Bootscootin' Blahniks (21 page)

That’s it
. Roxy couldn’t let this vacuum of nothingness continue. They had to see Kat. She abruptly turned to exit the waiting room to find someone to help them, nearly colliding with a nurse coming-in.

A softly rounded, middle-aged brunette with a sweet smile and a hundred freckles greeted her. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Rhonda, Kat’s nurse.”

Rhonda squeezed Roxy’s arm then went to Zayne, all but scooping him out of his chair, hugging him close to her cherub-like frame. “You can come on back now. She would love to see you both.”

“Thank you. How is she?” Roxy’s mind, cluttered with muddled thoughts and unexpected emotions, left her feeling fortunate to create coherent sentences while also walking. “What should we expect?”

“Kat’s quite weak, so try not to excite her,” Rhonda cautioned then laughed. “For the record, I also told
her
to cool it.”

Rhonda patiently waited for them to fall into step beside her. She put an arm around Zayne and patted his shoulders like Roxy’s favorite au pair used to do before parading Roxy into the living room for a carefully orchestrated appearance before her parents’ friends.

As they left the waiting area, the nurse continued to coddle Zayne, like a mother fussing over her child, gearing him up for an adventure he wasn’t looking forward to. With Zayne’s pale face, he needed all the pampering he could get. Not that Roxy couldn’t also use Rhonda’s cocoon-like comfort.

“This diagnosis is going to be a harder adjustment for Kat than for you both,” Rhonda warned. “She’s simply got to slow down.”

“Don’t worry. She’s a fixin’ to. You can count on it.” Zayne fisted his hands as his pace quickened through the wide fluorescent-lit hallway.

“Remember, kids, no excitement tonight. Save it ’til at least tomorrow.” Rhonda led them to the doorway of one of the emergency area’s examining rooms. “I’ll give you some privacy. Then I’ll be in to move her into a regular room. We’ll want to keep her until she sees her cardiologist Monday morning.”

Roxy peeked into the room, seeing a gaudy curtain drawn closed around a bed. Could this place have worst taste in fabrics? Hell, the damn daisies plastered on the cloth made
her
dizzy, and she wasn’t sick.

“You go first,” Zayne said, his voice catching in his throat. “I’m not real good at this stuff.”

Roxy hooked her arm through his and prodded him toward the daisy shield from hell. “I’m no candy striper, Cowboy, but we’ll make it work together.”

“Kat?” she said, tentatively pulling the curtain back, “I’d be out of it too, if I had to wake up to this sheer monstrosity. Damn. Maybe I should do some designs for the hospital market.”

To Roxy’s relief, Kat was alert enough to smile at her insulting remarks.
Good sign
.

“Did you see that?” Zayne patted Roxy’s arm like a young boy trying to get his playmate’s attention regarding a marvelous new discovery. “Mom smiled.”

“Yes, Zayne, I did,” Kat said and smiled again. “I can see and hear too. I’m not an invalid yet, although…,” she coughed lightly, grimacing after the unexpected movement, “…I could use some water.”

“Here, Mom.” Zayne reached for a retro gold, plastic pitcher placed on a roll-away bedside table then poured water into the matching cup. He bent the cup’s attached straw into his mom’s mouth letting her get a drink and a few partially melted ice chips. “Does that feel better?”

“Yes, dear, it does. Thank you. I was parched.” She nestled back into her pillow with a heavy sigh, as if leaning forward for the drink had worn her out.

“I’m so sorry I scared you both. I’m not sure what came over me. Must have been something I ate.” Kat looked past Zayne toward Roxy as if trying to gauge from Roxy’s reaction who knew what.

Roxy shrugged her shoulders, hoping Kat would figure out that their gig wasn’t up, although it was dangerously close to getting them into big trouble.

“Okay, Mom,” Zayne said then put his hands on the metal rails of her bed, “cut the crap. Dr. Walters told us about your heart.”

Zayne’s knuckles turned red then white as he tightened his hands around the rails.

“Oh, Zayne, I only told Roxy because…”

“So you
did
know?” Zayne asked Roxy in a small, yet precisely controlled voice.

“I…” Roxy looked at the floor, unable to bear the hurt in his eyes. “I should have told you, but…”

“You’re damn right, you should have,” he said glaring at her, his hurt packed into spears of piercing anger.

