Loving A Cowboy (22 page)

She took a deep breath. “I guess you’ll expect me to go, then.”

Chance frowned but kept his eyes on the road. “No need. You can stay as long as you like. I’m happy with our arrangement. Aren’t you?” This time he turned and glanced at her sideways, uncertainty in his eyes.

Now that was the million-dollar question. She wanted more. But should she tell him that? She feared that if she did, he’d run so fast in the other direction, she’d never have another chance with him.

“For a while.”

He patted her leg with a warm hand. “Good. No need to change anything then.”

But for how long? And then what? These were questions she didn’t dare ask. Not right then, but soon.

* * *

The door creak drew her attention to the naked hunk of a man who was crossing the floor with a slight limp in the shadowy night.

He slipped into bed beside her, and reflexively, she curled next to him, letting the warmth of his body pour over her. She caught the sandalwood scent of his soap. She slid her hand up his chest, grazing her fingers along his neck until she cupped his chin.

“Make love to me, Chance.”

His fingers brushed her arm, sending tingles along her spine. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want. You’re what I want.”

He shifted closer, his warm flesh touching her, skin to skin, chest to chest, legs to legs. His breath, fresh and minty, blew across her cheek.

“You’re what I want too, Libby.”

But not for always. Not for forever.

He nestled between her thighs and she could feel him, hot, hard, and thick.

In the beat of her heart, he brushed his lips over hers, tasted her, overpowered her. Strong arms wrapped around her body, holding her captive. He kissed, caressed, and licked in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm, leaving a moist trail as he slowly moved down her body.

Desire pounded through her. At that moment, nothing mattered but Chance—being with him, feeling him, loving him.

* * *

“I leave for the rodeo in the morning.” Chance cradled Libby in his arms, enjoying the feel of her, knowing it would be as fleeting as the afterglow that surrounded them. They’d made slow, sensuous love to each other as rain pounded against the windows, making it feel like there was no one else in the world but them.

“I think it’s too soon, but I also know I can’t change your mind.” She traced her fingers on his chest, outlining his muscles and sending a buzz through his body. “How much will the rent be?”

“Rent? Who said anything about rent? You can stay here for free.”

“Like a kept woman?” She frowned, and he had to chuckle.

“You want to take on caring for my horses?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to take that away from Billy. He adores having the responsibility for them. Gives him a reason to bother you.”

Chance smiled. “He’s no bother. I see a lot of me in him—or rather, what I wanted to be. He’s a good kid.”

“That he is, and you’re good with him.”

Chance shrugged. He hoped he could be a positive in Billy’s life. The kid had a lot going for him, not to mention a family that actually cared about him. And he had talent around horses—both in bronc riding and in caring for them.

“You can take care of the house, then.”

“So we’d be like an old married couple, although not really a couple and definitely not married?”

“What do you mean?” The woman had a way of confusing him.

She sat up, leaned on her one elbow. “Would we be having sex? Would we be able to see other people? How is this going to work, exactly?”

“Like it is now. And of course we’d have sex when I’m back. That’s the whole idea.” An idea he liked, keeping Libby around. Having someone to come home to. “Maybe not seeing other people.” Not where Libby was concerned. “But no strings—”

“No regrets. So you’ve said.” She sounded irritated.

“I’m being straight with you, Libby. I’m not marriage material. Maybe you sensed that back then. After you left, I realized that I’m best as a loner. Loners don’t make good husbands, and they make really lousy fathers. And then, again, I haven’t had a particularly good role model in either department.”

“You’re selling yourself short. It’s a story you’re telling yourself so you don’t have to take another risk on commitment.”

“Maybe you’re telling yourself a story so you don’t have to face
my
reality. I’m just trying to be straight with you. I don’t want to end things, but I don’t see a happily ever after in the future, either.”

“For now, I guess I’ll have to go along with it if that’s the only way I can be part of your life.”

He reached for her, and she leaned her head against his chest. It had been a hard conversation, but he had needed to clear the air. He wouldn’t mislead her. Her cell phone jangled from its spot on the nightstand.

