Cowboy Crazy (19 page)

Sarah sat in the car and seethed, staring at the parking meter. She had fifteen minutes left, but she’d practically been kicked out of the diner. Not physically, but emotionally. And it hadn’t felt good.

Gripping the wheel with both hands, she rested her forehead on the cool plastic. The morning hadn’t been a total loss. She knew more now than she had when she’d arrived.

She knew everybody hated her.

She couldn’t say she was surprised. She’d dreaded her first encounter with the town. But it had been even worse than she expected. Sure, she’d been a bitch in the years before she’d left, but she’d been a kid, a kid with a lot of problems. Couldn’t they give her a break?

Apparently not. Lane said they knew she was there as a Carrigan representative, but why would they assume that was a bad thing? One look around that diner would make it clear to anybody that the town was fading away. There wasn’t a single person in there under forty, and few under sixty. Carrigan would bring better roads, more money for public services, and jobs for peoples’ children, so they could stay in their hometown.

So why weren’t they glad to see her? Heck, they should be clamoring for a chance to talk to her. Suze should have been asking if she’d need more tables for the workers. Joe should have been checking to see if he could get a job working electrical on the rig. Mr. Jenson had a son somewhere, and a daughter. Why wasn’t he asking about employment opportunities for his kids?

Someone had gotten there before her. Someone had put a negative spin on the Carrigan deal.

Was it just a coincidence that Lane was right there to watch her get the big freeze?

She didn’t want to think about it. Shoving the key in the ignition, she cranked the engine to life and blinked a few times, telling herself it was the rising sun that had her eyes stinging. She distracted herself by poking the presets on the radio, looking for a station with soothing music. She’d finally settled for a scratchy, barely there NPR broadcast of a Brahms symphony when her phone rang.

She dug it out of her purse and squinted at the small screen, her vision blurred with the tears she refused to cry.

Eric. Just what she needed. He probably wanted a progress report. What was she going to tell him? Progress was negative. The company had been better off before she’d arrived in town. Her stomach clenched painfully and it took her a moment to recover enough to answer.

“Hello?”

“Sarah.” There wasn’t a hint of his usual bantering humor in his tone. “You’re in Two Shot.”

“Yes.”
Why
did
he
have
to
call
so
fast? She needed time to think things through.

“I understand you’ve been there before.”

This time, there was no mistaking his tone. He knew. Lane hadn’t just set the residents of Two Shot against her; he’d blabbed to Eric too.

He cleared his throat. “I also understand there’s a lot of negative feeling there toward you, and it’s bleeding over to the project.”

“I don’t know, Eric. I just got here. I’m working on…”

“I’ve gotten three phone calls, Sarah, from three different people, all of them telling me they don’t want Carrigan there.”

“Who was it?”

“They were anonymous. But two of them mentioned you by name. They said you didn’t have the town’s best interests at heart.”

A cloud passed over the sun and she felt suddenly cold. “When did you get those phone calls?”

“Last night.”

Last
night.
No one had known she was there last night.

No one but Lane.

She felt like a whirling, spinning tornado of emotions. Despair. Fear. Regret. Anger. Anger.
Anger.

Lane hadn’t just betrayed her the morning after. He’d done his dirty work before they even got together. He’d apparently spread rumors and lies about her, then gone to the cabin and worked his charm on her afterwards. She smothered a sob so Eric wouldn’t hear it, feeling like she’d explode from the force of the shame building inside her.

She’d known their liaisons probably didn’t mean anything to Lane—but there had been a tiny glimmer of hope in her heart that believed his feelings were more than skin-deep. A foolish, girlie part that hoped for a happily ever after with a man who set her on fire like nobody ever had before.

Instead, he screwed up her life, used her, and then sat back and watched the damage he’d done. He was worse than uncaring; he was cruel, savoring a side dish of victory along with his eggs and bacon.

She’d known this was a game to him. She’d recognized a part of herself in him—the part that always wanted to win at any cost. She’d gotten caught up in playing the game with a worthy contender. But she hadn’t considered the price of losing.

“Eric, I have a solid understanding of the small-town mentality. Being raised in Two Shot is an advantage.”

“Not when you’ve burned all your bridges and moved on. Look, Sarah, you’re clearly not the best person for this project. You’ve set us back. I want you out of there.”

