The Loner (8 page)

“Oh, Billy.” Summer could feel how hurt he was by his mother’s criticism, by her utter lack of confidence in him.

“If she wasn’t dying…”

“You’d already be gone,” Summer finished for him.

Billy tugged his hat down lower, and Summer realized he was hiding tears. She put her arm around his shoulder and leaned her cheek against his arm.

As simply as that, the bond that had been broken when Billy had left two years before was mended. Summer knew what he was feeling, and he knew how much she cared, without a word being spoken.

She waited for Billy to tip his hat up again before she said, “Are you going to stay here and take care of your mom?”

“That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question,” he replied. “Your father wants me gone in twenty-four hours, or he’s going to have me fired from my job.”

Summer made a moue of disgust. “My parents are big on ultimatums.”

Billy pulled the stem of grass from his mouth and threw it aside. “Problem is, Blackjack doesn’t just threaten. He follows through. And I need that job.”

The words seemed torn from him, and Summer
looked closely at him, for the first time seeing the strain on his face, the shadows under his eyes, and the gaunt-ness of his cheeks. She laid a hand on his arm and said, “What’s wrong, Billy?”

She felt his muscles tighten under her hand, but he didn’t pull himself free, so she offered him the comfort of her touch and waited.

“I need to head back to Amarillo,” he admitted in a voice that grated with emotion. “But I can’t leave my mom here alone.”

“Your mom isn’t alone. She’s got Emma.”

“Emma’s pregnant. Oh, hell. I didn’t mean to let that slip. Nobody knows. She’s been keeping it a secret.”

“Who’s the father?” Summer asked.

“She won’t tell me. I don’t suppose you know?” he asked, glancing at her.

Summer shook her head. “I haven’t seen her with anyone.”

“What are you doing out here with me?” he asked. “You and your fiancé get into an argument?”

“Geoffrey and I are no longer engaged. I broke up with him last night after we got home.”

He turned to stare at her and she added, “But I might end up marrying him after all.”

“Mind explaining that?”

“My father’s left my mother for good. When he walked out on her last night, she threatened to cut Bitter Creek up into little bitty pieces before she’d let him have it.”

Billy’s arm slid around her shoulders and he pulled her close. “That’s a bad break for you. So where does Geoffrey fit in?”

She grimaced. “Momma doesn’t want the wedding canceled, because she’d lose face with all those important people she’s invited. So she’s offering Bitter Creek to me and Geoffrey as a wedding present. Of course, that means I’d have to marry him after all.”

“Why not marry him?” Billy said, brushing at a leaf that had fallen on the knee of her jeans. “You must love him a little, or you wouldn’t have gotten engaged to him in the first place.”

“I like him a lot.” She shrugged. “I’m just not sure I can ever love him. I think my mother’s determined to see this wedding through to the end just so she can thwart my father by giving Bitter Creek to me.”

“I don’t see anyone holding a gun to your head.”

“It’s there, whether you see it or not,” she said miserably. “I’m sick and tired of my parents manipulating my life. I feel like marrying the first man who crosses my path just to show them I can find my own husband.”

He chuckled. “In that case, how about marrying me? I could use a wife.”

She stared at him. “You need a wife?”

“No. I just need to be married.”

She laughed and said, “Mind explaining that?”

“Will’s mother recently got married and is taking me to court to try and get custody of my son. She can provide Will with two parents. I can only give him one.”

“I see,” Summer said.

“I’m not giving Will up to Debbie Sue,” Billy said fiercely.

“How will you fight her?”

“She doesn’t really want Will. She wants money. I’ll figure out some way to buy her off, even if I have to sell
the C-Bar and give her my share of whatever I can get for it.”

“What about your mom and Emma? What’s going to happen to them if you sell the ranch?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet. That’s why I’m sitting here thinking.”

“I have a suggestion,” Summer said, her heart thumping painfully in her chest.

“I’m open to anything.”

Summer took a breath and said, “Why not marry me?”

Billy laughed and then sobered. “I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

She laid her hand on his cheek and turned his face toward her. “I’m serious. Why not marry me? I won’t get my trust fund for two more years, but I get a small settlement—about $25,000—when I marry. Surely that would be enough to hold off Debbie Sue until I get the rest.”

“I won’t take your money,” Billy countered.

“Not even if it’s for Will?”

“What do you get out of this?” Billy said.

“I get to make my own choice of husband.”

Billy made a snorting sound. “And then what? How long were you planning on staying married to me?”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I suppose until I get my trust fund.”

“Two years?”

“That would be a fair exchange, wouldn’t it? That’ll get you through your mother’s illness and your sister’s pregnancy. Surely by then you’d have another job and be able to prove to a judge that you can make a better home for Will than his mother.”

“I’ll concede that getting married helps me,” Billy said. “I still don’t see what you get out of it.”

“A chance to help a friend. And to save myself from temptation. I want to manage Bitter Creek so much I’m afraid I’ll marry Geoffrey just to get it. I don’t want to be as selfish as my mother. Or as ruthless as my father.”

Summer tried smiling, but her mouth trembled, so she gave up. “Marrying you gives me a chance to do something good for you… and for myself. What do you think?”

“I think you’re crazy.”

She got onto her knees facing him. “Think about it, Billy. We’re good friends. We like each other. This could work.”

“What about the marriage part of it?”

She stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the sex part of it. Or had you forgotten that?”

Summer flushed. “I hadn’t given it any thought.”

“Well, think about it. Am I supposed to spend two years sleeping on the couch?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We could sleep in the same bed and still not—”

He shook his head. “I’m not drawing some imaginary line down the middle of the bed.”