“Don’t answer it.”

“It must be important. No one would call now. It’s after midnight.”

Chance reached around her to grab the phone on the table and looked at the caller ID. He closed his eyes as he handed her the cell phone.

* * *

Chance tried to calm her down, but Libby was near hysterical as he held her in his arms, her whole body trembling. Lonnie had appeared at the door, and all Chance could do was shake his head.

“I’ve got to go. Now.” She squirmed against his embrace. He was afraid to let her go. Afraid of what she’d do.

“You are in no condition to drive. I’ll drive you.”

Tears streamed down her face like water pouring from a sprinkling can.

“How will you get back?” She squirmed again. He held her fast.

She wasn’t coming back with him? He took a deep breath. He should have seen that coming.

No strings. No regrets. That had been the plan. Too bad it hadn’t worked. But this time he had no one to blame but himself.

“Lonnie can come get me in the pickup.”

“It’s far.” She slumped in his arms like it was too much effort to fight.

“Let me worry about that.” He took another deep breath. “You okay to pack up?”

“Yes. Just let me go.”

“As long as I can drive you.” She looked at him with something akin to terror in her eyes. He wanted to make it better for her. He wished he could.

“Yes. All right.” She held herself stiff, and he released her from his embrace.

“Hurry!” she said as she scrambled off the bed. “I’ve got to get to the hospital before, before…” She shook her head. She’d been unable to say what they’d both been thinking.

Chance was surprised at how quickly Libby packed her suitcases, all three of them. Enticing Cowboy into his carrier was more of an ordeal, but some tuna fish placed at the far corner finally did the trick. Working out logistics with Lonnie was easier, and thank God the man was flexible. Lonnie was going to swing by in the morning, and with luck, they’d make Utah before the slack.

Getting back in the saddle would give him some much-needed focus, especially if Libby wouldn’t be coming back. He wouldn’t think about that now. He’d promised to get her to Cheyenne, and he would keep that promise.

Cowboy’s plaintive cries at being corralled filled the silence as Chance drove the car down the winding mountain road over the slick, wet pavement, rain drumming on the windows as if trying to get in.

Not too experienced in these kinds of emotional situations, Chance didn’t try to coax Libby to talk. He could remember the gut-punched feeling when he’d found out his mother had left him. His ten-year-old self had felt like crying knowing that what little comfort he could expect had walked away from him and that his world would be irrevocably and horribly changed. He hadn’t cried though. He wouldn’t give his ornery father the satisfaction, or the mother who would never witness it. No, he’d never showed any emotion other than anger at what had happened to him.

He knew Libby would take it hard if Sam Brennan, a man only in his early fifties, succumbed to the heart attack. She’d no doubt feel abandoned if her only living parent didn’t pull through. And if he did pull through, Libby wouldn’t leave his side. Not for a good long while.

They rode in silence except for the droning sound of rain and Cowboy’s occasional whines amid the whirr of wind and tires. He hadn’t put on any music because he wasn’t sure songs about loss and love, as country tunes were prone to be, was what she’d want to hear at that moment. Only one other car had come up the mountain to disturb the inky blackness. Even with the high beams on, it was still easy to lose the twisting road given the sheets of rain that blew across the windshield. Chance just hoped no deer or other animal decided to cross through the glare of his headlights.

He’d glanced at her a few times, but it was hard to see more than puffy eyes in the shadowed light as she stared straight ahead. As if she had felt him looking at her, she turned toward him, her face wet with tears.

“He felt a little odd and went to bed. Then Doug heard a thud like something fell, and it was Daddy.” Her voice broke.

“I’m sorry, Lib.” He felt like all kinds of fool not knowing what else to say. If only words could make it all right, but Chance knew they couldn’t. She wouldn’t rest until she saw him. He prayed the old man hung on.

“I didn’t even know he had a bad heart. Neither did Doug. But apparently when the paramedics got there, they checked his medicine chest and his nightstand and found heart medicine.” Sniffles crept into the conversation. “Why didn’t he tell us?”

“Maybe he didn’t want to worry you. Maybe he thought he had it under control.”

