Rebel Cowboy (21 page)

But he wanted it. He needed it. He’d never felt a…
belonging
like this. He felt good on the ice, in control, successful, and that was its own kind of good feeling, but this was more. It would endure, it would be
his
, and for the first time, that didn’t scare him—that actually made his place here feel exactly right.

“I can’t do it, Scott. If you can’t get me another tryout, that’s on you. I need at least a week’s notice. End of story.”

“So you’re quitting. You’re running away to fucking Idaho?”

Quitting. Running away.
Sucking when it counts.
“No, I’m not quitting.” But he wasn’t bending either. He was after something. Something bigger than just hockey or just the ranch. Something whole. “You get me a tryout that gives me enough time to make arrangements and get a few good skates in, I’ll take it.”

“This is fucking crazy, Dan. You cannot say no.”

“I just did.” He hit End before Scott could argue with him anymore. There was nothing to argue. He’d made up his mind and he wouldn’t falter. Not on this.

He stepped back in the barn to find Mel standing next to Mystery. She gingerly reached out, and for possibly the first time, Mystery didn’t nip at her.

If he needed any more of a sign he’d made the right choice, he could not for the life of him think of one.

“Making friends?”

She startled and Mystery must have taken her sudden movement as antagonism because she spat right on Mel’s leg.

“Oh, you fu—”

“Hey, now.”

Mel rolled her eyes at him. “So, what did Scott have to say? Tryout a go?”

He wasn’t sure why he hesitated. Maybe it was how hopeful she sounded, like she wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it was because he wanted to tell her the whole thing. Not just saying no to the too-soon tryout, but the enduring stuff. The making-this-work stuff.

He needed more time to work that out. And some motherfucking ambience when he told her. Not llama shit and hay, as much as he’d come to not be bothered by those things.

“Not yet. Close.” A lie was probably wrong, but he needed it for now.

She nodded. “Well, I’m glad it’s getting close.”

There it was again—hope that he’d leave. It shouldn’t bug him, not when he knew she didn’t think he’d stay, but… Well, whether it should or not, it bothered the hell out of him. “Why are you glad?”

“Why?” Her eyebrows drew together. “It’s what you want, right? You should get what you want.”

“And if I said I wanted here and you?” So much for ambience and lack of llama shit.

She froze, like an actual deer caught in headlights. He’d always thought that was just an expression, but her wide-eyed non-movement was exactly like that time he’d hit a deer in college.

And then, of all fucking things, her phone rang. She blinked, pulling the phone out of her pocket.

“Don’t answer it.”

She swallowed as she looked at the screen. “It’s Caleb.”

“Ignore it, Mel. We’re having an important conversation.”

She stared at him, then back down at her phone, and he held his breath, because he needed her to do this. To be willing to talk about this. To be willing to take a chance. On him. On them.

The phone went silent.

Mel kept staring at the phone, even though it had stopped ringing.
And if I said I wanted here and you?
Yeah, she’d actually much rather talk to her brother than deal with that question.

“Um, I need to call him back. Something could be wrong with Dad and—”

“Mel—”

Whatever he’d been about to say was drowned out by her ringer going off. Caleb again. “It’s… It must be important. I have to answer it. It could be…”

“Mel, please.”

But she couldn’t listen to his “please.” She couldn’t.
I want you
. This was not what she had signed on for. Him wanting her and wanting this place and that glimmer in his eye like he might stay. No. That was not the deal.

The deal was he leave just like everyone else. And she’d make sure it happened. She would. Once she dealt with Caleb.

“Hello?”

“I need you to come home. Now.”

She bristled at the sound of half demand, half desperation in her brother’s voice. The twinge of guilt it created in her stomach. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how to explain this,” Caleb said, his voice all creaky and weird. Really weird. “But I need you here. I don’t know how to…” His voice broke and trailed off.

“How to what? What’s wrong?” She gripped the phone tighter, and even though she could feel Dan behind her, she couldn’t think about him and that stuff now. Something was seriously wrong at home, and Caleb needed her.

“There’s someone here. I…I don’t know what to do with her. I can’t let Dad see…”

Mel could have sworn her heart stopped. For the longest, strangest second, she thought he might mean Mom. That she was back. “Who’s there?” she asked in little more than a whisper.

“This girl. She says… She says she’s our sister.”

“Sister.” She was swamped by a whole myriad of feelings. There was relief it wasn’t Mom, but there were other, more complicated emotions she couldn’t wade through. They just sat there, along with the ones Dan had stirred up, a big uncomfortable lump in her gut. “A sister. What, like Mom had other kids? Well, that’s not surprising, I guess.”

“No, Mel, I mean, she is Mom’s but… She says Dad’s her father too.”

“That can’t be.” Even though Caleb couldn’t see her, she shook her head, because that was ludicrous. How could they have a sibling they didn’t know about? “What is this? What is she asking for? Why is she here?” They certainly didn’t have anything to give.

