Can't Stop Believing (HARMONY) (7 page)

“It’s beautiful country,” Cord said as he swung out of the saddle and took the drink she offered. “You could show a good profit, and you’re right—one good season is all you need to turn this place around.”

“No. I can’t. I’ve tried.” She looked up at him. “But you can.” She looked straight at him. “You should know there are those who do not wish you well.”

He walked his horse closer to her and whispered, “What else is new?”

The wind blew a few strands of her hair from the clamp she’d twisted back as they mounted up.

“Bring it on,” he smiled.

She smiled back at him. “Bring it on,” she repeated as they kicked their mounts into action and rode straight into the wind.

A
N
HOUR
BEFORE
MIDNIGHT
D
UPLEX

W
ITHOUT
A
SINGLE
WORD
, R
ONNY
L
OGAN
CLIMBED
INTO
the black Lincoln and closed her eyes. This was her third ride on the interstates to Marty’s hospital room. Each night she thought the car might not come for her, or Mr. Carleon might not meet her at the door. Marty might not still be alive.

She felt like a zombie, walking the waking world but not part of it. Each morning she’d manage to do her job and study. She could sleep in the back of the post office at noon instead of eating, but no matter how tired, she would be waiting in the dark. Each night she dressed in her best clothes and waited for the black car.

The second night she’d been awake enough to realize they were heading toward Oklahoma City, but mostly she slept in the car with its smooth music and warm blanket. Last night after she’d left without Marty waking yet again, she’d felt herself crying in her sleep, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Marty and the tiny hope that she’d be there when he opened his eyes.

Tonight Mr. Carleon was there, his hand offering to help her from the car, his face blank of emotions. There was no time for greetings as he rushed her through the hallways and up the elevator.

“How is he?” she asked, not expecting Carleon to say anything.

“He’s awake,” Mr. Carleon whispered as he opened the hospital room door, “but I don’t know for how long.”

She moved to Marty’s side, afraid to even breathe.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said, in a low voice that wrapped her in love as it had once before.

“Hello.” All the things she’d thought she would say to him vanished when she realized it was enough just to hear him.

“You wouldn’t want to crawl up here and sleep with me, would you?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, but his hand gripped hers. “God, how I’ve missed you.”

She glanced at Mr. Carleon standing in the shadows. He’d told her Marty was dying, not from the illness but from the cures they’d tried. Even the family composed of one brother and a handful of cousins had given up hope weeks ago. Now, his brother checked with the doctors a few times a day but didn’t bother to visit a man sleeping away his last hours. Daniel had left orders to be notified if there was a change, and a few of the cousins still brought flowers but didn’t stay.

Having her near had been his last wish, and Mr. Carleon was there to help. If nothing else, he’d block the door tonight.

The older man nodded slightly, and she carefully leaned down beside Marty and laid her hand gently over his heart. “I’ll love you one heartbeat past forever,” she whispered, and thought she saw him smile just before he drifted back into a drug-induced sleep.

After three nights of midnight rides, Ronny felt her body relax. She knew she was probably breaking every rule the hospital had, but she closed her eyes and took the ounce of happiness in her world without love. Her friends had told her to move on after Marty left, find someone else, but how could she settle? She’d rather hold on to a memory.

As machines ticked the minutes away, she let tears flow, wondering if every person just has so many they have to cry in a lifetime. If so, she must be near her quota. Once, Marty’s hand touched her hair, moving through it slowly as if remembering every minute he’d touched her in those few months they’d known one another.

Mr. Carleon nudged her gently an hour later and woke her. “It’s time to go, miss.”

She nodded and moved slowly away as Marty remained sleeping. For the first time, on the way home, she didn’t cry.

She slept and worked and ate . . . and waited for the night.

At eleven the next night the car ride seemed endless, but when she walked into the room, Marty was waiting. His dark eyes slowly moved over her, and then he raised his hand. “You finally got here, honey. I’ve been waiting.”

