Rebel Cowboy (26 page)

The three of them, standing in a line, holding hands and asking for their father back. It was like nothing that had ever happened to her, and the hope hurt as much as it lightened the heavy load she’d been carrying.

“He’s gone,” Dad said, and their breaths seemed to collectively whoosh out as Dad wheeled out of the room.

There was no denying the sting of hurt and betrayal and abandonment, but they had
asked
, and Mel wanted to believe that it was the first step. That they would try again and receive a different answer.

Believing that was so much better than accepting the crap as it was.

“I’m sorry it didn’t turn out better,” Caleb said, still staring at where Dad had left.

“Me too,” Summer returned weakly. “But, it could have been worse.”

“We’ll keep trying,” Mel said firmly.

Summer and Caleb looked at her, and for the first time she saw the resemblance. Something about the way their eyebrows raised to practically the tops of their heads when they were surprised.

“He’s still in there,” she added. “The man he used to be. He just has to stop being so afraid. We should keep trying, I think. Not right now, but…we should. Don’t you think?”

Summer’s surprise morphed into a smile, and she flung her arms around Mel’s neck. “Yes, I think so,” she whispered, squeezing Mel tight.

Mel awkwardly patted her back, offering Caleb a “what am I supposed to do?” look, but he just shrugged, and if she wasn’t totally off base, his mouth curled up at the corner just a little bit.

“Let’s eat,” Summer said, finally releasing Mel. Of course then it was Caleb’s turn to awkwardly pat her back when she gave him a hug. “Emotional heartbreak makes me hungry.”

She jangled off to the kitchen, and Mel and Caleb stood there, looking at each other.

“You’re right,” Caleb offered.

“I know.”

This time Caleb really did smile. “That mean you’re going to go make up with that asshole hockey player?”

Mel pressed a hand to her stomach.
Dan.
Just the mention of him hurt in places that couldn’t be reached, couldn’t be soothed. Not by anyone but him.

But she had said some truly horrible things in her attempt to push him away. How did she face those? How did he forgive those? She might not be strong enough to deny her love for him, but was it too late? “I don’t know.”

“For what it’s worth”—he shoved a hand through his rumpled hair—“you probably should.”

Mel swallowed. “That’ll probably be met with the same reaction Dad just gave us.”

Caleb shrugged. “You’re the one who said we should keep trying.”

Right. Keep trying. Because the hope was better than defeat. Because…life with Dan hadn’t broken her. It hadn’t made everything hard. It had opened her eyes. It had cracked her open, so maybe she could heal instead of soldier on.

Because of him. His strength, his support, his
love
. She’d been cruel, and it hurt that she’d allowed fear the power to make her cruel. But she was still strong. She was still Mel Shaw.

And she was in love. If Dan didn’t forgive her the first time, maybe she’d just…keep trying.

* * *

Chicago was no longer home. Dan felt it the minute he stepped off the plane. It dug in during his meeting with Scott, as he walked around his apartment, trying to figure out what he needed to do before he could call someone to pack it all up. As he tried to remember why he’d thought he needed three days here. In retrospect, he wished he’d flown in for the press conference and flown out.

This was not his home, and maybe it never had been. Llamas and mountains were home.
Mel was home.

“Well, fuck that,” he muttered. That was… He and Mel were… The word he needed was a word he was having trouble accepting.

Over.

Whether his brain wanted to accept it or not, it was one of those things beyond his control. He had laid his heart on the line, she didn’t want it, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it except accept it and not let it change the course of his life or the decisions he
could
control.

It was shit, and it did hurt, and maybe it would always hurt, but it wasn’t reason enough to run away. If there was something to be taken away from that phone call with Grandpa, it was that hurt and happy sometimes kind of bled all over each other, and the good parts were worth it. Escape didn’t change the hurt, but it sure as hell kept a lot of the good at bay too.

