Take Me, Cowboy (16 page)

“Do you love me yet?”

He looked stricken. “What do you want me to say?”

“You know what I want you to say.”

“You want me to lie?”

She felt like he had taken a knife and stabbed her directly through the heart. She could barely breathe. Could barely stand straight. This was... This was her worst fear come true. To open herself up so completely, to make herself so entirely vulnerable and to have it all thrown back in her face.

But in that moment, she recognized that she was untouchable from here on out. Because there was nothing that could ever, ever come close to this pain. Nothing that could ever come close to this risk.

How had she missed this before? How had she missed that failure could be such a beautiful, terrible, freeing experience?

It was the worst. Absolutely the worst. But it also broke chains that had been binding her for years. Because if someone had asked her what she was so afraid of, this would have been the answer. And she was in it. Living it. Surviving it.

“I love you,” she repeated. “This is your chance. Listen to me, Chase McCormack, I am giving you a chance. I'm giving you a chance to stop being so afraid. A chance to walk out of the darkness. We've walked through it together for a long time. So I'm asking you now to walk out of it with me. Please.”

He backed away from the truck, his jaw tense, a muscle there twitching.

“Coward,” she spat as he turned and walked away from her. Walked away from them. Walked back into the damned darkness.

And she got in her truck and started the engine, driving away from him, driving away from the things she wanted most in the entire world.

She didn't cry until she got home. But then, once she did, she was afraid she wouldn't stop.

Fourteen

S
he was going to lose the bet. That was the safest thought in Anna's head as she stood in her bedroom the night of the charity event staring at the dress that was laid across her bed.

She was going to have to go there by herself. And thanks to the elaborate community theater production of their relationship everyone would know that they had broken up, since Chase wouldn't be with her. She almost laughed.

She was facing her fears all over the place, whether she wanted to or not.

Facing fears and making choices.

She wasn't going to be with Chase at the gala tonight. Wasn't going to win her money. But she had bought an incredibly slinky dress, and some more makeup. Including red lipstick. She had done all of that for him. Though in many ways it was for her, too. She had wanted that experience. To go, to prove that she was grown-up. To prove that she had transcended her upbringing and all of that.

She frowned. Was she really considering dressing differently just because she wasn't going to be with Chase?

Screw that. He might have filleted her heart and cooked it like those hideous charred Brussels sprouts cafés tries to pass off as a fancy appetizer, but he
wasn't
going to take his lessons from her. She had learned confidence. She had learned that she was stronger than she thought. She had learned that she was beautiful. And how to care. Like everything inside her had been opened up, for better or for worse. But she would never go back. No matter how bad it hurt, she wouldn't go back.

So she wouldn't go back now, either.

As she slipped the black dress over her curves, laboring over the makeup on her face and experimenting with the hairstyle she had seen online, she could only think how much harder it was to care about things. All of these things. It had been so much easier to embrace little pieces of herself. To play the part of another son for her father and throw herself into activities that made him proud, ignoring her femininity so that she never made him uncomfortable.

All of these moments of effort came at a cost. Each minute invested revealing more and more of her needs. To be seen. To be approved of.

But there were so many other reasons she had avoided this. Because this—she couldn't help but think as she looked in the mirror—looked a lot like trying. It looked a lot like caring. That was scary. It was hard.

Being rejected when you had given your best effort was so much worse than being rejected when you hadn't tried at all.

This whole being-a-woman thing—a whole woman who wanted to be with a man, who loved a man—it was hard. And it hurt.

She looked at her reflection, her eyes widening. Thanks to the smoky eye shadow her green eyes glowed, her lips looking extra pouty with the dark red color on them. She looked like one of the old screen legends she loved so much. Very Elizabeth Taylor, really.

This was her best effort. And yes, it was only a dress, and this was just looks, but it was symbolic.

She was going to lay it all on the line, and maybe people would laugh. Because the tractor mechanic in a ball gown was too ridiculous for words. But she would take the risk. And she would take it alone.

She picked up the little clutch purse that was sitting on her table. The kind of purse she'd always thought was impractical, because who wanted a bag you had to hold in your hand all night? But the salesperson at the department store had told her it went with her dress, and that altogether she looked flawless, and Anna had been in desperate need of flattery. So here she was with a clutch.

