The Cowboy Next Door (2 page)

As they walked up the long driveway to the carriage-house apartment Lacey had lived in for over six years, Corry mumbled a little louder.

Lacey opened the door to her apartment and motioned her sister inside. The one room with a separate bathroom and a walk-in closet was less than five hundred square feet. Corry looked around, clearly not impressed.

“You've been living in a closet.” Corry smirked. “And I thought you were living on Walton's Mountain.”

Ignore it. Let it go. Push the old Lacey aside. “I think you should feed the baby.”

“Ya think? So now you're a baby expert.”

The old Lacey really wanted to speak up and say something mean. The new Lacey smiled. “I'm not an expert.”

Corry had done nothing but growl since they'd left the diner. Obviously she needed a fix. And she wasn't going to get one.

“Is there another room?”

“No, there isn't. We'll make do here until I can get something else.” Lacey looked around the studio apartment that had been her home since she'd arrived in Gibson.

The home she would have to give up if Corry stayed in Gibson. Starting over again didn't feel good. The baby whimpered. A six-week-old child, dependent on the adults in her life to make good choices for her.

Starting over for a baby. Lacey could do that. She would somehow make it work. She would do her best to help Corry, because that meant the baby had a chance.

Corry tossed her backpack into a corner of the room and dumped the baby, crying and working her fist in her mouth, onto the hide-a-bed that Lacey hadn't put up that morning.

Lacey lifted the baby to her shoulder and rubbed the tiny back until she quieted. Corry had walked to the small kitchen area and was rummaging through the cabinets.

“You know, Corry, since you're here, wanting a place to live, maybe you should try being nice.”

“I am being nice.” Corry turned from the cabinets and flashed a smile that didn't reach her eyes. “And your boyfriend is cute.”

“He isn't my boyfriend.” Lacey walked across the room, the baby snuggling against her shoulder. She couldn't let her sister bait her. She couldn't let her mind go in that direction, with Jay Blackhorse as the hero that saved the day. “Corry, if you're going to be here, there are a few rules.”

“Rules? I'm not fourteen anymore.”

“No, you're not fourteen, but this is my house and my life that you've invaded.”

Lacey closed her eyes and tucked the head of the baby against her chin, soft and safe. Be fair, she told herself. “I'm sorry, Corry, I know you need a place for the baby.”

“I need a place for myself, too.”

“I know that, and I'm willing to help. But I have to know that you're going to stay clean. You can't play your games in Gibson.”

Corry turned, her elfin chin tilted and her eyes flashing anger. “You think you're so good, don't you, Lacey? You came to a small town where you pretend to be someone you're not, and suddenly you're too good for your family. You're afraid that I'm going to embarrass you.”

“I'm not too good for my family. And it isn't about being embarrassed.” It was about protecting herself, and the people she cared about.

It was about not being hurt or used again. And it was about keeping her life in order. She had left chaos behind when she left St. Louis.

“You haven't been home in three years.” Corry shot the accusation at her, eyes narrowed.

No, Lacey hadn't been home. That accusation didn't hurt as much as the one about her pretending to be someone she wasn't.

Maybe because she hoped if she pretended long enough, she would actually become the person she'd always believed she could be. She wouldn't be the girl in the back of a patrol car, lights flashing and life crumbling. She wouldn't be the young woman at the back of a large church, wondering why she couldn't be loved without it hurting.

She wouldn't be invisible.

Lacey shifted the fussing baby to one side and grabbed the backpack and searched for something to feed an infant. She found one bottle and a half-empty can of powdered formula.

“Feed your daughter, Corry.”

“Admit you're no better than me.” Corry took the bottle and the formula, but she didn't turn away.

“I'm not better than you.” Lacey swayed with the baby held against her. She wasn't better than Corry, because just a few short years ago, she had been Corry.

But for the grace of God…

Her life had changed. She walked to the window and looked out at the quiet street lined with older homes centered on big, tree-shaded lawns. A quiet street with little traffic and neighbors that cared.

“Here's her bottle.” Corry shoved the bottle at Lacey. “And since the bed is already out, I'm taking a nap.”

Lacey nodded, and then she realized what had just happened. Corry was already working her. Lacey slid the bottle into the mouth of the hungry infant and moved between her sister and the bed.

