Second Sunrise Cowboy (Second Chance Book 8) (23 page)

Cara went home, packed up all of James’s things and took them to his sister’s house. Early the next morning, Cara went out of town and hired a divorce attorney.

Pulling strings, James was let go from jail. Celebrating his release, he’d gotten drunk at his local hangout and called her threatening that if she didn’t stop divorce proceedings, he’d have to take matters into his own hands. She didn’t need the finer details to understand what he was suggesting. But, she’d decided she would rather die than live another day with him.

When the bar closed and he left, he ran his truck into a tree. A passerby found him dead a mile from Cara’s house. She often wondered if he’d gotten what he’d deserved. Maybe karma had played a hand in his demise.

When she’d opened the door and the deputy told her the news of the accident, she knew she was free at last. Never having to live in fear again was priceless. But she’d felt an unexplainable guilt that stuck with her. Although the love she’d had for James had died years before, a part of her questioned if she could have saved and changed him if she’d divorced him much sooner.

Yet, in her heart, she realized he never would have changed.

A second shock had come when she learned James had bought himself and Cara a life insurance policy, merely two months before his death. There was a certain amount of suspicion why he’d taken one out on her too, but she’d been awarded enough money upon his death that she could do all of the things that he’d kept her from doing during their marriage.

First thing she did was sell his law practice, then sunk the money into her shop, Time is of Essence. She loved working with vintage clothing and jewelry, a challenge she needed to help her get through the healing. The business had grown, especially after she’d opened an online store, and she didn’t have to worry about anything except…

Her future.

It seemed bleak.

There weren’t many prospects for her in Coal Springs, Texas, and she’d thought about packing up and moving to a place where no one knew her past. She hadn’t gotten that far yet. The few single men in town, known as bad boys, who’d asked her on a date, she’d turned down flat. Not only were they not her type, but that jerk of a dead husband of hers messed up her mind—and her heart. He’d told her enough times that she was ugly and worthless and she’d finally believed him.  He’d hypnotized her with his degrading insults and his physical abuse. Certain parts of her brain were malfunctioned—and vital parts of her body.

She’d spent enough money on a therapist that she could have traveled the world three times over, but nothing had really changed in all of the years. She was still alone. She was still damaged.

And yet, she still had dreams.

Cara wanted a family—wanted a child more than her next breath. She’d always hoped by now she would have found someone else, had a supportive partner, but maybe James had been right, she would never find a man that wanted a washed up woman. Enough people in town knew of her situation with James. They steered clear of her. His sister, Tammy, had spread rumor after rumor, mainly how Cara was at fault for James dying and how she’d caused him to drink heavily and turn abusive.  Cara shrugged off the statements.

She had bigger fish to fry.

The problem was, she was broken inside. She didn’t know if it was possible to trust another man, to love again. To feel secure in the arms of another. But she had to try to rebuild. Try to move ahead. She was too young to lie down and give up. She couldn’t let James win—couldn’t let him control her from his grave.

Clicking on the bedside lamp, she hit the book on the nightstand and it dropped to the floor. As she reached to grab it, something caught her eye. She stared at the brochure she’d thrown into the trash can a few weeks before after a tense and depressing visit with her therapist, Deidre. She told Cara things had come to a standstill in her therapy. Deidre slipped Cara the brochure, telling her to read it and to consider it as an option for healing. Deidre had said, “It would do you some good to get away.”

Cara had left the office, feeling down, and had almost forgotten about the brochure. She had skimmed through it, reading about the R&R. She didn’t need a vacation. She had the shop to worry about.

After another nightmare, she was on the brink of desperation.

Sighing, she took the pamphlet from the can and placed it in her lap. She read the cover… 

“Nirvana Ranch. A place where people find tranquility in nature.”

