Tall, Dark and Cowboy (10 page)

“Number seventeen,” Chase told him.

Floyd squinted, his slack lips twisting into a scowl. “Won’t have that kind of thing going on here. That girl…”

“That girl might as well be my sister,” Chase said. “There’s nothing going on.”

Chase could feel the doubt radiating from Floyd’s blank stare like some kind of psychic wave.

“There isn’t,” Chase said. “I blew it. There’s nothing going on, and there probably never will be. Don’t tell her I paid for the room, either. She’ll move if she finds out.”

Floyd grumbled something incomprehensible that sounded distinctly vulgar, but he lifted the credit card imprinter from under the counter and set Chase’s card in place willingly enough. Setting an old-fashioned carbon form into the machine, he grunted as he pulled the slide slowly over the card. “How many nights?”

“Give her a week,” Chase said. “Maybe that’ll be long enough for her to get over the dumb things I said.”

“Guess you liked the pancakes.”

Lacey hadn’t been sure of her reception from Pam this morning. She didn’t know how often Chase and his sister talked, but she knew she hadn’t exactly helped him the day before. Not the way Pam had wanted her to, and not the way Chase wanted her to either. But judging from Pam’s welcoming smile, she didn’t know a thing about the way the test drive had turned out.

“They were great.” Lacey swung her purse into a booth and slid in behind it. “But I think I’ll just have coffee today.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve got the batter made, so it’s on the house. I know you’ve got to get that car fixed, and that’ll run you a pretty penny even if Jeb gives you his special hot chick discount.”

Lacey flushed. “Actually, that’s why I came in.” She rushed to cover her gaffe. “I mean, I would have come to see you anyway, but I wondered if you were hiring.”

“I wish.” Pam slid into the booth across from her, propping herself against the windowsill with her legs thrust straight out on the vinyl bench. She eyed her white-shod feet with her face creased in mock pain. “I could use the help, but as you can see, business isn’t exactly booming.”

It was the answer Lacey had expected, but she still felt a dull thud of disappointment as her heart sank to the bottom of her rib cage. “Do you know anybody in town who’s got a job opening?”

Pam swiveled to face the table and leaned forward on her elbows. “Wish you’d come to town a week ago, before Chase hired Krystal. That would have been perfect.” Her plain face lit up with sudden curiosity. “Hey, how did that test drive go?”

Lacey fooled with the bundle of flatware in front of her, carefully unsticking the glued paper strip that encircled it. “I didn’t buy the truck.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“It went—not so good.”

“That’s not what I heard.” Pam gave her a knowing smile. “Cody said you two had a pretty good time.”

“It started out okay.” Lacey felt like she was teetering on the slippery rocks in the stream again. “But your brother—he was really rude that first day, Pam. I’m not sure I can get over it.”

“Oh.” Pam sighed. “You can’t just forget about it?”

“I wish I could.” As she said the words, Lacey realized they were true. She’d give anything to be able to forget what Chase had said—to be able to start fresh and finish what had started in the bed of the pickup.

“Maybe if you give it a couple days, you’ll feel better.”

Pam was definitely an optimist. A very determined, matchmaking optimist. Lacey knew she should tell her the truth—that she’d never get over what Chase had said to her—but she didn’t want to disappoint her new friend. The woman’s good cheer and sunny outlook was like a shot of oxygen, making Lacey feel lighter and stronger. Her optimism was contagious. “Maybe. Meanwhile, I need to find a job.”

***

Chase watched Lacey sashay down the sidewalk. Couldn’t the girl ever just walk? She seemed to sashay everywhere, or strut, or worse yet, trot. Trotting made her jiggle—not a lot, because she wore a decent bra. He knew that because he’d had to get past it when he’d…

Stop
thinking
about it. She shut you
down. It’s done.

He leaned sideways, almost tipping the high stool behind the counter so he could watch her cross the street. It looked like she’d gotten her outfit dirty somehow. Or maybe that was some kind of pattern on the fabric. He hadn’t noticed it this morning, though, when she’d come out of the motel room.

Not that he’d been watching for her or anything. He’d just happened to be looking up at the balcony for the seventeenth time in five minutes when she stepped out of the room. He wondered if she’d found out he’d paid for it. If so, she’d chosen to ignore it.

That was okay with him. He didn’t need her thanks. Hell, he didn’t deserve it. Paying for the room was small potatoes compared to the way he’d insulted her.

The trailer door banged against the wall with a report like a rifle.

