Stone Cold Cowboy (11 page)

Sadie pushed on his shoulders to make him turn away and gave him a push. “Come on, cowboy. You said we're going to have fun, so let's get to going.” She closed the truck door behind him.

He hit the lock button on his key fob and took a few steps toward the theater. Just to tease and have some of that fun he talked about, he asked, “Are you staring at my ass?”

“If you're walking, I'm watching.”

He'd said the same thing to her. He turned back to her laughing and smiling. He couldn't remember smiling this much or feeling this light in a long time.

“I need to send the Levi's company a thank-you letter.”

“Who do I thank for that skirt?”

She executed another turn, smiled, and smoothed her hands over her hips. “What? This old thing?”

He held his hand out to her. “Come here.”

She took his hand, and he pulled her in for a quick kiss.

He kept things light and walked beside her, holding her hand on the way to the ticket booth outside the theater. “There are three movies playing within twenty minutes of each other. Which one do you want to see?”

“I get to pick? This is setting a dangerous precedent, don't you think?”

“Only if you pick the chick flick.”

“Which you'd sit through just to spend the evening with me.” She batted her lashes at him, messing around.

“Yes. Of course I'd have to find something to do when I got bored. You'll probably miss most of the movie.”

She laughed. “I wouldn't do that to you.”

“You can do whatever you want to me.”

She looked away, a pretty blush glowing on her cheeks.

He'd made her nervous. He didn't want to do that, so he dialed it back. “Really, whatever movie you want is fine with me.”

“So we're down to the superhero action flick or the historical drama. It's really no choice at all.”

She walked up to the ticket guy and asked for two tickets to the newest Avengers movie.

“Have I told you how much I like you?” He bumped her shoulder and handed the money over to pay for the tickets.

“How much?”

He leaned down and kissed her softly. “More than that.”

She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door. “We need popcorn. No butter. Unless you like butter, then we have to get separate tubs.”

“No butter.” He liked it salty, not soggy.

“Great. My kind of guy.”

“I guess I am.” And that felt so right. Now if he could make her his woman.

“I don't drink soda, so I'll have an iced tea.”

“Really? No soda?”

“Too sweet.”

Rory ordered the tub of popcorn and two iced teas. They walked to the theater, and he handed over the tickets to the usher, whose eyes nearly popped out of his head when he caught sight of Sadie in that damn sexy skirt. He wasn't the only guy Rory ended up glaring at to keep their distance from his date.

He followed Sadie to their seats in the middle of the theater, several rows up past dead center. She liked to be up high, but not at the back. She knew what she liked and didn't mind letting him know or doing what she wanted. She didn't just go along. He appreciated a woman who knew her own mind.

They watched the opening trailers, laughing when they bumped hands reaching for the popcorn. So in sync it happened nearly every time. A quarter way through the movie, Sadie propped her feet on the empty seat in front of her, leaned into him, rested her head on his shoulder, and held his hand through the rest of the movie. He laughed when she jumped during a few of the more intense scenes. She punched him in the shoulder for spooking her as the background music intensified and the scene built for the bad guy to attack the good guys. She didn't settle back into him, so he reached over and pulled her close. She settled in with an “I'll get you for that.”

The movie ended, but they didn't get up right away. Instead, they sat together, holding hands, watching everyone else file out.

Sadie sighed and leaned away from Rory. “I really enjoyed the movie, but it's late, and I'm sorry to say, I need to get home and check on my dad.”

He kissed her forehead, completely understanding her worry. He stood and pulled her up beside him. He walked from the theater to his truck, holding her hand, thrilling at the heat still radiating inside him and the connection they kept building between them.

She climbed into the truck and pulled her legs in, smoothing her skirt down her thighs. He meant to close the door. He really did. Instead, he reached for her,
gripping her thighs, turning her back toward him, and used his other hand to tilt her chin up so he could kiss her. He had to kiss her.

