A Real Cowboy Never Walks Away (Wyoming Rebels Book 4) (21 page)

She didn't wait for an answer. She just turned and raced to the kitchen, fighting back the tears that wanted to destroy her. This time, for the first time in a week, she didn't go upstairs. She grabbed her car keys and headed out the back door to go to Martha's, to hug her daughter, to remind herself of why she had to be strong, to remind herself that there was one person in the world who she could love without fear.

* * *

A
cross the street
, Travis stood outside the Wildflower Café, his hat pulled low, and his collar flipped up as he watched Lissa sitting with his brothers. He felt dead inside. Empty. Like a gaping emptiness was scraping away at his soul.

He'd sat at that table with her. He'd watched her smile. He'd felt happy.

Now, he felt nothing. He didn't even feel the anger that had always been a part of his life. He just felt...nothing.

Lissa stood up, her fists clenched. Travis realized she was shouting at his brothers.
Something was wrong
. Alarm raced through him, and he instantly shot forward, not even looking for cars as he raced across the street. He jerked open the door and ran inside. "Lissa!"

She was gone.

His brothers spun around toward him, but he barely noticed them. "Where did she go? Into the kitchen? What happened? What's wrong with her?" He strode past the table, but Chase grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop.

Travis glared down at him. "Let go."

"Why? You going to go in there, be nice, and then ditch her yet again?"

Travis jerked his arm back, out of Chase's reach. "She's upset. I need to make sure she's okay."

Chase shoved him back, roughly. "She's upset because she loves you, and you walked out on her. She's a single mom, Travis. You don't do shit like that to people like her."

She loved him.
The words slammed into him, but he shoved them aside, unable to deal with them. "People like her? What does that mean?"

"People who love you, even when you're a dick. You don't mess with them. You respect them and treat them well."

"Love?" Travis couldn't keep the snarl out of his voice. "What the fuck is love? You mean love like we had growing up? Is that love? Well, I'll tell you about love. My fucking mother just showed up, pretending to fucking care. But all she wanted was my money. Is that love? Because it's bullshit."

"What?" Maddox stood up, his face dark with anger. "Your mom's in town?"

"Yeah, and she pulled this shit about apologizing, and I believed her. It was all lies." Suddenly Travis felt lost. He sat down heavily in the chair. "What the fuck, man? She admitted she hated me. I mean, I knew she did, but hell. She looked in my face and lied to me, said she was there to apologize, but she only wanted my money." He looked at his brothers. "How long do you think she was planning it? To come after me for my money?"

"Fuck her." Ryder scowled. "She's not worth your time, man. None of them are. But, you gotta watch it with your money. People will do whatever it takes to get a piece of it, when you have as much as you do." He jerked his head at the peeling paint on the wall of the café. "How do you know Lissa's not in it for the money, too? Women—"

"No." Travis's response was sharp, instinctive. "She's not like that."

"How the hell do you know?"

"Because I do." But even as he said it, he thought of how he'd believed in Mariel. He'd been so fucking desperate to be saved that he'd bought into the story that he was a dad. He'd even believed his own mother, for a minute. When he'd shown up in this town, he'd been a complete mess, gasping for breath in a life that was killing him. Lissa was the first person who'd been there for him, who'd seen him just as a man, and not as a Stockton or a superstar. She'd been his salvation when he hadn't been able to cope. He'd been desperate. So maybe he wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe he was wrong about Lissa. Maybe that was why he was holding back. Maybe in his gut, he knew...

"Come on." Chase stood up. "We're going on a field trip."

The rest of the Stocktons didn't move. "A field trip?" Maddox raised his brows. "We're not in high school."

Chase just headed for the door. "I'll drive." He walked out, leaving them sitting there.

Travis looked at his brothers. "Where's he going?"

"I don't know."

They watched Chase get in his truck and start the engine. He turned the headlights on and sat there waiting.

Finally, Ryder stood up. "Hell. Let's go."

Maddox groaned but he shrugged. "Might as well. We got nothing to do until Travis's concert tomorrow night."

Travis stared at his brothers. "You really came for my show?"

"Hell, yeah." Ryder slammed his hand down on Travis's shoulder. "You done good, bro. You need some people in the audience who know you're a Stockton, not some glam pretty boy. That blood runs black in our veins, but you've done good."