The picture of horses and the lovely sunset was definitely an attention getter. No denying her curiosity was tweaked, although she wasn’t sure the ranch was what she needed. How could she go away right now? She certainly didn’t think she’d be bold enough to go to some R&R miles away where they promised tranquility. She opened the cover and floated through the information. Seclusion. Horses. Nature. Riding lessons. A life skills coach. “Oh my.” Her throat constricted.

She read further.

“Visit us online and apply for an opportunity to visit Nirvana. We hope to see you soon.”
Nope, not going to happen.

Dropping the brochure back into the trash, she turned off the lamp, rolled over and buried her head into the pillow.

The clock ticked. The wind whistled. Tree branches scratched the window. Her heart pounded inside of her chest and her palms were sweaty.

Punching the pillow twice, she jerked the blanket over her head.  Once she fell asleep her nightmares would find her.

She wondered what it would be like to sleep peacefully for one night.

She could take the over-the-counter sleep aid that helped, but she didn’t like thinking she would be in a deep sleep and not arousing if something happened. A fire. A break-in. An important phone call. Who would call her in the middle of the night? No one called her during the day either. Her one, and only, friend was Cleo. Cara had more in common with the seasoned woman than anyone. Most thirty-year-olds were out having fun, but Cara stayed home every night. 

What would life be like if she found herself again, the young woman with compassion, adoration for life and a romantic fantasy of love and family? She’d been so happy before it was crushed under the weight of reality.

Turning on the light again, the pamphlet seemed to draw her like a beacon.

Her options were thin. She could live in fear and a safe bubble for the rest of her life, or get over the hell she’d once lived and had surrounded her like iron bars of a prison. Take a vacation. Do what normal people do.

She took the pamphlet and tapped the shiny paper with one nail.

It was time she kicked her husband out of her brain.

****

Ben Kade stared down the length of the pock-marked fence. Ranch hands, his friends and co-workers at Nirvana Ranch, were gathering around, greeting each other.

He looked out over the fields where the horses grazed. A hushed chatter arose from the men. Ben remained quiet, listening. There was always a tense excitement, for some more than others, as a new round of heartbreaks were scheduled to come and stay at the ranch.  ‘Heartbreaks’ was a name the staff called the visitors, because everyone who came through Nirvana had a story to tell, whether they knew it or not.  Heartbreaks spent a lot of money to come here to enjoy the outdoors, learn new life skills, fish and ride horses—and to get away from the hustle and bustle of a busy life. Over the years, he’d seen hundreds of women come and go, because ninety-nine percent of their guests were female. Most were single, some were married, and some were looking for a getaway while they cleared their head. Even a few came to hike through the vast trails or learn to cook by taking lessons from the staff chef. Several had come to meet the legendary rodeo star and owner of Nirvana—Chase Sever. Each and every one had their own reason. A lot of them were rich, city folk who wanted to find out what it was like on the other side of the fence, so to speak.

The workers here at Nirvana had stories to tell too, and most of them liked the fact that they were far away from civilization.

Ben looked at Maverick, who was leaning against the fence. The thirty-something cowboy wore his past on his harsh expression. He’d lost his wife to an illness six years ago. Further down he saw Jace, who grew up in a home with only his dad, who was an alcoholic. All of the men knew what it was like to lose, but Ben didn’t know all of their stories. Some weren’t as loose-lipped as others.

Ben started working as a ranch hand at Nirvana four years ago. Little did he know when he signed onto the job it would require more than tending horses and stacking bales of hay. It required healing, slowly and gradually. There was something about the countryside that made a person search for answers.

His main duty was to tend the horses, but he also liked to call himself the ‘friend’ of many women over the years. Sex between heartbreaks and hands was against the rules, although Ben knew that sometimes on a rare occasion the workers found themselves in situations where human nature took its natural course. For Ben, he didn’t like mixing personal and professional.

He laughed. To each his own.

He removed his hat and rubbed his forehead.

“I’m ready for the new heartbreaks,” Dade said as he took a seat on the top rail. “Ready to see people besides all you ugly men.”