Her hand fisted in his shirt at his shoulder and she tugged him closer. He couldn't get close enough with her skirt keeping him from spreading her legs and pulling her hips to his. He gave in to his need to touch her, sliding his hand down from her jaw to her neck, tracing her throat with his fingertips and down over her chest. She changed the angle of her head and took the kiss deeper. He trailed his fingertips over the top of her breast, then laid his palm over the soft globe and squeezed.

She sighed and nearly undid him altogether.

So soft. So sweet. So his, but he reined it in, sweeping his thumb over her hard nipple, sliding his hand up over the soft mound, back up her chest and throat to her silky smooth cheek. He ended the kiss with a soft brush of his lips to hers, pressed his forehead to hers, and just breathed her in.

“Dangerously addictive,” he whispered, trying to hold on to his control.

“Yes, you are.” She smoothed her hands over his chest and up to his face. She held him away from her and looked up at him. “I'm glad you asked me out.”

“So am I.”

He stepped back, gently touched his hand to her legs to get her to turn back into the truck. This time, she didn't flinch even a little bit at his touch. Her hair fell down her back in waves. He reached for one of the wavy locks and let it slide through his hand over her chest. The back of his hand brushed softly over her breast a second before her hair fell free. Her breath
caught and her eyes widened with surprise at his touch, then blazed with heat. He closed the door even though he wanted to have her right there on the front seat of his truck in the middle of the parking lot. He rounded the hood, taking a deep breath to cool off, and hopped into the truck beside her.

Sadie shimmied over to him. No hesitation, just the same need to be close that he felt for her. The quiet drive home never felt uncomfortable. In fact, she sat beside him, holding his hand in both of hers, tracing his fingers in an absent way that showed him she liked being with him. He really liked being with her. So much so that he was thinking up a thousand and one ways to see her again.

S
adie sat bolt upright and squeezed Rory's hand. “Stop the truck.” She turned to him and grabbed his shoulder. “Stop. Stop right now.”

Rory slammed on the brakes and pulled off the road.

The lights from her home shone in the distance, but that's not what caught her attention. She'd been staring out the window, wishing on stars, high on the happiness she felt after such a great evening with Rory. Then she spotted a shadow in the field and panicked.

Sadie grabbed the handle, pushed the door open, jumped out, scrambled through the barbed wire fencing, and ran. She sprinted across the field as the shadow stumbled. It seemed to take forever to reach her father, but when she did, she held him by the shoulders and looked him over from head to toe.

“Dad, what are you doing out here?”

“I can't find her. She's not in the house. I thought she came out to see the stars. She loved looking at the stars.”

Sadie let out a frustrated breath, the fear ebbing inside her. Rory ran up and immediately reached out to brush his hand down her hair. The relief in his eyes that she was okay touched her.

“Dad, Mom isn't here. Let's go back to the house.”

“I have to find her.”

Sadie took her father's too thin face in her shaking hands. “Dad, do you see me?”

The fog of uncertainty cleared from his eyes and turned to a fear she hated to see in their depths. “Sa-Sadie.”

Tears clogged her throat, but she blinked them away from her eyes. “Yes, Dad. It's me. You've been wandering again.”

Her father turned his head this way and that. “I . . . I got confused.”

“It's all right. I'm here now.”

“My feet hurt.” Her father stared down at his bare feet.

Sadie knelt and looked more closely, unable to make much out in the dark night. “Rory, can you hold on to him, please. Dad, lift your foot for me.” He'd walked quite a distance over the rough, rocky terrain. “You've got a couple small cuts and scrapes.”

“I can carry him to the truck,” Rory volunteered.

Sadie stared across the field. Quite a distance to the truck, but Rory was a big, strong cowboy more than capable of carrying her thinning father, who was a good six inches shorter than Rory's six-four frame.

Rory didn't wait for an answer, just dipped, put his arm at her father's back and knees, and picked him right up.

“Hey, I can walk.”

