A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding Read online

  Even though Cora was on her way, Shane couldn’t take this any more. “You okay, Micah?”

  Micah shrugged, dumping out the buckets where he was supposed to and lining them up exactly where they went. It was a precise kind of focus Shane hadn’t seen from him before. The kid did his chores right, but there was a careless, kid-ness to the way he breezed through them.

  Until today.

  “You know, you can talk to me about . . . things.”

  Micah stopped what he was doing and looked at him then, his expression the same blankness from this morning. “What things?”

  “Any things. Questions about the ranch. If you want to unload about something that’s bothering you.” Shane hesitated. Hell, in for a penny. “If you want to talk about this morning.”

  Micah stood there looking like an adult, like a man. A careful man, doing a lot to hide everything behind a wall of strength and got this handled. It was eerie. And not just because Micah had seemed to grow three feet before his eyes, but because Shane felt such a . . . kinship with all that. He understood it in his bones. He was it.

  “What about this morning?” Micah said, and it gave Shane a little chill, the way Micah could employ this cold, emotionless mask.

  But Shane had started this, and he wasn’t a man to start things without finishing them. “You know, I don’t like the guy my mom’s . . .” Okay, it seemed a little off to bring marrying into this conversation. Shane recalculated. “. . . with. Haven’t since the beginning. I’m trying to get over it, but, you know, I know what it’s like to watch your mom. . . . I just, I know this might be strange for you.” And boy was Shane bungling it. “I get it.”

  “No, you don’t,” Micah said, so sure and certain, before he strode out the exit of the stables, toward where Molly and Cora were approaching.

  Shane watched him go. Surprised, baffled, and something else. Something that surprised him just as much as Micah’s walking away.

  That little brush-off had hurt. Personally. Not just a Cora will be disappointed kind of hurt either, and different from brush-off hurts from his siblings. He knew his siblings loved him, even when they were pissed and directed it at him. They had to love him. They were bound to him by blood and this ranch and life.

  Micah was bound to him by nothing. Micah could think Boone was the coolest till the day Shane died. Micah could spend his whole life wishing his mom had wanted someone else.

  “But she doesn’t,” Shane muttered to himself, readjusting his hat on his head. Plenty of women appreciated a hardworking, cautious man.

  Not Mattie.

  Not Mom.

  Not Molly.

  It was a stupid line of thought. He had nothing to do with who Molly or Mom had or would marry, and Mattie . . . Well, they’d been in high school. It wasn’t at all comparable. There was no pattern.

  Cora entered the stables, wrinkling her nose, presumably at the smell. She was still a city girl at heart, but he thought it was kind of cute on her. Molly and Micah stood outside, talking something over.

  “So, I just saw your mom and Ben making out.”

  “Oh, God, why would you say that to me?” Shane asked, disgusted down to his soul.

  Cora laughed, and most of the weirdness with Micah faded away at the sound. They’d figure Micah out. Together. With time.

  “Poor Molly had to witness it. There were tongues.”

  “Stop it. I mean it.”

  “I think he touched her ass,” Cora continued, eyes sparkling with humor. Each horrible thing she said brought her closer to him though.

  “Why are you being mean? What have I ever done to you?”

  She laughed, low and husky, and he sort of didn’t care what other words might come out of her mouth, because she was close, and he could smell her perfume and soil. Every worry or concern was obliterated by it.

  “Because after listening to Lou telling me stories of how much of a goody-two-shoes you’ve always been, I’m all too tempted to debauch you, but, you know, people, so I can’t. So I have to be mean and boner-killing instead.”

  “Boner . . . killing. Wow.” He shook his head, more than a little enraptured by the happily mischievous tilt to her mouth. He lowered his voice, and his mouth so it was close to hers. “Lou doesn’t know everything about me.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Really. But you’ll have to wait until Thursday to find out.” Instead of kissing her on the mouth like he wanted to, he simply pressed a quick peck to her forehead and stepped around her. “Have to go check on the branding. See you later,” he offered, not daring to look back.

