Once Upon a Cowboy (20 page)

She sought out Cole in the crowd, and this time, his eyes met hers—and held them.
Oh, yes. It was definitely worth it.

But even Hayley and Kyla didn’t know the whole story.

They didn’t know about that last night in Smugglers’ Gully, and if she was ever going to be able to entertain the idea of a future with Cole—ever convince him that his place was right here at Whisper Creek—
that
was a story she had to tell.

She just didn’t know if she could.

“Looks like a serious conversation over there.” Decker appeared at Cole’s elbow, hitching his chin toward Kyla and Jess.

“I know it. Maybe they’re discussing our dismal prospects as backup dancers?”

Decker laughed. “We might want to stick to ranching for the time being.”

“Speaking of ranching”—Cole took a deep breath—“I feel like a girl when I say this, but we have
got
to talk about
things here. Tomorrow. We’re both burning candles at both ends, and I don’t know about you, but it’s not working for me.”

“Nope. Me neither.”

Cole spun his beer slowly. “Listen, I know you want to keep your hands in everything, and I appreciate it—and I get it, but I think maybe it’s time you let go of some stuff and let me do it.”

Decker didn’t answer—just raised his eyebrows. Great.

“I know
this isn’t the time or place, but finding a time
or
a place these days is next to impossible. You’re out straight with the development, and you love it, right?”

Decker tipped his head, nodding slowly. “Yeah.”

“Except for the open houses.”

“Except for the open houses.” He smiled.

“You worked your ass off in L.A., Decker. You won design awards left and right. I know you worked insane hours and
had no personal life, but you loved it, right?”

“I loved the designing part of it. Didn’t love the meetings. And the glad-handing crap.”

“Because you kind of suck at that part?” Cole grinned.

“Do not. Just don’t love it. That part doesn’t come naturally to me like it does to you.”

Cole shrugged. “Well, you took all the smart genes. I had to cultivate the class clown ones.”

“Bullshit. You
seem to be the only one around here who doesn’t realize your own smarts.”

“Decker, you were valedictorian of your class. I barely graduated. You remember that, right?”

Decker shook his head, eyes on the dance floor for a long moment. “What I remember is that by the time you hit senior year, Dad was a drunk, Emily was dead, and I was gone. I imagine you had a little more on your mind than calculus.
I also remember Ma showing me your senior year report card. Which was straight A’s, so you can quit playing the class clown card.”

“Maybe,” Cole allowed.

“You still ever think about college? Wish you’d gone?”

Cole took a long swallow. “I did for a long time. Felt like Emily was gone, you were gone, Ma was swallowed up in grief, and I’d been thrown into the deep end running this ranch without
a damn clue how to swim. College sounded pretty damn good. Long hours, no sleep, no time to think about anything
but
school.”

Decker looked off into the distance again. “Did you ever have dreams at night? After Emily?”

“Yeah.” Cole nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowing. “I had the most hellish dreams—for years. They almost killed me.”

He took a deep breath, remembering the nights he’d wake up in
a cold sweat, calling Emily’s name. Almost worse were the ones where she was happy, laughing, reaching for him, and he’d wake up still trying to get to her hand.

Decker turned to him. “This is going to sound like a stupid question, but I have to know. Are you happy here, Cole? Do you feel like you could live out your days at Whisper Creek and not feel like you missed out on something else?”

“Of course I’m happy.”

“I mean really happy. Like, don’t-ever-want-to-leave happy. Stay here, get old and gray and creaky here, raise your kids here, retire here?”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“It’s coming partly from three beers giving me false courage, and partly from a letter I saw on your counter the other day.”

Shit.
He really needed a filing system. First Jess, now Decker.

Decker looked
straight at him. “Do you want to leave, Cole? Because if you do, I’ll get behind you one hundred percent. I didn’t choose to go, but at least I had the chance. You didn’t. And if you want to go, I get it. I do. I’ll miss the hell out of you, and I’ll do everything I can to get you back here, but I get it.”

Cole took a long swallow, then locked his eyes on Jess, who was still deep in conversation
with Kyla. “I thought I did.”

“But?”

“But—I don’t know, Decker. I resented the hell out of you for years for being gone and leaving me here. But that was before I knew the truth about why you left, so believe me, I’m not holding onto that resentment anymore.”