“I got you, Mr. Higgins. You don't want to upset your daughter. Let's get you home.”

“Sadie, honey, I'm sorry.”

Sadie trotted after Rory, trying to keep up with his
long strides and still carry the heavy weight of guilt knotted in her gut. “It's okay, Dad.”

Rory lifted her father over the wire fencing and set him on the grass on the other side without breaking a sweat or grunting with the effort. He ducked through the wire and held it open for her to climb through. He gave her a soft smile and rubbed her back as they stood outside his truck. Her father climbed up into the seat. The overhead light made it easier for her to see his poor feet.

“We'll clean your feet and put something on those cuts when we get home.”

Her father stared past her at Rory with his hands on her shoulders. “I'm glad she's got you looking out for her.”

“I won't let anything happen to her, sir.” Promise filled his deep voice.

It touched Sadie. Her heart swelled, and all those thoughts about how much she liked him coalesced into one wondrous and yet not so surprising thought. This thing they shared was something more, deeper, special.

His hand brushed down her hair and closed around a chunk. “Come on, sweetheart, let's get you both home.”

For the first time, she let her mind go to that dark place she'd avoided these last months. Soon, she'd be living in that house alone. Her father would be gone, her brother out of reach, and she'd be alone.

Overwhelmed with sadness, she turned to Rory and hugged him close, her face buried in his chest.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I'm here,” and held her close, his fingers rubbing back and forth on her back.

Yes, Rory was there for her. He saved her. He wanted to be with her. But for how long? Would it last? Was it real or just her need to find something good to hold on to when everything else in her life seemed to be slipping through her fingers, no matter how hard she held on?

His hands rubbed up and down her arms. “It's okay.”

Lost in her own swirling thoughts about how not okay this situation with her father was, she released Rory and climbed into the truck beside her dad.

Rory closed the door and walked around the front of the truck.

“You two are right together,” her father said, patting her leg as Rory climbed in and drove them to the house.

Were they? Did Rory think so, too? How could she ask him something like that? They'd only started seeing each other. Of course, she saw him every day.

Rory pulled up in her driveway. She got out, and Rory helped her father up the porch steps, his arm braced around her father's shoulders.

“Take him back to his room. I'll gather what I need to fix his feet.”

Sadie grabbed a large metal bowl out of the cupboard and ran the water in the sink until it warmed. She filled the bowl, grabbed some paper towels, and took both down the hall to her father's room.

She stopped short and took in her father's soft words.

“She needs someone like you.”

“I need someone like her, sir. Don't worry. I'll take care of her.”

Sadie remained stuck in place outside the room out of their sight. She didn't know if Rory was only trying
to appease her father, or if he meant those seemingly sincere words.

“It won't be long now,” her father said, tearing another hole in her broken heart.

“She won't be alone.”

As much as Sadie relished these moments when her father was lucid and alert, Sadie couldn't take much more. She stepped into the room, trying her best to put on a brave face and not cry out all her sorrow and anger that her father was dying, that he was going to leave her. Stupid. Unreasonable. But that's how she felt and it made her mad, because she didn't want to feel this way. She wanted her father to be okay, but it was long past wishing.

Rory sat beside her father, a look of sorrow drawing his features into lines on his forehead and around his mouth. The grim look made the smiles and laughs they shared earlier seem so far away.

Rory stood and came to her. He placed his hand on the side of her head and tilted it toward him. He kissed her on top of the head and left the room without a word.

Sadie mustered up her resolve and got down to business. She didn't want to dwell on their exchange or the rioting feelings inside her.

She set the bowl of warm water on the floor and placed one of her father's feet inside. She gently washed away the grime, then dried it with the paper towels. Rory walked back in with the first aid kit he must have found in the bathroom next to her bedroom.

“Thanks.”

He left again in his quiet, intense way without saying anything. She washed and dried her father's other foot and helped him scoot back on the bed. She dropped a
pillow behind his back at the headboard and set his feet on the mattress.