“No, you're not going to sleep. That's rule number one if you're going to stay. You're not going to sleep while I work, take care of the baby and feed you. I have to move to make this possible, so you're going to have to help me out a little. I'll have to find a place, and then we'll have to pack.”

Corry was already shaking her head. “I didn't say you have to move, so I'm not packing a thing.”

Twenty-some years of battling and losing.

“You're going to feed Rachel.” Lacey held the baby out to her reluctant sister.

Corry took the baby, but her gaze shifted to the bed, the blankets pulled up to cover the pillows. For a moment Lacey almost caved. She nearly told her sister she could sleep, because she could see in Corry's eyes that she probably hadn't slept in a long time.

“Fine.” Corry sat down in the overstuffed chair that Jolynn had given Lacey when she'd moved into the carriage-house apartment behind the main house.

“I need to run down to the grocery store.” Lacey grabbed her purse. “When I get back, I'll cook dinner. You can do the dishes.”

“They have a grocery store in this town?” Corry's question drew Lacey out of thoughts that had turned toward how she'd miss this place, her first home in Gibson.

“Yes, they have a store. Do you need something?”

“Cig…”

“No, you won't smoke in my house or around Rachel.”

“Fine. Get me some chocolate.”

Lacey stopped at the door. “I'm going to get formula and diapers for the baby. I'll think about the chocolate.”

As she walked out the door, Lacey took a deep breath. She couldn't do this. She stopped next to her car and tried to think of what she couldn't do. The list was long. She couldn't deal with her sister, or moving, or starting over again.

But she couldn't mistreat Corry.

If she was going to have faith, and if she was ever going to show Corry that God had changed her life, then she had to be the person she claimed to be. She had to do more than talk about being a Christian.

She shoved her keys back into her purse and walked down the driveway. A memory flashed into her mind, ruining what should have been a relaxing walk. Jay's face, looking at her and her sister as if the two were the same person.

J
ay finished his last report, on the accident he'd worked after leaving Lacey's sister at the diner. He signed his name and walked into his boss's office. Chief Johnson looked it over and slid it into the tray on his desk.

“Do you think the sister is going to cause problems?” Chief Johnson pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Of course she will.”

“Why? Because she has a record? She could be like Lacey, really looking for a place to start over.”

“I don't know that much about Lacey. But I'm pretty sure about her sister.”

“Okay, then. Make sure you patrol past Lacey's place a few times every shift. I'll let the other guys know.” The Chief put his glasses back on. “I guess you've got more work to do when you get home?”

“It's Wednesday and Dad schedules his surgeries for today. I've got to get home and feed.”

“Tomorrow's your day off. I'll see you Friday.”

“Friday.” Jay nodded and walked out, fishing his keys out of his pocket as he walked.

He had to stop by the feed store on his way home, for the fly spray they'd ordered for him. At least he didn't have to worry about dinner.

His mom always cooked dinner for him on Wednesdays. She liked having him home again, especially with his brother and sister so far away. His sister lived in Georgia with her husband and new baby. His brother was in the navy.

It should have been an easy day to walk off the job, but it wasn't. As he climbed into his truck he was still remembering the look on Lacey's face when she watched her sister get out of the back of his car.

He knew what it was like to have everything change in just a moment. Life happened that way. A person could feel like they have it all under control, everything planned, and then suddenly, a complete change of plans.

A year ago he really had thought that by now he'd be married and living in his new home with a wife and maybe a baby of his own on the way.

Instead he was back in Gibson and Cindy was on her way to California. She'd been smarter than him; she'd realized three years of dating didn't equal love. And he was still living in the past, in love with a memory.

As he passed the store, he saw his mom's car parked at an angle, between the lines and a little too far back into the street. He smiled, because that was his mom. She lived her life inside the lines, but couldn't drive or park between them.

Other than the parking problem, they were a lot alike.

He drove to the end of the block, then decided to go back. She typically wasn't in town this time of day. Something must have gone wrong with dinner. He smiled because something usually did go wrong.

He parked in front of the store and reached for the truck-door
handle. He could see his mom inside; she was talking to Lacey Gould. He let go of the door handle and sat back to wait.

