Outlaw Cowboy (22 page)

“You better just want to go first.”

She was going to cry. She'd been doing so well holding this all together, but telling him would kill it all. All the good, all the happy, all the hope.

But that was life, wasn't it? Things never could work out. That was
her
life. Maybe she was always destined for ruin. “I haven't… I've lied… There's something…” She forced herself to stop, to take a deep breath and push away the panic.

She had to be strong. She had to be honest. She had to blow up her own life. Funny, usually it was someone else, but she was the architect of this disaster.
Maybe he'll forgive you. Maybe he'll understand.

Maybe pigs would fly. “I have a warrant.” She cleared her throat to speak past the lump. “It's a mistake, but I'm currently a wanted woman.”

He didn't move. Didn't blink. It was her old frozen trick, only she didn't know what that meant. “Wanted,” he echoed, his eyes looking toward her but definitely not at her.

Keep going. Get it all out.
“The last guy I was…with, he was a dealer, I guess. I kind of just looked the other way, keeping my head down, trying to get Billie out. Anyway, cops caught on somehow and the guy they sent in to buy from Eddie came inside and saw me, so when they applied for warrants or whatever, I was on the list.”

Now he wasn't even pretending to look at her. He faced the wheel and the windshield. “You have a warrant. For drug dealing.”

“I never touched it.”

He flicked her a look, but it was utterly unreadable. This was the man who would have kicked her off Shaw, the man who could shut it all down and put his own needs first. It was a mask, but he'd found it so quickly.

“Can't you explain that to the cops? They don't go arresting people for fun.”

“I could turn myself in. I could explain. I could testify. I could do a million things, and they could not believe me, and I could go to jail. At the time, I needed to get Steph out, so jail wasn't an option. I ran instead.”

“You ran from the cops.”

“Yes.”

“So for…weeks now, months, you've had a warrant out for your arrest.”

He was so calm it was freaking her out. Because it was a cold calm, not at all a
I forgive you and we'll sort this out
calm.

No, this was the kind of calm that told you your free ride was over, and any love that had grown was dead. Devastating, yes, but she was used to this kind of thing. In fact, she felt like herself for the first time in days.

Let the world crumble at her feet. She knew how to handle that.

Caleb looked straight ahead, though he didn't see anything. Every brain function he had was trying to understand what Delia was telling him.

She'd had a warrant out this entire time. Every time he'd let her into his house, into the barn, anywhere near Tyler's cows, it wasn't just risking his deal with Tyler, it was risking his entire family. They were hiding someone from the cops. He'd all but foisted her on Summer.
Summer
, who'd never done anything wrong.

Any piece of reputation he'd built in town, any chance he'd had to build something based on leasing land to Tyler, any chance to get Shaw under his own name and hands had been threatened every time she'd slept in his bed, eaten his food, cried on his fucking shoulder.

He'd put Shaw and Summer at risk.

But worse, so much worse, he'd fallen in love with her, fooled himself into believing she could feel it back. He'd been a sucker.

“For what it's worth…” she said, sounding calm and collected—a complete antithesis to most of what she'd been the past week or so. “I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you, but…” She blew out a loud breath. “I was happy. Things were good. I didn't want to mess it up.”

“Sure. Didn't want to mess it up. Until someone saw you and you messed up my and Summer's life irrevocably?”

When she didn't respond to that, he forced himself to look at her. Why should he be surprised this was blowing up in his face? That was what love fucking did. It blew up in your damn face. It wasn't even her fault. This was what happened with Shaws who fell in love. Mel was either the exception or headed here eventually.

Delia merely looked ahead, her expression blank and serene.

“You should have told me.” The words escaped too raw and too much. He wished he'd never said it. But she
should
have. A million times. How could she not have
told
him until he was ready to…

“Should have told you. So you could turn me in? So you could kick me out?”

“I…” He wanted to deny it. He wanted to so badly. “Maybe I could have found a way to help. Maybe I wouldn't have put all of Shaw in danger, but—”

Her eyes met his, and she had the gall to seem angry. “Do not kid yourself, Caleb. You would have booted me on my ass so hard it would have left marks.”

