Cowboy Take Me Away (28 page)

“Angela’s coming in later. She and I can take care of things around here. Go
home
.”

“I can’t go home. I have things to do here. I have things…” Shannon stood there helplessly, hot tears burning behind her eyes. Finally she collapsed to her desk chair and dropped her head to her hands, praying she wasn’t going to cry all over again.

“This was my fault,” she said, her voice shaky. “I depended too much on him. I should never have done that. I knew he was going to be gone someday, and still I did it.”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Tears welled up in Shannon’s eyes. She nodded, and those tears trickled down her cheeks.

Freddie Jo came to sit in the chair next to her desk. “Luke’s a good man. I don’t care what happened last night. You’re right to love him. And I know he loves you, too.”

“No, he doesn’t. If he loved me, he wouldn’t leave.”

“He’s has to go to Denver. But he’ll be back.”

Freddie Jo didn’t understand. She didn’t understand what Luke had been through, suffering pain so deep he might hold on to it forever. And Shannon couldn’t explain it to her.

“No,” she said. “He won’t be back. And I don’t know what to do without him. How to get things done. How to live from one minute…to the next…without him…”

Her voice choked up, and tears spilled down her face again. Freddie Jo tilted her head sympathetically. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry about all this.”

Shannon nodded.

“You probably didn’t close your eyes at all last night. Go home. Get some more sleep and things will look better.”

“I can’t. There’s just so much to
do
…”

“Angela and I will take care of everything. Please, sweetie. Go
home
.”

But if she went home now, what about tomorrow? Would things be better then, or was she going to feel like this forever?

Finally she rose from her chair. She grabbed her purse from her desk drawer and left the shelter. She went back to her apartment, where she lay down on the sofa, her head feeling as if it was going to explode. Goliath came over and stuck his nose under her hand, letting out a tiny whimper. Dogs knew. They always knew when something was wrong. He climbed up on the sofa and put his chin on her thigh, his mile-long legs hanging over the side.

She couldn’t imagine never again seeing Luke toss hay to the horses, or throw balls to the dogs, or just walk around the place with Fluffy at his side. Before he showed up, she couldn’t imagine needing anybody the way she needed him, and now that he was gone…

She picked up her phone. Sent him a text message. Too little, too late, she knew, but she wanted to touch him in some way one last time. And she’d do it a hundred times over if she thought it would make a difference, if she thought it would ever bring him back to her. But she knew now that some hurts went soul deep and couldn’t be washed away by anyone or anything.

She tossed her phone aside and closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep so it would all go away, if only for a little while.

On his way out of town, Luke stopped at the Pic ’N Go one last time. He knew Myrna might have turned against him by now, but he refused to let everything positive he’d created with her and Todd be destroyed because of what had happened last night.

He pulled up next to the building, glad there were no other customers in sight. When he went into the store, Myrna looked over from the cash register.

“Heard you had a rough night last night,” she said.

Luke’s stomach churned with apprehension. “Yes, ma’am. I hit Russell Morgensen and got arrested.”

“Did he need hittin’?”

Luke blinked with surprise. Russell Morgensen? Yeah, he needed hittin’. And far more times than Luke had done it. But what mattered to Luke wasn’t the act, it was the aftermath. The sheriff. Everybody looking on. Jail. That horrible confrontation with Shannon at his father’s house.

“Whether he did or he didn’t,” Luke said, “I never should have done it.”

“If you hit him, I’m sure you had a good reason.”

Luke felt an almost palpable sense of relief. Of all the people in Rainbow Valley, Myrna Schumaker was the last one he would have expected to take his side about anything. In fact, after last night, she might be the last ally he had in this town.

“Just wanted to stop by to tell you I’m leaving town,” Luke said. “Getting on the road to Denver.”

“The bull riding championship?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She put several snacks into a bag and shoved them at Luke. “For the road,” she said. “On the house. No arguments.”