  “Now who’s mean?” she called after him.

  He chuckled as he stepped out into the late afternoon sun. For a brief second, he thought Micah scowled at him, but it was gone in a blink, his face back to blank as could be.

  Shane must have imagined it. His insecure imagination playing tricks on him.

  Things were fine. Things would be fine.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cora practically bounced as she watched Micah shove a random conglomeration of crap into his backpack. She’d already warned him he was going to have to carry it, since Sam and Hayley would be carrying all the supplies they’d need to camp, but Micah didn’t listen.

  She was having a hard time focusing on making him listen because Shane would be here to pick her up in two hours. A date. A real date. It felt like she hadn’t had something just for her in ages upon ages.

  She was going to have sex. Good sex if those few and far between kisses were anything to go by. That had been ages and ages too.

  She didn’t have to feel guilty about it, because Micah would be off doing something fun for him.

  Micah rocked back onto his heels from a crouched position that looked nothing but uncomfortable to Cora, studying her in that quiet, thoughtful way of his. He’d been doing it since he was two, and, a decade later, Cora still couldn’t figure out what it meant. What he might be thinking. Good, bad, or in between.

  She’d talked to Dr. Grove about it and been assured it was normal. Kids needed their interior space to work through hard things too.

  “You could come with,” he offered carefully.

  Cora tried not to grimace at the thought of sleeping in a tent. With bugs. And animals creepy crawling around at night. She shuddered.

  Micah’s expression softened a hint. “You’re such a baby.”

  “A happy, warm, comfy bed-sleeping baby,” Cora agreed.

  His mouth quirked at that as he zipped up his backpack.

  “Did you pack your toothbrush?”

  “Mom, there’s no running water. Sam and Hayley have those toothbrush wipe things.”

  “Right.” Camping really was beyond her, but she was glad Micah liked it, and not just because it meant she got a date with a hot guy out of the deal. With sex. Actual alone-in-her-house sex.

  Micah got some time with his interior thoughts. Which was supposed to be good. She wished it felt good not knowing what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

  “There isn’t anything you want to talk to me about before Sam and Hayley get here?”

  “No.”

  Cora didn’t know whether to let that be or press, and it was the constant fight in this motherhood thing. Always trying to figure out the right lines to draw. But whether Micah wanted to talk to her or not, it wasn’t as if Shane was just a date or just some sex. This wasn’t a date to have some fun or scratch an itch. It was the kind of date you went on to try to build something.

  And half of her foundation was Micah, which meant making sure his foundation was solid. “I am . . . I’m . . .” Interior thoughts and space. She blew out a breath. “Shane and I are going to go out on a date.”

  Micah didn’t look at her. “Okay.”

  “I thought you should know.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, you’ll be telling me when you’re going on dates whether you like it or not, and you like Shane, so I thought you’d be happy. Or at least oka
y. Because, you know, he might come over sometimes and it might be . . . Well, it’d be fun, the three of us. Wouldn’t it?”

  Micah adjusted his backpack, still not looking at her. “I think I hear Sam’s Jeep,” was all he said before heading toward the door.

  “Micah.” Cora followed him, not sure what was twisting inside of her. Worry. Fear. Irritation. “You do like Shane.”

  “Yeah. He’s fine. It’s fine. Whatever. Can I go now?”

  Cora placed her hands on her son’s ever-growing shoulders. He’d be taller than her in no time. A man in no time. “Baby, be straight with me. We promised each other that.”

  “I hate it,” Micah spat, so acidly that Cora took a step back, shocked to her core.

  “But—”

  “It’s a dumb idea, and I don’t want you kissing him or going out with him or any of it!” He said it so vehemently, so sure.