“Chase.” Krystal’s voice was sharp as she slapped a set of keys on their hook behind the counter with a thump and a jangle. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” He frowned at the computer screen. “You sell anything?”

“Do you see customers with me?” she asked. “No. But I’m staying tonight, remember? I’ll sell something then.” She pouted. “If we had brand new Toyotas, I bet I’d have sold something.”

“Krystal, that was Link Masters and his wife. They have twenty acres outside of town and raise chickens and foster kids. They’re not going to buy a new car.”

She plopped down on the stool as he got up and stepped around the counter. “But maybe we’d get a better class of customers if we had better cars.”

“From where? Nobody in this town can afford a new car.”

“Maybe people would come up from Cheyenne.”

He didn’t bother to answer. Cheyenne had their own dealerships, so nobody was going to come to Grady for a Camry. He headed for his office, which was starting to feel more and more like a sanctuary from Krystal’s pipe dreams and nagging.

“You were watching that woman, weren’t you?”

He didn’t answer that either.

“She’s over at Jeb’s. I bet she’s applying for my old job.”

Chase paused with his handle on the doorknob. “You think?”

“Yeah. But she won’t get it. He’s holding it for me. Hoping I’ll come back.” She gave Chase a flirtatious smile. “I told him I wouldn’t. I told him you were going to start selling new cars, and I’d probably get to drive a Tundra.”

“Krystal, no car company’s giving us a dealership. Not in Grady.”

“Go ahead.” She tossed her hair and her sunny mood turned stormy as fast as a Texas tornado. “Kill my dreams.”

***

Chase slammed the door of his pickup and slouched over the steering wheel, gripping it in both hands and banging his head twice on his knuckles. He’d left Krystal behind the counter, going on and on about the relative merits of the Toyota Camry versus the Honda Accord. She didn’t know a damned thing about any of the cars on the lot, but she’d boned up on all the stuff they didn’t have.

He’d been looking forward to skipping town, spending a quiet evening at home—but Pam had run over with a bag of takeout for Fletcher Galt just before five.

“The dinner rush is about to start,” she said. “I don’t have time to take this to him. You can do it, right?”

It wasn’t really a question. Chase had taken the fragrant sack without a word and shrugged into his jacket.

“I put some in there for you too. Thought maybe you could stay, make sure he really eats it.”

Chase rolled his eyes. He wasn’t about to spend any more time with Galt than he had to. The guy hated his guts.

He was still stewing when he turned off the graded road onto the rutted two-track that had once been Galt’s driveway and jounced his way to the ramshackle trailer. He could see his neighbor sitting on a tattered old sofa on his porch, a shotgun cradled in his lap. As he stepped out of the truck, the old man lifted it to his shoulder and closed one eye to aim.

“Don’t shoot.” Chase lifted one hand in the air and hoisted Pam’s package in the other while he prayed that the last thing he’d see in this world wouldn’t be Galt in his holey, sagging Union suit. “I come bearing meatloaf.”

Galt lowered the gun slightly and opened his left eye. “From your sister? She make those biscuits today?”

Chase opened the bag and peered inside. “Yep.”

“Then I guess you can bring it on up.” He used the shotgun as a cane, hobbling into the house.

Chase followed him inside, noticing a distinct scent of lemon Pledge and bleach as the door opened. Someone had vacuumed the carpet, and the counters were clean. Even the picture on the TV had improved; shreds of aluminum foil topped the lopsided rabbit ears, twisted into makeshift antennae. His sister really was an angel.

Galt snatched the bag and unearthed its contents with the suppressed glee of a kid too cool for Santa opening gifts on Christmas day. He cracked the sipping slot on a Styrofoam coffee cup, releasing a torrent of rich-scented steam, then pulled out two lidded to-go plates, a bakery bag stuffed with biscuits, and a couple of smaller containers that looked like they contained some kind of dessert. Knowing Pam, it was probably pie.

Galt shoved one of the lidded containers across the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room. “Guess that one’s yours,” he said.

“Mine?”

Galt nodded, picking up a plastic fork and tucking into the meatloaf and gravy like he’d just returned from an excursion with the Donner party. “Your sister said she was going to pack for both of us. She stays to make sure I eat, said you would too, but I don’t give a shit. And don’t be thinking you’re getting those biscuits. Those are mine.”

So Pam’s excuse about the dinner rush was bullshit. She’d planned this.

Chase watched the old man wipe his chin with the back of his hand as gravy dripped from a misplaced mouthful. It was hardly an appetizing sight. The guy finally looked up from the food when he was about three-quarters finished.

