Tall, Dark and Cowboy Page 6

  Hopefully she wouldn’t be stuck here more than a day. She needed to move on. Once the car was fixed, she’d stock up on supplies with the credit card, get a nice cash advance, and find a place in Denver she could rent by the week. There would be a lot more job opportunities in Denver, and the whole hiding-in-a-small-town plan was stupid anyway. It would be a lot easier to disappear in a city.

  She hummed a few bars of “Footloose” while Sinclair watered a wall, then headed back to the motel, moving a little more efficiently now that the dog had laid claim to most of Main Street.

  “You’re going to have to stay in the room,” she said, unlocking the door. “No barking, okay?” Dumping a cup of kibble onto a paper plate on the floor and hooking the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the doorknob, she trotted down the steps and across the street to the café.

  Judging from the homespun ambiance and the heavenly scent of bacon, she’d found the town’s breakfast mecca. The long, narrow space was simply decorated and very clean, with old-fashioned vinyl booths lined up against the windows and a long Formica-topped counter. It was empty except for a heavyset waitress in a salmon-colored dress and crisp white apron who greeted Lacey with a smile that lit up her ordinary features into glowing, homespun prettiness.

  “Oh my God. Lacey Bradford.” The smile widened, and the woman’s eyes gleamed with something that looked suspiciously like tears.

  Happy tears.

  How did this woman know who she was? And why would anyone be that glad to see her? Lacey did a quick double take, covering her confusion with the all-purpose mask she’d worn at Trent’s cocktail parties. The woman swiped at her eyes, and suddenly recognition dawned.

  “Pam,” Lacey said. “You’re Pam Caldwell. Did you come out here with your brother?”

  “I came out here a few years earlier,” Pam said, still smiling. “After—you know.”

  Lacey did know. She remembered Pam hunching over her pregnant belly, making her way through the halls of Conway High amid the whispers and sneers of the other students. Lacey had never joined in the general condemnation, but she’d never done anything to stop it either—and when Pam disappeared from classes a few weeks later, she’d never given the girl a second thought.

  “This was my uncle’s place. I came out here to work for him and raise Annie. After he died, his wife wanted to move to Florida, so I took over. Then Chase came out and bought the ranch after the farm—after Dad—you know.”

  A brief flicker of pain crossed Pam’s face so quickly Lacey might have imagined it, and then the smile returned.

  “You’ve come to see Chase! That’s so great. The best thing that could have happened.”

  “I—no, I’m sorry. I didn’t come to see Chase. Not really. I…”

  “Sure you didn’t.” Pam slapped her arm playfully with her stack of menus. “What the heck else would bring you to Grady?”

  Lacey opened her mouth and closed it again. She didn’t have an answer for that.

  Pam rested one hip against the table and pulled an order pad out of the apron pocket. “So have you seen him?”

  “Yeah. He’s—grown.”

  Pam laughed. “Yeah, I guess he has. Hasn’t changed much, though. Not since—you know.”

  “Since what?”

  “Since the whole thing with you, and your husband, and losing the farm.”

  “Me? My husband?” Lacey slid into a vinyl-covered booth, glad there was a place right handy to sit before she fell down. “Oh.”

  No wonder Chase seemed so bitter and angry. She hadn’t made the connection before, but it should have been obvious there was a link between her husband’s nefarious dealings and the fact that Chase wasn’t living out his destiny on the Caldwell farm.

  She swallowed, her throat suddenly as dry as the dusty street outside. “I didn’t know what Trent was doing. Honestly. I didn’t.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. Water under the bridge. For me, anyway. Chase might be another story. You talk to him?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Yeah, he’s not the forgive-and-forget type.” She tightened her lips in disapproval. “He has to blame somebody. Can’t just face the fact that shit happens.”

  “But it shouldn’t have happened. My husband was a crook.” Something about Pam’s frank assessment of the situation loosened Lacey’s tongue and made her feel like getting the whole thing off her chest. “I didn’t know. Didn’t realize…”

  “Well, it wasn’t you, was it? You were just married to the guy.”

