Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way) (28 page)

The priest looked down at the folder in his
lap. “According to the police, that is why the murder occurred.
Your mother was protecting Mary, and your father pushed her. She
fell and her head hit a brick on the edge of the
hearth…”

“
That man is not and never has
been my father,” Ryan corrected angrily. “My father wasn’t much
better, but he did not hit my mother.”

“
Oh, I’m sorry. Well, your
stepfather then.” The priest opened up the folder, and pulled out
some documents. “Here is your mother’s death certificate, and the
police report. You’ll need to decide on the arrangements for her. I
can help with that, if you need me to do that.”

Ryan looked down at the cream colored paper
with the official seal, and emotion burned his eyes again. He
sucked in a shuddering breath. “I’d like some help. I need to find
a church, and choose a c-c—’ Ryan bit his lower lip, and handed the
papers to Twyla. He got up from the chair and left the room to walk
down the hall blindly, as tears poured down his face. He found the
men’s room, and pushed inside then walked to the sink to lean over
it. His fingers bit into the cold porcelain, as he fought to keep
from throwing up.

He felt sick everywhere, in his stomach, his
heart, his soul. Bitter regret burned through him. If his mother
had just listened to him, moved out when he asked her to, gotten
away from that bastard, she would still be alive. If he’d have
tried a little harder to convince her to leave with him that day.
But she had asked him to leave, begged him to leave. Said it would
only make things worse for her if he stayed, or if he came
back.

Shortly thereafter he had gotten the
restraining order with his stepfather’s name on it. As long as she
stayed with Clarence James, Ryan couldn’t see her. He’d also gotten
an assault charge, that the judge had reduced down to disorderly
conduct due to the circumstances.

The door swung open then closed, but Ryan
didn’t look that way. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this.
His insides felt like someone had sliced them up with razor blades.
He now had a sister to think about, and had no idea what he was
going to do. He didn’t have a house, his life wasn’t stable enough
for a child. Hell, he’d been a tumbleweed for too many years. And
then there was his now fucked up career. There was no way he could
go back to it. How would he support a child, give her what she
needed. He wouldn’t have an income.

Fear like he’d never known in his life gripped
him. His fingers dug deeper into the bowl of the sink, until the
tips went numb, as numb as his frozen mind.

“
Ryan, I’m going to help you
through this. We’ll figure it out together, you’ve just got to stay
with me,” Twyla said in a raw whisper. “I know you’re hurting, but
we’ve got to make plans. I asked the pastor to give us a couple of
days to figure things out.”

“
Good,” Ryan croaked, knowing a
couple of centuries wouldn’t give him time to figure this
out.

“
The first thing we’re going to do
is go out to that farm where they lived, and check it out, see if
it’s anywhere you or Mary could live. If it’s not, we’ll figure
something else out.”

“
Don’t have the address,” he said
with a shuddering breath. He didn’t want to go to the place where
his mother lived with that man, where she died. How could he live
there?

“
I have it. It’s on the death
certificate. Let’s go get something to eat, then go out
there.”

“
It’s too late tonight. I need a
shower and some sleep. Let’s get a hotel, and go in the morning,”
Ryan said, as he stood and wobbled on his feet.

“
Yeah, that’s probably a better
idea.” Twyla put her arm around his waist and threw his arm over
her shoulder to lead him out of the bathroom. Her quiet steadiness
kept him on his feet, and putting one in front of the other. Ryan
was just out of it. He had no idea when he wouldn’t feel like this
again. Like he was floating in a cloud, and without a whisper of
wind to carry it anywhere.

Twyla led Ryan through the hospital, out the
door and the fresh air revived him just a little bit. He had no
idea what time it was. If he had to guess it was nearly two or
three in the morning. She walked him to the truck and he tried to
get his hand in his pocket three times, before he succeeded in
grabbing his truck keys. His hand shook so badly, he couldn’t get
them into the lock, so Twyla finally took them from him and
unlocked the door.

