Last Chance Cowboy Page 15

  “Thank you. I like shoes in general.”

  She glanced at the ceiling, where both their images were reflected in the mirrored tiles. She looked again at the top of Grey’s head, the cowlick in his light brown hair matted down by the black Stetson he held in his hands. To her discomfort, she suddenly wanted to run her fingers through that glossy hair.

  The doors whooshed open at her floor—thank goodness—and she darted out into the hall, praying he wouldn’t come after her. The elevator doors closed on Hootie and Grey. He called out, repeating her earlier words, “See you at dinner.”

  To Shadow, the mundane promise sounded more like a warning of the more serious, and necessary, discussion to come.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DINNER WAS NEARLY over and Shadow had choked down only a few bites. She sat beside Grey, trying to keep her mind on the lively conversation, but although he’d cleaned his plate of a monstrous steak, Grey wasn’t taking part in the talk, either. Logan was across from her next to Blossom, and Finn, who had come by himself, had pulled up a chair from another table at the end of theirs. As soon as Finn appeared, Grey had guided Shadow to the chair beside his, but she avoided looking at him or Finn.

  Shadow’s stomach was in knots so tight they might never untangle.

  “...and I’m so happy Tammy can be in the wedding,” Blossom was saying, her hand tucked into Logan’s on the tablecloth. “But she won’t get here until the night before. Work stuff.”

  “Best friends?” Finn asked, shooting a look at Grey and Shadow.

  “She was my rock when Ken was trying to find me.”

  Months ago, Blossom’s abusive ex-fiancé had threatened her, then tried to intimidate Tammy into telling him Blossom’s whereabouts, which had sent Blossom running from Pennsylvania straight into Logan’s arms.

  “I’m happy for you both,” Finn said. Like Shadow, he knew that not long ago Logan had gone through a bad time with his ex-wife and had temporarily lost custody of his young son. Now all that was behind them, in part because Logan and Blossom had learned to rely on each other and their love. And Olivia, his ex, had softened her stance.

  Shadow pushed back her chair. “I think I’ll go upstairs. Long day,” she added in a tone that, even to her, sounded unconvincing.

  Grey tilted his head toward her plate. “Rainbow trout not to your liking?”

  The lemon-butter sauce on the fish had congealed on the mostly full plate. “I wasn’t hungry. You can have it if you want.”

  Blossom looked at her with concern. “Are you feeling okay? Nick’s had a bad head cold this week. It’s going around.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, taking a step away from the table. “Good night, all. See you in the morning. I’ll need help picking out my dress.”

  Unless she decided to get her Mustang from the valet tonight and head home, buy something local, instead—not that there’d be many choices in Barren.

  She was halfway to the elevators when Grey stopped her. According to the numbers above the doors, the next car was on the twentieth floor but not moving.

  His eyes a dark teal green, he gestured toward the hotel bar. “Let me buy you a drink to settle your nerves. And mine.”

  “I’m not nervous—except about you and Finn. You two were eyeing each other like Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton in a duel.”

  “At least neither of us died.” When Shadow didn’t respond to his weak attempt at humor, he sighed. “I didn’t think it was that obvious.”

  “And practically forcing me to sit right next to you?”

  Grey scoffed. “You and I just arrived first and took the available seats.” He paused. “I let Finn get his own chair.”

  Grey steered her away from the elevators just as the next car arrived, and Shadow didn’t resist. Maybe this was the best opportunity to talk to him. They went across to the bar, where he picked a corner booth away from the few other patrons then gestured at the bartender. When the man wandered over to take their orders, his eyes still on a baseball game on the television above the bar, Grey asked, “You, Shadow?”

  “Sparkling water, please.”

  Grey chose an imported beer. He waited till their drinks came, then took a first sip before he set his bottle down with a distinct clink on the table. He ran a finger around the rim. “First, I owe you an apology. My trying to tease you in the lobby before was a clumsy lead-in when I should have just walked up to you and said straight out, ‘I’m sorry.’ I know you didn’t mean for me to meet Ava like that—and on the very day you brought her to Barren. I know I should have called first, but I didn’t. Guess I deserved to get shocked. Again, I apologize.”