“Eat,” he said, churning his free hand in a get-going gesture. “It’s getting cold.” His eyes narrowed as his gaze shifted to the smaller containers. “You going to want that pie?”

“No.” Chase shoved the container toward the old man. “You can have it.” He opened up his meatloaf and started eating. “Don’t know why I’m staying. I don’t think there’s any doubt you’re going to eat.”

He watched the old man crouch over his dinner, downing the meatloaf like a wild dog. The guy had been alone too long, and it had turned him into an ornery old cuss with no manners. Chase was probably on his way to becoming just like him.

Maybe Pam was right that he needed to help somebody to be whole. Maybe Lacey’s arrival was a second chance at life, a new purpose. Helping Lacey, protecting her, loving her, had been his mission back in high school—a mission that had ended with that smoldering kiss the night he’d rescued her from Wade. He’d told himself that night that he’d always watch out for her. It had been a boyish, foolish promise—but hadn’t that foolish boy been a better person than the bitter, cynical man he’d become?

Lacey woke the next morning with a headache that felt like the world’s worst hangover—but she hadn’t had a thing to drink. In fact, she hadn’t had any fun at all. She’d spent the night staring at the ceiling of the motel room, listening to Sinclair snore like a chain saw cutting through steel and wondering how she’d managed to mess up her life so badly.

Back when she’d left Tennessee, she’d thought she was stepping into a new life. And when she’d thrown away her Walmart ring, she’d had a clear vision of what that life was all about.

Realizing her dreams. Being on her own. She’d get a job, and then she’d get her real estate license, maybe even that marketing degree. Grady needed revitalizing even worse than Conway did. She could sell those boarded-up businesses on Main Street. The town was quaint. Adorable, really. There was an old Victorian that could be a bed-and-breakfast. They already had a great café.

But Trent had been right. Her dreams were stupid. What did she know about real estate? About business? Here she was, thinking she could make a home in Grady, and she couldn’t even find a job.

She squinted out the motel window, seeing the town through Trent’s eyes. He’d buy up a block or two of buildings and tear them down. Put up a trailer park.
That’s all these yahoos can afford
—that’s what Trent would say. There weren’t even any jobs here; she’d figured that out yesterday. Every business on Main Street seemed to be on its last shaky legs, and there was nothing but prairie dogs and bug-eyed antelope outside town for fifty miles in either direction.

Suddenly the world beyond the Grady city limits seemed like another planet, unknown, unexplored, and unwelcoming. There wasn’t a soul she knew from here to California. Here at least she had Pam—and Chase. He might not be what she’d hoped for or expected, but at least he knew who she was, and he knew she was here. Otherwise, she was about as substantial as a speck of dandelion fluff on the wind. She could disappear, and no one would even notice.

Grady might be the losingest town in the world, but right now, it was the closest thing she had to a home.

Not for long, though. She had no doubt the old guy in the lobby would eventually stick a bill under her door, or accost her in the parking lot. She’d managed to avoid making eye contact with him since the day before, but if he caught up to her tonight, she’d have to pay for her stay somehow.

Dropping into a worn captain’s chair by the room’s only window, she opened her purse and pulled out a credit card. It was silver, with sparkles like mica, and bore her name in raised letters under the account number. Her name, not Trent’s. He’d kept her on all his accounts after the divorce. He’d pretended he was being generous, but it had actually allowed him to keep on controlling her, to question her about every expense, and chide her about shopping trips and eating out.

She’d hated that, and she hated the fact that the bribes he’d taken were paying her bills. So when she’d received a junk mailing that offered her a credit card in her own name, she’d filled it out and sent it in. Now she angled the card in the sunlight, watching the silver flecks shine. She hadn’t planned on using it. She’d parceled out her money carefully and made it to her destination with a few dollars left, but the car breaking down had ruined everything.

She’d just pray that Wade wouldn’t have some way to trace it. As long as the bill didn’t go to the house or her old email account, she’d be safe. She just needed to change her address with the company. Then she’d have a month before the bill came due. A month to find a job.

Picking up the receiver on the old-fashioned phone, she dialed nine for an outside line, then poked in the customer service number on the back of the card.

“Welcome to MagiCard. Press one for English, two for Spanish,” said a smooth, canned voice.

She ran through six or eight menus, keying in the account number and listening to her choices until she finally came to an address change option. The smooth-talking virtual operator asked her to press, or say, her new address. She glanced around. The motel was on Main Street, but what the heck was the number? She flopped across the bed and opened the nightstand drawer.