“Zayne.” Kat reached for his hand, but he pulled away. With steady, measured breaths, she continued, “I made her promise not to tell you because I didn’t want to worry you. You’ve had your hands full with the contest. And I didn’t tell Roxy as much as she cajoled it out of me.”

Even with Kat taking the blame, a hard, empty look made itself at home across Zayne’s face.

Roxy couldn’t dodge the wall he was constructing between them.

“How could you keep this from me? Either one of you?” Zayne looked first at Roxy, and then at his mother, his voice a soundboard mix of hurt and resentment. “You each mean the world to me. How could you shut me out?”

“To protect you,” Roxy heard herself blurt out before she’d thought of anything better to say.

“Protect me? From what? From who?” Zayne gave her an icy stare. “The only person or thing I need to steer clear of is you, Roxy. You’re nothing but trouble. The more you try to fit in, the bigger messes you make.”

“Zayne, that’s enough,” Kat said with a stone cold tone Roxy had never heard her use on her son. “You apologize.”

“I’m not —”

“Yes. You will. No son of mine treats a woman like that. Now, Zayne. And I mean it.” Kat lay back into her pillow. “And make it snappy. I’m supposed to be resting.”

“Kat, he owes me nothing.” Roxy stepped beside Zayne, using the bed rails to garner strength. “I betrayed him and our friendship.”

“You, my dear, did as I, also your friend, asked of you.” Kat tended her covers, as if straightening the cheap disheveled fabric would dissipate the negative energy bouncing between all three of them. “But if you prefer to cover his rude ass in front of his mother, I respect that. Just make sure he apologizes later.”

“Speaking of apologies, I’ve been thinking about ways to fix all of this.” Roxy gestured to the room-at-large, then rested a hand on Zayne’s shoulder long enough to feel him flinch and pull away.

Kat took a big gulp of air followed by two short gasps. “Okay. Out with it, dear, before Rhonda kicks you both out for roughing me up.”

Zayne rushed to give his mom another drink and fluff her pillow then placed his hands on hers.

“Well, Dr. Walters says your lifestyle must be substantially modified,” Roxy began, then cleared her throat.

“Oh, she’ll be modifying it by sitting her ass at home. Trust me.” Zayne wasted no time dumbing down Roxy’s treatment analysis.

“And who’s going to run The Neon Cowboy while I’m sitting on my ass?” Kat countered, the muscles tightening in her jaws as she waited for an answer.

“I am,” Roxy said, rocking back on her heels, not liking the sharp clack they produced against the examining room’s parquet floor. “While you’re sitting at Raeve taking care of my customers.”

The indignity in Kat’s eyes eased. Her rigid jaw relaxed.

“You don’t cook or bartend,” Zayne fired back, attempting to dismiss Roxy’s idea with sarcasm-rimmed reality.

“No, I don’t, but Jules does. And Cody too, right?” Roxy pulled-up a chair and curled her legs underneath her in her best thinking pose.

“You’re doing well so far,” Kat said. “What else you got?”

“Well, I can definitely keep the saloon’s gift corral running and stocked, teach line dancing lessons, and chat- up the customers.” Her confidence on a roll, Roxy kept two-stepping through her solution to their dilemma. “Audrey is a marketing genius. So she can help at Raeve and oversee Damian’s construction of the new shelving and displays you suggested.”

Zayne tapped his boot against the wheels of the bed. “Where do I fit into your plan?”

“That’s just it. I’ve got it covered. All you have to worry about are your tomatoes.” Expecting him to like the idea, Roxy was surprised to see him tense up. The muscles in his forearms twitched. “What am I missing? I thought you’d be thrilled?”

She was right, he should be pleased with her suggestions, Zayne thought. But he wasn’t. Besides the fact he was reeling from their betrayal, he had no intentions of spending so much time away from the saloon or his mother. Although the tomatoes could use his complete attention.

He knew their friends would serve them well, but no matter how much he worked on his dad’s tomatoes, those bastards would more than likely be screwed. And trusting Roxy to do right by him, after the secret she’d kept, wasn’t a chance Zayne was ready to take. Even if his mother had played a significant role in Roxy’s deceit. Zayne needed someone who’d level with him whether good or bad information was at stake.

Roxy chose not to operate that way. What if there were problems at the saloon Zayne should be resolving? Would she keep those from him too…to
protect
him? He didn’t need her looking after him. He could take care of himself.