Luke took the bag. Then he knelt down and Todd rushed over to give him a hug. Luke closed his eyes as the little boy wrapped his hands around his neck, his heart breaking. He wondered if the day would ever come when he’d become the father he’d always wanted to be. In the last few weeks, it had felt like a dream within his reach. Now it seemed a million miles away.

Barney trotted over. Luke patted his head. “You take care of Barney now,” he told Todd.

Todd nodded. “Will you come back to see us? We can go to another rodeo.”

Luke felt a stab of longing. “Maybe someday, buddy.” He stood up. “Good-bye, Mrs. Schumaker.”

“Good-bye, Luke. And good luck.”

She turned and walked back behind the counter. Luke left the store, and when he got into his truck, he looked back to see Todd and Barney standing by the window. Luke hoped Todd would remember him as the guy who took him to a rodeo and got him a dog, not the guy who proved one more time that the son of the devil was alive and well and his legend wasn’t just a legend after all.

Russell stood on Cynthia’s front porch, checking the address to make sure he had the right place. Then again, was there really any question? Flowering plants crawled all over the porch railing, and the front door was painted cherry red. Beside the door sat a pair of wicker chairs with orange cushions so bright they burned his retinas. If Cynthia didn’t live there, another woman in Rainbow Valley was as weird as she was. What were the odds of that?

He knocked. Several seconds later, Cynthia opened the door.

“What are you doing here?” she asked through the screen door.

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

“No? Just
no
?”

“Yes. That’s all.” She started to close the door.

“Wait!” He exhaled, feeling about as humiliated as a man possibly could. But he’d brought it on himself, hadn’t he?

“You were right,” he said, grinding out the words. “About Luke. I caused the fight. I said something awful, he hit me, and I deserved it.”

He waited for the I-told-you-so he knew was coming. Instead, she said nothing.

“I called the sheriff,” he went on. “Dropped the charges. And if I get the chance, I’m going to apologize to Luke.”

And still she said nothing.

“And you were right about me and Shannon, too,” Russell went on. “We’re not right for each other.”

Still nothing. He winced, waiting for her to pile it on, but she didn’t say anything else. Finally he couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“Will you just let me come in for a minute?” he said. “The neighbors are starting to stare. You can’t see them doing it, but this is Rainbow Valley. Trust me—they’re staring.”

Cynthia looked undecided, her brows drawn together thoughtfully. Finally she opened the door and Russell came inside.

And he couldn’t believe what he saw.

It was as if he’d walked into a flea market for people with color blindness. The walls were pale pink. The ceiling was yellow. The scuffed hardwood floors beneath his feet had probably looked pretty good approximately a hundred years ago. A cracked Tiffany lamp sat on a carved wooden end table decorated with hand-painted lime green curly cues. A carved wooden bowl sat in the middle of her coffee table, filled with Starlight mints. And it was as if all of it had been thrown inside a gigantic blender and somebody had pushed the button.

On a nearby chair, two black and white cats were curled up together. Then he saw Jessie, who was perched on the top of an odd piece of furniture he couldn’t have guessed the purpose of. She looked down at him, then turned up her snooty pink nose and blatantly ignored him. As his gaze circled the room, he could feel his own nose crinkling.

“I’m betting you’re Eve’s best customer,” he said.

Cynthia frowned. “I know you didn’t mean that as a compliment, but I’m not going to take offense. You just don’t know what cozy and comfortable look like.” She paused. “Poor thing.”

“I’m not a poor thing!
You’re
a poor thing!”

“That’s mean.”

He drew back with disbelief. “You called me a poor thing first!”

“But my ‘poor thing’ was sympathy, because cozy and comfy are very nice things and you don’t even know what they are. Your ‘poor thing’ was you looking down your nose at me. Is it because you grew up with that silver spoon in your mouth? Because your father is a hotshot heart surgeon and your mother sells luxury homes to gazillionaires? And I’m just a little nobody from a nothing town with an average job and an average house and—”

“You said you weren’t going to take offense.”

“I changed my mind.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, all
right
. It’s just that I hate being around a mess. I don’t know why. I just do.”

