A Real Cowboy Knows How to Kiss (22 page)

"Fourteen years ago. July fifth. Car accident. Someone was driving the wrong way on the interstate and killed her in a head-on collision. It wasn't her fault."

His gut dropped and he sucked in his breath. Killed in a car accident by a bastard driving the wrong way on the highway? What the hell? Who died like that? Then the date sank in. That had been two weeks after she'd dropped him off. "What road? Where was she going? Was it at night? Had she been drinking?"

"Late afternoon. She had just left work from her new job as an administrative assistant at a small printing company, and was, apparently, driving toward Rogue Valley."

Rogue Valley was where his father had lived, where she'd left him. She'd been driving toward
him
. Toward her kid. To get him? He closed his eyes against the emotions flooding him. Disbelief. Anger. Sadness. Relief. And…something deeper. It was as if something deep inside him had shattered, leaving him broken and bleeding…and somehow…better.
She'd been coming back for him
. "She had a job as an admin?"

"She'd just gotten it. She'd been working there for two days."

Steen closed his eyes. His mother had been on her way back to him after finding a legit job.
She'd been coming back.
No matter how many times he thought it, it still hit like a sucker punch to the gut. All these years, he'd blamed her for leaving him, and she hadn't been. He owed her an apology, in a major way."No one told me." His voice was raw and ragged.

"Apparently, no one knew about you. Those who knew her as a stripper didn't know she had a son, and neither did anyone at her new job. She had no other family around, so they just let her go. No one knew you existed, so there was no one to tell." Thomas sounded disgusted. "It really wasn't that hard to make the connection. I'm not impressed. I don't think anyone tried."

Steen gripped the wood, his body shaking with emotion. He had tried, and he had failed. How had he not found this out when he'd searched before? He didn't know. How different would his life have been if he'd known all those years ago that his mother hadn't ditched him? How would that have changed things? At all? Completely? He didn't even know what to think, how to process it. "Thank you, sir." He managed to keep his voice even. "I appreciate it."

"You okay, son?"

Steen lifted his head. "Yeah, fine."

"Would you like me to find out anything else about her?"

"No, that's all I need. Thanks." Steen disconnected the call, and stared across the fields. His mother had tried to come back for him. She'd left him for only two weeks. Not a lifetime. Not forever. Two weeks. She'd gotten a real job, one that he knew probably paid like shit, but she'd done it for him, for them, so they could be normal.

He let out his breath, fighting the emotion that tried to overwhelm him. For fourteen years, he thought she'd left him. She hadn't. She'd died coming back for him. He looked at his shadow on the dirt, and he saw the outline of the hat Chase had gotten him. He'd probably been wearing it the moment his mother had died.

He looked up at the sky, the endless Wyoming sky. White clouds drifted across, shifting shapes like elusive, whispered dreams. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said, his voice almost breaking. "I'm sorry I doubted you," he said, still looking at the sky. "I should have believed you when you said you loved me, instead of doubting you all these years."

There was no reply from the skies, but he felt tightness ease from his chest, as if an invisible hand had brushed across his heart and loosened the clamps that had locked his heart down for so long. He took a deep breath, a breath that seemed to spread through his entire body, gently wiping away fourteen years of torment.

She hadn't lied. She hadn't left. She hadn't betrayed him. His mom had been every bit the woman he'd thought she was.

He rested his forearms on the fence, watching as some horses came into sight in the distance while he thought about his mom, trying to call up memories of their times together. For the first time since he was a kid, the memories didn't hurt. They made him smile, as he remembered the time she'd traded an hour of braiding hair for two ice cream cones. He'd forgotten about coconut ice cream, her favorite. He'd forgotten a lot, and it felt good to let himself remember again.

A loud whinny caught his attention, and Steen focused on the horses in the distance. They were galloping, tails up, ears back, hooves pounding, the ultimate freedom to run. Those days in prison, he never thought he'd be free again. He'd been so sure he was going to die there, and when he'd taken that hit meant for Pointer, he'd been ready to die. He was glad now he hadn't. If he had, he never would have known the truth about his mom.