“Roxy, I appreciate your offers, but I really think this is a family problem Mom and I need to figure out.”

Roxy looked at him as if he’d taken away her only friend. Her eyes welled with tears she’d be too proud to spill. Excluding her from his inner circle must have hit hard. But she’d done that to herself by leaving him out of the loop concerning his mother. Zayne pushed away the compassion nipping at his resolve to keep Roxy a safe distance from his heart.

“You
are
my family now, Zayne.” Roxy rose from her chair, stoically pushing it back against the wall opposite the bed. “Like it or not. I’m not going away when you need me.”

Zayne didn’t know what to say. He’d never seen Roxy so vulnerable yet determined. He may be angry with her but he couldn’t turn her away, not when she must need them as bad as they needed her. His gut tightened at the realization he didn’t want to lose what they’d started. Each thought of life without her squeezed his stomach with rushes of regret.

Maybe some quality time in the fields would be good for him. Lord knew the women in his life were driving him down the fast lane to insanity. At least tomatoes didn’t talk back.

“Well, I’m glad that’s settled. You two can work out the details with your friends tomorrow during brunch. Please let them know how grateful I am for their help,” his mother said then pushed the nurse’s call button. “It’s late. We’ve all had quite a night. I’ll have Rhonda see you out.”

“We probably should be going.” Zayne got up, leaned over and planted a kiss on his mom’s cheek.

“And don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, Mom,” he whispered into her ear. “But I’ll decide when and if I’m interested in someone.”

His mother chuckled softly. “Roxy, give me a hug. Then make sure my ass of a son sees you home.”

Zayne stepped away from the bed to make room for Roxy. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t ignore the good feeling he had seeing the connection she and his mother shared.

“Love ya
both
,” his mother called after them.

Women
.

N
o charm school she’d attended in Upper East Side Manhattan had prepared her to be a bootscootin’ barmaid, Roxy thought, as she followed the host to a corner booth along the far wall of the Pancake Pantry.

She’d wanted a Nashville zip code since her favorite au pair had introduced her to Country Music Television. But living where those boots walked was an entirely different experience.

Before she could slide out of her coat, a waitress delivered a steaming cup of coffee. After folding her silk and satin parka and placing it on the bench seat between her table and the next booth, Roxy emptied a partial packet of sweetener into her cup.

While the crystals fizzed and swirled into the depths of the hot liquid, she stirred, taking comfort in the clink of her spoon against the inside of the ceramic cup. She could make this work, she told herself, restating her mantra with each ching of metal to china.

A long line of customers wrapped around the front of the restaurant. At 8:30, Roxy had started close to the same spot as the last person in line. She checked her watch. 9:34. About right. Even midweek, it was usually an hour wait to be seated. But sixty minutes worth every second.

Excitement buzzed her senses. Even though every item on the menu tasted great, her anticipation made it difficult to focus on food. The pancake house was a hot destination for country stargazing. So far, though, Roxy hadn’t spotted any of Nashville’s elite. At least if she had, she didn’t know it.

Keith Urban supposedly liked the Pantry’s Caribbean pancakes, and Vince Gill was reportedly partial to the sweet potato stacks. But Roxy couldn’t prove either…yet. But she would. She just knew it. You done good, girl, she thought, giving herself an imaginary pat on the back. Some days she still couldn’t believe she’d finally found the courage to live and work where her dreams demanded.

Seeing Zayne searching for her by the host’s stand, Roxy waved. Watching him saunter toward the table, she blocked out her fears of making good on her plan. Instead of focusing on their mission to save Raeve, his mom’s saloon and Zayne’s tomatoes, Roxy sat back in her seat and appreciated the view of Zayne’s work-hardened muscles.

Judging by his serious scowl, she had major damage control to do to restore the fantastic smile he used to flash her way. But she intended to earn back the trust he’d once had in her.

To see the hot and cocky grin return to his lips, Roxy would suffer through a day at the spa with her mother or a night on the red carpet with her father. Two activities cutting deep chasms of dread into her psyche, but fissures worth jumping to re-establish her respect in Zayne’s eyes.

“Have a seat, partner,” she said.

His raised eyebrows hinted he found her mildly amusing at best. She did, however, welcome his choice of body language. He could just as easily have extended his middle finger. So she’d take the arched brow.