Cook County: Lucky in Love (13 page)

Tell her goodnight, pay for her cab ride home and leave
.

As with all the nightmares he’d had of the night, Lucky didn’t listen. He stayed there, ordering too many drinks for both of them, and when it was time to go, they left together. He paid for the room at the cheap motel just on the edge of town and immediately lost his cares in the comfort of her warm, willing body. Even in the dream, it was quick and emotionless, just two lonely, damaged people finding temporary peace in the arms of a stranger.

“That was amazing,” she said as she draped her arm over him, pressing her breasts against his back.

Lucky agreed in order to be polite. Truth was, he’d had better, but there was no need to share that. “Yeah, it was, Cindy,” he mumbled, sleep closing in fast.

“It’s Sylvia,” she corrected, her tone obviously hurt.

“That’s what I said, babe,” Lucky quickly saved himself. Nothing worse than a one-night stand going all uptight on your ass when you just wanted them to roll over and go to sleep. “You misheard me.”

“Oh.” She snuggled closer. “I’m sorry. I must have just imagined it. My fear getting the better of me. When you find something so good, you don’t want to lose it.”

Seconds from falling asleep, Lucky grumbled an unintelligible agreement. He’d agree with anything she said if it got her to shut up and sleep.

The dream fast-forwarded to the moment he woke to her kissing his back and shoulders. Rolling over onto his back, he grumbled, “Time to sleep, honey.”

She chuckled. “Such a grumpy bear. Is this what it’s going to be like when we’re married?”

Lucky’s eyes popped wide open. “Married? What the hell are you talking about?”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she blinked three times. “You said you cared about me.”

“What?” Lucky tried to replay the conversation they’d had at the bar, but the memory was lost in a drunken haze. “We’re both drunk, honey. Sleep it off. Nobody’s getting married. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

The next time he woke up it was to the sound of water pouring. He looked over and found the bed empty. An awful feeling of foreboding gnawed at his gut as he sat up and looked around the room. All he could see in the darkness was a sliver of light coming from beneath the bathroom door.

Don’t go in there!

As usual, Lucky had no control over the dream, no way of not replaying that awful moment when he found Sylvia Case dead in the bathtub.

He rose from the bed and walked toward the bathroom. His feet sank into wet carpet as he approached the door. The gnawing sensation in his gut growing stronger, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open to see the floor covered in pink water. His gaze drifted over to the sound of water pouring from the tub to the floor...

But where he should have seen a lifeless Sylvia Case staring at him, green eyes wide open in death, he saw the lifeless hazel eyes of his bride instead.

Lucky woke up screaming.

****

“Well, looks like the honeymoon is over,” Flo commented dryly as Cammie entered the diner for her first shift since the wedding. Flo had graciously allowed her to take a few days off, paid, as a wedding gift.

“Lucky and I are just fine,” she quickly replied, thankful the diner wasn’t busy. The last thing she needed was the rumor mill to start churning out that she and her new husband were already on the outs. “I’m just tired is all.” Which was mostly true. Lucky had been sleeping fitfully for the past four nights, which in turn meant she slept fitfully.

“Hmmm.” Flo’s eyebrows bobbed as Cammie joined her behind the counter. “A lot of hot, late nights and long mornings in bed?”

She felt her face flush as she tied her apron around her waist. There was a lot of that, yes, despite Lucky’s bad dreams and refusal to discuss them with her. All he would say was that he still dreamed about that night with Sylvia Case, and he didn’t want to discuss it with her. As understanding as she was trying to be, she couldn’t help but feel that the deceased woman was an intruder in her marriage.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by Flo’s bark of laughter.

“Sheesh, girl. It’s all right to admit you’ve been getting some. You’re married.” The stocky woman shook her head. “Cammie Masters. That’s a name I never thought I’d hear myself saying.”