That phone call had killed him, but his grandpa thought Dan would stay. Someone believed that Dan Sharpe could be happy
there.
Even if Grandpa hadn’t known who he was talking to, he’d…known.

Mel and Blue Valley had changed Dan. He’d grown into someone else, someone who didn’t fit into his old life anymore, and that was worth the hurt.

It was all worth it.

If when someone knocked on his door his idiot brain fantasized it was Mel on the other side, it didn’t matter. Because it turned out to be his parents. Together.

Surely that had to rank higher on a scale of weird than llamas.

“Mom. Dad. I didn’t know you were both in town.”

Mom smiled at Dad, but it was one of her pressed-lip smiles, kind of pained—a forced show of politeness. “We thought it might be good if the three of us were in the same place.”

He moved out of the doorway so they could step inside. Any random thoughts that perhaps his parents had gotten over their unease with each other disappeared when they immediately separated. Dad going to one side, Mom to the other.

“Daniel…”

“We wanted to talk to you.”

Dan took a breath, let it out. He supposed he was about to get double-teamed on the “we’re worried about you” talk. At some point he was going to have to accept that neither of them would probably ever understand this.

He plopped on his couch and flashed an old-Dan smile. “Is this where you tell me there’s a psychiatrist waiting for me downstairs to talk me out of my cowboy delusions?” He looked at both of them. “A good rancher has to be a little crazy, guys.”

“We don’t think you’re crazy,” Mom said, clutching her purse, the pained look softening into something more like hurt.

That was enough for Dan to realize he was handling this all wrong. Pretending it didn’t matter, acting like it was a joke. No, that’s not what had gotten him this far.

“Look.” He pressed his palms together then stood. “Retiring is not a decision I came to lightly. And the llama-ranch thing, I’m sure it seems a little strange on the surface, but there are reasons, and they’re both good ones in general and good financial ones as well.”

He looked from his mother’s still-concerned face to his father’s surprised one. “This is not a whim, it’s not a joke. It’s not even running away from an unpleasant situation. It’s something I can see doing for a very long time, and I don’t see much point trying to ingratiate myself back into hockey just to prove a point or to help Dad or Scott’s career. The thing is, when you find something that…that fits you like a glove, that feels right and like home, you don’t let that thing go because it seems a little weird or isn’t what you’d planned on.”

Mom slid onto the very end of the couch, suddenly looking exhausted. “I think he just effectively undermined all our arguments, Gary,” she murmured.

Gingerly, Dad took a seat on the opposite side. “I believe you’re right.”

Dan stood before them, shocked that was all it took. Just a little honesty. Of course, that hadn’t worked with Mel…but he wasn’t thinking about her right now.

Of course, his own words haunted him.
When you find something that feels right…you don’t just let that thing go…

Except
he
hadn’t let it go.
She’d
walked away. Period. No wishy-washy crap allowed.

“Let me take you guys out to dinner,” Dan said eventually. He’d much rather have a dinner with his parents than sit in this apartment, trying to figure out what parts of it would actually belong in his new life. “You can give me some press conference pointers.”

Mom and Dad looked at each other, both grimacing a little bit, but they seemed to come to some silent agreement.

“All right,” Mom said, getting back to her feet, purse still clutched to her stomach.

They had never been a demonstrative family. Not in all the time he could remember, so pulling Mom into a hug was awkward, but he did it. Because Mom certainly looked like she needed it.

She was stiff for a second before her arms came around him. “My, you have changed,” she said quietly.

“It’s for the better, I promise.”

“Well, you were quite fine before, but if you’re happy, then it is better.” She kissed his cheek and released him, and it didn’t matter that he didn’t fit in this place anymore. He had that moment, and like the one with Grandpa on the phone, it would mean something for a very long time.

Mel clutched her knees, mainly in an attempt to keep her palms from sweating. And her heart from leaping out of her chest, and her brain from zooming off into the horizon of so many bad outcomes.

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Caleb offered, turning onto Dan’s property.

