Home to the Cowboy. Amanda Renee

Home to the Cowboy - Amanda Renee


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convertible or sports car type.” He tapped on the side window. “Hey, Rickster. It’s been a long time.”

      Tess released herself from his grasp. “Listen, I’m really sorry about your dad. How is your mom doing?”

      “Better than she was.” Cole jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “It was a shock to everyone and you knew my dad—stubborn as all get-out. At the first sign of chest pains he should have gone to the hospital, but he ignored it and thought a good night’s sleep would cure everything.”

      “I should have come sooner.” Tess braved meeting his gaze.

      “Yep, you should have.” Cole pursed his lips, moving away from her. “Everyone thought you’d come to the funeral, especially me. But you’re here now, so maybe we can talk about what happened in Vegas.”

      “What did my mother do, tell the entire town Tim married that floozy?” Tess shook her head in disgust. She prided herself on being a private person, not the subject du jour at the Magpie.

      “I meant when you ran out on me two years ago.” Cole removed his hat so she clearly saw his face. “Not how your boyfriend cheated on you.”

      “Fiancé—we were engaged, and I didn’t run out on you. I’m surprised you noticed, considering your hands were pretty full.”

      “Ouch!” Cole placed his hand over his heart in a mock attempt to appear wounded. “If I meant that much, you wouldn’t have hightailed it back to the big city at the first sign of a couple of rodeo honeys. Jealousy never did look good on you.”

      If it were only that simple.

      Cole was known for his penchant for the female persuasion, going through women like he changed underwear. If he wore any. Despite his string of trophy girls, it hadn’t stopped Tess from thinking they’d had a chance at a meaningful and monogamous relationship.

      The main reason she’d flown out to Vegas that week was to tell him how much he meant to her. The signs they were moving forward were there, or so she thought. In the end, Tess realized it was more than the buckle bunnies. It was the reality that neither one of them was willing to uproot themselves for the other. His groupies merely opened her eyes a bit wider.

      “Let’s agree to disagree and leave Vegas in the past.”

      Cole leaned against his truck and looked at her. “What happened to you?”

      “What?” Tess glanced across the street toward the Curl Up and Dye Salon. A facial and a haircut were in order before the day was through. “I’m fine, Cole.”

      “I fully expected ten minutes of banter, five at the very least. Did New York suck out your soul? The Tess I knew wouldn’t give up so easily.”

      “I’m sure I don’t understand what you mean.” She didn’t have to look up at him to know he was still scrutinizing her.

      “Since we’re getting things out in the open, yes I heard about your ex-fiancé, and if you don’t mind me saying, you’re better off without him.”

      “I do mind because it’s none of your business, or anyone else’s for that matter.”

      “Come on, Tess, this is Ramblewood. Everyone’s in everybody else’s business.”

      So much for reassurance that she’d survive the next few weeks with her dignity intact. Small-town gossip was something she’d learned to live without when she moved to New York. In a city that big, it was easy to become another face in the crowd. Everyone was so wrapped up in their own lives they didn’t care what was going on in yours.

      “I miss New York already.” Tess slid into the ice-blue rental and started the engine. “Again, Cole, I’m really sorry. Your dad was an incredible man. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

      “I guarantee it.” Cole stood firm at the window. “But I hope, when I do, you’ll have found some of that old feistiness we love.”

      Tess saw an impish glint in his bourbon-colored eyes before he stepped aside. It wouldn’t take much persuading to get caught up in them for a lifetime. Had he always looked this good?

      “I, uh—I need to get going.” Shaking her head of the salacious thoughts that churned in her mind, she scrambled for an escape. “It was a long flight and I’m anxious to unwind a bit.”

      “Your mom’s out at my place.” Cole slapped his hand down on the hood of the Ford. “You know you’re always welcome there and we have a few things to catch up on.”

      He tipped his hat, nodded and turned to walk into the Magpie. Tess peered over the top of her Ray-Bans. No man could possibly compete with the way Cole’s jeans fit across his backside.

      With the center of town and Cole behind her, Tess pulled into her parents’ gravel driveway. A wisteria-covered arbor stood at the entrance of the slate walk leading to the two-story cream-colored farmhouse. The purple blooms were breathtaking in the spring, but this time of year, the vines had a more mysterious charm, which her mother enhanced with artificial Halloween cobwebs and festive scarecrows.

      Spanish moss danced in the breeze as it swung from the gnarled boughs of the majestic live oak in the front yard. Throughout the sweltering Texas summers, the tree shaded the impeccable front yard. Tess never figured out how her mother found the energy to run the luncheonette and still accomplish the countless gardening projects she did every year.

      Ricky caterwauled once again.

      “Okay, little guy.” She hauled the carrier out of the car along with the rest of her luggage. “Let’s get you inside.”

      Tess climbed the pumpkin-lined porch stairs, reaching into her handbag for the key she’d carried since the day she left for college. She knew she should have taken it off her key ring years ago, but there was comfort in realizing she could always go home again. Stopping short of trying the lock, Tess turned the knob and the door opened.

      Four dead bolts on Tess’s New York apartment door gave her a sense of security. Her parents, on the other hand, had never locked a door in their lives.

      The spacious living room and kitchen combination always reminded Tess of The Waltons. The stairs to the left displayed old-fashioned milk bottles on each step. When dairies began to phase out glass bottles in favor of wax cartons and plastic jugs, Maggie had started saving every one she found.

      Tess ascended the old staircase, relishing the familiar squeaks and groans of the wood. Stark white linen walls replaced the tiny pale wild-rose print wallpaper in her former bedroom. A lone oil painting of yellow roses hung on the wall opposite the door. A rough, unstained pine bed now stood where her four-poster once had. Her mother had changed the room shortly after she went to college, but Tess still missed the one place of comfort she’d always retreated to when she was younger. That room was probably the only thing that had changed in this town during the past thirteen years.

      She opened the wire door of the carrier. Ricky hesitated and then strolled out, arching his back and stretching his legs one by one.

      “I know how you feel, little man.” The cat looked up at Tess and let out a soft meow. He padded over, rubbed alongside her leg and purred loudly. “I hear your motor running.”

      She picked up her favorite male companion and gave him a gentle squeeze before setting him on the bed. Leaning beside the window, Tess looked out across the yard, which was enclosed by a picket fence. As if it were yesterday, she remembered her father pushing her on the old tire swing that still hung from the hickory tree.

      The frenzied way her mother chased her prized Silkie chickens around the coop provided comic relief for the neighbors within earshot. The coop remained, but the chickens were long gone.

      Tess inhaled sharply when the image of Tim’s face interrupted her trip down memory lane. She’d come here to forget the two-timing rat of a man. Sorting through the entire secretary elopement situation wasn’t easy. Tim had his flaws like everyone else, but running off to marry Rachel


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