He wanted to argue with that assessment. He had to find a way to argue with that truth. “It's been different.” Which weren't the angry words on the tip of his tongue. No, those were the vulnerable ones hanging out in his heart, and he wished them back the moment they escaped.

“Yes, it has.” She shook her head and looked away from him. “But whether I'd told you yesterday or the day you asked me to stay or the million other times I knew I should, this would be the same end result.”

“And what end result is that?”

“You want me gone.”

He didn't want her gone. He wanted this to be a lie. He wanted her to have told him in the first place, except she was right.

He would have kicked her out. No qualms. He would have gotten rid of her the minute she'd gotten the words out of her mouth. Because as much as he wanted this to be
her
fault, it wasn't.

He was the problem. He'd thought he could try. He'd thought he could succeed.
That
was the problem. Why had he ever thought he could change what he was?
It's in you.

“I'll go. I should go.” She nodded resolutely. Her hand held on to the envelope of cash so hard it crumpled.

He should say fine and good riddance. He should push her out instead of wanting to hold her against him and make stupid promises that would never be true.
Everything will be all right. We'll figure something out.
“Where will you go?”

“I don't know.” She gave a little shrug. “But I'll figure it out. I always do.” Her expression went odd, almost like she was trying to smile. “Thank you for everything.”

He looked away from her.
Thank you for everything.
He couldn't fix this, and he couldn't rewind. She had to go. This…this was it. What was there to fight for when she clearly felt nothing for him? “I'll take you back to get your things.”

“Right.”

He started the truck, drove back to the main house, and let her out in the garage. She looked both ways before exiting and disappearing into the house.

He stood by his truck and watched her go. There were no fiery arguments, no breaking things or yelling. A few heated questions, and that was that.

He was going to let her go. Walk right out of his life, much the way she'd come into it. What other choice did he have? Money and Shaw and the future rested on keeping anything on the wrong side of the law the hell away from him. He had Summer to think about. There were things beyond himself he couldn't risk.

He didn't feel anything. Except heavy and cold. He was protecting everything he wanted, and somehow losing everything he wanted at the same time.

But, hell, she'd offered to leave. She had her money, her freedom. Because with Rose's money, she didn't have to pretend anymore.

She could leave him because she wanted to. Because if she loved him as much as he loved her, she would at least want to stay—even if it was impossible.

But it wasn't possible, so what did her feelings even matter?

He was still in the same place when Delia left the house, bag on her shoulder. She crossed to him, held out a few crumpled bills. “Here. For your trouble.”

He didn't take them. She was offering him money? He tried to get his head to work. Tried to get his mouth to tell her no way in hell he was taking her money, but she pressed the bills into his palm, and if he curled his fingers around them, he could feel her hand for just a brief second.

“Bye, Caleb. Thank you.”

He didn't look at her, couldn't tear his gaze away from the twenties in his hand. She was paying him. For his trouble. When he finally managed to look up, she was walking toward the trees that lined the drive away from Shaw. He wanted to run after her. To fix this. He wanted to somehow make none of this matter and everything put back the way it was when they were working side by side, and sharing a bed, and being in love with each other.

But…he couldn't. He couldn't let her stay, and she'd left of her own accord—taking any lies like love with her. Like every other person in his life. So he stood there until night fell, and then he went inside and poured himself a drink.

* * *

Delia reached the end of Shaw property. She was still shrouded mostly by trees, but one step out on the highway and she was in open range. Anyone could see her, find her, lock her up.

She took a deep breath, let it out. There were some conclusions she'd come to in the walk off of Shaw property. Something about fresh air and heartache managed to crystallize the world into a clear picture.

Since she could remember, she'd been letting everything happen to her, because life had been boiled down to survival. Her survival, her sisters' survival. She couldn't remember living for anything else. So she'd turned a blind eye to the world around her, even to herself, because it was all about getting her and her sisters safe.

On a dime, that entire life had changed. Steph and Rose were telling her to back off, they had it handled, and even though it hurt…maybe it was time. Time to be her own woman. Time to suffer her own consequences.

Time for the running to end.