“I don’t know. I need you to come home. I need your help. She…she’s twenty-one. She could be…she
could
be Dad’s. What do I do about Dad?”

Mel inhaled sharply. If she knew the answer to that question, would she be here? But this was new and big and…a sister. It couldn’t be.

Twenty-one.

Twenty-one years since Mom had jumped ship. A twenty-one-year-old sister. It really couldn’t be possible. This was some kind of mix-up.

“She looks…” His voice lowered, his breath an audible inhale and exhale over the line. “Mel, she looks just like you.”

“I’m on my way,” she managed. There were some things you could ignore. She didn’t look back at Dan, but she could feel him. Whether he liked it or not, she could ignore him. She had to. To survive whatever the hell was happening at home, she needed to ignore him completely.

“I have to go.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s complicated.” She slid the phone into her pocket, still not turning to face him. She was afraid she’d break if she looked at him and he was being all nice-guy Dan.
What if I wanted here and you?

Yeah, she didn’t have it in her right now to deal with that. She didn’t have it in her
ever
to deal with that. So she started walking away. Just keep pushing forward until something works out, right?

And if it never does?

“Okay, it’s complicated,” he said, following her. “Explain it to me.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Then tell me on the way.”

She stopped and turned to him, though she kept her gaze off of him, guarded. “On the way? No.” She shook her head and mustered her best no-nonsense tone. “I’m going.”

“And I’m going with you.”

She waved him off, stomping for the truck. “You have work to do. A ranch to take care of. You can’t run away.” It was mean of her, but she wanted her words to hit hard enough he’d stop. Anything to make him stop, stop pushing, stop being there, stop…all of it.

He didn’t.

“I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t want you.”

“Not what you said last night, sweetheart.” She supposed it was an attempt at a joke, but it was too steely. It was too right.

She wanted him, or she wouldn’t be here against every rational thought in her brain. Since when was her heart stronger than her brain? When did she let that weakness grow?

Dan plucked her keys from her hand and hopped into the driver’s seat of her truck. “You trust me to drive it, remember?” He jammed the key into the ignition, her still standing there staring at him, trying to…

Trying to…

She had no idea.

He took a deep breath, eyes on the dusty windshield. “You can trust me, period, Mel. You don’t have to be afraid to need me. I am not going to hurt you. I am not going to let you down. I am going to make this work, and I am here for you. You’re
shaking
, honey.”

He said it so emphatically, so
sure
, her eyes pricked with tears. She had to rub her unfortunately shaking hands over her face, try to find some source of calm, of strength.

“Stop treating me like…” She didn’t know how to finish it, and her voice broke anyway. She just knew he had to stop. He had to stop breaking her apart like this.

“Like what?” It was all gentle and sweet, and she wanted to punch something—him preferably. “Why do you think me offering to help is me hurting you? Whatever’s going on with your family is your problem to handle, but that doesn’t mean you can’t lean on me. It doesn’t mean I can’t drive you, can’t listen.”

“I don’t deserve any fucking help!” Oh, Jesus, she could not do this. Not now. Pour out all that gross, messed-up stuff inside of her. She had a problem to fix. A more important one than that.

“Why wouldn’t you deserve it, honey? Look around you. Everything I’ve built here is because of you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because it’s bullshit, that’s why!” She did not have time for this. She had to get home. To Caleb and Dad and…a sister. They needed her, and she didn’t have a choice.

She’d been telling herself she didn’t have a choice since she could remember. For the first time in her life, it felt like a lie. She had every choice in the world. She’d left. She could never go back if she wanted to.

Not having a choice was one of those lies she’d told herself so often she’d believed it to be true, like Shaw being
her
.

“Get in the truck. One thing at a time, huh?”

Again with the treating her like she was fragile crap. Did she look fragile? Did she act fragile? She was a motherfucking brick capable of breaking anything.

“If it’s them you want to be strong for, I get it. I do. But you don’t have to be strong for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Stop saying shit like that.”

“No.”

She could only stare at him. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

He shrugged. “I’m going to keep saying shit like that till you believe it.” He hopped out of the truck, and before she could punch him in the mouth, his mouth brushed hers. His hands grasped her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. No matter what you do or don’t do. Everyone will find a way to pick up the pieces. You are not the anchor holding this all together. You’re an equal piece like everyone else.”

It made no sense, not one ounce of it, but the kiss, the words, bolstered all her flagging strength. They slipped along the edges of all her cracks and helped seal them up.

“Now get in the truck. Tell me what happened. We’ll go from there.”

She stared at him for a few humming seconds, trying to figure out what had changed in those pretty green depths. When had everything flipped so he was the one who had it all together and she was the mess?

But she didn’t have time to figure that out, because whether Dan thought she was the anchor or not, that’s exactly what she had to make herself into.

She had to go re-anchor them all. Maybe if she did that, she’d be able to find the old Mel who could handle this. Who knew what to do. Who wasn’t bolstered or strengthened by a man’s words or kisses.

Who wasn’t precariously close to love and all the ruin that came with it.

