The Heart of a Cowboy

“Thanks. I’ll be sure to bring you some tacky, touristy T-shirt.”

He laughed a little. “I’ve been needing a new grease rag for when I work on the trucks.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Oh, go on before I tell Verona that you’re dying to find a wife as soon as possible.”

Garrett handed her off to Wyatt. “Your wife is evil.”

“I know, but she’s cute.”

He left one starry-eyed couple only to walk toward another, maneuvering through the crowd to Owen and Linnea. He playfully punched Owen in the shoulder as he had countless times before.

“I’d tell you to have a good trip, but I doubt there’s a need.”

Owen grinned. “I’m already there in my mind.”

Not wanting to think about what images were swirling through his brother’s head, Garrett pulled Linnea into a hug. “Don’t let my brother fall off the boat.”

Linnea smiled as she stepped back from him. “Oh, I plan to have him wear a life jacket anytime he leaves the cabin.”

Their dad, who was standing nearby, momentarily choked on the bite of cake he’d just taken. Garrett had to admit the image of his brother sitting down to a fancy dinner in the ship’s dining room with a big orange life jacket around his neck was pretty darn funny.

After making his final goodbyes, he made his way outside. The lack of sound as he stood on the edge of the Wildflower Inn’s parking lot made him realize just how noisy it had been inside. For the first time in several hours, he felt as if he could truly breathe. He’d rather be alone out in the middle of the ranch than in the midst of that many chattering people.

Even so, as he got into his truck and drove off the lot, the idea of going home to an empty house didn’t appeal to him. Maybe he’d run down to the Blue Falls Music Hall and see who was playing tonight. If he was lucky, being in the familiar, less formal environs would help him forget how the seed of loneliness inside him had evidently been watered and fed a healthy dose of fertilizer.

* * *

NATALIE BARELY HAD time to pull over on the side of the country road and get out of the car before throwing up what little she’d been able to eat since leaving Wichita that morning. The closer she’d gotten to Texas, the more ill she’d felt. When she’d driven through Blue Falls a few minutes before, her out-of-control nerves had her seriously considering making a U-turn and driving back to Kansas. She’d lost count of how many times she’d gone back and forth in her mind about if she could go through with telling the Brodys the truth, whether she should.

Her stomach tightened again as she held on to the bumper of the truck and dry heaved. Only through some deeply buried force of will did she bring her stomach into submission. She stood shaking for a couple more minutes until she was fairly certain her insides wouldn’t stage another revolt. Then she slowly walked back to the driver’s door, which was standing wide open, and reached inside for a bottle of water. She washed out her mouth and spit onto the edge of the asphalt before digging in her luggage for mouthwash. She followed a full minty rinse with a few more swishes of water.

After shoving the bottle of mouthwash back into the bag, she leaned against the side of the truck and took several slow, deep breaths. She lifted her gaze to the huge expanse of dark sky peppered with stars and a sliver of moon. A rush of anger bubbled up inside her that her father had put her in this position, puking on the side of a road she barely remembered from her childhood, mere minutes away from dropping a bomb in the middle of the Brodys’ lives.

She didn’t have to do this.

Yes, she did. Never in her life had she failed to keep a promise. Even before she consciously knew what she was doing, something inside her had decided that she would be the total opposite of her dad in that regard. He’d made so many promises—to quit drinking, to get another job and keep it this time, to earn enough so they could take a real family vacation that wasn’t a weekend of tent camping at the state park a half hour from their house.

Natalie closed her eyes as she rested her head back against the cool metal of the truck. No matter how many times her father had disappointed her, there was one promise he’d kept. To always love her, Allison and Renee with all his heart. If she’d ever doubted that love, that doubt would have been erased by the look in his tired eyes as he’d wept mere moments before dying. He knew, soul deep, that he’d let them all down repeatedly. She’d seen the fervent wish that he’d been a better father, a better husband, a better man.

That look and her own love for him in spite of everything was why she was here in the middle of Texas. Since the night her father had asked her to deliver his apology, she’d not gotten a full night of sleep, had been able to eat only enough to keep functioning as she helped her mother deal with the funeral arrangements and laying her dad to rest. The anxiety had built over the past week until she knew she had to get this trip over with so she could begin to live normally again.

She filled her lungs with another deep breath and tried to steady her nerves as she slid back into the driver’s seat. Exhaustion weighed down every cell in her body as she pulled onto the road. She knew she should wait until the next day to go see the Brodys, to try to get some sleep first, but if she had to wait another day to divulge her father’s secret, she thought she might explode.

Her GPS guided her the rest of the way to the Brody ranch. When she turned into the gravel drive, she hit the brakes. She’d crossed this point so many times when she’d been a kid, and happy memories were attached to each visit here. But all of those memories were about to be poisoned by the purpose for her return.

She pressed her hand to her forehead, feeling the warm flush invading her skin. With a shake of her head, she gradually released the brake and drove the rest of the way up to the house. As her lights cut across the front, revealing two basset hounds lying at the top of the steps, she remembered sitting on those same steps with Chloe playing Go Fish as Chloe’s mom sat in the rocking chair shucking corn from her garden.

But even knowing that she had to get the revelation over with, she still sat in the truck for a couple of minutes after parking and cutting the engine. She’d spent more than nine hours on the road. That should have been enough time to prep herself. Still, as she looked toward the front door she’d walked through countless times, she had to corral every speck of willpower she possessed to finally slip out of the truck.