“
Ryan, I want to say I’ll drive,
but I don’t know how to drive a stick. Maybe we should just take a
cab,” she suggested, stepping between him and the truck door to put
her hand on his chest. “You’re not in any condition to
drive.”

He just stared at her beautiful upturned face,
her kind caring eyes and wondered how in the hell he’d gotten so
damned lucky to have her in his life. Right now, he could be
walking around in a daze, not knowing where to go, because he
couldn’t form a coherent thought, much less decisions. “Thanks for
being here, Twy.”

She smiled, and put her hand on his face.
“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. You need me, and I’m here,” she
said and shrugged. “It’s what friends do.”

The warmth of her palm felt good on his skin,
and her faint scent drifted to his nose, waking up his senses a
little. Ryan lifted his hand to her face to stroke his thumb over
her soft cheek. “Have I told you how beautiful you are and what an
amazing woman you’ve become? And how damned thankful I am to have
you for a friend?”

The feelings that gushed up inside of Ryan
were almost overwhelming. It was so much, he fought saying the
words on the tip of his tongue. He was emotional, and those words
wouldn’t do a damned thing but complicate matters between them
right now. Ryan needed this peace between them, and he needed a
friend. He needed to hang on tight to the last one he
had.

He stared into her eyes, as he lowered his
mouth toward hers. He brushed his mouth over hers and darts of fire
shot through him, but he pulled back.

Twyla sighed, and hugged him, laying her cheek
on his chest. “I’m glad you’re my friend too, Ryan.” She pushed
back. “Can you drive now?”

“
Yeah, I can drive.” He stepped
aside and helped her get up in the truck, then climbed inside
beside her. And now they were friends. Why didn’t that feel any
better than surrogate siblings? Because Ryan wanted
more.

To his surprise, Twyla didn’t scoot over to
the passenger door, she straddled the gear shift in the center of
the seat. She waited until he was settled, then put her hand on his
knee. “I’m going to watch you, so I can learn to drive a
stick.”

“
You don’t know how?” he asked in
shock.

“
No, my truck is
automatic.”

Ryan smiled at her, and shut the door. He
cranked the truck and looked at her again. “Well, as soon as things
settle down, I’ll take you out in the country and show you how to
drive a stick—” He stopped, because he realized how stupid his
statement was. She wouldn’t be around when things settled down.
Once he had a grip on things, she would go back to Dallas, and he
would most likely be here. Raising his sister Mary. He was a single
father now, had huge responsibilities that he didn’t have
twenty-four hours ago.

Some little twelve-year-old he’d never met was
going to be depending on him to keep his shit together and take
care of her, provide for her, love her. Fate had a sense of humor
choosing him for that chore. Ryan was about as unsettled as a man
could get. But that was about to change. It would have to, because
he didn’t have a damned bit of choice in the matter. His stepfather
hadn’t only taken his mother from him, he’d saddled him with a
child that wasn’t his own to raise.

The weight of it all slammed down on his
shoulders and they sank a few inches. Ryan let out a shuddering
sigh, as he leaned his arms on the steering wheel and slumped over
it trying to get a grip on the rage that consumed him
again.

Twyla’s hand rubbed the circles between his
shoulder blades, and tension eased a little, but not enough. “Why
did this have to happen now?” he asked, feeling like he was the
single resident in his own little world where nobody else had the
same fucked up problems as he did. Alone.

“
It happened because it was
supposed to happen, Ryan,” Twyla’s even, comforting voice inched
tension inside of him down another notch. “Maybe this happening got
you away from the rodeo before you wound up crippled from a horse
falling on you during a ride,” she suggested. “Or maybe it stopped
Mary from growing up damaged and choosing a man just like your
stepfather to be with, because it’s all she knew. You can’t
question His plan, baby. You just have to roll with it, and try to
enjoy the ride. It can be a good thing if you decide it’s going to
be a good thing.”