And he never would have gotten together with Erin.
Erin.
He wanted to call her and tell her about his mom. She would understand why it mattered. She would get it.

The horses circled toward him, the herd spreading out as they ran. Steen gradually became aware that one near the rear was slow, favoring its right foreleg. Instinctively, he let out a sharp whistle. The injured horse's head turned, and she looked right at him.

In an instant, the world seemed to stand still, until it was just him and the horse, like the old days. The mare slowed down, and then stopped, standing in the middle of the plains, still staring at him, while the rest of the herd began to slow down as well.

Steen looked over his shoulder at the long dirt road. He still had miles to go until he reached town. He'd have to keep walking if he wanted to reach it by dark. Then he looked back at the horses, who had all stopped running. They were milling about, grazing, but the injured one continued to stand still, watching him.

Shit. He thought of his mom, who hadn't walked away. He thought of what Erin had said, how he was magic with the horses. Chase had said it too. They'd both said he was needed and welcome at the Stockton ranch. Was he? They were full of shit, he was sure of it.

But then again, he'd also been damned certain that his mother had betrayed him. How much else was he wrong about?

The injured mare nickered at him.

He glared at her. "Don't start with me."

But she didn't look away, and neither did he. Shit. Did he really want to do this? Did he really want to go back to this life? As he stood there, the horse lowered its head and began to walk toward him again, still favoring her right front leg. Steen watched the mare limp toward him. She was injured and wild, and yet she was still coming to him for help.

How could he say no? He was wearing Chase's hat on his head, a welcome that he'd never accepted. Maybe it was time to accept it. Maybe it was time to pay it forward.

The mare was still twenty yards away when he dropped his bag, vaulted over the fence, and walked toward her.

They met each other halfway.

The next evening Erin sat stiffly in the dining room of her parents' country club, her head ringing as she listened to her father and Louis prattle on about her great success in the Kentucky Derby. Her mother was even there, but she was more interested in discussing her own successes than worrying about what Erin had done.

So, she'd won over her dad and Louis, but not her mother.

She was dressed appropriately, in one of the silk dresses she used to wear to assorted functions she had attended with Louis. Her hair was done in a fancy updo, and she was wearing her diamond studs. She looked classy and refined, and she hated every bit of it. She didn't want to be this woman anymore. She
couldn't
be this woman anymore, not for her parents, and certainly not for Louis.

As she looked across the table at her distant mother, something inside her finally let go. The impenetrable shield that she'd held so tightly around her heart finally cracked, and she realized she didn't care anymore. "Mom."

Her mother raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows at her. "Yes, Erin?"

"I don't care if you're proud of me." God, that felt good to say.

Her mom blinked. "What?"

"I don't care." As she said it, she knew it was true. She took a deep breath, and couldn't keep the smile from turning up the corners of her mouth. "I know that you've never been impressed with my career choice." She realized Louis and her father were listening, so she expanded her circle to include them. "I know I've been a disappointment to you all—"

Her father started to interrupt. "Erin, all that has changed—"

She held up her hand. "No, it hasn't." She took a deep breath to fortify herself and looked around at them all. "I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to be an equine surgeon. I want to be with animals who matter to people, who aren't simply about money."

The three of them stared at her blankly, completely unable to comprehend any speech that dismissed the value of money. "I'm quitting my job," she said, speaking slowly so they could understand. "I'm moving out west."

"To Wyoming?" Louis's disdain dripped from his words.

She paused as the image of Steen flashed in her mind. For a split second, she wanted to say yes. God, how she wanted to say yes. But there was no way she was going to go down that road again. She'd learned her lesson about trying to pry love from someone who didn't want to give it to her. "No, not to Wyoming. Maybe Oregon. Or Washington. Or Texas. I don't know. Somewhere. Just not here." As she said the words, she felt the most amazing sense of freedom and exhilaration. She didn't have to be this woman anymore. She didn't need their approval. A smile began to spread across her face. "I'm going to open my own clinic, in some small town where there's no other vet to take care of the animals."

