Leaving Liberty, a Western Romance (Book 5) (Texas Hearts) (4 page)

Libby took a deep breath and reached for the towel she’d set out on the vanity. The scars that had once scared her enough not to look were still red and raw. But they didn’t scare her quite so much. These days she never thought of them like she used to when she’d had her first surgery. Back then, she’d thought everyone could see how her body had been marked forever. But now she only thought of them when she was dressing or showering. She could look at herself in the mirror now and not cry.

Jackson was going to leave. It was just as well. Libby couldn’t change his leaving any more than she could change the scars on her body. And did she really want to? Well, she’d change the scars if she could. But not Jackson Gentry’s leaving.

Cole had accused her of not telling herself the truth. Well, it was hard to look at herself and not see the truth. There would be nothing left for Jackson in Liberty when he was done with his investigation.

The heavy heart that beat in her chest was almost unbearable. She was losing everything. Everyone who’d ever meant anything to her was leaving or already gone. And soon she’d lose this ranch if Jackson Gentry got too close to the truth.

She glanced at herself in the mirror and touched the scar on her chest. It was just as well he was leaving. When he learned the truth about her, he’d want to leave too. The truth wouldn’t matter at all.

###

Her pickup rolled to a stop in front of Clyde’s General Store. Libby hesitated before she pushed the door open and climbed out into the Texas heat.

“Been a while, Libby,” Mrs. Palmer said as she walked down the sidewalk toward her parked car. “I was so sorry to hear about your daddy.”

“Thank you,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. She wasn’t ready to try to be normal around folks in town. As long as she was busy, she could get through the days ahead.

“If there’s anything you need, just give me a call.” Mrs. Palmer said, waving to her through the open window after she climbed into her car.

“I will,” she said, knowing she’d never make that call.

She waved back to Mrs. Palmer as the woman drove away and then took a deep breath of hot air before stepping through the store door.

The cool air from the air conditioner bathed her face as she walked down the aisle, picking up items as she went. She had no idea if any of the things she was picking up off the shelf were needed. But it gave her a reason to talk to the storeowner.

The day she’d met Mr. Duncan as a child, he was standing behind the counter like he was now. He always busied himself straightening items that didn’t need straightening, rearranging things on another shelf, or swapping something else out for an item that had sat there too long. Busy work her father had called it. Every once in a while the teenage boy who’d started working at the store last summer would come out with a fresh batch of goods for Mr. Duncan to rearrange on another shelf.

When he caught Libby coming his way, Mr. Duncan straightened his shirt and walked to the register.

“It’s good to see you out and about, Libby.”

“Were you afraid I’d become a vampire and shield myself from the sunlight?” she teased.

“Well, you sure could use a little more color,” he said in a fatherly tone. “It’s good to see you in good spirits. What do you have there? Andy get Libby a basket before her arm breaks and she drops these items all over the floor.”

The teen rushed behind the counter and grabbed a small blue shopping basket. One by one he took the items from Libby’s arms and dropped them inside the basket.

“Here you go, ma’am,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Satisfied, Mr. Duncan waved Andy back to his task and turned to Libby. “You usually send Cole out for supplies but he hasn’t been here in a few days. I hope he’s not under the weather.”

Her stomach sunk. “He’s out of town. On business.”

The worried look on Mr. Duncan’s face changed to sympathy. “So you’re alone at the house?”

She tried to make light of it. “I can finally have a long bubble bath without anyone complaining I’m taking too long.”

Mr. Duncan looked at her warmly. She was glad he didn’t push. “Let’s get this rung up so you can get back to your day.”

“I appreciate that.”

She remembered what it was like after John died. Every time she’d stepped off the ranch someone would give her condolences. People meant well. She knew that. But she needed normal in her life. The best way to get back to normal was to get back to ranch business and get on with life.

Thirty minutes of walking around town would show the world around her that she had. And if she kept telling herself that, maybe she’d believe it too.

