The Cowboy Earns a Bride (Cowboys of Chance Creek Book 8) (12 page)

He wouldn’t be able to front Mia much money for this new business she wanted, which made him angry all over again. He wasn’t sure she’d find enough clients in Chance Creek, anyway, and they couldn’t afford to throw good money after bad.

Still, if it was a business she wanted he’d try to help her. Anything to make her happy—to convince her to give him a second shot. A new thought occurred to him—what if she didn’t come back? He shook his head. She had to come back. He loved her. One night with her in his bed had done nothing to quench his desire for her. When they’d talked of marriage, one thought had been uppermost in his mind: that every night she’d be waiting for him to come home. He liked the thought of her eager for his company, touching him as she served the evening meal, snuggling up close when they watched television afterward, leading him by the hand to their bedroom.

It was selfish. It was old-fashioned. It was probably wrong.

But could anyone blame him?

‡
Chapter Eight

“H
ere you go,”
Hannah said the next day, handing Mia a small suitcase. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I felt like a secret agent slipping into your cabin and rummaging through your things.”

“Thanks for using up your lunch hour to do it,” Mia said. Between work at the Pet Clinic and school, Mia knew Hannah rarely even took lunch, so she’d felt bad about asking her to sneak enough clothing and toiletries out of Luke’s cabin to see her through her exile at Autumn and Ethan’s place.

“That’s all right. Next time I need someone to infiltrate my house I’ll know who to call. I think you might be overreacting, though. You shouldn’t dump Luke over one little fight.”

Not Hannah, too. Everyone seemed to take Luke’s side. Even the people who didn’t come right out and say so made it clear they thought she was crazy to leave him. She knew what they thought: Luke was willing to take care of her, even when her baby wasn’t his, so she should let him. Everyone obviously thought she was incapable of caring for herself, so they didn’t see why she’d turn him down.

“It was a pretty big fight, actually—our ideas about marriage and how we want to live are totally incompatible. He was completely against me starting a business.”

“You are having a baby soon.”

Mia tried not to take it personally, but it really bothered her that no one thought her wedding planner idea was worth a try. No one but Rose, that was. “Don’t you think I can do both?”

Hannah shrugged. “Maybe. But Luke’s going to inherit a quarter of the Double-Bar-K eventually. Think of the lifestyle he could give you and your baby.”

“Jake’s going to inherit, too, but that hasn’t stopped you from pursuing your dreams. Why doesn’t anybody think I can do this? What is it? Am I stupid? Naïve?”

“You’re twenty-one. You’re pregnant. You barely graduated from high school.” Hannah ticked the reasons off on her fingers.

Mia reared back. “Hey! It’s okay for me to say that about myself. It’s not okay for you to go on about it.”

“You asked me a direct question and I gave you a direct answer. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but the way you act is the way people perceive you, Mia. If you go around dressing like a teenager, people will treat you like a teenager. If you make mistakes, like it or not you’ll be judged for those mistakes.”

Mistakes. She’d sure made a lot of them, and she’d suffered for every one. Which was exactly why she’d called Inez and told her she wouldn’t take part in her campaign to get Warner off the beauty pageant judge circuit. Inez hadn’t been happy, of course. Her final words had stayed with Mia all morning, flooding her with shame. “I get it. No one stuck up for you when Warner hurt you. I guess you think you don’t need to stick up for anyone else.”

All she’d get for speaking up would be more judgment, though, and people were judging her enough. Just wait until her belly was as big as Autumn’s had been. The whole town would be talking about her.

Mia scrambled to her feet and made a show of looking at her watch. “You’ll be late getting back to work. Thanks for all your help.”

Hannah sighed. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, Mia. I’m trying to help. If you want to be taken seriously, you need to be serious. Go ahead and prove everyone wrong. I’d like that more than anything. And for what it’s worth, I think you do have what it takes to be a wedding planner, but only if you take it seriously. Stop trying to be such a beauty queen all the time and be a grownup instead.”