“Okay.” She sucked in a deep breath. “So you want me back in Casper?”

She stared at the face of the parking meter and waited for his response.

And waited. And waited. Maybe she should put another dime in the meter.

Finally, she couldn’t stand the silence. “Eric?”

“I’m taking you off the project.”

“Is there another project?”

“Not really.”

“Are you firing me?”

He sighed. “Look, Sarah, I’m sorry, but I hired you to build positive feelings in the community, and frankly, you’ve had the opposite effect.” He cleared his throat. “I hope you know this isn’t personal. It could make things awkward, because…” He cleared his throat again.

“Because you’re dating Gloria?”

“Yes. I know it might surprise you, but…”

“It doesn’t surprise me. Gloria’s a great person.” She realized what she was saying was true. Gloria was always upbeat, always positive. Sarah was going to miss her.

“Well, thanks. I’m glad you understand.” His tone was kinder, but it wasn’t friendship or caring; it was pity. “I’m going to hook you up with HR, okay? They’ll tell you when to pick up your next check.”

She couldn’t pick it up. There was no way she could walk into that building and face all her coworkers after getting fired.

“They can send it to me.”

She was speaking into a dead line. Eric had put her on hold.

“Human Resources,” said a nasal, mechanical voice. Sarah recognized the speaker as the woman who’d scheduled her interview four months earlier. “Miss Landon?”

“Yes,” Sarah said.

“Would you like your final check mailed? I’ll need your current address.”

Sarah lowered the phone, staring straight ahead out the windshield. She didn’t have an address. She’d figured on staying at Kelsey’s, but that was impossible now. And she didn’t have any savings because she’d been supporting Kelsey and Katie as well as herself.

Maybe she could just keep feeding dimes into the meter and live in her car.

“I’ll pick it up.” Her voice cracked on the first word and she ended up whispering into the phone.

“Pardon?”

“I’ll pick it up.” She managed to speak up, but her tone was angry and irritated. The woman didn’t deserve that; she was just doing her job. How many times had Sarah treated someone that way? How many times had she disregarded the feelings of someone who couldn’t serve her ambition? She’d done it over and over in Two Shot, and she realized now she’d done it at Carrigan, too. No wonder everyone hated her. She’d always been proud of her ambition, but it was really just a socially acceptable way to be self-centered.

“Thank you,” she choked out.

Pressing the “End” button, she tossed the phone on the seat and put the car in gear. It wasn’t easy to see through the tears, but somehow she’d make it to the so-called Love Nest and gather her things.

Hopefully Lane wouldn’t come to see the fruits of his victory, because she had a feeling her tears would only mean extra points to him.

Sarah crammed the clothes she’d worn the day before into her bag and zipped it shut. Hefting it in one hand, she staggered down the loft stairs and set it on the floor by the front door. She cocked her wrist and shoved her sleeve up to check her watch, then swore softly. Her watch was gone. Had she left it on the nightstand?

She climbed the stairs and checked. Nope. Glancing around the room, she tried to think where she’d left it. Maybe it was in the bathroom downstairs. Or on the coffee table, next to the candles. Maybe she’d taken it off when she and Lane…

Don’t think about it.

Trotting back down, she grabbed her messenger bag and put it beside the overnight bag, then made a concerted search for the watch, scanning every horizontal surface. Maybe it was in the kitchen.

Wait, she hadn’t even been in the kitchen, had she? Not since she first arrived. Still, maybe she’d taken it off then. She stood in the doorway, scanning the room. No watch, but there was a note taped to the front of the coffeemaker.

She strode over and snatched it off, nearly ripping it in half when the tape didn’t give way.

Good morning, Sunshine!

The greeting was followed by a happy face, with rays coming off it to make it look like the sun. What kind of a man drew happy faces? It didn’t seem very Lane-like. If she were still playing the game, she’d hang onto the note and tease him about it. Yesterday it would have made her smile.

Have some coffee and come to Suze’s when you wake up. I’ll introduce you to some people.

He’d signed it with a flourish that was obviously the product of years of autograph signing.

So he’d actually told her to go to Suze’s—invited her right into the lion’s den. Nice. That way, when he was done trashing her, he could point her out to all his friends and watch her get the big freeze.

“Don’t do me any favors,” she muttered.