She sat on the edge of his bed, not knowing what to say and very much aware of Mr. Carleon listening.

Marty wove his fingers between hers. “Tell me about Harmony, beautiful. Tell me about your life. Tell me about your day and every day you’ve had since I walked out on you.”

She could see pain in his dark eyes and wondered if he’d declined the pain meds so that he could be awake with her. If so, she needed to make their time count.

“I moved into your duplex after you left. It’s still like what you described once, a cuddly dump.” She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but she didn’t know if he was up to answering. Did where he’d been really matter? He was here now. “I found the money you left with the cookbook and used it to enroll in online courses. I love the computer you sent. Every time I turn it on, I think of you.”

Marty smiled. “I knew you’d need it.”

“It’s become my life. I carry a full load of classes online, and with each class I make friends going to school in their pajamas. Now I have friends all over the world.”

“How’s the post office?”

“The same. My route that started with your house and the fire department is the whole downtown square now. It takes me an hour to walk it after I’ve sorted all the incoming mail. I love walking it, watching the seasons change.”

“Do you talk to the people now?” He studied her hand in his as he spoke.

“Some.” She remembered how shy she’d been, thinking every stranger might be the one who would harm her. “There are a few that I’m just on nodding terms with.”

One by one, Marty asked about all the people who had been in his world when he’d lived in Harmony. Summer, the friend of Ronny’s who’d let her room with her when Ronny first left home. Tyler Wright, the funeral director who had always been kind to her. The Biggs brothers, who lived in the other half of the duplex, and Beau Yates, who’d moved in with them.

They were people from a sliver of his past, but she had the feeling he cared about each one. Until the accident he’d lived an exciting life: the best schools, the most thrilling vacations. Money had never been a problem. She knew he’d come to Harmony to hide out in his wheelchair, but somehow he’d found a peace there, and he’d found her.

When she paused, he gripped her hand tighter. “I always meant to come back to you, honey. I swear.”

Ronny couldn’t answer. She didn’t know if he meant it or not. It didn’t matter. She believed it, she always had.

“Tell me more,” he whispered. “Hearing you makes me forget about the pain.”

He fell asleep as she talked about learning to cook.

Mr. Carleon moved to her side. “It’s time to go, miss.”

She nodded. “I wish I could do something.”

“You did, miss. You helped a great deal. You gave Mr. Winslow peace for an hour. You let him go back to Harmony to visit, something neither his brother nor the doctors thought would be wise.”

Ronny looked up at the thin man. “Why’d you let me come here?”

“Because he never stops asking about you or for you. He’s been all over the world seeing doctors. His brother persuaded him to concentrate on getting better. At first when he asked to see you and his few close friends, the caretakers put up roadblocks by promising only delays. It wasn’t hard. He wanted to walk, and the thought of walking back to see you kept him going.

“By the time he realized Daniel wasn’t going to allow him any visitors, his cell phone and computer were gone and a nurse guarded him all hours. He had no way to get to you. Two months ago, after yet another surgery, he was confined to bed, unable to manage even the wheelchair. I watched him turn inward, not wanting the world to see him, but still he’d ask for me to check on you.

“Once we settled in here, Daniel didn’t stay around much and the few cousins he never really talked to lost interest in doing their family duty. They had lives to get back to. Hour visits became five-minute drop-bys, and daily trips stretched into weekly stops.”

“But you stayed?”

“I stayed. When he ran to Harmony two years ago, I thought his family was right—if I didn’t go to help, he’d come back. But now I know I was wrong. If I had gone with him then, he might have made a life even in the chair and not had to go through all the cures that didn’t work.”

She looked around the room. “You live here, don’t you?”

Mr. Carleon nodded. “I leave to sleep a few hours in the morning and shower, then I’m back. I won’t leave him again. Even when the private nurses were hired, I remained.”

Ronny raised an eyebrow. “The invisible private nurse?”