Be a grownup. Wasn’t that what she was trying to do? Didn’t grownups provide for themselves? Didn’t they stand up for themselves, too?

Don’t they stand up for others
? a small voice inside asked. She pushed the thought away. She couldn’t take on Warner right now—she just couldn’t.

Mia kept quiet as she showed Hannah to the door, then returned to her room to unpack the bag Hannah had brought. The room was small but pleasant, with a queen-sized bed, desk, dresser and its own bathroom. Its window overlooked pastures that sloped off down to Chance Creek, but at the moment even the gorgeous view couldn’t lift Mia’s spirits.

She thumped the suitcase down on top of the bed and unzipped it, but before she started unpacking she trailed across the room to look in the mirror above the dresser. As much as she hated to admit it, Hannah was right; she did dress young for her age. Today she looked like a teenager, and a rather sullen teenager at that. The beauty queen remark was completely unfair though. She grimaced at her reflection. Or maybe not. It was true she never left the house before she put on her makeup and pulled her waist-length sleek, black hair up into her signature high ponytail. She knew the deceptively schoolgirl look left it swishing seductively with her every movement. Knew too that ponytail fascinated men. She wore clothes that accentuated her figure. She always had.
She’s not too bright, but she’s a looker.
How many times had someone said that about her? Or her favorite:
Don’t worry about your grades, honey; that figure will land you a good husband.

People were right; she’d never done terribly well at school. Her pageant schedule kept her too busy to study much. By the time that ended she had other things on her mind. She was sure she could have done much better if she’d applied herself, but maybe not. She frowned at her reflection. Maybe she was as dumb as everyone thought.

No. She wasn’t going to talk herself down anymore; she had plenty of other people to do that. She had a baby to care for now, which meant it was time to get her act together. Hannah was right. If she wanted people to take her seriously, she needed a new look. She could spend just a little of Ellis’s money on that, couldn’t she?

She met her own gaze in the mirror and nodded firmly. Yes, she could.

Mia hadn’t come
home.

Luke sat on the sofa in the dark in the cabin’s small living room. Once he’d arrived home, exhausted from rushing through his chores, then going to help Amanda Stone with hers, he’d parked himself there, expecting Mia to arrive any minute and explain where she’d been. He hadn’t believed it when she never came home the night before. He’d barely slept a wink, pacing the living room floor until all hours. He’d spent all day hoping she’d finally appear so they could make up, then maybe go out to dinner like he’d planned, or skip all that and go straight to bed. He’d meant to carefully explain his reservations about her wedding planner idea, but tell her he was prepared to be supportive.

He never got the chance. Mia was through with him.

His phone rang at nine and he jumped to answer it, only to find Ethan on the line.

“She’s here,” he said simply. “Thought you’d want to know. She’s packed enough to stay a while.”

Luke couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought to check Mia’s room. Had she snuck back in while he was doing his chores to pack her things? He’d been so sure this was a temporary setback. If he was honest, he’d admit he didn’t think she’d have the guts to leave him for good—not in her situation. In his mind he’d built a whole daydream in which she was the helpless maiden and he was the savior on a big, white horse. Turned out Mia didn’t want saving.

At least not yet.

She’d change her mind, though. She had to. How would she manage once she’d had her baby if he wasn’t there to support her? How would she pay for childcare when her job at the restaurant paid minimum wage? Even if she didn’t love him, she’d see what he had to offer her. A good home. A secure job.

Hell.

Luke surged up off the sofa and paced the room. He didn’t want her to need him—he wanted her to want him. To love him back as much as he loved her. What if she’d thought it over and decided she didn’t? Fifteen minutes later, his mind no clearer, he entered the kitchen and opened the fridge. He hadn’t eaten dinner—hadn’t had time. When he spotted the neatly stacked storage containers of leftovers from the last meal Mia cooked, his heart sunk. What if she never came back?