  “But you like him,” Cora replied weakly. Where on earth had that come from? “You like all of them.” Which reminded her she was the adult in this situation. She had to be strong, not weak. “Shane’s a good man, and I like him a lot. And he likes me, and you. He’s the kind of guy . . .” Ah, hell, she couldn’t start talking about relationships and foundations and futures with a twelve-year-old, but she needed to explain it all somehow. She reached for him. “Baby—”

  “You’ll tell him,” Micah exploded, backing away from her, tears shining in his eyes. “About everything that happened with Dad. You’ll tell him and everyone will know and they’ll treat us different. It’ll be all pity and weird looks and . . . I hate it. Everyone at Mile High does that. You’re going to ruin everything at the ranch, and it’s the only place I have.”

  Cora could only stare. She hadn’t expected an outburst of emotion, but more . . . She hadn’t expected this. Micah to feel exactly the way she felt—that on the Tyler ranch she could just be her. Not Lilly’s messed up sister or an abuse survivor, but Cora Preston.

  “I’m not going to tell him,” she whispered.

  Micah straightened at that. “What do you mean?” he asked, blinking furiously so that none of those tears fell. She had to keep her own eyes as wide as possible to keep her tears from falling.

  “I’m not going to tell him or anyone all of that,” Cora said, more firmly this time. “I don’t . . . I don’t want any of that pity either. So, we just won’t talk about it with them. That’s okay. We don’t have to tell everyone we meet about our past.”

  “Really?” Micah’s eyebrows drew together, and he bit his thumbnail, an old anxiety habit he didn’t do often anymore. “But isn’t that lying?”

  “No. It’s . . . It’s keeping some things private. That’s okay.”

  Micah studied her. “You’re really not going to tell him?”

  “Really.” She’d already decided she couldn’t, and now she had even more reason not to. Micah didn’t want her to. So, it wasn’t even selfish anymore. She was doing it for her kid. It was the right thing to do. For both of them.

  The knock on the door caught them off guard, eliciting a flinch from both.

  “You still want to go?” Cora asked, placing her hand on the knob. “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to go.”

  “Because if you want to talk—”

  Micah tugged on the door. “I want to go.”

  Cora let go of the door so Micah could open it. She forced herself to smile at Sam and Hayley. “Hey, guys.”

  “Hey,” Hayley greeted cheerfully. “Our little camper ready?”

  Micah rolled his eyes, likely at the word little. “Did you bring hot dogs?”

  “And marshmallows,” Sam assured. “We’ll be out of cell range, but I’ll have the Mile High walkie on me.”

  Cora smiled at Sam, grateful for his assurances. “Thanks.”

  “You could come with?” Hayley offered with a grin.

  “Yeah, hard pass,” Cora returned. She gave Micah a squeeze before he could escape. “You guys have fun.”

  “We’ll be back by four tomorrow. Keep him at Mile High till you pick him up.”

  Cora nodded at the plan. “Thanks, guys.”

  Sam and Hayley turned toward the Jeep, and Micah followed, but he looked back at her over his shoulder, gripping his backpack strap. He retraced his steps, standing at the bottom of the stoop looking up at Cora.

  “You really won’t tell him everything?” Micah insisted.

  Cora stepped down so she could pull him into a hug. “I really won’t,” she assured, kissing his temple. “Be good and careful.”

  He nodded and pulled away, then bounded off toward Sam and Hayley, finally a little hint of happiness and enjoyment in him.

  Cora waved and smiled as Sam drove his Jeep away. She tried to get over the weird, sick feeling in her gut as she took a step inside. Micah was safe and having fun. She was going to have her own kind of fun. Nothing had changed except she had even more reason to stay the course she’d already decided on.

  It was okay. She was doing the right thing. For her. For Micah. Hell, even for Shane. Because they could build a foundation on the present instead of on some horrible past. It made sense.

  All the sense in the world.

  * * *

  Shane pulled his car up to the address Cora had texted him. She had a pretty green house in the old mining housing section of town, a narrow structure way too close to her neighbor, at least in Shane’s estimation.

  Still, he supposed the house suited her, though she’d clearly forgotten to water the pot of colorful blooms on her porch that were wilting and browning at the edges. He stepped out of his truck and ignored the worming thing in his gut.

  Nerves were silly. Cora was Cora. He wasn’t a teenager or even a man unsure of his feelings or hers. Truth of the matter was, they’d had plenty of buildup and assurances before they’d gotten to this point.