She scanned the counters, searching for the watch. She wanted to be out of the Love Nest before he came back to torture her some more. But it was her stepfather’s watch, the one thing she had from him. She’d started wearing it the day he died, and it was the one thing in the world she didn’t want to leave behind.

She crumpled the note in her hand and went back to the living room. She needed a system. She’d search each piece of furniture in turn, methodically and thoroughly, starting with the sofa. Tossing the pillows aside, she lifted the cushions to search underneath. She was down on her hands and knees peering under the sofa when the front door opened.

“Hey,” said a familiar voice.

She sat up too fast and got dizzy, but there was no mistaking the tall figure that stood on the doormat. She simply stared at him, waiting for her vision to clear. She’d been so intent on leaving that she hadn’t thought about what she’d say if Lane found her there.

So she wouldn’t say anything. She needed to find that watch, and then she’d walk away. With no job at the oil company, there was no reason to speak to Lane Carrigan ever again.

That was about the only good news she could think of.

***

Lane watched Sarah sit up. She was swaying slightly, her skin pale, her eyes unfocused. Had she come home and hit the liquor cabinet or what? As he stepped toward her, holding out a steadying hand, she got back down on her hands and knees and scuttled around the side of the sofa, peering beneath it.

“You looking for something?”

“No, I’m trying to see the world from a cockroach’s point of view.” She sat up. “Have you seen my watch?”

“Everybody’s seen your watch.” He glanced at her wrist and noticed for the first time that the clunky Timex she always wore was missing. “Why do you wear that, anyway? Did it belong to an old boyfriend or something?”

“None of your business.” She ducked her head under an end table, still searching. “I can’t leave without it.”

“So don’t leave.” He sat down on the edge of the sofa to admire the way her sweet ass stuck up in the air, but the minute she realized what he was doing, she tried to pop back up on her knees and hit her head on the bottom of the table.

“Ow.”

He knelt down beside her but she scooted away, her hand feeling for the bump on her noggin. “Why the hell would I stay?”

“Because you need to go back to the diner and try again. You should have stuck it out, Sarah. These people won’t respect you if you run away. You’ll never get them to accept the Carrigan project that way.”

She shrugged and stood up, still gazing around the room in search of her watch. “I’ll never get them to accept it anyway.”

He squinted at her, trying to figure out where the spunky Sarah he knew had disappeared to. She wore an air of defeat he’d never seen before. Looking at her slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, he felt like a hard fist had grabbed his heart and squeezed it.

“Look,” he said. “You know I don’t want the drilling here. But I hate to see you just give up like this.”

“I didn’t give up. Not willingly. Your brother fired me.”

“My brother…” He swallowed. Shit. Eric must have heard something somehow. It wasn’t too surprising. Once Sarah had left the diner, the conversations around the diner’s scarred tabletops focused on nothing but her and the Carrigan project—and nobody had anything very nice to say about either one. Knowing Eric, there was someone else from Carrigan keeping a finger on the pulse of the town. But man, that was quick. How had news traveled so fast? “My brother fired you? Already?”

“Yes,
already.
And don’t act so surprised.”

She walked over to the mantel, scanning its surface. That watch must be some kind of family heirloom. She was still focused on finding it, even though she’d just lost her job.

And getting fired had to be devastating for her. He was sure she needed the money, plus she was one of those people who would answer the question “Who are you?” with her job description.

“You won, okay?” She moved over to a cabinet in the corner and pushed a couple of candles to one side, still searching. “Game over. I’m gone. Maybe you and Trevor should have a beer or something to celebrate.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Actually, he had some idea what she was talking about—part of it, anyway. She’d caught on to the fact that relationships were about winning for him. Despite his efforts to change his thinking last night, she still thought he was tallying points with every word.

But she only recognized it because she was like that herself. So she ought to like it, or at least find it charming and roguish. But she’d turned to face him now, and she didn’t look charmed. She looked angry. But that was a big improvement over that lost look she’d had a moment before.

“I’m talking about your little smear campaign. I’m talking about how you got a couple flunkies from town to make anonymous phone calls about me.”

“Smear campaign? Anonymous phone calls?” He went over her words in his mind. “Hell, Sarah, I’m not that bad.”

“You might not have realized he’d fire me,” she conceded. “But I know it was you, Lane. Nobody else knew I was in town until this morning.”

