Chapter 40

Shawnee trotted all the way to Cole’s trailer, ignoring everyone who spoke to or looked at her. Go. Go now. Go fast. As long as she kept moving, she could outrun the roaring, swirling tornado of emotions bearing down on her. Once it swallowed her up…

She bailed off Salty, yanked blindly at the cinches, and threw the saddle in the tack room, then tossed her chaps in on top. Let Cole put them where he wanted, the son of a bitch. He had no right to tell her…

She flung Salty’s bridle in after the saddle, replaying what he’d said, using each and every word to fan the flames. Anger would keep her moving. Get her gone enough to be out of sight before she ran out of fuel for the fire.

“I’m sorry,” a small voice said behind her.

She whirled around to find Beni, his eyes wide and dark, tears dribbling down his cheeks. Oh, dammit.

“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” he said, choking on a sob.

“I’m fine.” She had to soften her voice, wipe the rage from her face, and the flames flickered. Threatened to die. “What you said was true, and I was planning to tell Cole tonight anyway. You just saved me the trouble.”

Beni gave a huge sniff. “Are you sure?”

“Yep. Now you’d better go find Joe while I get that saddle off of Roy. He’s ready for some grain.”

Beni was more than happy to make himself scarce, thank God. She heaved his saddle onto the pile and all but ran for her trailer, Roy trotting along behind. She tied him up, then scrambled around, rolling and securing the awning, tossing the lawn chairs aside for Cole to gather in the morning.

Inside, she heaped the coffeepot and spare dishes in the sink and flipped the switch for the slide-out. As it slowly retracted, she all but tore off her blue shirt and yanked on the first thing that came to hand, a grubby, wrinkled tank top from that morning’s horse training session. Sooner was really coming along, and it was amazing how well Cole—

She slammed the closet door on that thought, wadded her hair up in a ball at the back of her head and strangled it with a ponytail holder. That oughta hold it for about five minutes.

Five more minutes was all she needed.

Outside, she dropped the blue shirt on top of a lawn chair, grabbed Sooner’s halter from the tack room, and strode to his stall, trying to look purposeful instead of panicked. The saddle horses were in a barn separate from where the bucking stock was penned, so she was able to retrieve the sorrel and hustle back to the trailer without tripping over any of the crew. She didn’t see Cole’s massive shape jostling through the post-rodeo commotion, searching for her. He’d obviously learned everything he needed to know out in the arena. The bastard.

She jumped Roy into the trailer, latched the divider, and sent Sooner in behind him. Almost there. Just double-check the safety latches on the back door, grab that one bucket she’d left tied on the side of the trailer…

“What are you doing?”

Her heart crashed into her ribs. She spun around to find Cole standing beside the driver’s door of her pickup. No getting around him. No way to read his expression in the flickering shadows as the headlights of departing rigs swung over them.

“Rodeo’s over.” She tossed the bucket in the bed of the truck. “Time to move on.”

“You’re going now?”

She put everything she had into a don’t-give-a-shit shrug. “No reason to hang around.”

“It’s late. You’ll be alone. And I…we…” He made a helpless gesture. “You can’t just go.”

“Actually, I can. As of about half an hour ago, I no longer work for you. I’m a free woman.”

“Shawnee.” He reached out a hand, then let it fall. Another pair of headlights swung over them, throwing his face into stark relief, pain and desperation etched into every line. “I didn’t mean to…I don’t know what to say.”

Well, there’s a shock. But the snide comment stuck in her throat. The fury she’d worked up died in a giant whoosh. All she had left was the pain. The guilt. She’d done this to both of them. Plowed ahead, knowing he wasn’t like the others. Cole and his damn list. What I want in a wife. And on the surface, she could check all the boxes. Loves bucking stock. Good cook. Doesn’t care about football. Tolerates the damn dog.

But number five was the kicker.

She’d told him flat-out that she was never getting married. Wasn’t even sticking around after the end of the season. But she’d known, deep down, that he wasn’t listening. Cole had reckoned it all out in that rock-hard skull of his and concluded that it made sense. They made sense. She’d known he would. She knew him. The way he’d only thought he knew her.

She wanted to press her hand over his heart to stop the bleeding, but she was the knife shoved between his ribs. “There’s nothing to say. This is always how it was going to end.”