Her father looked horrified. "But you've finally broken in. You're on the way to the upper echelons. Why would you ever walk away from that? Is it stress? Do you need a prescription? I can write you up a script and—"

"No, I don't need tranquilizers," she interrupted. "There's nothing wrong with me. I just don't want to do this anymore."

"Why would you do this?" Louis was staring at her with his eyes narrowed.

She could practically feel his withdrawal, and it felt brilliant. Never had disdain felt so freeing. Being rejected by people with Louis's values meant she was finally doing something right. She leaned forward so that they could all hear her. "I'm doing it, because it will make me happy."

Their blank, uncomprehending expressions in response to her announcement were all the confirmation she needed. They had absolutely no ability to grasp that simple concept. She was finished here. "I'm going home to pack." She'd given her notice yesterday, and today had been her last day. Her clinic hadn't been happy about the short notice, but that was too bad for them. It was her life, not theirs, and she was finally going to claim it.

"What about the house?" Louis caught her arm. "You're just going to leave it?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Do you want to buy it from me?"

"No, I want you to stay so we can work this out," he said urgently. "I made a mistake, Erin. Don't throw away your career just because you're pissed at me." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, an engagement ring twice the size of her old one. "Listen, I made a huge mistake when I left you. I was a bastard, and I know it. I'm not with her anymore. I want you back. Think of what we can accomplish together."

God, how long she'd waited to hear those words, to have him beg to take her back, to see what he'd lost when he'd let her go. And now that she had it, she felt nothing. No, that was wrong. She felt disdain and disgust. "Louis—"

His gaze flicked behind her, and disdain flooded his features.

Instinctively, she turned, and her heart skipped when she saw Steen standing behind her. "Steen!" Her heart leapt at the sight, and suddenly, she couldn't breathe. He was there.

He was wearing his same battered cowboy hat, jeans that fit him just right, and cowboy boots that were still covered in dust. He looked like he'd just walked right in off the ranch, with his unshaven jaw and his plaid shirt unbuttoned at the throat. He looked rugged, dangerous, and incredibly handsome. What was he doing in Virginia? In her parents' country club? How was he even standing there?

His gaze was on Louis, not her. With a sinking heart, she realized he was staring at the engagement ring in Louis's hand. She knew all too well how badly Rachel had betrayed him, and now, here she was, with her ex-husband handing her a diamond ring. "Steen—"

His attention leapt from the ring to her face, and she saw the hesitation in his eyes. God, is that really what he thought of her? That she'd run back to Louis after all the time she'd spent with him?

"And who is this?" Louis put his arm over her shoulders, pulling her against him in a statement of ownership. "Some ranch hand from your trip to Wyoming?"

She stiffened instinctively as anger roiled through her. She opened her mouth to snap at Louis, when Steen's expression stopped her.

He was staring at her so intently she felt as if he'd stripped her soul bare. His gaze flicked to Louis's arm, then to the huge diamond ring, and then back to her face, searching her eyes as if he could ferret out every last secret that she'd hidden inside her. Hope leapt through her, hope that maybe, just maybe, he could see her truth, that she wasn't too good for him, that she would never treat him the way everyone else in his life had treated him.

Time seemed to stand still as she waited for his reaction. She had tried so often to convince him, and finally, she realized he had to decide for himself. So, she didn't defend herself. She said nothing. She simply waited, her heart thundering as she waited for Steen to speak.

Louis stuck out his free hand, still not releasing her shoulders. "I'm Dr. Louis Armstrong, Erin's husband. Who are you?"

Steen looked at Erin. "I'm the guy who loves her."

"You are?" Tears burned in her eyes, and she couldn't keep the huge smile from lighting up her face. "You do?"