Читать книгу Reunited With The Cowboy - Claire McEwen - Страница 14

CHAPTER TWO

CALEB THREW A dollar tip on the bar and took a gulp of his second beer. Dex’s Alehouse was busy for a Tuesday night. The usual customers crowded around the beat-up dartboards and pool tables. Ranch hands, workers from the vineyards, mechanics and store clerks—the regular folks of Shelter Creek—all showed up here.

Most of the town’s wealthier residents would be over at the new craft brewpub, or one of the wine bars that had opened up in Shelter Creek over the last few years. Change was coming, courtesy of better roads and direct flights from Los Angeles to the nearby city of Santa Rosa. Ranch land was being plowed under for vineyards. Big tasting rooms and cute inns were drawing weekend tourist crowds.

If he could, Caleb would pick up the whole town and move it a few hundred miles north, away from all the tourists. He’d keep it small and simple, just the way it had always been. Dex always said that Caleb lived in the past, and maybe that was true. So far the present hadn’t shown him much to get excited about.

Except now Maya was back. Though that wasn’t exciting. It was so many feelings, he didn’t even have words for them all. The combination was irritating, like a horsefly that kept buzzing around his head no matter how many times he slapped it away.

Why the hell did she have to be so...so Maya? Even on a dark trail, with a huge backpack on her back, she’d been achingly familiar. The flashlight had caught her long brown hair, woven into braids, the way she used to wear it when they went riding or did stuff around the ranch. He’d seen the shadows below her cheekbones and the light in her eyes.

He’d thought he’d never have to see any of that again. Figured it was for the best. Whatever had been between them was in the past. Separated from the present by the massive chasm of his sister’s death in Maya’s car.

He’d raged at Maya after the accident. Raged and blamed and thrown his grief like grenades, destroying everything they’d had.

Still, somehow, last night on the trail, there’d been this thread, this connection. A tenuous glimmer of remembered love and shared pain that had linked them together.

He hadn’t felt linked to anyone since he’d said goodbye to the guys in his platoon and left for home. And even those connections had been different. Camaraderie. Teamwork. Friendship.

What he’d felt last night was far more confusing. A vague sense that, on some deep level, she knew him and he knew her. And even if what they knew about each other contained so much that was bad, it still made him feel less adrift.

He practically lifted his hand to swat that last thought away. Darn horsefly.

Where was Jace? He’d talked his buddy into meeting him here, hoping his old friend would lighten his dark mood. He needed the distraction. He couldn’t stand here thinking about Maya for another second.

Caleb pushed his way through the crowd and wrote his name on the chalkboard near the pool tables. Then he leaned on the wall to watch the play. A guy he didn’t recognize lined up his cue to take a shot. He was going for the eight ball, and no way was he going to make it. Caleb bit back the urge to help him out and watched him miss instead. Watched his friend clap him on the back in triumph and go on to win the game.

Winners and losers. Life had clearly defined boundaries about that. And Caleb knew which category he fit into. He’d tried to come to terms with losing everything. Tried to be okay with wanting nothing more than a clear deed for the ranch and a few beers at the end of the day.

Ever since he’d come home from Afghanistan, he’d tried to believe it was enough.

Glancing toward the door, Caleb spotted Jace heading for the bar, well-dressed as always, in dark jeans, polished boots and a plaid Western shirt. The former bull rider had been a total ladies’ man on the circuit, and he still dressed the part.

Glancing down at his own worn black T-shirt with the feed company logo chipped and faded across the chest, Caleb figured he had a ways to go in that department. Which was okay by him. Women wanted things he couldn’t give. Money. Stability. Fun.

There were a few empty tables, and maybe he should grab one, but Caleb was too wired to sit. He’d been fired up ever since he’d run into Maya last night.

She was coming by his ranch to give him advice on Thursday. That was rich. His townie ex-girlfriend had gone off to college to become an expert on ranching? She had the authority to tell him not to shoot the mountain lion that threatened his sheep?

He drained his beer. When he’d finished, Jace was just a few steps away. “You look like hell.”

