Going Cowboy Crazy (34 page)

“If you think you’re sleeping here, you can think again.” Hope stood in the doorway of the bathroom with her hands on her hips. “This is my room.”

Hope was right. Faith had no business being there. And she could just as easily sleep in Tessa and Jenna Jay’s room. But if she conceded the room, Hope might think she had conceded the man. And she wasn’t ready to do that. At least, not until she talked with Slate.

“I have just as much right to be here as you do.” She got up and reached for the covers at the same time as Hope.

Hope paused with her hand curled around the top edge of the sheet. “I’m warning you. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get your skinny carcass out of here.”

“I don’t have a skinny carcass. And even if I did, yours is just as skinny.”

For a few nerve-wracking moments, Faith waited for her sister to jump across the mattress and punch her wussy lights out. But instead, Hope heaved a tired sigh and climbed into bed.

“Whatever. I’m too tired to beat your ass tonight—I’ll do it in the morning.”

The relief Faith felt annoyed her, along with her inability to keep her eyes from following her sister’s every move. Standing like an idiot at the side of the bed, she watched as Hope placed a throw pillow between her knees and then punched the pillow beneath her head twice before lying down. After weeks of trying to find some common
traits with her twin, the nightly routine identical to her own should’ve made her happy. Instead she just felt more annoyed.

Climbing beneath the covers, Faith tugged the blankets up to her chin, flat refusing to duplicate anything her sister did.

“Please don’t tell me you’re a blanket hog,” Hope grumbled.

“I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean you don’t think so?”

“I’ve never stayed the night with anyone besides Sl—with anyone who complained.”

“So I guess you were lucky enough to be an only child?”

“I don’t know if I would call it lucky.”

Hope snorted. “I would. I didn’t get my own room until Daddy built the new garage and converted the old one to a room for Dallas. I’ve shared toys, clothes, beds, and cars… and I don’t want to share anything else. Especially with a woman who didn’t even ask first.”

Since she couldn’t think of anything to say to that, Faith chose to keep her mouth shut. After a few minutes of silence passed, she glanced over, surprised to find those familiar eyes pinned on her. It was strange the pull they had; Faith couldn’t have looked away if she’d wanted to. In those eyes she saw anger, confusion, and an infinite amount of pain.

“You love Slate?”

The question caused Faith’s heart to beat faster. “I’ve only known him for two weeks.”

“So you don’t love him.”

It would be so easy to agree and act as if the events of
the night hadn’t left her heart feeling like a punching bag. But she figured if she was able to read Hope’s emotions, Hope could read hers.

“Yes, I love him.”

The sheets shifted as Hope turned away. “Me too.”

It was a long time before Faith fell asleep.

A few hours later, Faith awoke to the gray tinge of dawn. She glanced over at the pillow next to her, but it was empty. She might’ve gone back to sleep if a horrible gagging sound hadn’t come from the bathroom, punctuated with Jenna’s soft voice.

Pushing back the covers, Faith slipped out of bed.

The bathroom door was cracked open and through it she saw Hope leaning over the toilet. Jenna sat on the edge of the bathtub next to her, talking softly as she held back her daughter’s thick brown hair.

“… it will pass, honey. Believe me, I know. ’Course I didn’t get sick in the mornings, it was the evenings that were worse for me. I swear I never threw up so much in all my born day—”

“I told you I’m—” Hope tried to interrupt, but instead went back to gagging.

Jenna smoothed back her hair. “I know what you told me, Hope Marie Scroggs. But I’m not fallin’ for that story about Josie’s red chili upsettin’ your stomach, not when you was practically raised on the stuff. Besides, mothers have a sixth sense about these things. And from the moment you walked into Bootlegger’s, I knew you was as pregnant as a barn cat in spring.”

Faith’s knees gave out, and she reached over and grabbed on to the dresser to keep from hitting the floor. The pig trophies rattled, but Jenna kept right on
chattering, unaware that Faith was seconds from joining Hope at the toilet.