Me neither
, Cammie thought honestly. She still found herself questioning it from time to time, wondering if this was all just a dream she would wake from one morning. It wasn’t exactly the marriage she’d dreamed of. She was sure that on some level Lucky had decided to marry her out of fear he’d gotten her pregnant their first time, or out of guilt that he’d been the one to take her virginity. She certainly hadn’t thought she’d marry a man who would spend every night of their honeymoon tossing and turning, dreaming of a woman from his past.

The bell over the door chimed, signaling a customer had entered. Cammie waited for the rangy cowboy to take a seat and walked over to take his drink order while he looked at the menu. Her leg ached, but she forced the pain out of her mind just as she had been doing since the wedding. Stress was hell on an autoimmune disease, and her meds appeared to be struggling to do their job. But she didn’t want to go to the doctor just yet, not while Lucky was going through his own turmoil with the nightmares. She wasn’t a psychologist, but she knew the nightmares and the way he clung to her protectively afterward had to stem from their recent wedding. She wouldn’t add to whatever burden he was currently carrying.

Chapter Twelve

“Well?”

Lucky shrugged his shoulders as he studied the horses in the corral. “I see a few that look good and strong. You know I’m more of a bronc buster than a breeder, right?”

“You’ve been a ranch hand for more than a few breeders,” Chance reminded him.

Lucky grunted. He couldn’t seem to talk his way out of this. He didn’t need this pressure right now. What if he picked horses that were poor quality, and Chance’s investment went down in flames? Hadn’t he failed at enough? There was too much going on in his life for him to suddenly try being a damn horse breeder.

He was already venturing into unknown territory with Cammie. What the hell did he know about being a husband? Who had been a freaking role model there? They’d never had fathers. The majority of ranch hands he’d worked for had cheated on their wives or treated them like crap. The few good role models he had were ones he’d caught on television what few times he actually watched anything, and he was sure that being a good husband was a lot easier when you only did it for a thirty minute duration each week.

And what if Cam was pregnant? Being a good father was a scarier thought than being a good husband. He knew what it was like to be born to a worthless scumbag. If he had a child, he would live in constant fear of letting him or her down.

“What’s rolling around in that head, Luck? Aside from the normal rocks,” his brother quipped. “Seriously, man. You look like hell. You could pack clothes into those bags under your eyes.”

“I’m sure you and Kenzie haven’t been spending all the hours of your nights sleeping since you got married.”

Lucky rubbed his tired, grainy eyes. The nightmares had been nonstop since he’d married Cam, and the fact that she was being affected by them made him feel even guiltier, making it that much harder for him to get any quality sleep. He’d considered sleeping on the couch so she could have some peace at night, but how in the hell could he expect to make a marriage work if he couldn’t even get through the first week without sleeping apart from his wife? Besides, Cammie already appeared hurt each time he suffered the nightmare and refused to share the details with her. She’d only see him sleeping downstairs as him brushing her off.

“You know you can’t bullshit with me, bro. As sour as your ass is when something’s bothering you, things can’t be too great with Cammie. She’s not used to your moods yet.”

“What the hell are you now? My therapist?”

Chance grinned. “Why not? You were mine not so long ago.”

“Talk you into marrying a woman and all of a sudden you’re all fluff and puff,” Lucky muttered as he inclined his head to the left, signaling for his brother to follow him to the other side of the corral where a picnic table sat.

“I’m having the nightmares,” he said as he sat on top of the table.

“That sucks,” Chance commented, joining him. “I thought you had all that under control.”

“Yeah, well…the nightmare changed a little.”

His brother eyed him curiously. “How?”

“Everything’s the same until I walk into the bathroom. It’s no longer Sylvia in the bathtub. It’s Cammie.”

“Shit.” Chance removed his Stetson long enough to rake a hand through his dark hair. “Maybe it’s time to talk to someone.”

“A quack? Hell no.”

“Have you told Cammie about—”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Lucky scoffed. “How do you tell a woman you keep seeing her dead in your nightmares? It’ll freak her the hell out and she’s got enough prob—” Lucky caught himself before he told his brother about Cammie’s health issues.

