Once Upon a Cowboy (15 page)

Once inside, she locked the door and headed for the couch, placing the envelope on the coffee table. With shaky fingers, she opened the clasp and tore open the end. Out slid a piece of paper with the same letterhead as before, addressed to Ms. Jessalyn Alcott, as before. She took a deep breath, but just
like last week, the words shook and blurred as she read.

…regret to inform you…will being officially challenged…identity in question…could be compelled to appear…please get in touch as soon as possible…

“Oh God.” Jess pressed her fingers to her lips. They were challenging Grampy’s will? She should have predicted it, but still. What did it mean? Tears crowded her eyes. All Grampy had done was
try to take care of her—try to give her one last gift, and now she was going to be forced to defend her right to that gift.

Would she have to go to court? Could she show up with her legal name-change paperwork, get rubber-stamped, and leave? Or was it possible a judge would want more information? What kind of questions did said judge even
ask
in this sort of situation?

Could they really make
her relive her early years—in a courtroom?

She shook her head. She wished it surprised her that Roxie and Luanne had taken this step. Wished for a moment that they had the power to step outside of their puny ten-by-thirty trailer and think about someone besides themselves. Wished they had the capacity to take responsibility for their actions and leave her alone.

But it wasn’t going to happen.
For Jess’s her entire childhood, the two of them had let nothing come between them and what they thought they deserved. Roxie’s own child was no exception.

“You little bitch.” Roxie hauled back and slapped Star’s face. Hard. “How could you let this happen?”

“How could
I
let this happen? This wasn’t my fault.”

“You know I need this job, Star. You know I can’t piss off Mel, or he’ll have my
chair rented in ten minutes flat to some bleach-blond tramp fresh out of beauty school.”

Star bit her lip, casting her eyes over her mother’s own peroxide-fried locks.

“What am I going to do?” Roxie paced, cigarette loose in her hand. Mesmerized, Star watched the ash tip grow, grow, grow.

“You could always quit. There are plenty of other salons.”

“Quit? Quit! Are you out of your effing little
head? Where’m I gonna find work at my age? Mel’s good to work for. I got a good spot by the door, and the other girls mind their own business. I can’t quit.”

Star breathed in, breathed out, trying to count the breaths as she filled her lungs.
One-two-three
, she chanted inside her head.
Four-five-six
.

Roxie whirled on Star, slapped her again, this time on the other cheek. “What were you thinking,
biting him like that?”

Star winced, but planted her feet. If Roxie tasted her pain, she’d just keep slapping. “I was thinking,
Roxie
, that maybe I’d be safe in my own home. Thinking that your
boss
wouldn’t try to—to—you
know
what he tried to do!”

“Luanne warned me this was going to happen. She knew you were going to come on to him one of these days. Dammit. She was right.”

As she watched the
cigarette tip glow, a cool calmness swept over Star. Or maybe it was just hopelessness. Maybe they felt the same. She didn’t know anymore.

She licked her lips, tasted blood from where Roxie’s ring had cut her. “It’s not my fault.”

Roxie shook her head in disgust. “He said he was just kidding around with you. You take everything so damn seriously.”

“You saw what he was trying to do. You
saw
.”

Roxie’s hand shook a little bit as she tapped the ash into the sink. “I don’t know what I saw.”

“Bullshit.”

“Don’t talk like that, young lady. You know better. What man’s gonna want a trashy mouth like that?”

“Apparently your slimy boss, Roxie.”

Another slap, another wince.

“Get out of here. I don’t want to see your face. You’ve probably just cost me my job.” Roxie pulled open the creaky
fridge, grabbed a beer, cracked it open. “Luanne’s coming over. Get the hell out of here, Star. Go see that punk boyfriend of yours. Maybe you can get busy with him instead of trying to seduce my damn boss.”

Hours later, curled up in Billy’s backseat, his tattooed arms wrapped tightly around her, Star finally let her tears fall. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll take care of you. It’s just you and
me, baby. You and me. You don’t need nobody else. I’ll be good to you, baby.”

“Jess? Hey, Jess? You still in there?” Fifteen minutes after Jess had fled Ma’s kitchen, Hayley knocked on her cabin door, calling through the screen window beside it. Jess jumped, startled by the light rapping. She blew out a couple of breaths, trying to shake the memories crowding her mind, then pushed herself
off the couch, knowing Hayley wouldn’t go away if she didn’t answer.

