Outlaw Cowboy (21 page)

Spring had always felt like a new beginning, a chance for something, but all she saw the chance for was jail or more running. She glanced at Caleb, hard-jawed and angry. If she couldn't give herself a new beginning…

“I have work to do,” Caleb muttered, about to push away from the fence, but she put a hand on his, stopping him.

She wanted to do something before she left. She had to make him understand all he'd done that was good, even if he'd done the bad stuff too. So maybe she had to push a little. “What do you think he thinks of you?”

“Huh?”

“You said something like you know what he thinks of you.”

Caleb shrugged, taking a few more steps toward the barn. “Just a lot of old, buried shit.”

“So unbury it.”

He stopped and gave her a dubious look. “What the hell for?”

“To get it off your chest. It's obviously all festering in there.” She waved at his chest. Then she adopted a sickeningly sweet smile. “Would you like me to draw you a bath? You can have a nice naked, cathartic cry? I swear I feel like a new woman.”

“Ha. Ha.”

She closed the distance between them, and because he'd let her hug him earlier, she tried again. She leaned her head into his shoulder because… She wasn't sure she had a reason other than it felt good. It felt like something she could offer. She didn't have much else. “Tell me,” she said softly and closed her eyes and breathed deep, praying to whatever was up there that he would.

“Dad and I…the history is weird. Because…” He sighed, the exhaled breath ruffling her hair. “Look, I know it sounds like one of those messed-up kid things, but Mom really did leave because of me.”

She pulled back because that couldn't be right. “Caleb—”

“I know how that it sounds, but it's true. She told me.” He disentangled himself from her and took a few steps away.

“Told you what exactly?” It wasn't as though she couldn't imagine a parent being that cruel. Obviously she'd witnessed what a parent could do to their child, but it was hard to believe it of other people's lives. That she didn't live in her own special kind of hell.

He made a vague hand motion. “That I was evil and she was scared of me and she was going to protect herself by getting far away from me. And, hey, hindsight, she was pregnant, so she was protecting Summer, I guess.”

Delia couldn't speak. He was standing there saying his mother said he was evil—to his face—and he believed it. He might pretend he didn't, but she knew he did. That little shoe box in his closet was some attempt to prove his mother wrong.

But he didn't think she was wrong.

Delia would not for one second allow that to continue. She'd seen true evil, and Caleb was as far away from it as a person could get. Still, regaling him with his good deeds wouldn't get through to him. He got all snarky when she did that. So she had to try and be reasonable, not cry and tell him he was wonderful. “If that were true, why wouldn't she have sent
you
away, or taken Mel?”

“Because Dad wouldn't let her do either.”

“Well, good. You were a child, right?”

“Five.”

“Five-year-olds aren't evil.”

“Can't they be? Did you just see my temper, Delia? I did that kind of stuff when I was a kid all the time. I threw and broke things. I hit Mom. In the face. She had a right to be scared of me.”

“You were
five
. She should have been teaching you it was wrong, not telling you that you were the problem.”

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does if it's causing this rift between you and your father.”

“Look. Dad and I have our issues, and we have two hard heads, but he never… He didn't think I was a threat. He saved me from being the worst I could be.”

Caleb ran a shaking hand through his hair, and she wanted to hold it, hold him, but he looked like he'd keep talking.

“Being paralyzed took away all the things he'd thrown his entire life into. But I don't know why… I'll never know why that had to mean us, and I really don't know how he can keep it up when Summer… She didn't do anything. Of all of us, she's the one who didn't do a damn thing wrong. And it's hard to see him treat a stranger better than he treats us, even though that isn't your fault.”

“Did you ever consider…” She trailed off. This whole butting into other people's business was new. Family dynamics that weren't “stay away from Dad” were new, and she wasn't sure she was capable of anything she was trying to accomplish. But after she had to leave, this would be the only thing she ever accomplished that wasn't for her sisters, so she'd try. “The reason he can talk to me is because I don't matter.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, I'm a stranger. You and Mel and Summer all have this baggage with him, and obviously he doesn't know how to deal with it. But I'm a random person. I don't matter. He can say whatever and it won't hurt or heal. It just is.”

A wrinkle creased his brow as he stared at her for what felt like the longest time. She wanted to squirm, which was unlike her.

“That's kind of an amazing point.”