It
was
impractical. But she
did
look great.

Of course, Chase wouldn't be there to see it. She felt her eyes starting to fill with tears and she blinked, doing her best to hold it all back. She was not going to smear her makeup. She had already put it all out there for him. She would be damned if she undid all this hard work for him, too.

With that in mind, Anna got into her truck and drove herself to the ball.

* * *

“Hey, jackass,” Sam shouted from across the shop. “Are you going to finish with work anytime today?”

Okay, so maybe Chase had thrown himself into work with a little more vehemence than was strictly necessary since Anna had walked out of his life.

Anna.
Anna had walked out of his life. Over something as stupid as love.

If love was so stupid, it wouldn't make your insides tremble like you were staring down a black bear.

He ignored his snarky internal monologue. He had been doing a lot of that lately. So many arguments with himself as he pounded iron at the forge. That was, when he wasn't arguing with Sam. Who was getting a little bit tired of him, all things considered.

“Do I look like I'm finished?” he shouted back.

“It's nine o'clock at night.”

“That's amazing. When did you learn to tell time?”

“I counted on my fingers,” Sam said, wandering deeper into the room. “So, are we just going to pretend that Anna didn't run out of your house wearing only a T-shirt the other morning?”

“I'm going to pretend that my older brother doesn't Peeping Tom everything that happens in my house.”

“We live on the same property. It's bound to happen. I was on my way here when I saw her leaving. And you chasing after her. So I'm assuming you did the stupid thing.”

“I told her that I couldn't be in a relationship with her.” That was a lie. He had done so much more than that. He had torn both of their hearts out and stomped them into the ground. Because Sam was right, he was an idiot. But he had made a concerted effort to be a safe idiot.

How's that working for you?

“Right. Why exactly?”

“Look, the sage hermit thing is a little bit tired. You don't have a social life, I don't see you with a wife and children, so maybe you don't hang out and lecture me.”

“Isn't tonight that thing?” Sam seemed undeterred by Chase's rudeness.

“What thing?”

“The charity thing that you were so intent on using to get investors. Because the two of us growing our family business and restoring the former glory of our hallowed ancestors is so important to you. And exploiting my artistic ability for your financial gain.”

“Change of plans.” He grunted, moving a big slab of iron that would eventually be a gate to the side. “I'm just going to keep working. We'll figure this out without schmoozing.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

“Just shut up. If you can't do anything other than stand there looking vaguely amused at the fact that I'm going through a personal crisis, then you can go straight to hell without passing Go or collecting two hundred dollars.”

“I'm not going to be able to afford Park Place anyway, because you aren't out there getting new investors.”

“I'm serious, Sam,” Chase shouted, throwing his hammer down on the ground. “It's all fine for you because you hold everyone at a distance.”

Sam laughed. The bastard. “
I
hold everyone at a distance. What do you think you do? What do you think your endless string of one-night stands is?”

“You think I don't know? You think I don't know that it's an easy way to get some without ever having to have a conversation? I'm well aware. But I don't need you standing over there so entertained by the fact that...”

“That you actually got your heart broken?”

Chase didn't have anything to say to that. Every single word in his head evaporated like water against molten metal. He had nothing to say to that because his heart was broken. But Anna wasn't responsible. It was his own fault.

And the only reason his heart was broken was because he...

“Do you know what I said to Dad the day that he died?”

Sam froze. “No.”

No, he didn't. Because they had never talked about it. “The last thing I ever said to him was that I couldn't wait to get away from here. I told him I wasn't going to pound iron for the rest of my life. I was going to get away and go to college. Make something real out of myself. Like this wasn't real.”

“I didn't realize.”

“No. Because I didn't tell you. Because I never told anybody. But that's why I needed to fix this. It's why I wanted to expand this place.”

“So it isn't really to harness my incredible talent?”

“I don't even know what it's for anymore. To what? To make up for what I said to a dead man. And for promises that I made at his grave... He can't hear me. That's the worst thing.”

Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Is that the only reason you're still here?”

“No. I love it here. I really do. I had to get older. I had to put some of my own sweat into this place. But now...I get it. I do. And I care about it because I care about it, not just because they cared about it. Not just because it's a legacy, but because it's worth saving. But...”