Mustering all her courage, she stepped onto the road and turned toward Blue Valley. It might take her a few hours to get there, but she was going to make it. She was going to spend the night with Rose, to make sure everything with her and Steph really was right, and then in the morning she'd walk right over to the police station.

She was going to turn herself in. She was going to do what Caleb had suggested and tell the truth. If she still got locked up for that, well, it was penance. She would learn from it. She would come out of jail a new woman, ready to live for herself.

And if he hadn't moved on and found someone new by the time that all happened, she was damn well going to come back here and earn Caleb's forgiveness and love again. They fit, and time and time again, life had given her Caleb in her darkest moments.

Now she was going to make sure he was there in the lightest ones too.

But first, there was a piper to pay.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Caleb squinted at Mel. Her eyes were furious, her hands on her hips. Ah, disappointing the people he loved. Familiar territory. Nice to be home. “Hey ya, sis. Got here at just the right time. Pleasantly buzzed. Not to the bitter, angry part of the drinking evening yet. You have time to escape.”

She stalked over, grabbed the glass and the bottle, and marched them into the kitchen.

“If you think that'll stop me…” he called after her, enjoying the way his brain didn't quite put it all together right. Why had he ever given this up? Oblivion was awesome.

“If you think I'll let you throw your life down the drain
again
, you've got another think coming, you self-absorbed asshole.”

“Summer ratted me out, huh?” Funny. He'd given up something to protect her, and she was telling on him.

“No. Dad ratted you out.”

That caused him to pause. “Dad…called you.”

“I was as shocked as you are.”

“Where is the little weasel?” Summer burst in, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. Dan stepped in behind her. What on earth was happening?

“I thought Saturday was family dinner. What's this all about?” Caleb moved to get out of the chair, but Mel pushed him right back down in it.

“It's called an intervention,” Dan offered, everything about him a hell of a lot calmer than the two women seething in front of him. “Um, Mel—”

“Tell me to calm down, and I throttle you,” she snapped at her husband.

“Now, now, this sounds like a marital dispute. I'll just mosey on—” Again he tried to get up, and again Mel shoved him back down into the chair. Hard. “Starting to piss me off, sis.”

“Where is Delia?” Summer demanded, stepping in to stand next to Mel. “Does this have to do with her?”

“Shut the hell up, Summer,” he ground out as Mel's eyes went wide. Great. That's just what he needed. Let Delia go, watch her walk the fuck away, and
then
have everyone find out and have it blow up in his face.

“Who's… Is this about a
woman
?” Mel demanded.

“I'm willing to bet money on it,” Summer returned.

“You two clearly don't need me for this conversation, so—”

“You try to get up out of that chair again, I will rack you as hard as I can,” Mel threatened, her finger pointed right in his face.

He languidly gestured to her stomach. “Is all that violence good for the baby?”

“The baby!” Summer squealed. “You're having a baby?”

“I was going to tell you guys at dinner on Saturday.” Then Mel muttered something about him being an asshole, which was right on the money.

Why was anyone mad or surprised?

“Happy day. Mel is growing people in her lady parts. How about a drink to celebrate?”

The cacophony of people yelling at him after
that
remark went a little fuzzy. Until a piercing whistle made everyone stop.

Dad wheeled in, and thanks to the booze in his bloodstream, Caleb laughed. “Daddy dearest finally gives a shit. Well, color me surprised.”

“Sonny boy can't keep his shit together. Nothing new to see here.”

The hurt didn't come. He blamed it on the booze, but a little niggling voice in the back of his head whispered the truth. It didn't hurt because Dad was
reacting
. No ignoring, no pretending the problem or Caleb didn't exist.

Maybe he'd had more to drink than he thought.

“You let that girl go, I see,” Dad said as though he weren't surprised in the least. Well, why should he be? Delia had never loved him. What was there to hold on to?

“Who is this woman?” Mel demanded.

“No one. No woman. No nothing. I wanted a drink. I had one. Everyone needs to calm down.”

“How long have you been sober? Months! Why are you ruining that? I will not let you do this again. Not again. Not with Shaw teetering on the line, Caleb. You begged me. You begged—”

“Well, too late for lectures, because it's all already ruined.”

“What happened with Delia?” Summer asked again, not taking a fucking hint.