She walked through the tiny kitchen, manufacturing her brightest smile as she opened the door. “What’s up? It’s not time to go into town yet, is it?” She cleared her throat, trying to get the shake out of her voice.

“Just playing delivery girl. There was another envelope in the mail. I didn’t see it the first time around.”

Jess’s stomach lurched at the sight of the normal-sized, perfectly benign-looking envelope in Hayley’s hand.

“You look like you think it’s going to bite.” Hayley let herself in, not waiting for an invitation. She walked straight through the tiny kitchen and into the living room, sitting down on the recliner.

“Please. Come right in.” Jess followed her, scooping the attorney’s papers off the coffee
table before Hayley could get a glimpse.

“Before I give you this envelope, I have a confession. I opened it.”

“You what?” Jess felt her eyes go wide.

“I opened it. It was in the pile with all of the wedding cards, and I just opened it without realizing it was addressed to you. And then I found this inside.”

She pulled out another envelope and flipped it over, and Jess heard herself gasp as
she caught sight of a familiar scrawl on the front.

“Jess? Who—who in the world is Star Smith?”

“Heard my wife gave you an assignment.” Decker winked as he came through the spa door later that afternoon. “Convince her to stay yet?”

Cole shrugged noncommittally, even though he knew he probably couldn’t fool Decker anyway. “She’s a big girl. She’ll make her own decisions.”

“Right. So you just
happened
to head to the stable two minutes after she did this morning?”

“Absolutely.
What can I say? I’m good.”

“Oh, you’re something, all right.” Decker gazed around the room. “So why are we here? Kyla and Jess have ideas you need me to take a look at?”

“No. We’re going upstairs, actually.”

“We’ve already got two thousand feet
down
stairs. Don’t tell me Kyla wants a two-story spa?”

“Nope.” Cole started up the stairs. “Better.”

When they had both reached the second story,
Cole walked out into the middle of the huge space. Just like on the bottom floor, windows occupied almost every square inch of wall space, bringing in light from every possible angle. In the original design for the building, they’d had fewer windows on the second story, but Kyla had insisted they mirror the downstairs, and now that he stood in the middle of the space, Cole was glad they’d gone to
the extra expense.

Future expansion,
Kyla had said.
Daycare. Executive meeting space. Wedding suite. You never know!

She’d been right, as usual, but he wasn’t viewing this space as any of those things right now. No, he had a much better vision in mind, and he had a feeling Kyla would wholeheartedly approve.

“Okay, enlighten me. Why are we here?” Decker turned around slowly. “Damn, this is a
nice space.”

Cole took a deep breath and unrolled a long piece of paper he’d been sketching on for half the night. Yeah, Decker was the architect of the family. Everyone knew that. But he’d had to take a stab at this, had to see if he could make an attempt at creating something out of all this empty space.

With four quick taps of his hammer, he pinned it up on the wall. “Take a look.”

Decker
drew his eyebrows together, stepping toward the sketch. “What’s this?”

“A vision. Just a stab at it—a crude sketch. But I’d be curious to know what you think.”

Decker put his hands on his hips, leaning in a bit to scan the drawing. Cole hated that he felt like biting his own damn fingernails while he waited to see what Decker would say.

Which was nothing.

For what felt like ten minutes he
stared, and cocked his head, then cocked it the other way, then took a step back, then forward again, but still didn’t utter a word.

“Well?” Cole finally asked, unable to take it any longer. If Decker was going to say the sketch was complete crap, he’d rather he just came right out with it, rather than take all this time to sugarcoat his feedback.

“Holy shit.”

He waited another minute while
Decker pointed at something with his index finger, tracing it along the drawing and finally nodding slowly. “Just a quick question for you: Did you sketch this out
before
you decided to try to get Jess to stay, or after?”

Cole shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Might. Am I looking at this as an apartment? A home? Or an executive rental?”

“Either. Both. All of the above. Not sure.”

Right.

Decker
nodded thoughtfully. “I like it. Like it a lot.” He pointed at the western-facing wall on the drawing. “Like how you kept this view intact from the whole place, love the open concept, and any woman would kill for that bathroom.”

“But from an architectural design perspective, does it have legs?”

“Yeah. Definitely has legs.”

“What would you do differently?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously?”