“I'm kind of amazing.” She forced a flippant smile and a sassy hip cock. But it didn't stay, it couldn't stay, not when she finally understood why he thought so little of himself. “So are you,” she heard herself whispering before she thought better of it.

He stared, and there was this thing in her chest, squeezing her heart, doing crazy things to her brain. She couldn't love him—it wasn't possible.

She couldn't catch a full breath, and watching him, she realized his rapid breathing matched hers. He closed the distance between them, looking serious, and she couldn't put a finger on the question in his eyes.

But her brain was doing the crazy dance and whispering things like “I love you” and “please.”

“I know you're still working out what you want to do,” he said in a scratchy voice. “But…you can stay.” He reached out with an unsteady hand and brushed fingertips down her cheek. “Stay.”

The swell of emotion was too much to maintain eye contact, so she looked out over the pasture and the mountains and all this beauty.

He wanted her to stay.

And she couldn't. Not without telling him. Every second she stayed and didn't tell him was its own kind of betrayal. But the betrayal was so tempting, so… How could she resist? “Maybe for a little while.”

His hand rested over hers, and her heart somehow managed to heal and break at the same damn time.

The tentative signs of a Montana spring were starting to peek out, not just in the mountains, but in town. Georgia had her planters of pansies outside the diner, more people walked from one place to another without getting frostbite, and everything about the world seemed a little lighter.

It was way less frightening to attribute that feeling to spring instead of Delia in his bed every night. Even after a lunch with Dan, Mel, and Summer, Caleb's smile spread easily.

They'd come up with a plan for dinner with Dad on Saturday, and when they'd walked away from the diner, each going their separate ways, it had felt strangely like family. It had been a long time since he'd felt that sense of togetherness. He'd never appreciated it when he'd had it. He'd hated when things had been good, because back then he'd been certain he'd screw it up, so he made sure he did.

Something had happened in the past few weeks or so that made him want to rise above all that old shit. Maybe it was yelling at Dad. Maybe it was Mel being pregnant.

Maybe it's the woman you're falling in love with.

Yeah, that thought still made him a little nauseous. And yet instead of running away from it or being certain he'd sabotage it, he'd gotten to wondering how he could make it work. Once the situation with her father was alleviated, and Tyler's lease was done, surely they could try…something.

“Shaw.”

Caleb turned at the unfamiliar voice and met gazes with an unfamiliar woman. Her eyes swept up and down his body in open appraisal.

Weird. But then she smirked at him, and it dawned on him fully. Rose Rogers. Delia's sister.

“Ah, so I see you have a decent enough memory.”

Caleb tried to casually glance around. Yeah, he did not need Tyler or anyone who talked to Tyler seeing him talking to Rose, and considering Tyler's sister was the Georgia in Georgia's Diner across the street…

“Ashamed to be seen with me, honey buns?”

He shot her a withering look, doing his best to sound unamused, even though she reminded him so much of Delia it was
almost
amusing. Until he remembered how upset Delia had been that Rose and Steph didn't need her. “Can I
help
you?”

Rose continued to study him, all flash and swagger and I-do-not-care-that-even-talking-to-you-could-screw-up-your-life. “Summer Shaw's your sister, right?”

Rose might be Delia's sister, but Caleb didn't know her well enough to trust her, not even a little bit. But she was also Summer's boss, and Summer was loving playing at Pioneer Spirit since Rose took over. “So?”

Rose pulled a little white envelope out of her jacket pocket. She did it carefully, angling her back to the pair of county deputies standing outside of Georgia's. “I don't know shit about that girl, but I know shit about you, so I trust you'll get this in the right hands. Because if you don't, I'll find a way to make your life hell.” She smiled broadly, jiggling the envelope. She made no move to extend it to him though. She rolled her eyes. “Know anything about sleight of hand?”

“Sleight of what?”

“Ugh. Useless men. Hold out your hand for me to shake.”

That was the last thing he wanted to be seen doing, but he had a feeling standing here talking to Rose for much longer was just as bad. So he held out his hand.

She shook it, transferring the envelope into his palm. It wasn't perfect. If anyone was looking for it, they'd probably see something being exchanged, and him slipping that something into his coat pocket. But hopefully, no one was paying that close attention.