  “I divorced him.”

  “Good for you.” Pam lifted her fist in a girl-power salute. “Hope you took him to the cleaners.”

  “I-I guess I did. But I was living in the house, living off his money. I shouldn’t. It’s dirty money.”

  “His dirty money. I suspect you earned it.”

  Lacey thought back to her life with Trent—the long, empty afternoons behind the desk, greeting people, answering the phone. When she was in high school, she’d felt so smart, so official, answering the phone in a clipped, professional tone on weekday evenings and all day Saturday, scheduling appointments and describing properties to potential buyers. She loved real estate. It was a way to help people, find them homes, make their lives complete.

  But when she’d wanted to do more, Trent had said no. He wouldn’t even let her file papers. She suspected he’d married her because she was so young—and so foolishly dazzled by his wealth that she never asked where it came from. Never asked any questions at all.

  “I guess I did earn it. But I still feel guilty about what he did.”

  “Well, I know how you could pay it back.” Pam grinned. “Try and snap my brother out of his funk. All he thinks about is getting back what he lost. Building that ranch of his. The guy needs a life.” She gave Lacey a perky grin. “And a woman.”

  “He’s got a woman.”

  “Really? That’s news to me.” She widened her eyes and smacked her forehead with one hand. “Don’t tell me it’s Krystal.”

  “Yeah, I guess they’re engaged.”

  Pam gave her an incredulous stare. “Is that what she told you?”

  “Nope. He told me.”

  “No way.” Pam tapped her pencil on the order pad and frowned. Lacey could swear there was steam coming out of her ears, and her face was turning red. “It must have been self-defense.”

  “Self-defense?”

  “Against you. He’s probably scared to death you’ll break his heart again.” The smile disappeared. “You won’t, will you?”

  “I…” Lacey felt color flooding her face. “No. I wouldn’t do that. What do you mean, again? We were just friends, Pam.”

  “Not to Chase, you weren’t. Are you telling me you didn’t know how he felt about you?” Pam set her fists on her hips. “No way.”

  Lacey scrambled through her repertoire of polite responses for an answer, but Pam wagged the pencil at her like an angry schoolmarm.

  “My brother’s been in love with you since sixth grade. You didn’t know that? He was just waiting to make his move—the dummy. When you got married, he realized maybe he’d waited a little too long.”

  Lacey opened her mouth, then closed it.

  “Okay, you didn’t know that.”

  “No,” Lacey said. “I didn’t.”

  A male voice called from the pass-through window behind the counter.

  “She want anything, Pam? ’Cause I’m thinking ’bout a break.” A man peered through, his face flushed from the heat, his head wrapped in a red bandanna.

  Pam flashed an annoyed scowl toward the pass-through.

  “I’ll have eggs,” Lacey said. “Scrambled. And do I smell bacon?”

  Pam nodded. “Toast or pancakes?”

  “Whole wheat toast. Dry, please.”

  “Our pancakes are better.” Pam winked. “And if you’re worried about eating right, just remember—maple syrup comes from a plant. That makes it a vegetable.”

  “You’re right.” Pam’
s good cheer was contagious, and Lacey had no reason to stay model skinny anymore. Trent had liked her that way, but now she didn’t have anyone to please but herself.

  “So how long are you staying?” Pam asked.

  “Just long enough to get my car fixed. Chase said the Quick Lube could do it.”

  “Good luck with that.” Pam grinned. “If you need anything more than an oil change, Jeb’ll probably have to order the manual. He’s not the brightest bulb, and I don’t think he’s got much of a mechanic over there since Don Morris graduated and left for college.”

  “Oh.”

  “So if you didn’t come for Chase, what brought you here?”

  Lacey cursed her pale skin, knowing the flush rising up her neck was clearly visible.

  “You did come for Chase. I knew it.”

  “No. I mean—I knew he was here, and I thought it would be nice to go somewhere where I knew someone. Do you remember Wade Simpson?”

  “Do I ever. That kid was psycho.”