Instead, she swallowed hard and allowed the truth to sink into her numb mind. Suddenly everything fell into place. Hope returning to Bramble out of the blue. Her sudden desire to marry Slate. The reason Slate hadn’t returned last night.

It all made perfect sense.

Perfect devastating sense.

As the sun cast its first golden rays through the window, her gaze settled on the pictures that lined the wall, and Faith finally saw them for what they truly were. Hope and Slate. Not two lovers—or even boyfriend and girlfriend—just two friends who shared a lifetime of memories.

Two friends who loved one another enough to make sacrifices.

L
ESS THAN TEN MINUTES LATER,
Faith was back in her Volvo heading out of town. Dressed in her beige pants and brown sweater, she resembled the woman who had first driven into Bramble more than two weeks earlier—minus the Passion Fruit lip gloss and red high heels. And minus the exuberant excitement she’d felt at meeting her sister for the first time.

Now Faith wished she had never met Hope.

It was a horrible thought, but one she couldn’t control. It sat there on the edge of her mind along with the sharp ache that throbbed deep down in her chest.

If Hope had never shown up, Faith would still be back at Jenna’s. She would eat the Raisin Bran Jenna had bought especially for her, and sip the orange juice Burl poured. Since it was Saturday, there would be no hurried showers or rushed good-byes. Just a lazy morning with hours to uncover family history and discover shared traits. Then a golden-haired football coach would come to call and take her for a ride in Bubba’s truck. Or just sit on the porch swing next to her with his arm looped over her
shoulder and his head resting on the top of hers as they enjoyed the beautiful autumn day.

For a split second, Faith’s foot lifted off the accelerator before she remembered the blissful, utopian picture was only a daydream. There would be no peaceful morning spent with Jenna and Burl. No lazy afternoon in Slate’s arms. Because, as much as she wished otherwise, Hope was home—sexy, vivacious Hope who strutted into town and completely turned Faith’s perfect world upside down by pulling out a gun even bigger than the ones on Darla’s bizarre nightmarish float.

A baby.

Not Slate’s baby. Since Slate and Hope hadn’t seen each other in over a year, that was an impossibility. But it didn’t make any difference. Whether by Slate or some actor she’d met in California, Hope still had an innocent life growing inside her. An innocent life that needed a father. And who better to fill that role than the hometown football hero?

It made sense. Which was probably why Slate hadn’t returned the night before. Hope’s pregnancy had brought him to his senses and made him realize that a two-week fling didn’t compare to years of friendship and love. And somehow Faith couldn’t blame him for that. He had never told her that he loved her. He liked her, and he desired her. And, at one time, that had been enough.

But not now.

Now a baby had forced her back to reality. A reality that looked stark and lonely.

The Volvo’s instrument panel binged, and Faith glanced down to discover she was almost out of gas. She didn’t want to stop in Bramble, but with the next town
being close to fifty miles away, she didn’t have much of a choice. So she pulled into Jones’s Gas Station and cut the engine. A young teenage kid came out of the garage wearing a blue short-sleeved uniform shirt, worn jeans, and a familiar crumpled cowboy hat. As he walked toward her, she stepped out of the car.

“Austin?”

“Hey, Faith!” He pushed the hat back in a gesture so like Slate’s that it made her eyes water. Fortunately, his gaze was locked on her car, and he didn’t notice. “Is this your car? I didn’t know you drove a Volvo.”

“And I didn’t know you wore a cowboy hat.”

He blushed. “Yeah, I know. Real lame, huh? Coach gave it to me so I figure I have to wear it.” He glanced back at the car. “Man, if I’d known this was your car, I’d have called you last Tuesday when Mr. Jones was showing me around.” When she looked confused, he pointed at the garage. “It was parked right inside.”

The news didn’t surprise her. After living in Bramble for the last few weeks, very little did.

She nodded at his shirt. “So you work here?”

“Yeah, well, if I want to get a car, I have to work—not that I plan on staying here very long—but Mr. Jones gave me a pretty sweet deal. I only have to work on Saturday and Sunday mornings and only if Coach doesn’t want me to practice.” A cocky grin split his face. “So, ma’am, can I help yew?”