Her feet moved slowly, the sound of her shoes on the walkway magnified by her anxiety. She found she barely had the strength to climb the steps, pausing halfway up them to pet the two hounds. When they sniffed then licked her hand, a wholly unexpected smile lifted her lips. It faded quickly when she pushed herself up the rest of the steps.

When she stood in front of the door, she had to take a few moments to catch her breath. It wasn’t too late. She could still turn around, leave, not drag the painful past back into the Brodys’ lives. But then she thought of her father, of how he’d suffered because he’d been weak. So that he could truly rest, she had to be strong for him and hope that her childhood best friend didn’t hate her for it.

She lifted her hand and knocked on the front door. The wait for someone to answer grew to an excruciating length. When no one appeared, she knocked again, harder this time. Still no answer, or in response to a third even louder knocking.

Natalie leaned her head against the door, suddenly so tired she could barely stand. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to cry that the inevitable was being drawn out even more, or if she was thankful for the temporary reprieve. She considered sitting in one of the chairs on the porch to wait for the Brodys to return home, but she was more likely than not to fall asleep there. And it only added to her sadness that the rocking chair she remembered Karen Brody sitting in had been replaced with a newer one. The old one could have broken during the intervening years, but some deep instinct told her that its absence was deliberate.

Deciding that the fact no one was home was the universe telling her she needed some sleep between now and when she faced the Brodys, she headed back to her truck. As she retraced the miles back to Blue Falls, her thoughts narrowed in on falling into bed, into oblivion.

By the time she checked into her room at the Country Vista Inn, she was dead on her feet, barely able to drag her bag into the room. She dropped it just inside the door and headed straight for the bed, not even bothering to change into pajamas.

Despite the fatigue, sleep proved elusive. She tossed and turned, on the verge of tears. All she wanted was a full night of good, solid rest so she could be better equipped to face the Brodys the next day. But as she stared at the ceiling, she remained wide-awake. To make matters worse, her stomach growled like a bear. Well, no wonder. What little she’d consumed that day was lying on the side of the road.

Unable to get comfortable, she sat up on the edge of the bed. Maybe if she got something to eat, the fact that she didn’t have to face the Brodys tonight would allow her to keep a meal down. She continued to sit, letting her mind and stomach adjust to the idea of food. When she didn’t feel as if she’d be sick again, she stood, grabbed her purse and went out in search of food.

She drove through downtown Blue Falls, snippets of childhood memories seeming to float in through her open window. Enjoying a cookie at the Mehlerhaus Bakery, watching the annual Christmas parade and tree lighting, sitting by the lake watching the sailboats glide across its shiny surface. As she rolled into the main part of the downtown business district, she saw that the Primrose Café was closed for the evening, as was the bakery. She spotted a Mexican place, but she didn’t trust her stomach enough to risk that.

As she continued down Main Street, the sound of music drew her attention. While most of the town seemed to be closed up for the night, the Blue Falls Music Hall was still hopping, if the full parking lot was any indication. The memory was hazy, but she seemed to remember the place having a limited menu from the few times her family had gone on family night, the one night each week when they didn’t serve alcohol and thus could admit children. Surely anything they had would beat the vending machine at the motel.

Natalie pulled into one of the few empty parking spots then headed inside. The twangy strands of a country song and the din of conversation hit her as soon as she opened the door. Though she was tired and not particularly in a social mood, losing herself in the crowd held more appeal than staring at the ceiling of her room while the ball of anxiety in the pit of her stomach did its best to consume her.

She weaved a path through the crowd and finally made her way to the bar. The sight of all the people drinking threatened to cause her nausea to return, but she shook it off. She knew there was nothing wrong with having an occasional drink, but she’d just seen how it could take over and ruin a person’s life and damage those around him.

After a deep breath that smelled like equal parts beer, fried food and woodsy aftershave from some nearby cowboy, she crossed the rest of the distance to the bar, arriving just in time to take possession of a bar stool vacated by a woman who’d been asked to dance.

The bartender, a middle-aged guy who wasn’t bad-looking, stepped in front of her. “What can I get you?”

She spotted a plate of cheese fries a few seats down from her and realized how long it had been since she’d had one of her favorite guilty pleasures. “I’ll take a water and some cheese fries.” She just hoped her stomach behaved itself when her own food arrived.

“Coming right up.”

Out of all the conversations surrounding her, Natalie’s hearing zeroed in on that of two women a couple of stools down from where she sat.

“I can’t believe he dumped me,” one said, then sniffed.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” the other replied. “Hey, my friend needs another drink.” Obviously, the last was directed at the bartender because he headed that way, dropping off Natalie’s water as he passed.

The first woman sounded so brokenhearted, and for a moment Natalie could understand her need to push the real world away with a drink. How much more powerful had the need been for her father considering what he’d done?

She closed her eyes briefly, doing her best to push away those thoughts or she wouldn’t be keeping the fries down long.

“Crowded tonight, isn’t it?”

It took Natalie a moment to realize the blond guy in the neatly pressed shirt was talking to her. “Um, yeah.”

He glanced back toward the dance floor. “Good song. Would you like to dance?”

She managed a small smile. “Sorry, not tonight.”