  “I appreciate that,” she said. “Apology accepted.” Shadow reached into her bag and pulled out a small book with a quilted white cover. In pink across the album were the four letters, B-A-B-Y.

  Grey stared at it. “Ava’s baby book?”

  As he took it, Shadow nodded. “Some of her first pictures. There are a lot more, and you can see them whenever you want, but I couldn’t bring them all. If you like any of these, you can make copies.”

  He was already leafing through the book, stopping here and there. He ran a finger over an image of Ava at one month old. “She had fuzzy hair,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Lighter than it is now. Like...mine. Mostly, though, she just looks like...herself.”

  Shadow’s heart hurt. “Oh, Grey.” She had deprived him of so many years, so much time and every milestone in Ava’s life.

  He couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “I already know about Doc, the Merritts, the adoption you’d planned for... Tell me why you didn’t go through with that. Tell me about when she was born.”

  Shadow moved her water glass around on the table. “That wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “It started in the middle of the night.” At first, she hadn’t recognized the persistent ache down low in her back for what it was and had tried to go back to sleep. “I woke the Merritts and they drove me to Farrier General then came all the way to my room, when all I wanted was to be alone.” Grey’s gaze was still on the baby album, though he hadn’t turned another page. “Once I got settled, they went to the waiting room, and I kept picturing them holding hands, anticipating the arrival of ‘their’ baby. That would be the most important day of their lives, Mrs. Merritt had told me. They would become parents at last, have the family they’d always longed for.

  “The pains got worse, closer together, until there was hardly any time between them. The nurse kept telling me to breathe.”

  Grey had gone pale. “You shouldn’t have been alone. I understand about the Merritts not being in the room, but...”

  “That was hospital policy. That’s not what you mean though, is it?” She caught his gaze. “I know, Grey. When it was happening, I cursed you for not being there, for not having any idea what I was going through. Even though I only had myself to blame for that.” She paused, and when he didn’t say anything, she went on. “Finally, it was time to push. By then the doctor had joined us. All at once, I raised my head, saw her hands cupped to receive a tiny body. And there was Ava.”

  Grey finally met her eyes. His gaze was somber, liquid. She wanted him to hear everything.

  “I was exhausted but happy, and I watched the nurse wrap her in a blanket and put a pink knitted cap on her head. She had quite a lot of hair for a newborn, as you said. But I couldn’t see her face. The nurse had turned away, started to leave. Then the baby started to cry, and I...” Shadow remembered that tug, deep inside of her. “I told her to wait. She stared at me for a moment, then asked if I wanted to see her, but her tone wasn’t encouraging. The plan was for me to hand the baby to the Merritts right away. I even wished my own mother was there, but she wasn’t. Neither were you. ‘Holding her might not be the best idea,’ the nurse said.”

  “What did you say?”

&nb
sp; “I asked to hold her anyway. I needed to see her face, to cradle her close just once before I gave her up forever. The nurse came forward with what I saw as a disapproving look, and she held the baby out to me.” For a second, Shadow couldn’t go on. Reliving that precious moment when she’d taken her baby in her arms for the first time, felt the warmth of that sweet little body against hers. For what she thought, then, would be the last time.

  “I looked into her eyes. They were blue and not very clear, but she seemed to focus on me. Grey, her look said, Don’t. Don’t let me go.”

  “How could you,” he murmured, his voice choked.

  “That was when I named her. The name we’d chosen months ago. I knew then that I’d made the wrong choice about the Merritts.” Shadow cleared her throat. “The nurse told me she’d better take her, but I couldn’t let go. I laid my cheek, my tears, against the baby’s head. Ava’s little legs moved in the blanket. And, Oh Grey, I thought. Look who we’ve made. Together. Ava was all that was left of us. All that was good.”

  Grey reached for her hand. She could see tears in his eyes now.