“Do you smell bacon?” Rose asked way, way too loudly for comfort. He didn't want to glance at Al and Garret standing next to their cruisers, but he did.

He got hard stares from both men, but then again, Rose was waving at them with her middle finger slightly elevated as she sauntered toward Pioneer Spirit.

Perfect. Caleb wouldn't be shocked if he turned around to find Tyler standing behind him to compound this whole thing, but somehow he got to his truck without anything other than a nasty stare from the deputies.

He immediately pushed the truck into Drive and pulled onto Main. When Al got in his cruiser and pulled out in the same direction, Caleb shoved the envelope between the seats. It wouldn't help any if Al decided to search the car, but it would keep it out of immediate sight.

But Al's sirens never sounded. He just tailed Caleb all the way to the turnoff for Shaw. When Al went straight instead of turning, Caleb realized how tightly he'd been holding on to the wheel and that he'd all but been holding his breath.

He let it out in a whoosh and pulled out the envelope. Keeping one eye on the bumpy road to Shaw, he thumbed the sides apart. Inside was cash. Lots of it.

Enough for Delia to get the hell out of Blue Valley.

He was more than a little tempted to shove it back down between the seats and pretend he'd never seen it. Because likely this changed everything—and he'd just gotten used to the idea of everything staying as it was.

* * *

Each day Delia spent at Shaw was a constant fight between a sort of elated sense of peace and belonging, and jumping at any stray sound.

And then the subsequent
tell him, you have to tell him
chorus in her brain.

It was exhausting, all this joy and despair rolled up into one. But at least there was the happy parts. Not just waking up with Caleb, but working side by side with him and Summer. Sure, almost every moment was matched by the niggling fear and the niggling guilt, but there
were
good moments, and she'd never had that before. Not like this.

Was it so wrong to hold on to it for a little while longer? At least until she knew Rose and Steph's plan had been accomplished. That wasn't…terrible.

“You okay?”

Delia glanced at Summer and forced herself to smile. She used to be a good actress. All this stress of being happy and miserable at the same time was really getting to her. “Yeah. I'm not sure this fence is really going to solve the problem.”

Summer wrinkled her nose at the little makeshift fence they were posting around her hardscrabble garden. No matter how many times Delia told her it was too early, once Summer got an idea in her head, she happily refused to move off course.

It was irritating and admirable. Shaw and its inhabitants were one big-ass paradox.

The faint sound of an engine echoed through the trees that nearly surrounded Summer's place. She'd become so good at listening for these things and watching for them that she'd gotten to the point where she could pinpoint exactly where the vehicle was.

She could also guess it was a truck, instead of say, a police cruiser, and hoped like hell it was Caleb, not Tyler.

“Delia.”

“Yeah?” She couldn't tear her gaze from the trees. Since they were bare, at the exact crest of the hill, any car, truck, or devil would have to flash in front of her eyes first.

“You know if there's something bothering you, you can tell me. Maybe I can help.”

Delia whipped her head back to Summer. “What would be wrong?”

“You're jumpier with each passing day.”

“I…” She couldn't decide if she wanted to come up with an excuse or a generality. She couldn't decide anything. Anything.

Oh, crap, she was really on the edge of losing it all. The engine was getting closer, and she'd missed her chance to see who it was. What if it was Tyler looking for someone at Shaw to talk to? Or the cops. Maybe they'd figured out she had to be somewhere, and it might as well be here…

You are losing it.

But it was Caleb's truck ambling over the path to Summer's caravan. Delia let out a sigh of relief, tried to ignore the way everything inside her chest jittered like an excited dog, and everything in her gut sank with nasty guilt.

Jumpier with each passing day.
Did Caleb notice, or was that Summer's all-too-keen perceptiveness?

Caleb stepped out of the truck and walked over to them. “You guys are really getting going.”

“Your sister has zero patience.”

“Shaw trait,” he managed with a weird smile, but Summer beamed at him.

It was sweet to watch him try to big-brother her.

Then he turned to her, his expression going…odd. “Can you come with me?”

“Oh, well. Okay.” She placed her tools down next to where Summer's piles were.

“If you guys want to go have sex, you can just say it. I'm young, not stupid,” Summer muttered. They both stared at her, but when she met their gaze, she cocked her head innocently. “What? Are we pretending you two aren't a thing?”