“Nobody knew?” He flipped through the events of the previous day in his mind. “Trevor knew. And Emmy, who cleans the house.” She looked startled for a moment and he knew she genuinely hadn’t remembered that fact. “And if Trevor knew, Gena did too, and she and Emmy both work for Suze.” He reached her in two long steps and took her wrists in his hands, turning her to face him. “Suze has been against the project from the start. Remember how she used to go on about the environment?”

She nodded, looking doubtful.

“And anyway, what makes you think I’d sneak around and make anonymous phone calls? You know me better than that. Don’t you?”

She refused to meet his eyes.

“Look, Sarah. You’re right. I don’t want the project to succeed. But I don’t want you to fail, either.” She started to tug her hands away, but he held fast. “You know there’s something between us. Something that matters a lot more than your job.”

He shook her slightly. “We’re just alike. You’re the first woman I ever met who’s as competitive as I am, who can give me a run for my money and everything else I’ve got. I want to see where we’re headed. I think it might be a good place for both of us.” He put his hands on her shoulders and figured he was getting to her when she didn’t shrug him off. “Come on. You feel it too. You’re lying to yourself if you don’t admit we’re great together.”

She stared down at the floor, her teeth nibbling at that lower lip until he was afraid she’d chew it off. Finally, she looked up into his face, her eyes searching his. Normally that kind of gaze from a woman made him flinch and look away, but for the first time, he wanted a woman to know exactly what he was thinking.

***

Sarah pulled herself out of his arms and turned to the mantel, moving a framed photo of the two brothers with their father to one side, pretending she’d suddenly remembered the watch.

Lane was right. The phone calls probably came from Suze. Once again, she’d assumed the worst of him. She needed to open up a little, trust people. But there was one thing she needed more than a mental makeover.

“I can’t stay here,” she said. “I don’t have a job.”

“Work for me. I need some help around here. You’d earn your keep.”

“That’s ridiculous. I told you I’m afraid of horses.”

“That’s what you told me. But I don’t believe you.” He waved toward the window. Far beyond the drive where her car was parked, she could see horses grazing in a faraway field. “And my horses aren’t scary. They’re a pretty mellow bunch, mostly rescues.”

“Rescues? I didn’t know that. I thought you raised roping horses.”

“I do. But it seems like every time I go to a sale I see a good horse nobody wants. Sometimes they just need to be fattened up and treated right; sometimes they just need a place to get old and die. Trust me, I’ve got some horses over there that wouldn’t scare a baby.”

The idea of a horse rescue somehow didn’t jibe with her image of Lane. He was always about being the biggest, the best, the strongest, the bravest. She’d never seen this side of him—although come to think of it, he had taken in Willie. And he was certainly patient with her.

It didn’t matter. She was leaving. Turning, she scanned a bookcase filled with Western history tomes and old rodeo magazines. There was no way the watch could be there, but she searched it anyway. It gave her time to think.

The whole thing was hopeless. She needed to leave Two Shot behind—again. More thoroughly this time. Kelsey didn’t seem to want her help anymore, so it would be easy to move on.

She’d leave Lane behind too. She stepped away from him and scanned the room, spinning in a slow circle. “I have to go. I’m going to have to leave without my watch.” She blinked back hot tears at the thought of losing Roy’s watch. It was the one part of her old life she wanted to take with her, and the one part that seemed utterly and completely lost. “Leave me a message if you find it, okay?”

“If I find it for you, will you come see the horses?”

Maybe he’d taken it. Maybe he thought she wouldn’t leave without it.

“You took it, didn’t you?”

“No. But I bet I know where it is. Check your purse.”

“I already did.”

“Check it again.”

She walked over to the door where her oversized bag was slouched against her suitcase. Lifting the flap, she rummaged through its contents. Wallet, hairbrush, makeup bag…

Watch.
Damn.

“You put it in there. You tricked me.”

“You tricked yourself. I didn’t put it there. It’s just the only place it could be. It was logic.”

She gave him a disbelieving stare.

“I’m not that devious, Sarah.”

She had to admit that was probably true. He liked to win and get what he wanted, but his methods were pretty straightforward. Strength and sex appeal, not scheming.

“Come on.” He opened the door and gestured toward the sunbaked scenery outside. “The horses are waiting.”