Caleb set his empty down. “Glad to see you too. I wasn’t sure you’d get away from the rug rats tonight.” Jace was the brand-new foster parent for his nieces and nephew, and he had shadows under his eyes to prove it.

Jace smiled wearily. “I just hope they’re not tearing up the place. Carly said she’d get them to bed on time, but I have my doubts.”

“Well, from what you’ve told me, Carly is used to being responsible for the other kids.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she likes it.” Jace took a gulp from his beer, like he had to fortify himself just to think about his fifteen-year-old niece. “Teenage girls are scary.”

“Well, scary or not, I’m glad she took over tonight. It’s good to have you back in town.”

“I won’t have a lot of time for bars, but you’re always welcome to stop by. Come for dinner. Though I can’t promise much. My cooking skills are still pretty hit-or-miss.” Jace grinned. “Mostly miss.”

Caleb tried to meet his friend’s smile. He should be going by, should be helping Jace out. But the whole family thing made him uncomfortable. What would he say to a kid? What would he talk about at a family meal? His own family had fallen apart after Julie died—his parents had split up and first Mom, then Dad, had left town. It had been over a decade since Caleb had sat down to a family dinner.

“Have you heard anything about your sister’s trial? Is she really in jail for the long haul?” Caleb still couldn’t believe it. Jace’s older sister, Brenda, had always seemed so sophisticated and smart. Then she’d gotten hooked on drugs and started a relationship with her dealer.

Jace leaned on the wall beside him. “Twenty years for drug manufacturing, distribution, weapons, all kinds of stuff. On top of neglect of her kids.”

“That’s rough. How are the kids doing?”

“Let’s just say it’s an adjustment period for all of us.” Jace took a long pull of his beer, then swiped a sleeve across his mouth in a careless gesture that spoke reams about his state of mind. “I just wish I’d paid more attention. Figured out what was really going on. Those kids have seen way too much. It messes with them.”

Caleb cast around for some words of reassurance. He was rusty at any kind of real conversation. The weather, livestock, the cost of feed... He could talk about all that. But he’d learned a long time ago that his own inner world contained troubles too big to share. They stopped conversations. Made everyone look miserable. So he avoided talking about anything heavy. Better to stay on the surface than drown in the depths.

He surveyed the bar, looking for a new topic. They could always talk cattle. Jace had recently purchased an old ranch, and he could go on for hours about the bucking bulls he planned to raise once he got the place fixed up.

A woman sitting at the bar looked familiar. She turned to say something to her companion, and her name hit Caleb like a blow to the gut. Trisha Gilbert. Julie’s best friend growing up, who’d been with her the night of the accident. Who’d survived.

He hadn’t run into Trisha since he’d been home. What was going on? First Maya, and now this? Was there some cruel alignment of the planets that was bringing these women back into his life? He didn’t need reminders of the accident. He had plenty, every day that he lived and his little sister didn’t.

As Caleb watched, Trisha slid off a stool and walked toward the restroom. She moved with a slight limp and Caleb wondered if that was her souvenir from that horrible night. Trisha’s leg had been broken in a couple of places.

The guy she was with—kind of a skinny, ratty-looking dude—glanced furtively around the bar, reached into his pocket, took something out and dropped it in Trisha’s drink.

“Holy hell,” Caleb murmured, taking a few steps forward. He set his beer down on the nearest table, ignoring the protests of its occupants.

“What’s going on?” Jace moved to stand beside him.

Caleb pointed to the bar. “That guy right there? He drugged Trisha’s drink.”

Cold fury flooded Caleb’s system, pressing out from inside his chest, and he was moving, shoving aside chairs and people until he was in front of the ratty man. He grabbed the guy’s collar. “What did you put in it?”

“Get off me,” the guy spluttered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw you,” Caleb ground out, gripping him even harder. “I saw you put something in that drink.”

“Is there a problem?” The bartender, Royce, was Dex’s nephew. Small, young, not much help in a fight.

“This guy spiked his date’s drink.” Jace handed Royce the glass. “Save that. Call the cops.”

Royce eyed the man in disgust and put the drink out of sight, behind the bar. “I’m calling.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.