Delia looked at Caleb, who looked at her. They hadn't exactly discussed their…thingness. She didn't want to, because then she'd have to tell him. She really would. And she was afraid of what words would fall out.

She didn't want to be that girl anymore. She didn't want to be this lying jerk either. Ah, familiar territory. Not wanting any of the options available to her.

“Not pretending,” Caleb said gruffly, his warm, calloused hand closing over her wrist. “I'll have her back in a few.”

“Well, take your time. Maybe you can
relax
Ms. Jumpy Pants over here.”

Delia was almost thirty years old and she could not remember ever once in her whole life blushing. Certainly not at sexual innuendo. But right now her cheeks were on fire.

She was really losing her touch.

Caleb tugged her over to the truck, and she tried to dig down deep to find some kind of power. Strength. Things she'd spent her whole life cultivating and relying on. Suddenly there was some good in her life and she was falling apart? How many kinds of fucked up was she?

Caleb didn't say anything and he didn't drive toward the cabin or the main house. Instead he drove a path that wound around Shaw. She'd been only about halfway up this route because it headed toward the pasture Tyler was leasing.

“Um. Is everything okay?”

Caleb kept his gaze on the path, and it took him a few moments to respond. “I think so.”

“You think?”

He pulled up to a line of fir trees along a fence. They were all but at the base of a mountain, and she couldn't see anything but the very top of the barn and the path that led down to Summer's clearing.

“Is everything okay with you?” His brow was furrowed as he pushed the truck into park. “I haven't put my finger on it, but Summer's right. You
have
been jumpy.”

“I'm fine,” she squeaked, feeling an insane pressure on her vocal chords when his eyes met hers.

The lines on his forehead deepened. “We'll come back to that, but first… I have something for you.” He dug around in his coat pocket, and she was certain she was going to black out.

What could he have for her? Whatever it was, she didn't deserve it. She tried to squeak out some words to tell him she didn't want it, but he held out an envelope, and her throat was closed shut.

“It's from Rose.”

Her throat immediately opened in a gust of breath. “Rose?” She snatched the envelope. It hadn't been sealed. Inside was money. She tore through the bills; twenties and fifties—an unreasonable amount of money—but she'd count that all out later. She was looking for a note. A word. Anything her sister might have written to give her some clue of what was happening.

Nothing. Just…money.

“Did she say anything? Have any message? Did she…”

“She just gave me this.”

“But… That can't be right! How am I supposed to know what to do if she doesn't tell me what this is
for
?”

“I think that means…” He blew out a breath. “I think that means it's for whatever you want.”

“For whatever I…” She flopped back against the seat. She could get out of Montana with this. Meet Billie and Elsie in Seattle. Start a new life. Hell, she could probably get away with changing her name and escaping the warrant business altogether.

But that would mean leaving this. Mountains and friendship and…love.

She glanced at him to find him studying her, and she looked away, feeling foolish. She'd never felt shy or unsure, not even as a teenager. She'd secreted away those feelings her whole life. Why the hell, after everything she'd been through, would they pop up now?

“You could get out of Montana, like you were talking about. Rose seemed infinitely capable of kicking anyone's ass, so I don't think you need to worry about Steph. You could start over somewhere where you don't have to worry.”

She stared at the money, willing tears not to fall. “You want me to go.” He wanted her to go, and he didn't even know everything. Ouch. She hadn't seen that one coming, but that was good. That little stab of pain would remind her that—

“Of course I don't want you to go,” he said softly.

She couldn't do this with him. She could not suddenly be the vulnerable lovelorn moron she usually had to
pretend
to be.

His hand took hers and their fingers interlaced. She wanted to hold on, to squeeze, but…

“Delia. I…” He reached out and touched her face, giving it a nudge so she had to look at him.

She immediately closed her eyes and shook her head. “No.” She saw it so clearly now. This thing she'd been avoiding. Somehow, at the worst possible moment, they'd both managed to drop their defenses and find each other.

And it'd never work.

His hand slid off her face. “No?”

“Don't say whatever you're going to say.”

“Do you…know what I'm going to say?”

“No. Yes. I don't know, but even if I'm wrong, you can't say it. I have to…”
You have to. You cannot let this continue. The money is a sign, and that look in his eyes is a sign too.
“I have to tell you something.”