The thought that his mysterious new sister
Mary could’ve wound up with someone just like Clarence James, that
she would choose someone like him, because it was all she knew made
his stomach roll. “You know why I was so hard on you when I first
got to Dallas and found you dancing at that bar? Why I was so
freaked out?”

“
Because you’re a control freak
like my brother?” Twyla suggested, and he heard the anger and
frustration in her tone now.

Ryan lifted and turned toward her to take her
shoulders in his hands. He knew he was holding her tighter than
necessary, but Ryan couldn’t help it. He had to make her
understand.

“
No, it was because I was afraid
that would happen to you too. When Clarence wasn’t beating my
mother, he hung out in places like that, used the women there and
the alcohol to get himself worked up, so when he came home he used
my mother to work off the head of steam he’d built there. With his
fists and by raping her if necessary, if she didn’t feel like
having sex with a drunk, horny bastard who wanted to use
her.”

“
Why the hell did you go to those
places then with my brother?” Twyla asked softly, with confusion in
her tone.

“
I don’t know why I went. Those
women weren’t women I lov—” Ryan cleared his throat, and sucked the
words back in on a breath. “I didn’t care about those women. I
wasn’t scared they’d end up leaving one night with a man like
Clarence, then be in the morgue the next morning like my mother. If
that happened to you, I—I” His throat closed up, and he forced it
back open. “I always knew if she stayed with him, he’d kill her.
And it killed me not to be able to convince her to leave. To have
to sit back and wait for it to happen.”

“
I’m sorry, Ryan,” Twyla said, her
voice a little hoarse. “This is not your fault. What happened to
your mother is not your fault. You tried to help her, but you can’t
help someone unless they want that help.”

“
I wanted to help you, but you’re
right, I didn’t do it right, because of this. Twy, you’re better
than that. The world is a big place, and you are beautiful and
talented. You don’t have to cheapen yourself like that, or risk
getting attacked by a man like Clarence James or J-jared Wilkins.”
His last words came out on an exhausted breath, as he pulled her
into his arms and hugged her. “If something like that happened to
you, I’d die,” Ryan mumbled into her hair, his throat closing up
again, but he managed to squeeze out, “I was so damned scared it
would.”

Twyla pushed back from him, and put her hands
on his shoulders. “Look at me Ryan. This is important.” He lifted
his eyes to hers, and saw fierce determination there.

“
I’m going to tell you this both
for myself, and for your new little sister.” She took a deep
breath, and hesitated a moment, then let it out. “You can’t put us
in a glass bubble and set us on a shelf then send us off into the
world and expect us to know how to take care of ourselves. Without
experiencing life, we don’t know how to deal with it when we
are
in those situations. I know both you and Zack did what
you did with good intentions, but you didn’t do me any favors. If I
hadn’t had Heather to get me up to speed on things, I probably
would have wound up with one of those men. The school of hard
knocks has taught her valuable life lessons that serve her well.
Because she was allowed to take those knocks, she knows how to
avoid them in the future. Does that make sense to you?”

Ryan didn’t like it, but her words made
perfect sense to him. Too much sense. And it also meant when she
went back to Dallas, she’d probably be dancing in that bar again.
And he’d be here. He had not a right in the world asking, but he
knew he had to. “Twyla, will you please,
please
stop working
at the Cowgirl? I’d go crazy here thinking about you dancing there,
while I’m stuck here. It about drove me nuts, when I was away two
weeks on tour.”

She sighed, shook her head, then turned to sit
with her arms folded over her chest. “I’ll think about
it.”

That was better than nothing, he guessed. He
would keep trying to convince her. He had two weeks left to do
that. Ryan sat straight in the seat and put the truck in gear. “I
think I saw a hotel down the street.”

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

Ryan slapped his credit card and driver’s
license down on the counter at the only hotel with rooms available
for the night. It wasn’t night anymore, it was now almost four a.m.
and he was on the very last ounce of energy he had left.