“I should have known. I should have seen the signs. I should have done something.”

Guilt was powerful. Sometimes it could be used for good, but most times it just beat people up. He knew. For years he thought if he’d just been a better kid, hadn’t been so noisy, cleaned his room, his mother would have stayed. That’s probably why he had worked so hard when he was with his foster family—so they wouldn’t throw him back. Then hard work just became a habit. At least something good came out of it.

“Libby, most people wouldn’t spot someone suffering from heart problems unless they were a doctor or a nurse. If your father wanted you to know, he’d have told you.” Chance shifted down to second as the slope got steeper, the curves sharper, and the pavement slicker.

“He did tell me—in his way. He wanted me to work for him, to take some of the pressure off. He kept saying he wasn’t as young as he used to be. I just thought…I thought he was just trying to get me to do what he wanted. But he needed me, and I wasn’t there for him.”

Chance felt himself sinking deeper into an emotional vortex he didn’t know anything about. Making people feel better wasn’t something he’d practiced all that often, mainly because he wasn’t close enough to most people for them to share what they were feeling. Hell.

“I doubt your father believed his health issues were this serious. Otherwise he would have told you outright. You can’t be beating yourself up like this. No matter if you were working at the dealership or not, this scenario wouldn’t have likely changed. Heart attacks have to do with genetics and a lifetime of issues building up, not just one day or incident. Your father doesn’t want you beating yourself up. He’ll tell you so himself when you see him.” If he made it through the operation.

“I just can’t help but think about him dealing with this alone. Not telling anyone. Doug didn’t know either.”

“And Doug is right there every day helping him with the business.”

“I know, but I should have been there.”

Now there were full-on sobs coming out.

“No one can know when life will take a strange turn. We can’t stand still waiting for bad things to happen.”

“I should have been there for him. That’s all. That’s what he wanted. And I couldn’t give it to him. I can’t seem to give people what they want, need, when they need it.”

“Libby…” Chance fumbled through his mind, trying to find something to say, but he was coming up empty.

“It’s true. With you, with Ben, with Daddy. I know I screwed up with you, Chance. I thought it was because I was a coward, afraid to stand up to my father. So I started asserting myself with Daddy. And I was trying to do the right thing with Ben. And all I’ve done is cause misery for everyone
and
myself.”

“I know at times like this it’s easy to turn on yourself, but Lib, I don’t think that’s what your father is looking for you to do.”

Guilt sure was a heavy load. Even when Libby left, he’d blamed himself. He wasn’t smart enough for her, he wasn’t rich enough for her, he wasn’t tame enough for her. If only he’d loved her more…

She was blowing her nose with a tissue and wiping her eyes with her hand. Chance was at a complete loss. He just wasn’t good around women and tears.

“Mandy Prescott, who runs Prescott Rodeo,” Libby began. “She knows Daddy. She said he’s a fine man. She likes him.” Libby shook her head. “I was proud of what Daddy had built but not of what built it. I was going to tell him next time I saw him how proud I was of him and of what Mandy said.” Louder sniffling.

“So you’ll tell him when we get to the hospital.” Chance just hoped Sam Brennan would be alive by the time they arrived. Doctors were operating, but no telling how it would go.

“And if he pulls through, I’m going to work my butt off for Brennan Motors.” She whispered it like a prayer. Chance heard it like a prison sentence.

Chapter 18

Chance hated hospitals. The bleached, stale smell, the glaring white lights, the scuffed ivory linoleum floors, the dusty green walls. Clinical and depressing. When he’d hurt his foot, he couldn’t wait to get out. He felt the same way now.

Besides, best to put distance and time between him and Libby as soon as possible. It wasn’t going to end well, but it was certainly going to end.

For a brief moment it had seemed they’d reached a mutually satisfying understanding. She would stay on, live at his house, hopefully commuting to a new job in Denver. He’d hit the road and start on the circuit, trying to salvage his ranking. There would be several times he’d be able to make it home between events. For once in his life, he’d have had something to look forward to and someone to come home to.