Carleon smiled. “With all the machines and nurses just down the hall, the private nurse saw no need to sleep in a chair. I played along with her conspiracy to slip away about midnight and sleep across the street in a hotel where I provided her a room. She’s always back by five, and I’ve promised I’ll be here with him and notify her of any change. On weekends I hired her friend under the same arrangements. Both know I’m near if there is any problem, but he sleeps through the night and most days away.”

“Thank you,” she said as he opened the back door of the hospital. “For being his friend.”

Mr. Carleon nodded once. “I wish I’d known you, miss. I would have made the arrangements earlier, but I believed what the doctors and Daniel kept saying about distractions impeding his progress.”

She had to ask. “Will you let me know if something happens? I don’t think I could bear it if the car just didn’t come one night and I never knew.”

“I promise.” His smile was sad as he closed the door and she stepped into the waiting Lincoln.

M
ONDAY
B
OXED
B R
ANCH

B
Y
THE
THIRD
NIGHT
OF
HIS
MARRIAGE
TO
N
EVADA
, C
ORD
decided they’d developed a habit. He worked until he was dead tired. She fell asleep watching him. He carried her to bed. Then he lay three feet away from her and tried not to think about her or the way she smelled, or how she moved, or how the shadowy outline of her body curved beneath the covers. From the looks of things he would have to learn not to think at all if she was within fifty feet of him. He had a feeling if he complimented her she’d fly into that tornado he’d been expecting since they’d left the courthouse.

Nevada Britain wasn’t like what he thought. She didn’t seem as wild or crazy as people said. She just seemed lonely and, of course, spoiled. She was a hard worker, not much for talking unless he mentioned her horses, and cold in a way he never thought a woman who’d had lovers would ever be.

Near as he could tell Nevada didn’t trust anyone, but for some reason she’d been forced into trusting him with her land. Other than that, she didn’t even seem to like him most of the time or want him involved in her life. They talked about the ranch and nothing more. If he mentioned her family, she’d fire up and say she didn’t want to talk about them, or her ex-husbands for that matter.

Like they had the first night, Sunday night they’d cooked a simple meal together, and then he’d eaten and she’d picked at her food. When she’d pulled on her riding boots, he’d followed. They’d saddled up and ridden under the evening sky, not getting back until full dark and not having said more than a dozen words to one another.

He helped her with her horse in the new barn for just her herd, and then they rode double over to the main barn, where she watched him take care of Devil. Without a word, he took her hand and they crossed the last forty feet to the back gate of the main house. He guessed they were both tired and maybe a little nervous, but he couldn’t think of anything to say as he followed her into the house and back to their bedroom.

They’d settled into a few habits that he didn’t mind at all. Neither made any pretense of not watching when the other dressed or undressed. She even rushed into his closet wearing only her underthings to lecture him about maybe burning the clothes he’d brought with him to the ranch. They finally agreed on his packing them in the old suitcase he’d brought and promising to try wearing only the clothes that she bought him. In truth, he’d gotten used to the luxury of well-fitting clothes.

Cord thought of telling her she should never argue with him wearing only a bra and panties, but then she might take his advice and he’d hate that. He fell asleep each night planning what he’d do tomorrow and wishing that he could touch her.

When he woke Monday, she was already in the shower in her bathroom. It seemed strange for a room to have two complete bathrooms, but he’d figured out two days ago that the whole place had been designed by idiots. Half the windows didn’t open. Most of the rooms had no use, and if the huge fireplace in the living room was ever lit it would warm all the ranch and half of western Oklahoma.

She came out of the bathroom with a thin robe plastered around her damp body. “I’ll be ready in ten for the breakfast with the boys, but I can predict they won’t be happy to see us. As far as I know, a Britain has never eaten with them.”

“I’m not a Britain.”

She frowned as if she wished she’d thought to add that into the contract. “They just won’t like it.” She lifted her arms to pull off the towel covering her hair. Her short robe moved up a few inches.

“Not my problem,” he managed to mumble before stepping into his bathroom, all of his body now fully awake.