Nothing. Places like this didn’t give out stationery with their address on it. She doubted anyone stayed long enough to write a letter. Hell, she doubted anyone stayed a whole night. It seemed like a by-the-hour kind of motel.

“To try again, press one,” the canned voice urged her. “To return to main menu, press two.”

She pressed one to buy more time and glanced across the street, searching for an address. There was nothing on the Quick Lube or the candle shop, but there were three shining gold numerals affixed to Chase’s trailer.

“Four-twenty-three Main Street, Grady, Wyoming,” she said clearly into the phone.

As soon as she found a place to live, she’d change it. It was the tenth of the month now, so the bill probably wouldn’t come for two weeks. She’d find a place by then—but only if she found a job.

She hung up the phone and tucked her hands under Sinclair’s furry armpits, turning him from side to side. “Looking good, bud. Keep putting weight on and you’ll be cuddly soon, like a real dog.” Sinclair huffed out a half-bark—or maybe it was a belch—and she shrugged. “Or not. Real dogs are friendly and love their owners.”

He might have put on weight, but his attitude hadn’t changed. His facial expression was still a comical blend of ennui and malice, with his eyes focused on the television and his lip curled into a snarl over his jutting underbite.

“All right. Finish watching your show, and I’ll go get something to eat.” She glanced at the TV, where Dr. Phil was lecturing a heavyset man on treating his wife better. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll learn something. You and Dr. Phil even look alike.” She scrubbed her fist over his head, earning a dagger-laced stare. “You have more hair, though.”

Food would help, she told herself on the way to the café. Food, and some female company. She needed some girl time.

***

Lacey smiled when Pam slid into the booth across from her. “So how’s your brother doing?”

“Oh, he’s the same as ever. Wish I could get Krystal away from him.”

Annie popped up from behind her mother. She must have been in the next booth, quietly taking in their conversation. “Krystal’s a hooker,” she said.

Lacey didn’t know if she should act shocked or laugh. Either way, it was all she could do to keep from spewing her sandwich all over the table.

“Annie!” Pam had decided on the shock option.

“Well, she dresses like a hooker,” Annie continued. “I think the car lot’s a front.”

“I’m cutting off your
Law
& Order
reruns,” Pam said.

“No, really. Think about it,” Annie urged. “They never sell much, and the lady just sits around all day. Uncle Chase must be making money somehow.”

“He has a ranch,” Lacey said.

“That’s boring.” Annie sat sideways at the edge of the booth, kicking her heels. “Nothing ever happens here. I want to move to New York.”

Pam gave her a stern look, and Annie slouched upstairs, grumbling under her breath.

“Kid watches too much TV,” Pam said. “Wish there was more for her to do.”

Lacey glanced up the stairs. “She still dressing up the cat?”

“Yeah, but the cat just sits around. Wish I could afford to get her a dog.”

Lacey thought of Sinclair back in the room and smiled. If only all her problems could solve themselves this easily.

“Maybe she could take care of mine.”

“You have a dog?”

“He’s not really mine. I found him at a gas station. He’s kind of ugly, but he might look good in a Onesie.” Her smile widened, thinking of the dog’s glum expression peering out from under a baby bonnet. “She could take him while I work. Heck, she could take him, period.” She ignored the spasm of regret that pressed her chest when she thought of giving up the dog. What was that all about? She didn’t even like the animal, and she’d never really planned to keep him.

“You think he’d put up with the whole dress-up thing?”

Lacey thought a moment. “He’s kind of grumpy, but I think he might like the attention. We could give it a try.”

“I couldn’t afford the vet bills.”

“Chase would pay them,” Lacey said.

“You know, he probably would. You want to bring him over later?” She hesitated. “Actually, I wondered if you could come over anyway. I know it’s short notice, but Cody’s going to a truck meet. I’d really like to go along, but there are a lot of rough redneck guys there, and I don’t want to bring Annie.”

“You want me to watch her?” Lacey felt a sudden heat behind her eyes.

“Would you mind? Do you have any plans?”

“No, I’d love to. And it would be a good time to bring Sinclair. What time?”

“Eight. It’s a beer and nachos kind of thing in the parking lot at Herbie’s Bar.”

“Sounds fun.” Lacey stood and carried her dishes to the pass-through. “I’ll go walk the dog, and then I’ll be over.”

“You could come to the next one.” Pam waggled her eyebrows. “We could double date.”

“If I had a date.”

“Chase,” Pam said hopefully. “I really think…”

“Pam, I’m not going to date your brother.”

“We’ll see,” Pam said. “He’s a good guy, and he needs you. You guys should have been together from the start.”