsed inward and fell in upon itself.
Ryan felt like the last vestiges of his anger and frustration
collapse with it.
Burn in hell, Clarence James, he thought, as
Twyla put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He looked back at
her. “I love you, Twyla Taylor.” He leaned over and kissed her
cheek. “I want to love you for the rest of my life, but we have a
long row to hoe, sweetheart.”