“Problems with what?” He asked, looking off into the distance, his jaw set.

Lucky knew that look. His brother knew there was a lot more going on than he was being told, and he wasn’t happy about it. And he wasn’t about to quit gnawing on that bone until he picked it clean.

“Nothing, bro. Forget about it.”

“You know me better than that, and you know I know when you’re holding out on me.” Chance turned his head to do his eagle eye stare. “If you won’t talk to someone who is qualified to help, then talk to me. Don’t let it fester inside until your only escape is at the bottom of a bottle. Cammie deserves better than that.”

“Cheap shot, asshole,” Lucky grumbled, earning a chuckle from his brother. “I can’t tell you. Believe me, I want to, but it’s Cammie’s deal, and she swore me to secrecy. Would you tell me something about Kenzie if she asked you not to?”

“Dammit.” Chance shook his head. “We’re brothers. We’re not supposed to have secrets.”

“Still, you wouldn’t tell me something if Kenzie asked you not to, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t. Damn women,” he muttered. “The more you love them the more they drive you crazy.”

****

Cammie turned the stove off and removed the stew from the hot burner as she heard Lucky’s truck pull up in the driveway. She smiled at the way she could pick the sound of it apart from any other noises wafting in from the outside.

“Did you and Chance get some good horses today?” she called out while scooping rice into bowls as the front door opened and closed.

She knew Lucky wasn’t exactly thrilled at the concept of helping Chance with his new horse breeding venture, but she hoped he would grow to like it as he gained more confidence in his ability to help run such a business. It was good work, with his family, and it would keep him near to her. Maybe that was greedy of her, but she didn’t relish the idea of staying behind while he spent time on the circuit, earning a living off a career that consisted of risking broken bones.

“Tested out a few. They got some good fire in them,” he said as he entered the kitchen. “Just got done settling them in at Chance’s.”

“Looks like the breeding business is a go then,” she said, turning to find Lucky slumped down in a chair at the kitchen table, eyes heavy and face drawn. “Hopefully you can get some sleep now.”

Lucky only grumbled something unintelligible as she set his beef stew and rice in front of him and joined him with her own bowl.

“Looks good,” he commented before taking a bite.

“It’s just something I threw together,” she mumbled, not mentioning that she’d been too tired after her shift at the diner to cook him a proper meal. She prided herself in cooking homemade from scratch food for him, but tonight all she could manage was rice and beef stew from a can.

“How attached are you to this house?”

Cammie paused, spoon halfway to her mouth, as she replayed Lucky’s unexpected question in her mind. A knot started to form in her stomach. “Do you want to move? We agreed we would keep this house. You said you liked it.”

“The house is fine. It’s a really nice house.” Lucky shoveled in another bite of stew, chewed and swallowed before pushing his bowl away. “I just want to make sure you’re safe. Chance offered me a cabin on the ranch. It’s small, but we can add on if you want. It might be a while before we can afford to, but it’s an option.”

“A cabin on the ranch?” Cammie pushed her bowl away, too, no longer hungry. “This was my grandmother’s house. She raised me here after my parents died. Why would I give this up for a cabin on Chance and Kenzie’s ranch? And what’s unsafe about this house?”

“The house itself is fine,” Lucky explained, leaning forward. “But what happens if you get really sick while I’m gone? What if you can’t get to a phone? If we lived on the ranch and Chance and Kenzie knew to check on you—”

“Check on me?” Cammie quickly stood and scooped up the bowls. She fumed as she raked the remaining stew out into the wastebasket before depositing the dirty dishes in the sink. “I’m not an invalid.”

“I never said you were.” Lucky came up behind her and reached for the dishrag in her hand. “I’ll do the dishes.”

“No!” Cammie held the rag tighter. “I can do the dishes. I can cook, I can clean. I can do everything a normal person can do. I don’t need to be looked after like a baby.”