Travis got a sudden lump in his throat. "Thanks."

Ryder nodded. "Anytime. You know that." He grabbed his cowboy hat and headed toward the door, Maddox right behind him.

Travis hesitated, glancing at the kitchen door that Lissa had disappeared through. He glanced at his brothers heading out the door, and then back at the kitchen. Swearing, he started to walk toward the street, then spun around and sprinted into the kitchen. He flung the door open. "Lissa!"

The kitchen was empty.

She'd already gone upstairs.

He eyed the door to the back stairs, the urge to yank it open and chase her down so strong that his chest actually hurt. He was halfway across the kitchen toward it when the door to the café opened.

He swung around, then swore when he saw Chase standing there. His brother's face was hard. "Get in the truck, Travis."

"Lissa—"

"Deserves more than a bastard who keeps showing up and then leaving her. Or you planning to stay this time?"

Travis glanced at the kitchen door, then swore under his breath. He didn't answer Chase. He just grabbed the spare key from under the counter, shoved past him, and jerked the door open. Chase walked through, then Travis followed him, locked the door, and shoved the key through the mail slot.

Then, after taking another long look at the kitchen door, he turned and headed to his brother's truck.

C
hase parked
the truck in a dark, isolated field, his headlights the only illumination besides the moon.

"Where are we?" Ryder peered out the windshield.

"Just get out," Chase said as he opened his door.

Travis shoved open the rear door and climbed out. The moment he saw the scattered, crumbling headstones, he knew. His gut went cold, and he flashed back to the night when hell had descended upon them. "No fucking way. We're not doing this."

"Yeah, we are." Chase started walking through the graveyard, his cowboy boots scuffing in the parched August earth. "It's time."

"What is this place?" Maddox looked around.

Ryder and Maddox had been out of town when it had happened, and they hadn't come back. Only Travis and Chase had been there. Only Travis and Chase had stood there, watching their father be dumped into a hole in the ground, where he was never going to break the bones of any more of his sons. Ever. "Dad's grave."

Ryder unleashed a litany of curses, and Maddox just turned around and got back in the truck without saying a word.

Chase was already in the middle of the graveyard, standing over the simple, small headstone that marked the end of an era of hell. Travis looked at Ryder, who was staring at Chase with a grim look on his face.

"Let's go." Ryder took a deep breath, and then headed across the graveyard toward Chase.

Travis didn't want to do this. His ribs were aching even as he stood there, the pain piercing his chest, just as it had when they'd stood over his father's grave. Travis had been out of the hospital only two hours, a skinny sixteen-year-old who'd lived under the fists of a demon his whole life.

He looked back at Maddox, who was sitting silently in the truck, his arms folded as he stared across the barren fields, looking away from the cemetery.

Their old man didn't deserve a visit, but, son of a bitch, Travis knew he couldn't keep living like this. Maybe Chase was right. Maybe it was time to do this. Swearing under his breath, he shoved his hands in his pockets and forced himself to walk across the dusty ground.

He stopped next to his brothers, staring down at the plain headstone, marked only with their dad's name. Not even the date of his birth or death. Just a name. Travis felt cold, ice cold, almost numb as he stared at it. "Bastard," he said softly.

Ryder snarled and spit on it.

"A worse man never lived," Chase said.

"No shit." Ryder turned his back on it and folded his arms over his chest. "Why are we here?"

"Because it's time to let go of the grip he has on us."

"He doesn't have anything on me," Ryder snapped. "I cut him out the moment I left home at eighteen."

Travis couldn't take his eyes off the headstone. He could still hear his old man's voice in his head, that drunken rant filled with anger and disgust as he stumbled up the front steps to the shitbox they lived in. "I've heard his voice every time I've gone to bed. I don't sleep. I'm still afraid he's coming for me. He's been dead for almost a decade, and he still haunts me."

His brothers were silent.

"Me, too," Maddox said, walking up behind them. "I see his face every time I look in a mirror. He looks out of my eyes. I fucking hate him. I hate that he's still here." He stood close to Travis, his shoulder bumping against his, the way they used to stand in self-defense.

"He is still here," Chase agreed. "But he's dead. In the ground. He's gone." He lightly brushed the toe of his boot over the gravestone. "Every day I have to deal with the fact that I killed him."