He sat in the truck for five minutes. His mom finally approached the cash register at the single counter in the store. She paid, talked to the cashier for a minute and then walked out the door. Lacey was right behind her.

Talk about a day going south in a hurry.

“Jay, you remember Lacey.” Wilma Blackhorse turned a little pink. “Of course you do, you saw her this afternoon.”

“Mom, we've met before.” He had lived in Springfield, not Canada. He'd just never really had a reason to talk to Lacey.

Until today.

“Of course you have.” His mom handed him her groceries and then leaned into the truck, resting her arms on the open window. “Well, I just rented her your grandparents' old house. And since you have tomorrow off, I told her you would help them move.”

“That really isn't necessary.” Lacey, dark hair framing her face and brown eyes seeking his, moved a little closer to his truck. “I can move myself.”

“Of course you can't. What are you going to do, put everything in the back of your car?” Wilma shook her head and then looked at Jay again.

Lacey started to protest, and Jay had a few protests of his own. He didn't need trouble living just down the road from them. His mom had no idea what kind of person Corry Gould was.

Not that it would have stopped her.

He reached for another protest, one that didn't cast stones.

“Mom, we're fixing that house up for Chad.” Jay's brother. And one summer, a long time ago, it had been Jamie's dream home. For one summer.

It had been a lifetime ago, and yet he still held on to dreams of forever and promises whispered on a summer night. His
mom had brought Jamie and her family to Gibson, and changed all of their lives forever.

“Oh, Jay, Chad won't be out of the navy for three years. If he even gets out of the navy. You know he wants to make it a career.” She patted his arm. “And you're building a house, so you don't need it.”

He opened his mouth with more objections, but his mom's eyes narrowed and she gave a short shake of her head. Jay smiled past her.

Lacey, street-smart and somehow shy. And he didn't want to like her. He didn't want to see vulnerability in her eyes.

“I'll be over at about nine in the morning.” He didn't sigh. “I'll bring a stock trailer.”

“I don't want you to have to spend your day moving me.”

He started his truck. “It won't be a problem. See you in the morning.”

“Don't forget dinner tonight,” his mom reminded.

“You don't have to cook for me. I could pick something up at the diner.”

“I have a roast in the Crock-Pot.”

That was about the worst news he'd heard all day. He shot a look past her and Lacey smiled, her dark eyes twinkling a little.

“A roast.” He nodded. “That sounds good. Lacey, maybe you all could join us for dinner.”

“Oh, I can't. I have to get home and pack.”

He tipped his hat at her and gave her props for a quick escape. She'd obviously had his mother's roast before.

“Thanks, Jay.” Lacey Gould backed away, still watching him, as if she wanted something more from him. He didn't have more to give.

“See you at home, honey.” His mom patted his arm.

“Mom…”

His mom hurried away, leaving him with the groceries and
words of caution he had wanted to offer her. She must have known what he had to say. And she would have called him cynical and told him to give Lacey Gould and her sister a chance.

 

Lacey woke up early the next morning to soft gray light through the open window and the song of a meadowlark greeting the day. She rolled over on the air mattress she'd slept on and listened to unfamiliar sounds that blended with the familiar.

A rustle and then a soft cry. She sat up, brushing a hand through her hair and then rubbing sleep from her eyes. She waited a minute, blinking away the fuzzy feeling. The baby cried again.

“Corry, wake up.” Lacey pushed herself up off the mattress and walked to the hide-a-bed. Corry's face was covered with the blanket and she slept curled fetus-style on her side.

“Come on, moving day.”

Corry mumbled and pulled the pillow over her head.

Lacey stepped away from the bed and reached into the bassinet for the pacifier to quiet the baby. Rachel's eyes opened and she sucked hard on the binky. Lacey kissed the baby's soft little cheek and smiled.

“I'll get your bottle.”

And then she'd finish packing. She side-stepped boxes as she walked to the kitchen. Nearly everything was packed. It hadn't taken long. Six years and she'd accumulated very little. She had books, a few pictures and some dust bunnies. She wouldn't take those with her.

Memories. She had plenty of memories. She'd found a picture of herself and Bailey at Bailey's wedding, and a note from Bailey's father's funeral last year.