After a quick shower, Cord pulled another one of his new shirts from the rack and decided to try a pair of jeans that she’d picked out for him. He wanted to look like he knew what he was doing this morning when he faced the men for the first time. The jeans fit snugger than he usually wore, with a boot cut on the cuffs that was just right.

When he walked past the mirror to grab his hat, Cord noticed his reflection. A rancher, not a farmer, looked back. In this case, he hoped clothes made the man if he was to have any chance at pulling this charade off.

Nevada was waiting for him at the door. To his surprise, she wore a business suit. Her beautiful blond hair, which he’d gotten used to watching sway over the weekend, was now tied atop her head in a little knot that he hated. Everything about her was all business.

“I’ll drive you over and introduce you to the men, then I have to get to the office.” Nevada straightened her jacket. “I have a board meeting at nine and I need to go over a few things at the office first with my staff.”

“You work all day?” Somehow he thought she mostly shopped and had lunch.

“Eight to five, sometimes later.” She shrugged. “Between husbands I managed to get a business degree with a minor in law. Never finished in law, but it comes in handy in dealing with contracts and leases.”

He didn’t miss the sadness in her blue eyes when she added, “I love being here with my horses, but I understand oil.” She handed him a small cell phone. “If you need me, just hold down two and I’ll answer. I’m the only one who has your number, so unless you give it to someone else, it’ll be me calling if the phone rings.”

“Fair enough.”

The smile on her now-painted lips didn’t reach her eyes. “You ready to go face the world as husband and wife? When we step out of this door we’ve got to make them believe it, and with my record with men it won’t be easy. Remember, no one is to know of our agreement. As far as anyone knows, including the staff and ranch hands, we married for love and you’re here to stay.”

He thought about yelling,
No way can we pull this off
, but something in her stare stopped him. She was silently pleading, begging him to go along with her plan, and he couldn’t let her down. He had no idea why it was so important to her, but he’d keep his word. A bargain was a bargain. Until now he’d thought running the ranch was the most important part of the bargain, but now he realized that to her, their playing the happily married couple might be.

Taking her hand, he walked her to her car and they drove to a long bunkhouse a few hundred yards away from the main house. The ranch headquarters was built like a small town with the big house in the center. Trails, two tracks wide, joined most of the buildings like wagon spokes, and he noticed a few four-wheelers around that were probably used to haul goods from one building to another.

Beyond the bunkhouse was a small gravel lot that had been empty when they’d ridden by yesterday but now held several cars and trucks. Nevada had already explained that all but a few cowhands drove into work every morning. The rest went home on weekends but stayed over during the week. Her housekeeper and the bunkhouse cook had a small cabin on the property but spent their weekends at a lake cabin over near Twisted Creek.

Three men stood on the porch watching as Cord and Nevada walked up to the bunkhouse that looked big enough to be a small hotel. One tipped his hat slightly; the other two just stared. None spoke.

Cord tensed, realizing they might not know him, but they had no respect for Nevada. He knew without hearing that these men had talked about her, probably even joked about her behind her back. One of the silent men looked at her with hunger in his eyes as if she were not the boss but a streetwalker passing by.

Cord opened the door for her and waited until she stepped in. When he followed he took in the room slowly.

A dozen more ranch hands were in a great room with a long table that could easily seat thirty on one side of the room and comfortable leather chairs on the other. A middle-aged man with an apron stepped from the kitchen and smiled at Nevada. His was the only smile in the room.

“Morning, Little Miss,” the cook said.

“Morning, Galem. I’d like you to meet my new husband.” She brushed Cord’s arm, showing the first affection she’d ever shown. Her sudden caress made him jerk slightly. “Honey.” She leaned into him slightly. “This is the bunkhouse cook and a friend. He’s been with the ranch for twenty-three years.”

Galem wiped his hand on his apron and offered it to Cord. “Nice to meet you, Mr. McDowell. I heard you were coming. My youngest daughter works at the courthouse and said Nevada married Friday.”