* * *

Jackson hadn’t expected the “back in thirty minutes” sign on the town hall door. He glanced at his watch. It was five past noon. Sighing his frustration, he turned and read the signs of all the small businesses along Main Street.

The diner may be a good place to look for the town clerk. Rumor was Mrs. Estabrooks had been working the same desk for the last thirty years. If there was anyone in town who knew everything about what happened in Liberty, it would be her. He wanted more information about Cole Rivers. As the town clerk, she’d known something about every resident in Liberty. And what better place for him to connect with her in a non-threatening way than down at the local diner?

As Jackson walked down the sidewalk toward the diner, his stomach growled. If Mrs. Estabrooks was there, he may as well get a meal while he was at it. Just as the thought crossed his mind, he saw Libby walking out of the general store carrying a bag that looked too large for her frame. He quickly ran down the sidewalk toward her and grabbed the bag from her hands.

With the movement, she tripped over her foot as she stumbled. Then caught her footing again. Wide-eyed with surprise, she glared up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you.”

“Do what? Fall flat on my face? I nearly landed on the ground when you yanked the bag out of my arms.”

“I was trying to keep you from dropping it.”

She sputtered. “I’ve been lugging bags of feed and lifting hay bales all my life. I think I can handle a little bag from the hardware store. Don’t you think you’re being a little—”

“Gentlemanly? There must not be very many of them around here if you don’t recognize one when you see one.”

“There are plenty. But every single one of them knows when to open a door for a lady and when not to tackle her.”

Heat rose up Jackson’s face fast and hot. “Sorry about that. I was really just trying to help.”

She blew out a quick breath and shook her head. “Forget it.”

“Where’s your truck?”

She pointed to one of the many trucks parked along the road. “That one’s mine. But you don’t have to carry it to my truck.”

“Will you be quiet for the five seconds it takes us to walk down the sidewalk? It’ll take longer if you argue with me.”

She opened her mouth, ready to fire back, but she quickly shut it again and began to walk. When they reached her truck, Libby yanked open the passenger’s side door before turning to Jackson to take the bag.

“I’ve got it,” he said, moving in close and dropping the bag on the floor of the passenger’s side. The sweet fragrance of lavender and vanilla invaded his senses being so close to her. He pulled back and looked down at Libby. Her eyes said volumes.

“You look like a lost little girl,” he said gently.

“Yeah? Don’t worry. I know my way around town.”

“I wasn’t talking about your sense of direction. Life is going to be difficult for a while.”

“Made worse by your meddling.”

He shrugged. “Meddling is my job. Some people call it investigating. But that doesn’t mean I enjoy it all the time. Why don’t we not talk about this and just get a bite to eat at the diner?”

“What for?”

“Because I hate eating alone. Because I tried Janine’s rodeo burger and it’s to die for.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Of course you’re not, but you’re going to eat anyway.”

Her lips pursed into the cutest bow as she eyed him. “I told you—”

“When was the last time you ate a meal? I mean a real meal. Something that wasn’t just an apple or piece of toast you popped into your mouth.”

His voice was sharper than he’d intended it to be. But he’d seen that kind of stubbornness before.

“I’m not going to let you waste away.”

“Who says you have to watch? You’re not responsible for me.”

Frustration surged through him. “Have you always been this stubborn?”

“Yes.”

He looked at her for a few seconds and realized she wasn’t being flip. She’d answered him honestly. He chuckled, thinking about Libby as a child. She probably drove her father crazy with her stubbornness.

She folded her arms across her chest. “I grew up on a ranch with ranch hands and an older brother who liked to boss me around. It’s called survival.”

“Then use a little of that stubbornness to get yourself healthy.”

Her back straightened and her arms dropped to her side. “Who told you I’m not healthy?”

“No one has to. You look as white as a sheet and are so scrawny that you’ll probably blow away with the next gust of wind.”

Except there was nothing scrawny about Libby Calvert. She had curves in all the right places and softness to her that made a man’s fingers itch to touch her skin.