She'd lived a real life in this apartment. In this apartment she had learned to pray. She had cooked dinner for friends. She had let go of love. She had learned to trust herself. Dating Lance had taught her lessons in trusting someone else. And when not to trust.

The baby was crying for real. Lacey filled the bottle and set it in a cup to run hot water over it. The bed squeaked. She turned and Corry was sitting up, looking sleepy and younger than her twenty-two years.

Life hadn't really been fair. Lacey reminded herself that her sister deserved a chance. Corry deserved for someone to believe in her.

Lacey remembered life in that bug-infested apartment that had been her last home in St. Louis. She closed her eyes and let the bad memories of her mother and nights cowering in a closet with Corry slide off, like they didn't matter.

She picked up the bottle and turned off the water. The dribble of formula she squeezed onto her wrist was warm. She took the bottle back to Corry and then lifted the baby out of the bassinet.

“Can you feed her while I finish packing?” Lacey kissed her niece and then lowered her into Corry's waiting arms.

Corry stared down at the infant, and then back at Lacey. “You make it look so easy.”

“It isn't easy, Corry.”

“I thought it would be. I thought I'd just feed her and she'd sleep, and stuff. I didn't want to give her away to someone I didn't know.”

Lacey looked away from the baby and from more memories.

“I need to pack.”

“I'm sorry, Lacey.”

“Don't worry about it.” Lacey grabbed clothes out of her dresser. “I'm going to take a shower while you feed her. You need to make sure you're up and around before Jay gets here.”

When Lacey walked out of the bathroom, he was standing by the door, a cowboy in jeans, a T-shirt and a ball cap covering his dark hair. He nodded and moved away from the door. In the small confines of her apartment she realized how tall he was,
towering over her, making her feel smaller than her five-feet-five height.

“Oh, you're earlier than I expected.”

“I thought it would be best if we got most of it done before it gets hot.”

“I don't have a lot. It won't take long.” She looked around and so did Jay. This was her life, all twenty-eight years packed into a studio apartment.

“We should be able to get it all in the stock trailer and the back of my truck.”

“Do you want a cup of coffee first? I still have a few things to pack.”

“No coffee for me. I'll start carrying boxes out.”

Lacey pointed to the boxes that she'd packed the night before. And she let him go, because he was Jay Blackhorse and he wasn't going to sit and have a cup of coffee with her. And she was okay with that.

Her six-month relationship with Lance Carmichael had taught her a lot. He had taught her not to open her heart up, not to share. She would never forget that last night, their last date.

I can't handle this. It's too much reality.
His words echoed in her mind, taunting her, making a joke of her dreams.

“Are there any breakables in the boxes?” Jay had crossed the room.

Lacey turned from pouring herself a cup of coffee. He stood in front of the boxes, tall and suntanned, graceful for his size. He was all country, right down to the worn boots and cracked leather belt.

He turned and she smiled, because he wore a tan-and-brown beaded necklace that didn't fit what she knew about Jay Blackhorse. Not that she knew much. Or would ever know much.

Funny, she wanted to know more. Maybe because he was city and country, Aeropostale and Wrangler. Maybe it was the
wounded look in his eyes, brief flashes that she caught from time to time, before he shut it down and turned on that country-boy smile.

“I've marked the ones that are fragile,” she answered, and then grabbed an empty box to pack the stuff in the kitchen that she hadn't gotten to the night before.

Jay picked up a box and walked out the front door, pushing it closed behind him. And Corry whistled. Lacey shot her sister a warning look and then turned to the cabinet of canned goods and boxes of cereal. She agreed with the whistle.

Two hours later Lacey followed behind Jay's truck and the stock trailer that contained her life. Corry had stayed behind. And that had been fine with Lacey. She didn't need her sister underfoot, and the baby would be better in an empty apartment than out in the sun while they unloaded furniture and boxes.

From visits with Jay's mom, Lacey had seen the farmhouse where Jay's grandparents had lived. But as she pulled up, it changed and it became her home. She swallowed a real lump in her throat as she parked next to the house and got out of her car.

The lawn was a little overgrown and the flower gardens were out of control, but roses climbed the posts at the corner of the porch and wisteria wound around a trellis at one side of the covered porch.

Her house.

Jay got out of his truck and joined her. “It isn't much.”