“Stop it.”

“Not until you tell me,” Summer said, and the first sense of pain and guilt pinpricked the frozen numbness he'd felt since Delia had left, threatening the steady buzz of liquor, because there were tears shining there, and it wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

“She left.”

“Why?” Summer demanded, not an ounce of commiseration in her voice.

“Because she did. You guys won't understand, and it doesn't matter, because she is gone and it's over and I'm not drinking because of some woman. I am tired of carrying all the fucking weight.”

“You're so full of shit. You use that excuse, but the truth is you don't
want
to carry all the weight. You want to be sad and pathetic. You don't want to do the hard yards.” His sister, who barely ever yelled at him, who'd spent their childhood and much of his adulthood telling him she'd handle everything, and it would be okay, got in his face, eyes blazing. “You will not make this mistake. I don't know what happened, or who she is, but don't make a mistake you can't fix.”

“It's. Done.”

“Look at me,” Mel instructed.

He only did because she wouldn't get out of his way if he didn't. So he mustered his best fuck-off smile.

“If you recall, I flew to Chicago and got a husband out of the deal when I stopped being afraid of every damn thing that had to do with love.”

“This look like the face of a scared man to you?” Because he wasn't scared. The truth of it was simple. Love wasn't in the cards for him. Love left.

Mel frowned, so he looked around the room, challenging anyone.

“I don't see a scared man,” Dan said easily. “I see a scared little boy, though.”

Caleb was up out of his chair before Mel could slam him down again. “You want to say that again, asshole?”

“You will sit down,” Dad commanded from his chair. “And you will listen to your family, who cares about the choices you make.”

Caleb stared at Dad incredulously. “Are you including yourself in that ridiculous statement?”

“She was…a nice girl.”

“Now I know you're fucking crazy. Look. Everyone needs to back off. So I slipped up? Last time I checked, I was an adult.”

“Yet we all think you're acting like a child,” Summer said as drily as he'd ever heard her.

“Don't be a fool when it comes to love, Son.”

He whirled on Dad. Dad and Dan were the ones he could lash out at, because they weren't the ones who'd—how'd Mel put it?—put in the hard yards. And yet, it reminded him of Delia, saying Dad talked to her because she didn't matter.

Dad mattered. Hell, even Dan mattered in a weird way, so it wasn't the same, and yet they were the easy targets. They weren't what he was mad about. But if he couldn't be mad at them, what the hell would he feel? “Don't be a fool about love? Because Mom was such a great fucking person to love.”

“I wasn't talking about your mother.”

“Oh, were you talking about us? Because that's a laugh and a half.”

“Well, I believe I've been a fool.”

“No one's going to argue that point, are they?” He looked at Summer and then Mel, both who looked away. “Congratulations. You're a fucking fool.”

“This making you feel better, Son? Lashing out at everyone who loves you? Makes you feel like you deserve this failure, only you're the one choosing it. Same as me.”

“Oh, and I suppose you want me to magically be the better person here?” How had he chosen this? Delia had been the one to walk away once she could. What better way was there to be?

“I do.”

Caleb strode over to Dad and waved an arm toward Summer. “Okay. Do it. Apologize to Summer right here, right now. Promise to do better, and I'll do the fucking same.” He leaned against the wall and smirked, because he knew exactly what would happen. Dad would wheel away, and he could go back to his comfortable misery.

But Dad turned his chair toward Summer. “Summer,” he said in a gravelly voice, “I apologize for the way I've treated you.”

“That's not enough!” Caleb yelled, panic soaring through him. Dad couldn't just do it. He couldn't just apologize. He pushed off the wall. “That is not nearly enough—”

“Sit down and shut up, boy. I ain't done yet.”

Caleb didn't know how to argue with that. He
wanted
to, but he couldn't force words out of his mouth. And Summer had to stand there looking so damn hopeful.

“For a lot of years I've failed at figuring out a way to…” Dad cleared his throat, making eye contact with Summer, and it was as if the whole room held its breath, Caleb included. “I made a lot of mistakes. From the moment…” He shook his head. “I don't know. Maybe I was never cut out to be a father. But I hate seeing my son make my same mistakes, because it makes me realize how badly I've handled things. I can't make up for anything. I can't fix anything, but…I will try to do better. You deserve that. You all do.” He turned his chair abruptly, all but knocking Caleb off his feet. “Your turn,” he muttered and then wheeled away.