Ben shook his head. “When aren’t you ready.”

Dade was the youngest cowboy and had more charm than he knew what to do with. His dimples alone made the ladies swoon, and his naïve, country boy innocence made him a danger to himself at times. He hadn’t quite earned his spurs yet, so to speak. He was a kid in a candy store. Chase, the owner, used Dade for transporting and errands. Ben knew Dade was in a hurry to advance on the proverbial ladder to success, to become a ranch hand, but the kid didn’t understand that everything looked better from afar.

“Maybe I’ll join you fellas in the ranks soon. I’m ready to do more than meet and greet.” Dade’s eyes twinkled with hope. “I want to teach riding lessons. I could also do crossbow lessons.”

“That’s up to the boss.” Ben wished he had half of Dade’s unabashed excitement. Once upon a time, Ben couldn’t wait for a new season, new opportunities. With age comes maturity. And disappointment.

He liked to keep the line between professional and personal drawn. He considered himself a man with a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen and a boost to a woman’s bruised ego. But he never allowed his emotions to get involved—or his dick. Some of the men joked that Ben didn’t have any emotions and that’s why he was good as a hand at Nirvana. He didn’t succumb to every pretty woman who batted her eyelashes—and boy did the ladies get out here in the country and get horny. Unfortunately, after an article was published in a prestigious magazine liking Nirvana to “a cowboy orgy” Chase was on a warpath. It was an unfair and unjust article by a journalist who hadn’t even visited Nirvana. Sure, some lines were crossed at times, but nothing more than what happened at any other R&R anywhere in the world.

“I second that, Dade. I’m ready to get this show on the road. I can’t wait for riding lessons.” Jared winked and pounded Dade on the back.

“You keep joking like that and we’re going to start believing you can’t keep your dick in your pants, Jared. And Chase is going to send you packing. It must be the bad boy image and the tattoos that have all the ladies falling.” Maverick chuckled.

“Did I hear the mention of ladies?” Dodge asked as he strolled up and took a seat on a bale of hay. Dodge was an ex-football player turned cowboy. After an injury to his knee during a game, he could no longer play. Ben believed the man was still sore, inside and out, over the defeat.

“We were in the middle of pointing out Jared’s talent with the women.” Ben put emphasis on the word ‘talent’. “I’m sure there’s at least one in the new batch who can’t resist his appeal.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Jared scrubbed his jaw. “A little flirting never hurt anyone.” Jared blew on the back of his knuckles and rubbed them down his plaid shirt.

“We’re hands. Not lovers. Most of these women wouldn’t even look twice at us out on the street. But loneliness can turn a frog into a prince.” Dodge shook his head.

“There are limits to everything, boys.”  Chase sauntered over. Salt and peppered hair, pale eyes and a harsh jawline, he had a power about him that warned others that he wasn’t one to mess with. But he was a helluva good boss—the best—and was always fair and easy to talk to.  “And Jared, I think sometimes your boundaries are blurred. Good thing that hasn’t become a problem yet. You’re a damn good worker. I’d hate to lose you because you can’t see the lines. Remember, it’s my reputation on the line if you fuck up, so don’t.”

“Has a heartbreak complained?” Jared lifted one thick brow.

“No, on the contrary.” Chase removed his hat and hooked it on the post. “So far, all of the women gush about that purdy tattoo you have on your left cheek. No one seems to mind that you like to skinny dip.”

Jared smiled ear-to-ear and patted one pocket of his worn jeans. “The bull never lets anyone down.”

Laughter bellowed from the men. The cowboys had become Ben’s friends…more than that though. They were his family, something he’d lost before he came here. They didn’t always get along, and sometimes they were known to throw punches, but they respected each other.  Ben knew they had his back, and he had theirs. There was something soothing about the ranch and he was glad to be a part of the change that happened to others—but lately he felt that he was missing something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.