“What do you suggest?” she said with asperity.

“I suggest we forget the whole idea.”

She shook her head, her ponytail swinging across her shoulders. “No. We’re friends. We can manage this, Billy.”

“I doubt that,” Billy said under his breath.

“I can live without sex if you can. After all, this is simply a marriage of convenience.”

“It won’t be at all convenient to live without sex,” Billy said, lifting a sardonic brow. “But I sure as hell don’t want to end up with another child I have to fight to keep.”

“I can use birth control if we change our minds later,” she said.

“I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Fine,” Summer said. “So we won’t make sex a part of the bargain.” She couldn’t explain the knot that had formed in her stomach. After all, Billy was making this easy for her. She was going to get independence from her parents at a very small price. Knowing the courts, it would take two years for her parents to untangle their affairs enough to get a divorce. Meanwhile, she would be free of their machinations.

“When are we going to do this?” Billy asked.

“We can go to the courthouse and do it right now, as far as I’m concerned,” Summer replied.

“What about that fancy wedding your mother has planned?”

“She’ll have to cancel it.”

“What’s your father going to say when he hears what you’ve done?”

“I don’t really care,” Summer said. “Starting right now, I’m making all my own decisions, without regard to what my parents think.”

“They’re going to be furious,” Billy predicted with a grin.

“I really don’t give a damn,” Summer said. “This is my life. I’m going to live it my way.”

“You’ll lose Bitter Creek,” he said.

Summer laced her fingers together over her knees. “Maybe part of growing up is admitting I’ll never be mistress of Bitter Creek and figuring out where to go from there.”

Billy stood and reached down to grasp Summer’s hands and pull her to her feet. He looked into her eyes, his face as serious as she’d ever seen it.

“I want to be sure you realize what you’re getting into,” he said. “This has to look like a real marriage—at least for two years. There can be no backing out, no running away. If push comes to shove, I need to be able to show the judge I can make a stable home for Will.”

“Of course,” she said. “I—”

“I’m not finished,” he said, his hands tightening on hers. “I’m going to need to borrow that $25,000 you get when we marry. I’ll pay you back—every cent. But that much money in one lump sum—and the promise of more along the way—might be enough to get Debbie Sue to drop the custody suit.”

“It’s yours,” Summer said.

“Thank you, Summer. You don’t know what this means to me. I…” He dropped her hands. “Just thanks.”

She saw the relief in his eyes and something else, a troubled look she couldn’t identify. “I’m just glad I can do this for you.”

“You have from now until we get to the courthouse for second thoughts,” he said. “After that, it’ll be too late to change your mind. Between here and there, think long and hard about what you’re doing.”

“Don’t worry, Billy,” Summer said. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I doubt it,” Billy replied. “Just remember. There’s no backing out once we’re married. A quick marriage and an even quicker divorce would look worse to the courts than no marriage at all. Are you
sure
you want to do this?”

Summer looked into Billy’s worried eyes. He flinched as she reached up to brush a lock of dark hair from his forehead. “Don’t worry, Billy. You can count on me. I won’t let you down.”

He unsaddled and unbridled his horse and put the tack in the back of her pickup. “Target can find his way back to the stable. Let’s go.”

“Maybe I should stop by the Castle first and get some of my things,” Summer said.

“You can pack a bag of clothes after we’re married,” Billy said. “There’s no room for anything else at my place.”

Summer thought of her canopied bed and her mirrored dresser and the dozens of pairs of shoes in her closet. Then she thought of Billy’s tiny jail cell of a room, with its sagging iron-railed bed and narrow chest of drawers.

She swallowed past the knot of apprehension in her throat. She wanted to ask where she and Billy were going to sleep, but she already knew the answer. Her life of luxury was over.

At least for the next two years.

She tried to imagine the shock on her mother’s ageless, unlined face, the outrage in her father’s cold gray eyes. Better not to confront them. Better to let them find out however they would.

Billy handed her into the passenger seat of her pickup,
then stopped and stared deep into her eyes. “You know what people say about me, Summer. You know who I am and always will be in this town. You sure you want to marry me?”

Summer’s voice came out in a rasping whisper. “Yes, Billy. I do.”

L
AUREN
C
REED FELT HER STOMACH LURCH AT
the sound of someone knocking on her back door at five in the morning—a bare minute after she’d turned on the kitchen light. She set down the coffeepot and stared into the darkness beyond the screen door trying to discern who was there. She was expecting her elder son Sam, who lived in the foreman’s house, to arrive any minute to share breakfast and discuss the division of labor for the day. But Sam wouldn’t have knocked.

Something’s happened to Luke
.

Her heart had been lodged in her throat ever since her restless and rebellious twenty-year-old son had headed to some godforsaken African nation with his National Guard unit five months ago. She lived in daily dread of hearing that Luke had been injured or killed by some machete—or machine-gun—wielding native.

Ren couldn’t seem to make her feet move toward the door. She opened her mouth to urge her visitor to come in, but no sound came out. She tensed as someone shoved the screen door open with a groan of springs and stepped inside.

“Oh, it’s you.” She tried to hold back the sob of relief in her chest, but to her chagrin, it escaped.

“My God, Ren. What’s wrong?”

She wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but a moment later she was being held tight in Jackson Blackthorne’s arms. She let out another sob and wrapped her arms around his waist, amazed that he was here holding her, when she hadn’t allowed herself more than a glimpse of his beloved face for the past two years.

“I’ve been sitting in my truck, waiting for the light to go on,” he said in a gruff voice.

“You should have called. I would have let you in.”