  And kisses. The kind that kept a man up at night, and distracted in the middle of the day, and a little bit bow-legged in the morning and—

  “Okay, enough of that,” he muttered to himself, stepping onto the first stair.

  “Stay,” a voice called out from across the yard.

  He glanced over at where a woman was standing on her porch, clearly having yelled the “stay” command to her German shepherd sitting in the middle of the yard between the houses.

  Yes, the neighbors were definitely too close.

  “Ma’am,” Shane offered when the woman stared suspiciously at him, tipping his hat politely. Some of that suspicion on her face relaxed into something closer to shock.

  A man stepped out onto the porch with her, and they exchanged muttered words, gesturing toward him as he took the rest of the steps up to Cora’s door. When he snuck a glance their way as he lifted his hand to knock, they were both just standing there. Staring.

  “Damn neighbors,” Shane muttered.

  The door swung open, and Shane forgot about neighbors, close or otherwise.

  She made his heart kick on a good day, but this was something else altogether. Skin, for starters. Miles of it, creamy pale, a delicacy he wanted to spend the rest of the day tasting. Her hair was down, some riot of golden waves around her shoulders, and subtle touches of makeup that suddenly made a man have impure thoughts. As if he needed any help in that department.

  “Hi,” she offered, bright pink lips curving into a smile made for hot nights and rainy days. “Am I overdressed?” she asked, swinging her hips slightly so the flowy dark green fabric fluttered around her thighs.

  He tried to bring his gaze back up to her face and failed. “No, you’ll do just fine.”

  “You seem a little distracted, Shane.”

  When he finally managed to tear his gaze from her legs, he found her grinning.

  “You better not invite me inside, or I might just show you why.”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, making a considering sound, and, if not for the yip of that damn neighbor’s dog, Shane might have bent down and taken some o
f what he wanted in a kiss.

  “Your neighbors are watching,” he offered instead.

  “Oh.” She glanced across the way, then waved at the couple still on the porch before pulling Shane firmly inside. She closed the door, leaning against it. He told himself to look around, to compliment her on her house or something, but all he could do was look at her.

  “If I kiss you, it’s only going to mess up your makeup.”

  “I could probably fix it,” Cora returned. “If necessary.”

  How could there be any other option but to step toward her, cage her against that front door, lean his mouth to hers and—

  A loud knock startled them both.

  On a heavy sigh, Cora rolled her eyes. “Just give me one second, okay?”

  “Uh, sure,” Shane complied, taking a few steps back, hoping the raging erection he was currently sporting wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.

  Cora opened the door. The woman from the porch stood on the other side, holding a bowl. She pushed it toward Cora.

  “Hi, Cora. Could I borrow a cup of sugar?” the woman asked, smiling and batting her eyelashes and clearly checking Shane out, not paying attention to whatever Cora’s answer would be.

  “You don’t bake, Tori,” Cora replied, forcing the bowl back at the woman. “And that’s a bowl, not a measuring cup.” She gestured back toward Shane. “Tori, this is Shane. Shane, this is Tori. She’s leaving now,” Cora said firmly, giving the woman a little push.

  “Is he a real cowboy?” Shane heard the woman ask in a low voice, as Cora nudged her firmly out the door.

  “I’ll tell you all about it later,” Cora said, then closed the door on Tori.

  “Nosy neighbors,” Shane offered, shoving his hands in his pockets. Because if he didn’t lock them in, he’d reach out and touch her. Kiss her like he’d been planning to, and then it would take the kind of restraint he’d really rather not employ to usher her out the door and into his truck so they could go into Benson for dinner.

  It was the first time in years he wished he had his own place, and not just because of his wounded pride that he’d lost that opportunity.

  “Nosy friends, more like,” Cora replied. “Tori’s actually marrying my . . . Well, my sister’s brother-in-law, I guess he’d be. They both work at Mile High with Lilly and—” She waved a hand. “Anyway. Where were we?”