Guilt washed over Travis. Chase had killed their father to save Travis from him. "Sorry, man, I didn't mean—"

"No!" Chase spun toward him. "There's no room for guilt. I could say that if I'd killed him ten years earlier, the rest of you would have been spared. There's a thousand ways to let him tear us up, but it's bullshit. We're the ones who won. We have each other. We have lives. We have people who love us."

Ryder snorted. "You do. Mira gets it, but the rest of us have shit."

"No." Chase looked at him. "We have each other. Each of us has eight brothers willing to go to hell and back for each other. Without Dad, we would never be like this. We'd be fragmented, alone, and isolated. He pushed us so hard that we fought back by finding each other. We won.
We fucking won.
"

Travis looked down at the crumbling grave. He thought of the scars on his body. He thought of the way Nick had looked at him when he'd asked to borrow the kid's guitar. He thought of Bridgette's joy when they created a song from her poems. "He made me find my music," he said softly. "I wouldn't have done that if I hadn't been desperate."

"Bullshit," Maddox snapped. "We aren't going to stand here and be grateful for him. That's crap."

"No, not grateful," Chase agreed. "But it's time to let go of the darkness he poured into our lives. He's gone, but we're not." He looked at Travis. "I wasn't alive until I let myself love Mira. Love is the answer. I let her into my life and my heart, and that was the only thing that freed me."

Travis ground his jaw. "Mira's different—"

"Yeah, she is. And so is Lissa. I've known her since she moved to town. She's the real deal, the kind of tough, passionate woman that we all need." Chase jerked his head toward the grave. "We all had crappy mothers. Put them in there with Dad, and then walk away. Just walk the hell away, and start to live."

Travis stared at the gravestone. He'd been the youngest, so most of his brothers had been scarce by the time he was growing up, but his brothers had always defended him, protecting him until he'd been big enough to protect himself. "I remember waking up in the middle of the night sometimes, and seeing you guys standing around my bed, protecting me in case he came after me."

Maddox said nothing, but Ryder sighed. "You were a scrawny little kid. Someone had to protect you."

Travis looked at his three brothers. Chase, the oldest. Ryder and Maddox, twins that didn't look anything alike, who'd always brought him into their tight bond. "Thanks. For all of it. Including coming to my concert."

"Two-way street, bro." Ryder slung his arm over Travis's shoulders. "Two-way street."

Chase draped his arm over Travis's other shoulder. "Nine-way street, seems to me."

With a low sigh, Maddox wrapped his arm around Ryder's shoulder, so the four brothers were lined up, facing the grave. "Eight-way street, these days. Anyone been able to track down Caleb?"

"Not in a couple years, but he's out there," Chase said. "We'll hear from him at some point."

The four brothers fell silent, staring at the grave of the man who'd haunted them for so long. After a while, Travis realized that his ribs weren't aching anymore. He was more aware of his brothers' breathing than he was of the echo of his dad's voice. He could feel the cool night breeze over his skin, instead of the burn of cigarettes.

He took a breath, his lungs expanding as he sucked in air. The air felt fresh and clear. Light. Free. It was because he was with people he didn't have to defend against, people who had his back.

He could relax. Breathe. Think. Hear his own voice, instead of the echoes of the past.

There was only one other time he'd been able to breathe like this, and it had been when he was with Lissa.

* * *

"
M
om
!" Bridgette came racing into the café from the kitchen at two o'clock the next afternoon, her face eager with excitement.

"Hey, baby!" Lissa set down the plates she'd been clearing and swept her daughter up into a huge hug. "Today's the last day, and then you're back home!" She hugged Bridgette fiercely, fighting back the tears that had been threatening all day.

"You're suffocating me!" Bridgette pushed back, wanting space when Lissa needed a hug from her, a reminder that she was doing the right thing by focusing on herself and her daughter, by preserving what they had, and not risking it all by going after a man who didn't want them.

"Sorry." Lissa forced herself to release her, aware of the clatter of plates in the kitchen. "Is Martha unloading my dishwasher?"

"Of course." Bridgette wrinkled her nose. "She thinks you work too hard." She clapped her hands. "Can you get us special passes for tonight? Front row seats? Backstage passes?"

Lissa frowned. "Tonight? What's tonight?"

"Travis's concert!" Bridgette frowned at her. "How could you forget? He's your friend."