Oh, shit, maybe she was. “You’re not helping.”

“If he doesn’t immediately fall at your feet, he’s the asshole I always knew he was.”

“I messed this up. I really did. He was…” Sweet and perfect, and she’d been mean and awful. Why was she doing this?

Love. Right. She didn’t want to live without the cocky bastard. She wanted him in her life. She wanted to help him with his problems and she wanted to wake up each morning, in his bed, in his life—no.
Their
life. She wanted to face every trouble together, holding hands and knowing they would find a way to make it to the other side.

Caleb shrugged. “So what?” He pulled his truck next to hers. She’d half expected it to be gone. That Dan would have gotten rid of it since she’d been too busy to come get it.

And by busy, she meant chickenshit.

Dan’s Harley was nowhere to be seen. But Buck Haslow’s truck was in the drive on the other side of hers, and something about that made Mel’s stomach pitch. “He’s not here.”

“You gonna wait or come back later?”

Mel swallowed. Buck would only be here if… “I don’t know.”

Caleb gave her shoulder a little push. “Go. Wait. In fact, I don’t want to see your face at Shaw until you’ve got this sorted. Your heartbreak is getting on my nerves.”

“He might be…gone.”

“Then he’s an asshole and an idiot. And a fucker. And a whole other list of things. Go. Find out. You want me to come with you?”

“No. No. Go home. Summer might cry if you don’t get her up on a horse today.”

“That girl is going to cry either way. She cries at everything. Happy. Sad. Kittens.”

Mel snorted. “She’s a mess.”

“But I think she might be good for us.”

“I have no doubt, actually.” Summer showing up felt more and more like serendipity than the catastrophe she’d initially figured it would be. Not that anything good was happening with Dad, but nothing worse than things already were.

In fact, not even worse, because over the past five years she’d slowly come to the conclusion that Dad had never really cared, or loved her nearly as deeply as she’d thought. If he could turn himself off like that because of his accident, then maybe she’d always imagined his affection.

But he’d let Mom walk away with his child because Mom had threatened to take
her
, and she couldn’t deny that had to mean something. Couldn’t get over the belief that it meant Dad
was
under the shell of a man he’d become. Somewhere.

And maybe they could find it.

But first things first.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said to Caleb, pushing the door open and hoping her legs held her up. Her legs felt weak. Everything felt weak.

“Take your time. I’ve got things covered.” He readjusted his hat and made a wry face. “Promise this time.”

“I believe you.” And she did, which she wasn’t sure she could have said a few weeks ago. Caleb had been right about needing to be honest.

Honesty. Trying again. Not shutting off everything in the hopes the pain would shut off too. That was a lot of stuff to change in such a short period of time. Heavy and intimidating, but laced with something she hadn’t felt in so long.

Hope.

Laced with something she’d tried to convince herself didn’t exist, or couldn’t last. But she believed now.

Love did hurt. But it healed and it gave and it supported. It was there, a hand on her back when she was facing something she didn’t know how to deal with. Strong arms around her when she broke down or a hand to hold on a starlit night.

On not-quite steady legs, she walked to the cabin. She’d take a peek in the window, maybe the door if it was unlocked, and see if her keys were in there. Then, if she didn’t see anything, she’d search for Buck.

She felt like some kind of creepy Peeping Tom, peering into the window next to the door. Everything looked about the same, if dark. Llama books piled on the table, and her truck keys sitting on the counter exactly where she’d left them.

Well, at least he hadn’t tossed them into the fields as she’d half expected.

“He’s gone.”

Mel jumped and turned to see Buck staring at her from below the porch. She swallowed. “Gone?”

“Yup. Chicago.”

Even though she’d imagined it, the confirmation was painful. She leaned against the wall of the cabin, trying to stay upright. Trying not to cry. She’d ruined everything.
Everything.
Not just her chances with Dan, but this thing he’d been so excited about. All because she’d pretended not to believe in him to save her own stupid heart.