“I know you do. But that’s too bad, because I like messes. I may even mess up your files a little, just because.”

“Don’t you
dare
touch my files!”

“As long as I can find stuff, what difference does it make? Oh, yeah—I don’t work for you anymore.”

“What would it take to get you to come back?”

The moment the words slipped out of his mouth, he wanted to stuff them back in. He hadn’t meant to say that, or at least not blurt it out. What was it about her that made him do things he’d never intended to?

“Well, you might start by asking me,” Cynthia said.

Asking
her?

This woman was tying his brain into a knot. He started to walk out the door until he could unravel it and get back in control again, only to imagine showing up to the office tomorrow and seeing her empty desk. No stuffed rabbit. No ceramic frog. No Jessie curled up between them. And just a little bit of panic welled up inside him.

He cleared his throat. “Will you come back?”

She shrugged offhandedly. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ll
think
about it?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Well, no, not exactly—”

“Then I’ll think about it.”

No. He didn’t want her to think about it. The more she thought about it, the more likely she was to come to the conclusion that he wasn’t worth it and that she wanted to work someplace else, and then she’d be gone for good.

“If you come back,” he said, “of course you can bring Jessie back, too.”

“But you don’t like her.”

He sighed. “No. I do like her. I mean, how could I not? She’s the nicest cat alive. Cats don’t come any nicer than Jessie.”

“She barfs.”

He shrugged. “I hear cats do that.”

“Then why do you make ugly faces at her?”

“Because she doesn’t like
me
.” He looked away. “I don’t deal well with rejection.”

“I know. I heard you talking to your mother the other day.”

Russell whipped around. “What?”

“When you were on the phone with her, inviting her to come for a visit.”

“You
eavesdropped
?”

She pursed her lips. “Don’t you think we’re a little past all the righteous indignation?”

Russell had never realized it before, but knotted brains
hurt
.

“I’m guessing your parents probably aren’t coming anytime soon,” Cynthia said.

She was right. They weren’t. But hearing her say it out loud made him feel worse than he had in a long, long time.

“Do they think it was weird for you to open a practice in Rainbow Valley?” Cynthia asked. “Is that the problem?”

“Truthfully, with them, there’s really no approval or disapproval where I’m concerned. It’s as if they wrote me off a long time ago, like a failed experiment.” He sighed. “Good thing, because I never would have gotten through medical school.”

“So why would you even consider it?”

“Because that’s what Morgensen men do. My father is all about hearts, even though he doesn’t have one. My grandfather was a heart surgeon, too. But to tell you the truth, I had a tough time even getting through dental school. Med school would have been a disaster.”

A wave of depression overcame him, so he sat down on Cynthia’s overstuffed sofa and sank halfway to China. He tried to rescue himself, but it was pointless. Finally he just gave up and slumped like a rag doll. He hoped he didn’t look as forlorn as he felt, but stuck in her sofa the way he was, how could he not?

“I didn’t want to be a heart surgeon. It just wasn’t in me. But there was a time when I would have given anything if it had been.”

Cynthia sat down next to him. “No. You should go with what you’re good at. And you’re a good dentist.”

“Right. Do you know I graduated in the bottom one-fourth of my class?” He closed his eyes. “I have no idea why I told you that.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still very good at what you do.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your hands,” she said.

“What about my hands?”

“Every time you pick up a drill, it’s like…” She looked away, rolling her eyes self-consciously. “No. It sounds stupid.”

“No! It’s not stupid!” He leaned closer, like a starving animal digging through a Dumpster, looking for that one morsel of food that would keep him alive. “Tell me.”

She gave him a little shrug. “I don’t know. It’s like a musician playing a violin, or an artist painting a portrait. When you’re doing a filling or a root canal or whatever, you have so much skill and precision. And even though you don’t have the best chair-side manner—”

“I don’t?”

“You’re too businesslike. Anyway…” She traced her fingertip over the back of his hand, sending shivers straight up his arm. “…you have these beautiful hands that are perfect for the job. Your patients think you’re an excellent dentist.”