The twang made her smile. “Yew sure can.”

Austin unscrewed the gas cap and placed the nozzle in. “So where’s Coach?”

She tried to keep her voice steady as she dug around in her purse for her credit card. “I don’t know, probably
sleeping. I’m sure he was pretty worn out from the game last night.”

“Worn out?” He looked skeptical. “You’re only worn out after you lose. When you win you have so much energy you can’t contain it.”

She blushed as her mind swept back to a steamy shower and a soapy naked man with so much combustible energy he’d brought her to three mind-blowing orgasms.

Taking note of her reaction, Austin leaned against the car and crossed his arms. “Okay, what’s up? Did you two have a fight?”

She opened her mouth to deny it, but then snapped it shut. Hope was right; she was a wuss. Too wussy to tell Jenna and Burl good-bye. Or talk to Slate before she left. Or answer a young teenager truthfully.

“I’m leaving, Austin.”

He pushed away from the car. “What? But why?”

“Because I need to get back to work.”

His brown eyes were confused. “But I thought you and Coach…”

Faith shook her head and made an attempt at humor. “Didn’t you hear? Hope and Slate are getting married.”

“But he doesn’t love Hope. He loves you.”

The words made her heart rate quicken. “Loves me? He told you he loves me?”

“Well—no—not exactly. But he told me he likes you a lot.”

Her heart settled back down in her chest. “And I really like him, too. But I need to get back to my life in Chicago.”

His eyes implored her from beneath the propped-up brim of his crumpled straw hat. “It’s not so bad here, you
know—I mean it’s not as bad as it used to be. It just takes some getting used to, is all.” He paused and lifted a hand. “Come on, Faith. Stay. Who will go to bat for me with Coach if you leave?”

She gave him a weak smile. “You don’t need me to go to bat for you. You’re the star quarterback—the golden boy of Bramble.”

“Nope. That’s Coach’s title. I’m just a nobody from Iowa.”

Reaching over the gas hose, she pulled him into her embrace. “No, you’re not. You’re my friend.”

The safety clip on the nozzle clicked off, and Austin pulled back. “So you’re really leaving?” When she nodded, he looked away and stared out at the highway. “Why does life have to be so friggin’ complicated?” When she didn’t answer, he jerked out the nozzle and thumped it back in the pump before he reached for her credit card. “I’ll get your receipt.”

She let him go. He was right. Life shouldn’t be so complicated. Or maybe it wasn’t life that was complicated as much as relationships.

As she pulled out of the gas station, she made the mistake of looking in her rearview mirror. Austin still stood by the pumps, his gangly arms at his sides, and the crumpled hat high on his forehead. At the sight, her tears finally started to fall. And once the dam broke, there was no holding it back.

By the time she reached Josephine’s Diner, tears were dripping from her chin. When she passed the football field, a sob broke free. And when the
WELCOME TO BRAMBLE
sign faded from sight in her rearview mirror, she was squalling to beat the band. She didn’t fight the
tears but let them fall, figuring sooner or later she’d run out of moisture.

It turned out to be later.

For close to two hundred miles, Faith sobbed as trucks and big rigs sailed past her with an occasional blast of a horn. Around Lubbock, she’d tried to distract herself with the radio, but country music was king in Texas, and the sad songs about lost love only made her cry harder.

On the outskirts of Amarillo, she was so weak and dehydrated that she had to pull off the highway into a Wal-Mart Super Center parking lot. For over an hour, she lay back in her reclined seat as squeaky baskets rolled past and hordes of Saturday shoppers pulled in and out on either side, in too much of a hurry to notice the prone, weepy woman in the car next to them.

Once the tears finally dried up, it was all she could do to drag her lifeless body into the store. Like a blurry-eyed zombie, she moved from one aisle to the next looking so confused that blue-vested employees kept asking if they could help her. They couldn’t. Nobody could. She had just lost her new sister, family, friends, and boyfriend, all in one fell swoop.