Decker nodded,
shrugging his shoulders as he turned back toward Cole. “It’s good. Really good. I’d live here.” He turned to look at the drawing again. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Cole shrugged. “Not sure. Just sat down and started sketching what I saw in my head.”
Because my damn head won’t stop churning with ideas for how to convince Jess to move out here for good. Even though a week ago I wasn’t sure
even
I
wanted to stay out here for good.

“Well, Jess is gonna love it.”

“It’s not for—”

“Sure.” Decker put on his hat and headed for the stairs. “And yet
another
woman arrives at Whisper Creek and causes me more work.”

He clomped back down to the lower level, but Cole didn’t miss the smile he was trying to hide under his grumbling. He stood for another moment in the middle of the room, gazing
out the windows toward the Rockies, then sighed as he pictured Jess in this space. Pictured her sitting on a low, wide window seat with a cup of tea and a soft blanket. Pictured her standing behind a granite countertop, looking out at the sunset as she made breakfast wearing just his shirt and nothing else. Pictured her waking up in a big, soft bed, mesmerized by that same view.

Pictured her
turning to smile at him in that big, soft bed.

He shook his head. Jesus. A week ago he’d been trying to figure out how to tell Decker and Ma he might want out, but having Jess here—seeing Whisper Creek through her eyes—was wreaking havoc with that plan.

And now, after one kiss, he had her waking up and cooking breakfast with his shirt on. But how could he help it? Getting a taste of her lips
after waiting so, so long to do so was like giving a starving man his first bite of food in ten days.

He smiled at the memory of this morning, then frowned a little. Ever since he’d left the stable, something had been niggling at him. As much as the kiss had been its own sort of long-awaited magic, something else brewed under the surface.

Because although the sweet tang of honey from her morning
mug of tea was the taste that stayed with him hours later, he’d also sensed something else, and it had him all off-kilter. Had him scared and angry at the same time.

He’d tasted fear. Just a glimmer, and it had faded, but it was still there.

Whatever had hurt her—
who
ever had hurt her—was still taking up space in her head.

He looked around the room, pictured it filled with muted colors and Native
American artwork and pottery. Pictured music playing in one corner—the mystical kind he could picture her dancing to. Pictured mounds of soft pillows and blankets.

Pictured peace.

He wanted to give her that. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t know what he was even trying to help her recover from, but he knew he wanted her to walk into this space, close the door, and feel—safe.

He picked up a
hammer and glanced one more time at the plans Decker’d just stamped his approval on. No time like the present to get started.

“Jess?” Hayley snapped her fingers. “
Jess?
” She came over to sit next to her on the couch. “Jeez, Jess. You’re as white as a sheet.”

Jess clamped her lips together. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t tell Hayley the truth.

“Jess. Hey.” Hayley turned to face her. She pointed
to the envelope Jess hadn’t quite managed to hide, and then set the other one next to it. “I have a feeling that this is none of my business, but minding my own business isn’t one of my best skills. What the hell is going on here?”

Jess took a breath, let it out. Took another, let it out. She clamped her hands together so Hayley couldn’t see the shaking.

She stood up, paced toward the kitchen,
paced back to the fireplace, back to the kitchen, where she looked out at the stables. If she told Hayley the truth, what would happen next? She and Kyla would realize Jess had been lying to them for the entire time they’d known her. She’d stacked lies on top of lies for so many years that she hardly remembered the truth anymore.

Right.

She
wished
she didn’t remember the truth. But that truth
was part of her—it was wound around her very DNA. How would her best friends feel when they found out the real story of Jessalyn Alcott?

Of Star Smith?

Jess shook her head, turning back toward the living room. Hayley waited, uncharacteristically quiet, a frightened look on her face. When Jess didn’t move, she got up, came forward gingerly, put her hand on Jess’s shoulder.

Jess flinched.

Hayley
drew her hand back, face suddenly ashen. “Jesus, Jess. You have to tell me. Whatever it is, we can handle it. I can help you. Whatever’s happening, we can figure this out.”

Jess let her shoulders sink, shook her head, looked Hayley directly in the eyes. “It’s not that simple, Hayls.”

“Of course not. I didn’t mean to simplify it, whatever
it
is. Just—can you tell me?”

“I don’t know.” Again her
voice was a whisper.

Hayley reached for her elbow, but didn’t quite touch her. “Come sit. Do you want some tea? I’ll make you some tea. Definitely. Tea.”

The last thing Jess wanted to do was add anything to her roiling stomach, but Hayley needed to do something to feel helpful, so she let her. She moved gingerly back to the couch while Hayley bustled in the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting
out a mug.