She stared into his familiar eyes, so filled with pain and regret now her heart ached. “Dad, what's really going on with you?”

“You know what's happening. Is the why and how so important when the outcome is still the same?”

“Maybe a doctor could . . .”

Her father shook his head, his eyes filled with a deep resignation that nothing could or would change the inevitable.

“I like Rory. He's a family man, the kind who works hard and sticks.”

Knowing time was running out, she thought of all her father would miss in her life, and it made her heart ache even more. “He's a good man.”

“Do you love him?”

“We've only just started seeing each other, but what I feel for him is so deep and overwhelming.”

“I'm happy for you, Sadie. I'm glad I got to meet him.”

“Dad . . .” She didn't know what to say.

“You can't change what is, honey. Not with me. Not with life. Not with love. Accept. It makes things a lot easier.”

“Are you scared?” she asked, because her fear for him grew each and every time something like tonight happened.

“Sometimes. But not for you. I know you'll be okay. You're strong.”

“I don't feel that way sometimes.”

“But you always pull through. We can't always be at our best. Sometimes we need to lean on those closest
to us. I lean on you. You lean on me. If you truly care about Rory, let him in. Lean on him when you need him. Relationships are built on the good times and the bad. Working through the bad draws you closer together and makes the good times you share so much richer and better.”

If she and Rory could get through her brother stealing him blind, maybe they had a chance of having something more.

She quickly spread ointment on the small nicks and put bandages on the deeper cuts.

“My feet look a little like you did when you came home. We're a pair, aren't we, honey?”

Choked up, she whispered, “Yes, we are.”

His mouth tipped down into a regretful frown. “Connor's in trouble, isn't he?”

“Yes. He stole from the Kendricks. He's working with some really bad people.”

Her father laid his hand on her scarred wrist. “I'm sorry he hurt you.”

“Dad, I'm okay.”

“Unless Connor changes his ways, I fear his life will be fraught with pain and unhappiness. Don't let his life, his choices ruin yours. You are not responsible for his happiness. Don't give up what you want, trying to help him. You cannot make him see things your way because he doesn't have your kindness, your thoughtfulness, your heart.” Her father placed his hand on her cheek. She leaned into his comfort and warmth. “Please, honey, promise me you'll choose happiness, you'll choose
you
before him. If you always put others first, you'll always come in last.”

“Dad, Connor has lost his way, but I can't believe he's hopeless.”

“No, Sadie, he chooses the wrong path even when he has other options available to him. If you have a chance for something more, something good, take it. Don't let him keep taking pieces of you and what is yours. Don't sacrifice what you have and what you want for someone who won't do the same for you.” Her father's fingers traced the scars on her wrists again.

“Since your mother died, you've had to do what needs to be done. You got through school. You worked to earn money that we needed here, but mostly to keep your brother from spending the rest of his life in jail. There's little left here for you. I'm sorry about that. I wish these last years had been different for you, less struggle and more living your dreams. Everything I have will go to you, Sadie. Not because I don't want to leave your brother a piece of what I worked so hard to hold on to, but because I leave it to you to decide how best to help your brother.

“Maybe that means not helping him at all. Maybe instead of catching him, you need to let him fall. Maybe that's the only way he'll learn that it hurts and to make better decisions.

“You're a smart girl. You'll know what to do. You can't blame yourself for the things he's done. His happiness and life are not your responsibility. His shortcomings are not your failures.

“My grief over your mother's death made me too lenient with him. I regret that now. I should have been tougher. I shouldn't have let you pick up my slack and take the lead with him. I should have been a better
parent. I taught you how to be strong and see things through, but I forgot to teach you that sometimes if you hold on too tight, all you get are rope burns.”

“It's hard to let go.” She sat beside him on the bed, leaned into him, and tilted her head to his.

Her father took her hand and squeezed it. “Yes, it is.”