He took a deep breath, gathering courage. “I don’t know if I like the direction things are going here. Maybe that’s why I made that inquiry
in January. I feel like we’re losing the ranch to the tourists, and some days, I just want everybody to leave so we can have our home back.”

“I know.” Decker nodded. “I get it.”

“You and Kyla—I mean, you’re a great team, and you have great ideas, but I think I started to feel like the third wheel. That sounds totally middle school, but you know what I mean. When you first came back, suddenly
we were a team again, working to get this ranch back on its feet, working to know each other again. And it was working. We were making it.”

“And then Kyla.” Decker raised his eyebrows.

“Who I love like a sister. You know that. But the dynamic—changed. It wasn’t so much the Driscoll brothers anymore. It was Driscolls plus one.”

Decker nodded thoughtfully. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I don’t know. How do you bring up a conversation like that, right? And I hadn’t figured out my own screwball head yet, so I didn’t want to bring anybody else into it until I had.”

“So where’s your screwball head sit right now?”

Cole slugged his beer, looking at Jess again. God, she was just so damn beautiful. So many layers to figure out, and he wanted to be the one to do it. He couldn’t bear
the thought of somebody
else
doing it.

And he wanted to do it here. At Whisper Creek. He wanted to show her all of the hidden magic the ranch held—wanted to ride to the waterfall, tell silly stories, dance under the moon—with her. Through her eyes, it felt like he’d started to rediscover what he loved about Whisper Creek.

He took a deep breath. “My screwball head wants to stay right here, Decker.
Maybe someday that’ll change—I can’t predict that—but for right now, and for any future I can see right now, I want to be here.
Here
.”

Decker tipped his chin toward Kyla and Jess. “And I assume you’ll be working to convince someone else to make that same decision?”

“With everything I have. Yeah.” Cole nodded, more sure about this than he’d ever been about anything in his life.

Decker reached
out and clapped Cole on the back, then shoulder-hugged him. “Meet me in Dad’s office tomorrow morning after breakfast. Let’s figure things out.”

“Okay.”

“First, though”—Decker pointed at Jess—“go figure things out with Jess.”

Cole sighed, blowing out a breath as he clinked his bottle with Decker’s. “Wish me luck.”

“Hey.” Decker caught his arm as he started to walk away. “A little advice.”

Cole raised his eyebrows, but stopped himself from making a smart-ass remark.

Decker looked over at Kyla and Jess, then back at Cole. “Whatever’s in here”—he put his fist to his heart—“just tell her. Don’t be an ass like I was. Don’t wait. Don’t let her go. Do
not
let her go, or you’ll spend the rest of your days wishing you’d told her when you had the chance.”

“Hey, cowgirl.” Cole slid into
the chair beside Jess, putting his arm around her shoulders and planting a soft kiss just above her ear. “Did I mention how gorgeous you look tonight?”

Jess shivered from the sensation of his lips on her skin. “You might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“All right, then. I see I have a few more times to go, then.” He winked as he picked up his champagne and leaned it to tap Jess’s glass, then
took a sip. “God, this stuff is awful. Can I get you something from the bar instead?” He stood up, and she practically ached to have his arm around her again.

“No. Definitely no.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Not drinking this evening?”

“Nope.”

He sat back down. “Then I won’t, either.”

“Oh, please. Gallantry only needs to go so far. Go get another beer.”

“No. It’s fine. I can drink cham—” He
grimaced as he took another sip from his fluted glass. “I really can’t. I’ll be right back.”

Jess laughed as he wound his way through the tables, but had a feeling it might be a good hour before he got back, given the number of people who stopped him along the way. She watched his easy banter, his confident posture as he worked his way toward the bar, and she practically ached to have him to
herself.

Five minutes later, he was back, surprising her. “Here. I took a guess and got you something.” He handed her a tumbler filled with ice and Bailey’s. She sniffed.

“Did Kyla tell you this is my favorite?”

He sat back down. “Nope. Lucky guess. We didn’t think to stock Jell-O shots.”

“Very funny.” She stirred her drink with the tiny straw, clinking the ice cubes softly. “So among these,
what, three hundred guests, how many of them do you really know?”