But he didn’t want to go there. The kind of thoughts he was having about the woman may have been giving him sleepless nights but Libby was driving herself into the ground for another reason.

Her bottom lip quivered and she clamped down on it hard as if she didn’t want him to see. Too late.

“Well, don’t hold back. Tell me what you really think of me.”

Jackson felt like he’d been sucker punched by her drawn expression. She’d taken his concern the wrong way and there was no way he could correct it without her knowing his feelings or thinking he was back peddling.

“Isadore is the housekeeper at my family ranch in Steerage Rock. She makes a mean enchilada that would put fire in your belly. I know Janine has enchiladas on her menu but I doubt they’re as good.”

The slight tremble he’d seen in her lip had stopped and she was looking at him quizzically. “I’ve never had Janine’s enchiladas. I’ve always cooked for everyone at my house.”

“I’d like to sample some of your specialties while I’m here in town. You know, to keep me from having to eat diner food the entire time I’m here.”

“Would you now,” she said skeptically.

“But since there’s no one else overseeing kitchen duty at your place, something tells me you haven’t done a whole lot of cooking for yourself lately, which is why a pretty girl like you is looking so thin. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Her turned down glanced told him it was true.

“The way I see it is I’m going to worry about you wasting away instead of doing my job here. If I can’t do my job, then I’ll never finish this investigation and I’m going to be hounding you for a long time. So the quickest way to get rid of me is to just have lunch with me. One meal at the diner will do you good. That way I can get back to work and you won’t pass out on the sidewalk from malnourishment.”

“I’m not going to—”

“If you do, people will think you’re swooning over me.”

“Really? You’re that confident in yourself?” She laughed and shook her head.

“You’re pretty when you smile. If I do one other thing today, it’s going to be making you smile like that again.”

She looked away as if she were embarrassed.

“Come on. It’s getting hot on this sidewalk.”

She looked at him for a long moment. “What are you doing?”

“I told you. I’m hungry.”

She shook her head. “You could eat alone.”

“I’d prefer to eat with you. And since I just heard your stomach growl, I know you’re hungry, too.”

“It was that talk of enchiladas.”

He laughed. “Let’s see if Janine can make as mean an enchilada as Isadore.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later Libby was seated across from Jackson at the diner in the center of town. She didn’t have to see what Janine had on the menu. Libby had eaten here many times as a teenager when she used to come here with Hannah and Dane after school. Dane had even worked as a short order cook in the back one summer, giving Hannah an extra reason to want to hang out here.

“People are staring at us,” she said, playing with her napkin.

“They’re staring at you.”

“How do you know that?”

His lips lifted to the most irresistible grin. “Because it’s hard not to stare at such a beautiful woman.”

“I thought I was scrawny.”

“You are scrawny. But you’re still beautiful.”

Heat crept up her cheek. “Don’t be thinking all this sweet talkin’ you’re doing is going to get me to confess my secrets.”

His smile grew wider. “That’s intriguing. Let’s talk about your secrets.”

“I thought you had paperwork to do?”

“It’s going to get done.”

“This was a bad idea,” she said, picking up her purse from the bench seat next to her.

“What’s so bad about it?”

“Nothing. Forget it. Let’s just eat so I can get back to work.”

“Tell me something.”

“No.”

He chuckled, something Libby hadn’t expected. She was acting like a spoiled child, annoyed with herself as much as with life itself. And now Jackson was laughing at her.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are so damned determined not to have a good time, aren’t you?”

“I don’t like you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t really care.”

“Sure you do. You wouldn’t have agreed to come to lunch otherwise. You like me, Libby Calvert.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Of all the cocky—”

“Whoa, now.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “We’re in public. You don’t want to say anything you’ll regret.”

“I’m already regretting this. Let’s face it, Ranger. The only reason you asked me to lunch is because you’re fishing for something. And it’s not Janine’s enchiladas.”