  “The nurse was staring at me, crying, too. I guessed she already knew what I would say. By law I had twenty-four hours to rescind my decision. I hated to go back on my word, but giving birth, holding my baby, was so powerful, the most amazing thing ever. I couldn’t leave her, and a big part of the reason was you,” she said. “I still couldn’t bear to tell you about this child, but I couldn’t give up this part of you—of us, and the love we’d had.”

  Grey gently stroked her palm. He couldn’t seem to say a word, and that was all right because she needed to tell him the rest.

  “I decided that Ava and I would be a family. Somehow I would make it work. Caring for her, loving her, I knew, was the right thing to do.” She turned her hand in Grey’s, holding on at last to her baby’s father. “When the nurse left us, I kept looking at Ava, thinking I’m a mother.” That same sense of wonder filled her all over again, but this time she wasn’t alone. “Eventually, the nurse took her to the nursery while I talked with the Merritts. I hated to break their hearts, but I had to. She’s mine, I thought. But she wasn’t just mine, even then. She’s ours, Grey.”

  * * *

  WHEN SHE’D FINISHED, Grey just sat there. He wasn’t sure he could say anything, but at least his anger over Ava had subsided, softened by the memories she’d handed him in their child’s baby book and by her words about Ava’s birth. He looked down at a photo of her wearing the little pink cap on her head.

  “Maybe,” he finally said, his voice still husky, “we can work from here, from that. Together. For Ava. After I find the rustlers who keep hitting my place, once I get some concrete answer about Jared’s death...maybe we can have a second chance, Shadow.”

  “That’s a lot of ifs.” She pushed her glass of sparkling water aside. The ice cubes tinkled. His gaze caught hers, and held, in a way that showed how hurt he’d been by Jared’s death, by their broken relationship. Was he right, and was it possible that they could try again with ten years of heartache between them?

  “What if we hadn’t split up like that then?” he asked. “If Jared hadn’t gotten killed? You ever think of that? I know I do.”

  “Yes, I’ve thought of that.” Shadow looked down at the table. “But we did break up and he did die.”

  Grey shifted on his seat. He took another swallow of his beer. “I’ve never told you my side of things. I’d like to tell you now.”

  When she didn’t object, he began.

  “The day we split, I felt mad—and hurt. I went home and spent the rest of that afternoon prowling around the ranch house, changing from one mood to the other, silently vowing to never see you again, then wondering what I would do without you. Around the time night fell, I grabbed my keys from the kitchen counter and thanked my lucky stars that my dad had gone out for the evening. No one else was home. I meant to drive over to your place, talk things out and, I hoped, start over.” Grey hesitated. He couldn’t hold back his feelings as he always had before. “I loved you, Shadow. I loved everything about you—your hair, your eyes, your smile. I loved your strength and how you handled a home life with your folks that wasn’t exactly happy. You made the best of things. I loved how you could always make me laugh, especially at myself. I even loved our fights—and making up.”

  “That last argument was the worst by far,” she said. “There was no making up.”

  She wasn’t wrong. In their two years of dating, beginning to talk about marriage, even picking out baby names, he’d never seen her that angry or upset, her eyes blazing. Grey hadn’t known what to do.

  “I’d probably said all the wrong things earlier that day. But I didn’t understand why you seemed so determined to take our relationship—already perfect in my mind—to that next level. I wanted to convince you we should wait.”

  Surely, there must be some middle ground, he’d thought.

  “I hadn’t left my house yet that night when I heard a vehicle coming up the drive. I thought it was my dad. He’d tried, hours before, to talk me out of going into town, pleading with you for another chance.” Grey fiddled with the label on his beer bottle. “But the pickup was Jared’s. I’d seen it a hundred times—when we were in the same class at school, every time I picked you up or dropped you off at your parents’ farm. And I knew he and I were going to have it out. Right there.”

  “You shouldn’t have answered the door.”