  “Well, now he’s a cop. And he had something to do with Trent’s deals, somehow. He was—he was making my life pretty difficult, and then Trent disappeared, and I couldn’t get a job because everybody hates me because of what he did. I figured it would be best to just go. Start over someplace fresh.”

  “God, Lacey, that’s awful.”

  “Not really. It’s been kind of—well, fun.”

  Pam arched a disbelieving eyebrow.

  “The traveling, I mean. I feel free.”

  “Well, feel free to spend some time with my brother.”

  “That’s really not what I came here for.”

  She was telling the truth. She hadn’t planned on starting anything with Chase—she just wanted to know she had a friend wherever she ended up. So why was her face so hot all of a sudden?

  “Well, do me a favor,” Pam said. “Stick around and save him from Krystal, would you? Sounds like he’s made things even worse with that woman. It was bad enough he hired her. She used to work over at the Quick Lube, but Jeb wasn’t rich enough for her, so she ditched him and went to work for Chase.”

  “Chase is rich?” Lacey couldn’t hide her skepticism.

  “He owns a ranch.” Pam snorted. “’Course, that pretty much keeps him poor, since he spends every dime he makes on livestock and improvements.” She slid into the opposite side of the booth, sticking her feet under the table and propping them up beside Lacey. They were a working woman’s feet, clad in old-fashioned white nursing shoes and slightly swollen around the ankles. “Krystal’ll put a stop to that if she can, though. She thinks he should tear down that trailer and build one of those glass-front showrooms. She’ll get him to do it, too. Just give her time. That girl gets ’em roped and hog-tied in a heartbeat.”

  “Really?”

  “You seen her?” The woman made a gesture indicating big breasts, then gave Lacey a slow smile. “Although you could give her a run for her money.”

  Lacey looked down at her own fairly modest endowment. She knew she had a good body, but she was hardly as top-heavy as the bodacious Krystal. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re every bit as pretty as she is, and you’ve got a lot more class. And he’s already in love with you.” She shoved the pencil behind her ear. “I’d say you’ve got this game won before you even start.”

  “Well, thanks. I’m not looking to date him, though. I didn’t realize he—we were friends, that’s all, and I thought…” She flushed again.

  Pam tilted her head like a curious bird. “You telling me nothing ever happened between you two?”

  “No. Honest.” Lacey had wondered if Chase’s rudeness stemmed from something she’d done in high school. Now that she knew he’d had a crush on her and then wound up on the losing end of her husband’s high-stakes real estate game, she realized his resentment didn’t come from some minor teenaged snub.

  No, he flat-out hated her, and he had a good reason. Pam’s scheme was doomed before it even started.

  Maybe changing the subject would steer the woman’s sisterly determination in some other direction.

  “So when did your brother turn into a cowboy?” she asked.

  “Oh, he’s always been into that.”

  “I thought he was into goats.”

  Pam waved a dismissive hand. “Goats are a lot cheaper to raise than horses, and frankly, that farm of Dad’s wasn’t big enough to do what Chase wanted. Land back East is too expensive.” She looked thoughtful. “My hardheaded brother never would have sold the damn place and moved out here on his own. What happened gave him a boot in the butt—and he needed that. He’s living his dream, but all he can think about is what happened to Dad.”

  “Losing the farm?”

  “That, and Dad—he, um, died right after.” She looked down at her lap, momentarily sobered. “Chase blames your husband for that too.” She raised a hand to halt Lacey’s response. “He shouldn’t, I know, but he does. It’s easier than blaming himself for not stepping up and stopping the sale. He was in Iraq when it happened. It happened so fast, he probably couldn’t have done a thing about it—but Chase sees himself as being responsible for everything, and the guilt’s eating him up inside.”

  “He was in Iraq?” Lacey had no idea Chase had ever deviated from his single-minded ambition to raise quality goats.

  “Yeah. You know my brother. Gotta save the world.”

  “No wonder he seems so different. Did something happen over there?”

  “Something happened over here. I think his heart’s broken. And I think you’re the one person who can help him.”