She slid into a crouch, idiot that she was. She would not cry in front of Buck, of all damn people, but all the strength had been knocked completely out of her. How did she fix
this
?

“He’ll be back Wednesday.”

“What?” The words made no sense in the midst of all her swirling thoughts.

“Wednesday. He’ll be back Wednesday,” Buck repeated, looking at her like she’d grown three heads. It was hard to blame him. “Had to go take care of things in Chicago for a few days or somethin’.”

“Right. Sure. Yeah.” Mel kept nodding, long past the moment she needed to. It took physically putting her hands on her face to stop, to get some semblance of reason back in gear.

Buck muttered something and walked back to the llamas, and Mel sat, trying to breathe through the remaining pangs of panic and heartbreak, and focus on the reality. He wasn’t gone for good. If he was taking care of things in Chicago he was, in fact, probably making arrangements to come
back
for good.

Wednesday.

She could wait. She could. Or… No, she couldn’t… She’d wait. It would be the sensible thing to wait for him to come back, and then she could lay out her apologies. Her own…love crap.

Or…

Mel stumbled to her feet, swallowing down the jittery flips her stomach seemed to be doing. The idea was
not
sensible. Going to Chicago on a whim, without knowing if there’d be a flight or where he was…it was something she would never, ever do.

Which seemed like reason enough to do it, to prove…something. That she wasn’t afraid.

No, that wasn’t right. Because she
was
afraid. She was downright terrified, so it wasn’t about proving she was strong or brave. It was about laying her heart at his feet because she simply could not wait.

She was really losing her marbles.

One of the llamas bleated, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut, because her first thought was that it was Mystery, and if she was starting to recognize llamas by their bleats…well, she’d
already
lost her marbles.

So…why not go for it?

* * *

Dan didn’t mind the suit so much, but all the people were driving him nuts. He’d answered what felt like the same question about thirty times.

No, it’s not about the cheating allegations.

Yes, I realize people will think that no matter what happens.

No, I don’t care.

It was at least somewhat refreshing to find it was true. Sure, he’d love everyone to think his career was a grand and shining example of how to play the game, but even if he’d done everything right, that was never going to be the case.

He’d just be happy if this official announcement took some of the heat off Dad. Few people had suggested he was an accomplice, but there was no doubt Dad had spent his summer being asked about his son’s possible shady dealings. Dan preferred people ask Dad questions about actual hockey, about his actual job. If this took the heat off Dad a bit, so be it.

And if Dan had snuck a little line in there about hoping the NHL considered investigating someday so they could offer a formal apology, well, it was his say, and he got to say it.

The press conference was over, but there was still a room full of people to contend with. But he was ready to be done. Done with reporters, done with a few teammates who’d come to wish him well. Done with Mom’s buzzing anxiety in the background.

He supposed that’s why Dad had disappeared a few minutes ago. They had enough tension between them, Mom sighing and wringing her hands over the amount of people in the room was probably overwhelming.

“Mom, you can go now. It’s over.”

Mom managed a paltry smile. “I’m sorry. Is it any wonder your father and I got divorced? I never could stand all this attention.”

“Well, it was hardly the only reason.”

“Yes. There were a legion.” She paused, moving to stand closer. “I’m sorry you ever thought you were one of them,” she said quietly, her hand clasping around his arm—a little awkward, but an attempt nonetheless.

“Let’s save that for another time.”

“Of course, I just… Your father mentioned the possibility of a woman and I hated to think you might be…hesitant because of…things.”

Dan thought his head couldn’t hurt any more. “Believe it or not, I was not the hesitant party.”

Mom’s forehead furrowed in confusion. “Oh, how odd.”

“I know I’m a rather charming SOB, Mom, but it’s not that crazy someone wouldn’t be head over heels for me.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” She nodded toward a space by the door. “I thought perhaps she was here to try to convince you.”

Dan felt as though he’d just been checked headfirst into the plexiglass. Everything seemed fuzzy and not quite focused, muffled.