“I still remember that day. I mean, I don't just remember it,” Sam said, “it's like it just happened yesterday. That feeling... The whole world changing. Everything falling right down around us. That's as strong in my head now as it was then.”

“How many times can you lose everything?” Chase asked, making eye contact with his brother. “Anna is everything. Or she could be. It was easy when she was just a friend. But...I saw her in my house the other morning cooking me breakfast, wearing my T-shirt. For a second she made me feel like...like that house was our house, and she could be my...my everything.”

“I wouldn't even know what that looked like for me, Chase. If you find that...grab it.”

“And if I lose it?”

“You'll have no one to blame but yourself.”

Chase thought back to the day his parents died. That was a kind of pain he hadn't even known existed. But, as guilty as he had felt, as many promises as he had made at his father's grave site, he couldn't blame himself for their death. It had been an accident. That was the simple truth.

But if he lost Anna now... Pushing her away hadn't been an accident. It was in his control. Fully and absolutely. And if he lost her, then it was on him.

He thought of her face as she had turned away from him, as she had gotten into her truck.

She had trusted him. His prickly Anna had trusted him with her feelings. Her vulnerability. A gift that he had never known her to give to anybody. And he had rejected it. He was no better than he had been as an angry sixteen-year-old, hurtling around the curves of the road that had destroyed his family, daring it to take him, too.

Anna, who had already endured the rejection of a mother, the silent rejection of who she was from her father, had dared to look him in the face and risk his rejection, too.

“I'll do it,” Sam said, his voice rough.

“What?”

“I'm going to start...pursuing the art thing to a greater degree. I want to help. You missed this party tonight and I know it mattered to you...”

“But you hate change,” Chase reminded him.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “But I hate a lot of things. I have to do them anyway.”

“We're still going to have to meet with investors.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I can help with that. You're right. This is why you're the brains and I'm the talent.”

“You're a glorified blacksmith, Sam,” Chase said, trying to keep the tone light because if he went too deep now he might just fall apart.

“With talent. Beyond measure,” Sam said. “At least my brother has been telling me that for years.”

“Your brother is smart.” Though he currently felt anything but.

Sam shrugged. “Eh. Sometimes.” He cleared his throat. “You discovered you cared about this place too late to ever let Dad know. That's sad. But at least Dad knew you cared about him. You know he never doubted that,” Sam said. “But, damn, bro, don't leave it too late to let Anna know you care about her.”

Chase looked at his brother, who was usually more cynical than he was wise, and couldn't ignore the truth ringing in his words.

Anna was the best he'd ever had. And had been for the past fifteen years of his life. Losing her...well, that was just a stupid thing to allow.

But the thing that scared him most right now was that it might already be too late. That he might have broken things beyond repair.

“And if it is too late?” he asked.

“Chase, you of all people know that when something is forged in fire it comes out the other side that much stronger.” His brother's expression was hard, his dark eyes dead serious. “This is your fire. You're in it now. If you let it cool, you lose your chance. So I suggest you get your ass to wherever Anna is right now and you work at fixing this. It's either that or spend your life as a cold, useless hunk of metal that never became a damn thing.”

* * *

It had not gone as badly as she'd feared. It hadn't gone perfectly, of course, but she had survived. The lowest point had been when Wendy Maxwell, who was still angry with Anna over the whole Chase thing, had wandered over to her and made disparaging comments about last season's colors and cuts, all the while implying that Anna's dress was somehow below the height of fashion. Which, whatever. She had gotten the dress on clearance, so it probably was. Anna might care about looking nice, but she didn't give a rat's ass about fashion.

She gave a couple of rat's asses about what had happened next.

Where's Chase?

Her newfound commitment to honesty and emotions had compelled her to answer honestly.

We broke up. I'm pretty upset about it.

The other woman had been in no way sympathetic and had in fact proceeded to smug all over the rest of the conversation. But she wasn't going to focus on the low.

The highs had included talking to several people whom she was going to be working with in the future. And getting two different phone numbers. She had made conversation. She had felt...like she belonged. And she didn't really think it had anything to do with the dress. Just with her. When you had already put everything out there and had it rejected, what was there to fear beyond that?