“That hardly counts if you run away,” Caleb shouted after him, but Dad didn't stop. When Caleb faced the room, Mel and Summer were leaning on each other, crying. Dan was standing behind Mel, a hand on her shoulder.

Summer sniffled. “It was a start.”

“Hardly good enough!” Caleb shouted. It wasn't good enough. Not nearly. It was…nothing. A few words. Words were shit. Absolute shit. You couldn't fix ruining everyone's life for years with a few words.

“It's a start,” she repeated. “A step. We can't ever get there if we don't take them.”

“Why do you have to be so damn positive all the time? So sure things will work out? Sometimes they don't fucking work out! Sometimes the people you love are in direct competition with the things you love and the things you need. Sometimes the people you love don't…” They didn't love you back. Not in his world.

“Why do you think we're here, Caleb?” Summer asked, soft and sad.

It hit him then, too hard, too out of left field. They'd all rallied around him, yelling and crying, yes. Pushing hard truths at him, not because it was fun, but because they loved him.

His family who
had
stuck it out.

“You have to fix it. Whatever happened. I know you can fix it.” Summer pushed off Mel and walked toward him. “The way you two
looked
at each other. The way you understood each other.”

“The way we fucking fought all the damn time? The way she jeopardized everything I was building? The way she walked the second she could?”

“Well, I didn't say you two were perfect.”

Caleb collapsed into the chair, exhausted and wrung out. Any effects of the alcohol were drowned out by pain and confusion and hurt and hopelessness. “Can you all please leave?”

“You promised Dad,” Mel said on a whisper. “If he made an effort to do better, you would too.”

He swallowed at the closing feeling in his throat. “You can take the whiskey. Take whatever. I just want to be alone.”

There was a silence, and he imagined they were all looking at each other, trying to decide.

“Dan and I will be in my old bedroom. Summer will be in the kitchen. When you're ready to talk…” Mel rested a hand on his head briefly. “We'll be here.”

“Why?” he croaked. He didn't deserve it any more than he wanted it. Love left, why had these idiots stuck it out?

“Because this family is done making the same mistakes over and over again.”

* * *

It was pitch black everywhere in town except for the neon lights and the faint hum of music coming from the Pioneer Spirit. Delia was exhausted, and yet everything inside of her felt…new. The freezing hike had baptized her. She was a new person, because for the first time in her life, she was going to be
her
own person.

Steph and Rose didn't need her? Good. She was done saving people, including herself. She was ready to live.

In a jail cell, probably, but it would give her time to figure out what Delia wanted. She hoped.

Still, old habits died hard, and sisterly love didn't die at all, so she had to make sure Rose really had things under control before she gave herself over to whatever might happen.

It had to be close to closing time, so Delia opened the door and stepped inside. It was small and smoky. Two slumped men sat at the bar, and Rose stood behind it. When her eyes glanced up, she immediately straightened.

“All right, dipshits. It's closing time.” She gestured toward the door, so Delia moved out of their path to it.

“Still gots minutes. Don't we?” one of the patrons slurred.

“Nope.”

“Don't fuck with me, pretty little girl. I know what time it is and it ain't closing time.” The man leaned over the bar, and before Delia could rush over and clobber him with something, Rose whipped out a gun.

“See this beauty? Read the inscription. Come and get it. You try. You die.”

The men mumbled slurred curses as they stumbled away from the bar and out the door. Rose followed their progress, gun at her side, then flipped all the locks on the door. Then she turned to face Delia.

Delia tried to smile or say something, but all she could do was focus on not collapsing in a heap at her little sister's feet.

“Well. Here you are.”

“Here I am,” Delia managed. “Just for tonight.”

“Then where to?”

Delia swallowed. “I'm in a bit of trouble.”

Rose flashed a grin. It was a grin that had once gotten her shoulder dislocated. Dad had called it her devil smile. “Did you ever know that you're my hero?”