The woman Mom nodded toward was tall, brunette. Sharp nose, full mouth. Freckles on her nose and fear in her hazel eyes.

It took at least a minute for all the pieces to align themselves into sense. Probably because Mel being in Chicago was just out of the box enough to make zero sense, but she’d thrown in a dress.

An honest-to-God dress, but her hair was still in a braid, and she wasn’t wearing heels. Her makeup wasn’t any more jarring than it’d been that night she’d shown up at the cabin demanding sex.

Which he really needed to not think about right now—except he couldn’t think at all. How was she here, standing in a doorway of a Chicago media room, let alone why?

“I have to go,” Dan managed, his voice rusty. But he didn’t take his eyes off Mel, who was talking to Dad. Awkward discomfort came off her in waves.

Everything inside of him wanted to go over and sweep her away. Back to his apartment. Back to Blue Valley, anywhere where he could…

Yeah, none of that.
I don’t believe in you
. He had to focus in on that moment, not the one when her hazel eyes met his across the room, so many emotions swirling under the nerves that he wasn’t sure he could say where he was, let alone what day it was.

“Yes, I think that’d be a good idea. Your father will handle anyone else who wants to talk. And, I think we’ll assume you’ll be busy this evening.”

He forced himself to look away from Mel, even though it was physically painful. But he trained his eyes on Mom. “I may not be.”

Mom laughed, and he thought how odd it was he couldn’t remember the last time she’d sounded so natural. She pushed him toward Mel and, well…

Maybe he would not be busy this evening, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to at least listen to her. She had come all this way.

All
this way. What the hell was she doing?

She said something to Dad then stepped toward him. They met in the middle of the room, surrounded by all these people…people he barely cared about outside his parents.

And her.

“Hi,” she offered, clutching a colorful purse that seemed so incongruent to Mel he didn’t know what was happening. Was that even her? All meek-voiced and in that weird getup?

“That’s quite an outfit.” He’d wince at the asshole greeting if he didn’t so clearly remember the last time he’d seen her. Running away.

“I…borrowed most of this from Summer,” she said, waving awkwardly at herself. “Your Dad suggested I come here. I mean, Chicago was my idea, but when I talked to him about how to find you, he said here. That way you could…you know, ignore me if you didn’t want to talk to me, and he’d give me a ride back to the airport.”

“You talked to my dad?”

“I talked to a lot of people. It wasn’t easy figuring out where you’d be and if I’d be able to see you.”

He wasn’t warmed by that. He wasn’t affected by that at all. No, sir. “So. Why’d you do all that?”

Mel looked around the room, and there were a handful of people looking right back. Probably wondering who the strange woman talking to Dan Sharpe was.

“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered, taking her elbow and immediately regretting it. He wanted to curl his entire hand around her arm, feel the smooth muscle underneath, haul her to him and forget that past week had gotten so fucked up.

But that solved nothing. Certainly not her, and she was the one who needed solving. He’d been right and she’d been…

Scared.

Well, like he wasn’t?

Still, he steered her out of the room, out of the building, to the VIP parking lot and his rental car, if only because as soon as they got to his car, he wouldn’t have to lead her. He could let go. Not that he was affected by simply touching her. Not that it made him desperate for her. Not in the least.

Breaking that connection was relief not…pain. The pain had been in her walking away.

“Get in,” he instructed, sliding into the driver’s seat. He waited almost a full minute, all but holding his breath, before she finally opened the passenger door and slid in. Her dress edged up her thighs.

“You know that’s not fair.”

“What?”

“Your legs.”

She smoothed a hand over her skirt, looking somehow sheepish and pleased. “I…I didn’t want to seem out of place.”

“You are out of place.”
I’m
out of place, he wanted to say, but he kept that in. “Why are you here, Mel?”

She took a deep breath, then shifted in her seat so she was facing him. “I’m here because I’m sorry. And I love you.”