He reached for one to reheat in the microwave, then spotted a fresh six-pack and grabbed a can instead. Maybe he’d just drink his dinner. At least that way he’d sleep tonight.

He was such a fool. He’d been a lousy fiancé. He’d undercut her the first time she’d shared her dreams with him—bullied her about what she should do with her life.

No wonder she left him high and dry.

Eight hours later, pounding on his door woke him up. Stiff and sore after a night on the couch, he sat up slowly, groaning when he took in the crumpled cans on the sofa, coffee table and floor. His head ached and his tongue was thick in his mouth. Another rough day of work. Another night without Mia. What was the point of going on? A glance out his window told him the predicted snow had fallen and he groaned. He’d have to clear Amanda’s walkway again.

The pounding started up again. “Luke? You in there?”

Jake. For God’s sake, couldn’t his family leave him alone for two minutes? He lurched across the floor, the polished wood smooth and cold beneath his bare feet.

“What?” He opened the door a crack. Jake pushed his way in.

“Jesus, it stinks like a bar in here. What the hell, Luke?”

“Leave me alone.” He turned away, ready to collapse back on the couch.

“It’s five-thirty. You’re late. Dad called me to roust you out of bed.”

Double hell. Late for chores wasn’t a good choice to make on the Double-Bar-K. “Why’d he call you? Why not do it himself?”

“He said he couldn’t talk to you.”

That sobered Luke up in a hurry. Holt unable to talk? That was a first. “You think he’s still mad?”

“I’d say that’s an understatement. Get your shit together and get to the barn. I’m supposed to be helping Evan today. And I’ve got class in a few hours, too.”

“Give me five minutes.” Luke rubbed a hand over his face. Felt the stubble on his jaw. He needed a shower and a shave, but that would have to wait. The critters came first.

Ten minutes later the cold February air cleared the last of the cobwebs from his brain as he hurried through the snow to the barn. Mia hadn’t come home. And she’d given back the engagement ring. Those were drastic steps for her to take. She was serious in her determination to leave him.

And what had he done? Sat on the couch? Gotten drunk? Hell of a way to get her back.

Jake met him halfway. “It’s all yours, buddy. I’m off.”

“What the hell do I do?” He hated the desperation that rang in his voice.

“Feed the damn cows, what do you think…oh, you mean about Mia?” Jake shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “Find out what she wants and give it to her. That’s the easiest way, I’ve found.” He shook his head. “We might be bigger and stronger than them, but we don’t seem to win many arguments. Good luck with that, and by the way—Dad’s taking this not talking thing pretty seriously. Guess he really doesn’t want to go to Paris.”

Luke nodded. “Guess so.” No wonder Holt had bolted yesterday. No wonder he hadn’t stopped by last night to chew him out.

Luke headed back to his cabin several hours later, hoping to find Mia there, but he could tell from fifty feet away she still hadn’t returned. No lights were on inside and the driveway in front was empty of any vehicles except his own. His trip out to Amanda’s place had been for nothing. Her walkway had been clean as a whistle when he reached her house. She’d stepped out to tell him a friend had stopped by and done the work.

Now he stopped in front of the stairs leading up to the cabin, unwilling to encounter the silence inside. The beep of a car’s horn made him jump and he turned to see a Chevy Malibu pull up beside him. He was surprised to find Camila Torres behind the wheel. She rolled down the passenger side window. “I saw you walking and thought I’d come say hi before I stopped by your parents’ house. Is your dad around?”

“Should be,” Luke said. “What do you want him for?”

“Oh, I just thought I’d drop off a couple of enchiladas for your parents’ lunch. You know Holt loves enchiladas.”

Luke scowled. Holt had acquired a taste for Mexican food in recent weeks, an unusual turn of events for a meat and potatoes kind of man. He still wouldn’t admit that any fare at Fila’s Familia was fit to eat, but Luke had seen him consume both Fila’s Afghan food and Camila’s Mexican dishes at the restaurant’s test run with the same relish with which he demolished a steak.