  “Maybe so, but I pushed through onto the porch. He stopped near the front steps, and I saw Derek in the passenger seat looking mad and scared, and Calvin Stern in the truck bed. I could tell by the set of Jared’s mouth that he was loaded for bear.”

  Shadow was squeezing his hand. “What happened next?”

  “Jared slammed the door and stormed over to the bottom of the steps, glaring up at me. ‘You made my sister cry,’” he said. I told him it was none of his business, and then I saw the gun. A big pistol, flashing blue-black in the dark. I swallowed, hard. Derek and Calvin had joined Jared, flanking him. I held up both hands and told them to take it easy. But that only inflamed Jared.”

  Shadow laid a hand on his arm, as if to stop him from saying more, but Grey went on. He had to. “He took a step, the gun held in front of him, and my mouth went dry. Jared’s hand was shaking.”

  “Oh, Grey.”

  “‘You don’t want to do this,’ I said, but he charged at me, the other guys moving right along with him. I met them at the bottom of the steps, told them to get going. That they were trespassing. I tried to tell Jared that I loved you. But he said, ‘Shut your mouth! Don’t mention her again.’”

  Shadow looked horrified. He hated to put her through this, to make her revisit that night, but he couldn’t stop now.

  “Jared lunged. I blocked his arm but the gun was waving around. Someone was going to get hurt. I shoved Jared but he managed to stand his ground. He was bigger than me—and madder.”

  “What...did the others do?”

  “Derek joined the tussle, kept telling Jared to get back, that your dad would tan their hides. He said Jared had promised nothing would happen, something about just teaching me a lesson.” Grey freed his arm to take Shadow’s hand again. “In the confusion I lost track of Calvin, but he’s always claimed that he stepped back, scared.”

  Grey took a moment to try to settle his racing heart. For years he’d had nightmares about the shooting, and it was all coming back again. “I saw the muzzle of the gun pointed straight at my head. I don’t remember clearly what happened then. I think I grabbed for the barrel to shove it aside. So did Derek, and for a second or two, the three of us wrestled for control.”

  Shadow put her free hand over her mouth. “My God, Grey.”

  He hadn’t wanted to shock her. Yet after breaking his silence of ten years, he had to finish. “Then the damned gun
went off.”

  * * *

  SHADOW GLANCED DOWN at the open baby album showing a picture of Ava at her second birthday party with cake all over her face. She and Grey still held hands, and his warmth, his strength—emotional as well as physical—flowed from his skin to hers. She thought she could feel the steady beat of his pulse.

  “Grey, I knew...but I guess I didn’t know. Not from you.”

  “We were still kids then, Shadow. My dad didn’t want to hear us talk about marriage when I wasn’t even into my second year at college. He’d watched his relationship with my mom die a slow, hard death—and they’d gotten married as adults. He saw what that did to our family, to me and Olivia.” He shook his head. “I can’t blame him for that. Or even my mom, though we still don’t get along. But there we were, you and I, picking out baby names. When you asked that day if we could elope before the end of summer, show everyone how wrong they were about us...”

  Their fight had blown everything sky high. Yes, they were young, she’d tried to tell him, but they loved each other. They could make it. Grey would no longer feel torn between his parents, and Shadow could get away from her dad. But the argument had destroyed any hope of marriage. “You told me maybe your father was right.”

  Grey lifted his brows. “I changed my mind as soon as I cooled off. If I could have talked to you again that night, if Jared hadn’t brought that gun...”

  “Yet he did,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry he did. Sorry for everything that’s happened since.” Her tears flowed freely now. “Grey.”

  His voice came out soft and low. “Shadow.” He leaned closer, his gaze lingering on her mouth for a moment. He gently squeezed her fingers. And then, before she could guess what he meant to do, and as if he knew she wouldn’t say no, he kissed her.

  It was light and quick with the faintest brush of his lips against hers, but it sent a curl of flame through her anyway, made more intense by the exchange of tragic memories he’d shared about Jared, the heartfelt ones she’d offered about Ava. When she pulled back, she was shaking.