* * *

He had no idea what he was doing, but Dan was pretty sure Mel didn’t either.

She was even holding on to his hand like it offered some kind of comfort. A comfort she would actually accept.

He drove up the long, winding drive to the Shaw place, and though there were parts of him that regretted his decision to drive her, to try and be the good, stand-up guy, he wasn’t backing down. He wasn’t choking. Not when it came to her.

She was so afraid to let her weakness show, and it hurt to watch. She’d buried her emotions in a no-nonsense strength; he’d left his behind. It seemed like opposites, but in the end they were doing the same thing. He was just clawing his way back to some kind of normal and hoping she’d meet him halfway.

So, hopefully, this was right. He was giving her what he would want. Someone to trust with the hurt, the uncertainty. No one shutting anyone out. No one was walking away. He would be here, the rock she needed even if she couldn’t admit that need.

As he pulled next to the detached garage, a big…thing came into view. Not quite an RV, not quite
not
an RV. It reminded him of those things the pioneers had supposedly used to go westward in—a covered-wagon thing, only made of wood fixed onto a truck front. Like nothing he’d ever seen.

Dan slowly pulled the car to a stop. He wished he knew something to say, but what could you say to a woman who was finding out she had a long-lost sister? He wasn’t sure there was protocol for that.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said in a whisper, so completely distraught and lost it hurt his heart.

“I’m not sure you’re supposed to.” Wasn’t that a realization? That you didn’t always have to know what to do or how to do it. That maybe it was do your best and hope it worked out, and maybe even keep trying if it didn’t.

Damn.

Caleb stepped out from in front of the caravan, then a swirl of color moved to stand next to him.

“Holy…”

“Shit,” Mel finished before he could.

The woman looked almost exactly like Mel. A little younger, a lot more feminine in her long skirt and fringy top, jewelry dripping from all parts of her.

But the face, the hair—hell, it was even long and in a braid. They had the same sharp nose, the same lush mouth. It was downright eerie.

“I don’t believe she’s Dad’s,” Mel whispered. “How could she be?”

“I thought you said the timeline made it possible.”

“Possible. But…” Caleb and the woman stood there, and Mel stared at them without making a move to get out of the truck. “How could she have left with her and not…”

Before he could register those words, the absolute pain and betrayal in them, Mel was pushing out of the truck, and he had to scramble to follow.

The relief in Caleb’s eyes was short-lived once his gaze traveled from Mel to Dan. “What’s
he
doing here?” Caleb demanded.

Dan would
love
to tell Caleb what he was doing here, and it was directly related to Caleb being a grade-A dick to Mel, but he doubted Mel would appreciate it, so he held his tongue.

Mel glanced back at him, but her gaze didn’t connect.

Then she turned to face the woman, her face perfectly chiseled control. Painful control. “I’m Mel Shaw.” She stuck her hand out to the mirror image of her.

So strong, so determined—how could she ever think she was weak or didn’t deserve help? This one-woman wrecking crew, and she didn’t even see herself. Not really.

“I’m Summer,” the woman said, and for all their physical similarities, at least their voices were nothing alike. Mel’s all tough and sharp, Summer’s lilting, almost Southern. “Summer Shaw.”

Mel twitched a little at the last name, and her hand dropped to her side. “Shaw.”

“It seems that comes as a shock,” Summer said, and anyone could tell that despite the way she spoke all easy and light, she was not a woman totally at ease or in control.

The direct opposite of Mel.

“I’m sure you can understand our confusion.” Mel sounded the same way she did when she’d negotiated a lower price on the lumber for his llama fence. All business with a thin veneer of forced politeness.

It was uncomfortable in this situation.
He
was uncomfortable in this situation. Probably because he didn’t
belong
in this situation. But here he was and here he’d stay for as long as necessary.

“Actually…” The young woman glanced at him, then back to Mel. “I don’t understand. I thought…” Again her hazel eyes, so much like Mel’s, landed on him. “I’m sorry. I’m a little confused myself. Who is that?”

All three pairs of Shaw eyes fell on him. Yeah, he was the odd man out.

“Dan is my…colleague.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered.

But Mel didn’t backtrack or look embarrassed. She glowered. “He was just leaving.”

Mel sure knew how to hit him where it hurt. Unexpectedly and out of the blue. Here he was, doing this uncomfortable thing. This thing he had no idea how to handle. He was facing up to all sorts of fears for her, and she wanted him gone.

For a second, he considered it. He even took a step toward the truck. She didn’t want him there? Fine. Good, even. He didn’t want to be here.

But he couldn’t escape the truth laid out to him, the truth she’d given him the other night. She was afraid. Afraid of not knowing what to do, and maybe, just maybe, afraid of needing him and trusting him.

No, he wouldn’t stand for that.

“Actually, I think I’ll stay put.”

Mel’s face hardened, if that was possible, but in that hard, determined expression he saw exactly what he’d seen that night in the kitchen where she’d said his care was
nice
. Where she’d finally admitted she was afraid.