  Lacey shook her head and slumped her shoulders. “Yeah, right. I’ve never helped anybody in my life. I wouldn’t even know how to start. I’m a trophy wife. The Southern version of Paris Hilton.” She sighed and waved one hand in a languid Blanche DuBois gesture. “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”

  “Maybe you just haven’t had a chance to help anyone.” Pam leaned forward, her expression earnest. “This is it—your chance to do good. You ought to go talk to Chase again.” The smile returned, dimpling her cheeks. “Plus, you and I could be friends. I always thought you were so pretty and cool.”

  Lacey looked down at the table. “I wasn’t a very nice person. If I was, we would have been friends back then.”

  “You were nice, though.” Pam sounded downright defensive, as if Lacey had insulted her best friend. “You were nice to everybody. Half of us girls wanted to hate you, because you were so pretty, but you were sweet.” She cocked her head and met Lacey’s eyes. “You still are. I can tell.”

  “Thanks.” A rush of gratitude relaxed Lacey’s shoulders and cleared her head. It felt good to talk to someone real about real things. Most of her friends back in Tennessee had been “ladies who lunched,” and their conversations were endless rounds of one-upmanship revolving around topics like who had dropped the most money at the boutiques in Memphis, whose kid had made the lacrosse team at the local private school, and who had paid the most for a haircut, color, and highlights. Lacey bought most of her clothes online because Trent didn’t like her to drive into the city, and for some reason they hadn’t had any kids, so those discussions were actually kind of painful. And she was perfectly happy with the reddish glints in her natural brown hair, so hair color was out as a topic of conversation.

  But she felt like she could talk to Pam about anything.

  “Stick around,” Pam said. “You might like it here. And besides, Chase needs you.”

  Lacey gave her a rueful smile. “He doesn’t need me. Not anymore. I needed him.”

  “And he let you down, didn’t he?”

  Lacey shrugged. “He’s mad. I don’t blame him.”

  “Good.” Pam rocked to her feet and shoved the order pad in her pocket as if sheathing her sword. “Then give him another chance.”

  Chapter 9

  Lacey turned to the window as Pam headed back to the kitchen, watching as Chase paced the rows of pickups, poli
shing a fender here, wiping a windshield there. He was wearing cowboy boots and a pair of beat-up Wranglers that stretched taut over his behind as he shoved the rag in his back pocket and climbed the steps to the trailer. Instead of yesterday’s snap-button shirt, he was wearing a light blue T-shirt with a bucking horse kicking up its heels on the back. She squinted. District Ten Rodeo read the lettering under the picture.

  She’d never been to the rodeo back in Conway. It just wasn’t something the cool kids did. Except for confirmed hicks like Chase, everybody she knew back home wanted to shed Tennessee’s redneck cowboy image and be cosmopolitan. A few people wore cowboy hats, but it was a Nashville thing—an act. She’d always preferred the guys who wore football helmets.

  But looking at Chase now, she decided being a cowboy wasn’t such a bad thing. She couldn’t remember his shoulders being that broad, and the muscles that flexed under his shirt as he opened the trailer door were definitely a new development. She wondered again what he’d look like with that shirt stripped off.

  I think you could help him, Pam had said.

  Yeah, right. She could help him. Help him right out of his clothes.

  Oh, Lord. What was happening to her? She’d never been this sex-crazed when she was married. Bedding Trent had been a duty, not a pleasure. He was a good-looking man, but he grunted and closed his eyes once things got under way, absorbed in his own pleasure. He took what he wanted and was so intent on getting it, she suspected it didn’t really matter who was naked in his bed so long as she was female and cooperative. The only time he actually wanted Lacey was when he could show her off to someone else.

  “Hon?”

  Lacey flicked her gaze to Pam, who stood over her with a plate bearing breakfast.

  “Sorry. Daydreaming.”

  Pam gave her a knowing smile as she set the food on the table. “Sure you are. Krystal has that daydream too, but you just might have what it takes to make it come true.”