“I didn’t do anything.” The man’s whine scraped away the last shreds of Caleb’s civility. Men like this hurt women and there were too many of them out there, wreaking havoc. Older guys had gotten Trisha and Julie drunk, the night Julie died. And now this jerk was hoping to do God-knows-what to Trisha.

The idea of some guy targeting Julie, in some future that could never happen, curled Caleb’s fingers tighter around the man’s coat. “Don’t ever come back here.” Caleb pulled him off the stool, shoved him toward the door, once, twice, herding the stumbling, stammering scum.

“Back off,” the man squeaked as he crashed into a table.

Caleb grabbed the weasel one more time and hauled him out into the night.

In the parking lot, the man tried to break free, but Caleb held tight and raised his fist. Trisha could have been his sister. She could have been Julie.

Someone grabbed his hand and forced it down. “Get a hold of yourself,” Jace commanded, low and stern, wrenching Caleb’s arm behind his back. “You’ve done enough.”

The weasel saw his chance and ran for his vehicle.

Headlights lit up the night as a sheriff’s car turned into the parking lot and pulled alongside them. The window lowered to reveal the scowling face of Adam Sears, now Deputy Sears, a friend from high school. “I heard there’s a problem. And look who it is. I should have known I’d find you out here, Caleb.”

It was hard to look dignified when your buddy had you in an arm lock, but Caleb tried. “It’s that guy over there, getting into the silver pickup.”

“Caleb, were you beating on the guy? I warned you last time. No more fights.”

“I just chucked him out of the bar.” The irritation was back, several horseflies now, buzzing wildly in Caleb’s mind. Adam was wasting time while the jerk got away.

Adam shook his head like a disappointed dad. “This wasn’t your problem to solve.”

“I don’t see you solving it.” Caleb tried to break free, but Jace wouldn’t budge. “Why don’t you do your job and stop him before he drives off?”

Adam pointed toward another car pulling into the lot, lights flashing. “He won’t get far. And my job is to keep the peace. Right now that means stopping you from doing anything stupid. I don’t want you back in my jail. I don’t want to charge you with assault. So calm down. Okay?”

Breath coming in ragged gulps, Caleb jerked his head toward the silver truck. “Shouldn’t you be talking to him?”

“I will be. But I also want to talk to you. Tomorrow morning. Meet me at the diner at nine.”

“I’ve got a ranch to run.” No way did he want a heart-to-heart about his wrongdoings with Adam, who made straight and narrow look so easy.

“Just meet him,” Jace said in a low voice. “You’re lucky he’s not arresting you.” He loosened his grip, and Caleb’s arm flopped back down to his side, the blood flooding in with pins and needles.

“Fine.” Caleb’s vision was clearing, the laser focus on his quarry easing. He suddenly noticed all the people who’d followed them out of the bar. They were standing around, gaping at him. Once again, he’d provided the entertainment at Dex’s. He should start charging admission. He glared at Adam. “But you’re buying.”

“Just be there.” Adam finally turned to look at the man who’d tried to drug Trisha. The coward had his hands on the truck while the newly arrived deputy frisked him. Adam took his microphone off the dashboard and his voice blared through the loudspeaker, silencing everyone in the lot. “Okay folks, that’s a wrap. Time to go inside.”

“Show off,” Caleb muttered as Adam drove off across the lot to help arrest the guy. “Come on. I could use another drink. And we should check on Trisha.”

“Hang on.” Jace put a hand on his arm to stop him, jerking it back when Caleb whirled to face him.

“What? Are you gonna give me a lecture too? I’m pretty sure Adam will take care of that tomorrow.”

“C’mon. I’ve known you forever. What is wrong with you?” Jace looked tired all of a sudden, and Caleb remembered everything his friend was dealing with at home. He’d lost his rodeo career, his entire life, when he’d taken on his sister’s kids.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Just saying the words felt like effort. The rage that had powered him into overdrive was fading. Now even the air felt heavy, weighing down muscle and bone.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jace mimicked. “You sound like a teenager. And I’ve already got one of those in my life. Seriously, what happened? Why are you so angry all the time?”