“Should I call Kyla down? Would that help, do you think?”

Jess shook her head. “She’s busy. So are you, for goodness sake. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Hayley stood at the counter while the kettle heated, and Jess could only imagine the thoughts running through her head. Jess felt terrible. The woman was supposed to be on bridal cloud number nine right now, and here she
was making tea for a bridesmaid on the edge.

“Okay.” Hayley came back into the living area a couple of minutes later and set Jess’s mug in front of her. “Drink.”

Jess dutifully picked up the mug and let its warmth seep through her chilled fingers. “Thanks, Hayls.”

Hayley picked up the envelope she’d just brought down from the lodge, scanning the return address, tracing her finger over the handwriting,
lifting one to check the postmark.

Jess just breathed—one in, one out—trying to feel the air fill her lungs. Trying not to crumble.

“So”—Hayley put the letter back on the table—“If Kyla were here, she’d have all sorts of gentle ways to get you talking, but since she’s not, we’re both a little stuck. I have no idea what this is all about, but I do know this—whatever it is, we can get through
it. All three of us together can figure out what to do, right?”

Jess couldn’t nod.
It just wasn’t that simple.

“So with that said, and since I’m not generally known for my tact or gracefulness, why don’t we just jump right to the part where you tell me what’s going on?”

Hayley leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and Jess knew she wouldn’t leave until she knew the story, whatever it might be.
On one hand, Jess loved her for it. On the other, she wished she could tell Hayley there was just a little misunderstanding she needed to work out for herself.

But Hayley would never buy it, and that was Jess’s fault. As much as she was trying to hide her fear, Hayley was seeing through her, and that was disconcerting, to say the least. Where Kyla would have hovered at the edges and eventually
worked around to getting Jess to talk, Hayley had been born with the blunt gene.

And here she sat, body tense, waiting for an answer. Jess took a deep breath, counted to ten as she let it out. Took another one and did the same.

Then, “
I’m
Star Smith. Star Smith is…me.”

“What?” Hayley drew her eyebrows together. “What do you mean,
I’m Star Smith
?” She sat back, hand to her mouth, then whispered,
“Oh my God. Are you a porn star or something?”

A surprised laugh fled Jess’s mouth.
Oh, if only it were that uncomplicated.

“No! Not a porn star. God, Hayley!”

“Well, it’s kind of a porn star name. Sorry!”

Jess picked up one of the envelopes, then dropped it like it was too hot to hold. “Star Smith is the name I was born with.”

“Oh.” Hayley leaned forward again and fingered the other envelope,
eyebrows creased. “Really? Because wow. That doesn’t sound like a name your globe-trotting parents would pick.”

Jess swallowed a snort.
Globe-trotting parents.
Just one of her many lies.

“So how did you end up as Jess Alcott, then?”

Jess sighed. If she’d had more time, maybe she’d have been able to concoct yet another cover story to layer over the other cover stories she’d already delivered
over the years, but as it was, the second envelope had caught her off guard. Hayley
finding
the envelope had upped the off guard ante sky-high, and despite her best suppression techniques, suddenly all she felt was the truth wanting to come out.

Dammit.

Hayley raised her eyebrows. “Are you adopted?”

“No.” Oh, how many times she’d wished for that to happen over the years. Wished for the social
worker to show up unannounced and scoop her out of that trailer and to a nice little suburban ranch where she could sleep in the top bunk, eat Cheerios for breakfast, and go to church, then off to visit a grandma for Sunday dinner.

“When—when did your name change? Who changed it?”

Jess sighed. “Right before college. I did.”

Hayley sat back. “Wow. That’s—huge. What did your parents think?”

“She—they…didn’t know.”

“When did they finally find out?”

Jess gulped, pointing at the envelopes. “Now, apparently.”

“
Now
?” Hayley stood up and started pacing. “I don’t get it.”

Jess took a deep breath. “I—I just needed to reinvent myself.”

“Because you were afraid to come to college with a porn star name? I don’t get it, Jess. Why didn’t you ever tell them? I mean, I know they’re overseas
all the time and you don’t see them much, but seriously? How could they not know?”

Jess sighed, sipping the tea.

“They’re not overseas. Never were. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be able to
find
overseas on a globe. And there’s not really a
they
. My father took off before I was born.”

Hayley cocked her head. “An-nd yet all through college—”