Galem might be thin and balding, but his smile was warm and a kind of friendly Cord had rarely seen. Open. Trusting. Accepting.

Cord managed a nod as he sized up all that Galem hadn’t said. He hadn’t mentioned that she’d married for the fourth time, even though he must have known. He also hadn’t told the others, for several in the room coughed. And last, he hadn’t lied about hearing about the wedding.

“Galem, if you’ll call the others, I’d like to hold a meeting over coffee this morning.” Cord moved into his planned speech. “It will only take a few minutes and then the men can ask any questions while we eat. I’ll be here for breakfast every morning at dawn, and any man who is tired of working for the Boxed B won’t need to join us. Any man coming in after breakfast has missed a day’s work.”

Galem smiled. He didn’t need to call anyone; the men scattered in every direction. Some ran to get the others; some took their seats at the table. Change was on the wind and they all knew it.

“You like it black, Mr. McDowell?” Galem guessed.

“I do, and call me Cord. We’ve got a long day and no time for extra words.”

Galem nodded once at Cord, but Cord didn’t miss the wink he gave Nevada. To his surprise he felt a bit jealous, especially when she winked back.

She’d just flirted with the cook more than she’d flirted with him all weekend.

Putting his arm around his wife, Cord turned her toward the door. “I can handle it from here, Nevada. You probably need to get on to the office.”

She agreed, and by the speed of her walk, he guessed she wasn’t comfortable among the men filling the room. Not one man said a word to her, and she called none by name.

As soon as they were out of anyone’s hearing, she whispered, “Galem likes you. Can you believe it? He likes you. I can tell.”

“Stop winking at the cook,” Cord ordered, but she wasn’t listening.

“He never liked any of the others. Wouldn’t even speak to my first husband. Spilled boiling coffee on the second, and the third was afraid to go out to the bunkhouse when my brother told him that number two had his privates so scalded he was in constant pain for a week. You’d think Bryce would have known better than to believe my brother; they’d roomed together in college.”

“You care about what the cook thinks, Nevada?” Cord’s brain was still focusing on the wink.

“Of course. When I was little and he started working here, he was my guardian angel. More than once he stopped my brothers from picking on me. A few years ago he married Ora Mae, and she took over managing the house. He adopted her three daughters, but you’d never know they weren’t his blood from the way he brags about them. I’ve always thought Galem and Ora Mae made a cute couple. You’d think they were in their twenties and not their forties.”

Cord relaxed as he opened her car door.

She stood next to him. “I think we fooled even Galem. He seemed to really believe we were a couple. He won’t inform on any ranch hand, but he won’t lie for them either. If he thinks we’re real, so will the others.”

“Then this should help seal the deal,” Cord said as he put his hands on Nevada’s waist and pulled her to him.

Before he could change his mind, he kissed her full on the mouth. She hesitated, trying to pull away for only a few seconds before she seemed to understand. To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

He lifted her off the ground as he straightened, letting her body mold along his. The taste of her, the feel of her, the hint of apricots from her shampoo almost buckled his knees.

When she pulled away, she touched his jaw. “That should do it. Thank you for thinking of it.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispered against her cheek.

He lowered her back to the ground and she added, as cold and formal as if the kiss hadn’t just happened, “Don’t wait up for me. I may not be home until late.”

Cord watched her drive away, thinking about how kissing her for real had felt so much better than he’d thought it would. He figured he’d shock her if she knew that when he dreamed of loving, he dreamed of her. He’d even hung the clipping of her riding in a parade on his cell wall once. She’d fascinated him with what his life might have been like if they’d gone on that date ten years ago.

The clipping had lasted only a few months before his cellmate tore it down and told him to stay in the real world for a change. The picture and the dreams had lasted about as long as this marriage probably would, but while it lasted he could feel like, for once, he didn’t need to dream.

He walked back to the bunkhouse knowing everyone inside was staring at him.