"Ah, yes, right. I forgot that he's the headliner closing the fair this year." Lissa's heart tightened, and she picked up the plates. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but I don't have special passes—"

"Did you ask him?"

"No, I didn't—"

"Ask him! Please! I already told my friends that they could meet him! Do you think he'll sing my song tonight? How cool would that be? Super awesome!" Bridgette started dancing around the room, her youthful exuberance pouring out of her like sunshine.

Lissa couldn't help but smile, her heart turning over. Bridgette was generally a happy kid, but Travis had lit a spark inside her that no one else had. "You like him, don't you?"

"He's awesome!" Bridgette spun around, singing her song, the one that she and Travis had put together. "I think I'm going to be a singer like him. Can I take guitar lessons?"

Lissa didn't know how much guitar lessons were, but she knew she'd find a way. "Of course."

"Yay!" Bridgette twirled around. "I'm going to wear my pink cowboy boots to the concert tonight. You think they still fit?" She stared at Lissa. "What if they don't fit anymore? What if I have to wear
brown
boots to his concert? That would be horrible!"

Lissa couldn't help but laugh at her daughter's horror. "Brown boots aren't horrible—"

"I'll buy a pair of pink ones if she needs them."

Lissa spun around as Rand walked into the café. He was wearing a denim shirt that looked new, crisp jeans, and dress boots. He looked like a man who had come to impress.

Bridgette spun around him, her brow furrowing. "Why would you buy me boots?"

Oh, God. "Rand, this isn't a good time—"

"It is a good time." Rand sat down at a table. "How are you doing, Bridgette? You remember meeting me at the fair the other day?"

"Yes." To Lissa's surprise, Bridgette sat down across from him, her brow furrowed. "It's you, isn't it? You're the one my mom won't talk about."

Lissa froze, and Rand stiffened. "What do you mean?" he asked, glancing at Lissa before focusing on Bridgette.

"You're my dad, right?"

Lissa's legs suddenly felt weak, and she sat down hard in the nearest chair. "Oh, Bridge—"

Rand answered her. "Yeah, I am."

"Why are you here?" Bridgette didn't look away from him, didn't seem intimidated.

Rand leaned forward. "Because I want to get to know you."

Bridgette cocked her head. "I'm quite spectacular, you know."

Lissa laughed, a choked, desperate laugh.

"I can see that already."

Bridgette studied him. "Are you spectacular? My mom is, you know. She's also quite spectacular. Like me."

Lissa's throat tightened at her daughter's words. Was she really quite spectacular? Most of the time, she felt like she was barely above passable, but to hear Bridgette declare her spectacularness... God. She wanted to be the person her daughter saw her as. She really did.

Rand took a moment to answer. "I have accomplished some spectacular things in my life, but I'm not so fantastic in the dad department. I was hoping to work on it."

Bridgette nodded. "Maybe you can ask Travis for some advice," she said solemnly. "He's quite spectacular, I think."

Rand's jaw tightened. "Travis?"

"Yep." Bridgette leaned forward. "I think they love each other. I'm hoping he'll be my dad, but you can also be my dad. Different dad. My friend Felicity has two dads, and so does Morgan. So, we can be like that. And you can practice." She eyed him. "I think you need to practice a lot. Dads don't walk away. You have to fix that."

Rand looked at Lissa, and then back at Bridgette. For a long time, he said nothing, and Lissa recalled his promise to quit the tour and stay in town. Then he sighed and looked at his daughter. "My job requires me to travel, but I'm in town for a few days. What if I promise to come back and visit when I can? We can start that way."

Tears filled Lissa's eyes. Even though he'd said he was going to stay in town, he wasn't. He was still going to walk away from her daughter. After all his claims over the last two days, he was still going to leave. They had been lies, manipulations to get her to choose him over Travis. Damn him. Just damn him.

Bridgette, however, didn't seem concerned. She just shrugged, apparently not carrying the same amount of baggage about being abandoned as Lissa did. "That's cool." She looked at Lissa. "I need to go upstairs and check for my boots. Can I leave now?"

Lissa nodded. "I'll be right up."

She and Rand sat silently as Bridgette raced out of the room, singing the song she and Travis had written. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Finally, Rand said, "You've done good with her. She doesn't need me. She's got all she needs in you. I can see it. She's so grounded."