Where the hell to start? All the problems on the ranch that he couldn’t find the money to repair? The nightmares that stole his sleep? Or he could always blame Afghanistan, and everything that went down in that dusty hellhole.

Talking about that kind of stuff was impossible. So he’d blame the most immediate issue. “A mountain lion has been killing off my sheep. I got a permit, and last night I went out to shoot it. I ran into Maya instead.”

“Maya Burton?” Jace stared. “What was Maya doing near your ranch?”

Haunting him. A beautiful, brainy, scientist-ghost. “She’s some kind of expert on mountain lions. She said she was tracking them.”

“Sounds like she can’t be as smart as we all thought if her job involves chasing lions.”

“Maybe.” Caleb glowered, too much feeling coursing through him to appreciate the lame joke. He’d almost killed her. Almost shot her out there, on that trail. “She wants to come by my ranch and tell me how to keep them away.”

Jace blew out a breath. “That doesn’t seem like a great idea. You could tell her you’d rather not.”

“Trust me, I tried. But there are new laws, and apparently listening to her is one of them.” But there was more. Maya wasn’t the only reason to lose it. “Then Trisha tonight...well, it felt almost like someone was trying to hurt Julie.” Caleb ran a hand through his hair, trying to bring his thoughts into some kind of order. “Coming home, being on the ranch, seeing Maya and now Trisha, it just brings it all back.”

“I get it,” Jace said quietly. “I really do. But you’ve got to find a way to keep the past from messing up the present.”

Caleb eyed this new, mature version of his friend. “Not too long ago you would have landed a punch or two yourself.”

“Not too long ago I didn’t have three kids to think about,” Jace countered. “I’ve had to change. Maybe it’s time you grew up too.”

The old sorrow knotted in Caleb’s stomach. “I kind of feel like I grew up a long time ago. But I skipped the fun part and went straight to being the bitter old guy hunched at the end of the bar.”

“You’ve got to get over the things that are eating at you. Adam isn’t going to let you off with a chat over breakfast if this kind of thing happens again. You’re not a Marine anymore. You can’t deal with your problems via combat.”

Jace was right. But sometimes it was hard to stop fighting, after he’d spent so many years doing just that.

Caleb looked over at Adam, still across the parking lot, talking to the other deputy. His old friend had locked him up once already, a few months ago, the day Caleb realized that his dad had stopped paying taxes and the state was about to take possession of the ranch. Caleb had gotten drunk and disorderly at Dex’s as he tried to absorb the news—that his beloved Bar D Ranch, which he’d held in his mind like a precious prize to claim once he’d finished his final tour, was about to slip out of his hands.

He’d never told Adam or Jace the reason for his binge that night. He was too ashamed of the poverty, the way that his family, once respected and influential in Shelter Creek, was about to lose the very ground beneath their feet. Instead he’d sobered up in the drunk tank and gone home to figure out how to save the ranch.

And he had. Sort of. He’d worked out a payment plan with the state that could save the Bar D, eventually. But making those payments was a challenge, especially when the ranch also needed so many repairs. So when a mountain lion had taken a couple of sheep last week, it had felt even more personal than it might have otherwise. Those sheep were Caleb’s only hope of income, his chance to get himself out of this financial mess.

Jace cleared his throat. “Want to see if we’re up at the pool table yet?”

Good old Jace. Knowing when to stop lecturing and have some fun. “Okay.” Caleb clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jace pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it. “I’ve got to be home in an hour. And you should go home then too.”

“Yes, Dad.” Caleb winced as Jace landed a punch to his shoulder. “Ouch. I thought you were a pacifist now.”

“Mostly. But as your friend, it’s still my duty to hit you when you’re being an idiot.”

“Then I guess you’ve got yourself a new punching bag.”

“You’ve got to grow up. I’m serious.”

“I’m grown. I promise.” Caleb followed Jace back into the bar, knowing his friend was right. Adam was right. He had to stop fighting. He had to stop drinking so much. But if he did, what would he have left?

Nothing but troubles he didn’t know how to solve and memories he didn’t want to face.