“All of them except that table.” He pointed to where Hayley’s aunt and uncle held court with a couple of Daniel’s buddies from vet school.

“Okay, then, how many of them have you
dated
?”

He laughed. “No more than half of them.”

“I just can’t imagine knowing this many people well enough to invite them to your own wedding.”

“It’s
just the way it is out here.” He shrugged. “The days are long, and the work is hard, but in the end, these are the people who have your back.”

Jess thought back to her neighborhood in Boston, which was friendly enough, safe enough, tidy enough. But did she really
know
anyone very well? She’d dropped off a little basket of herbal lotions to the woman three doors down when she’d had a baby this
spring, and she’d helped Mr. Foster put up his Christmas decorations last year when he’d broken his hip—but if push came to shove, would she have a wall of people behind her? Helping her?

“What’s with the frowny face?” Cole’s voice was gentle as he touched her hand.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Sorry. Just thinking about how different life is out here.”

“It’s better.”

“Now, now. Have you
ever lived in Boston?”

“Nope. No desire to. Too many people, too much concrete and brick, not enough horses.”

“There
are
advantages to city living, you know.”

“I’m sure there are.” He shifted so he was looking directly at her. “What are some of your favorite things about living there?”

“The ocean.”

“We definitely don’t have that here. But we have lakes. Lots of lakes.”

“Not the same. Sorry.”

“Fine. Score one for Boston. What else?”

“Seafood
from
the ocean.”

He shook his head. “Not even gonna try to compete on that one. What else?”

“Cultural activities. Music, theatre, art.”

“You saying we don’t have culture here?” He raised his eyebrows. “Because I honestly think our fall festival could go toe-to-toe with your fancy art galleries and theatre troupes.”

“Oh, really?”

“Absolutely.
We attract the finest first-grade finger painters this side of the Rockies. And the music!” He whistled and took a drink of his beer. “You will never meet a louder middle school band.”

Jess laughed, picturing the town square hung with finger paint portraits while a squawky band played in the band shell at the center of the park.

“There
are
actually cities out here, you know. They just take a
little longer to get to. But in the meantime, you get to enjoy this!” He swept his hand toward the windows, where she could see the mountains framed by a sky going dusky pink.

“I’ll give you the stunning landscape point.”

“And the horses-anytime-you-want-to-ride-them point? Because I think we
definitely
have you on that one.” He smiled.

“Okay. Two points.”

He took a breath, sipped his beer.
“And there’s always the cowboy thing. Can’t get
those
back in Boston, can you?”

“They’re definitely few and far between.”

“Well, there. We’re even. So there’s only one solution.” He grinned, making her want to run her fingers over his dimples.

“Oh, boy.”

He tipped his head. “You just need to stay. Just stay for the summer. One step at a time, one day at a time.”

“You’ve got it all worked
out.”

“It’s just that it’s so simple. Not that I’m so smart.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Seriously. You know I’m right.”

Jess laughed. “Insufferable is what you are. How will I pay my bills if I’m out here in vacation paradise for two months?”

“Ha.” He pointed at her. “You just called this place paradise.”

“Slip of the tongue.”

“Truth. And we
could
pay you, you know. We would love for you
to stay. I—” He took both of her hands in his. “
I
would love for you to stay.”

Just then the deejay cranked up the volume and said, “Here’s a special request for the bridesmaid from Boston—from the groomsman from Montana.”

Cole raised his eyebrows, feigning innocence. “Now who could that be?”

Jess laughed as the music started. “Are you giving in to my eighties addiction?”

“No, but I get points
for choosing it for
you,
right?” He stood up, reaching out a hand for her. “Come on, cowgirl. Let’s dance.”

She put her hand in his, and he pulled her around to walk in front of him toward the dance floor. His hand was on the small of her back as she wound her way through the tables, and she could feel its heat as if she didn’t have layers of silk between her body and his.

When they reached
the dance floor, he spun her into his arms, taking one hand in his and settling his other one around her lower back in an old-fashioned slow-dance pose. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

He started moving, and she let him lead, let herself follow his feet, let her shoulders relax, let herself just enjoy three minutes in the arms of a gorgeous cowboy.