Tears welled in his eyes. “But I love you. And I know you—”

“Can’t be the one you need,” she cut in, before he completely destroyed her. “The one you deserve. Along with that family. That’s your future, Cole. But it’s not mine.”

She stepped closer and gently shoved him back a step—don’t breathe him in, don’t notice how he feels—so she could open the pickup door. It was better this way. Fast, like an amputation. With a dull ax.

“How can I just stand here and watch you leave?” The raw anguish in his voice tore at her guts. And God, the way he looked. She’d done that to him. Stupid, selfish bitch.

She took his wrists and raised those big, beautiful hands to his face. “Cover your eyes,” she whispered.

Then she got in the pickup and drove away.

* * *

Cole did watch her leave. Stood right there and stared until her rig disappeared behind the grandstand, headed for the highway. Kept standing as people and cars veered around him. He was oblivious to the stares. The whispers. He had no idea what to do next, so he did nothing.

“Um, excuse me?” A nervous clearing of a throat, young and feminine. “They said you’re Cole?”

He swiveled his head, one slow degree at a time, to find a teenager in a pizza delivery uniform eyeing him uncertainly.

She held up an insulated bag. “You ordered a couple of pizzas?”

He had. Called it in right before the bull riding. An hour…or a lifetime ago. He stared at the girl, unable to react.

She retreated a step toward her car, the sign on top glowing obscenely bright. “If I got the wrong guy…”

“No.” Cole fumbled for his wallet, his fingers thick and numb as he dragged out two twenties and thrust them at her.

She took them and passed him the pizza in return. There was something he should say now, but he couldn’t think what it was so he walked past the girl toward his trailer.

“Hey! You got, like, fourteen dollars change coming.”

He ignored her. Pepperoni was scrawled across the top box in black letters. He tossed the bottom box—Shawnee’s veggie pizza—in a trash can as he passed. Katie popped out from under the trailer, took a good look at him, and dropped to her belly, whining as if she’d been kicked. He let them both into his living quarters without turning on the lights, opened the pizza box and dropped it on one end of the couch. The dog looked from him to the pizza and back again, as if she suspected this was some kind of trick.

“It’s all yours,” he said.

She sniffed at it, then turned away to watch him instead. Cole grabbed the six-pack of Shiner from the fridge and twisted the top off the first beer. When he dropped onto the couch, Katie jumped up beside him. He sat, one hand on his dog, the other wrapped around a bottle, and stared into the darkness.

Shawnee was out there somewhere. Alone. Hurting. He grabbed his phone, started to dial, then stopped. He still had nothing to say. But he had to know…

Please be careful, he typed.

The reply took so long he didn’t think she was going to answer. Finally, the phone vibrated in his hand. Don’t worry. I’ve got Roy and Sooner with me.

And no matter how upset she was, Shawnee would never put her horses at risk. Wherever she’d gone, it would be someplace safe for all of them. Small comfort, but as much as he could expect. Cole drained the last of the first beer, tossed the bottle in the general direction of the trash can, and reached for another.

* * *

Shawnee had driven east, to the next ink spot of a town, where there was a saddle club arena often used by cowboys as a stopping off point between far-flung Texas rodeos. It was off the main highway, where she could hunker down without the Jacobs convoy rolling past in the morning and seeing her.

She could not handle seeing Cole again.

When the horses were penned, fed, and watered, she climbed into the trailer, stripped down, and pulled on shorts and a T-shirt. Then she fished out a prescription bottle. She dropped the first pill she shook onto her palm. Leaving it to roll into some corner, she shook out a second, popped it in her mouth, and washed it down with lukewarm water from the tap.

God, what she’d give for a sleeping potion she could shoot straight into her vein, like anesthesia. One, two, three…lights out. Instead, she crawled onto the middle of the huge, empty bed to wait for blessed oblivion. The sheets and pillows still smelled like Cole. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wrapped her arms around her knees and curled into a ball.

Once again, it was up to her to hold herself together. No more stupid hugs. No big strong arms to wrap up in. At least Cole would have his damn dog to cuddle with.

Her chin began to shake. And then her shoulders. And then her entire body. She gave in to the misery and sobbed until the pill finally worked its magic and took her under.