The Trouble With Cowboys (24 page)

She suddenly knew the right thing to do. It hit her with a certainty she’d never felt before. “I’m so sorry, John. I can’t.”

His eyes went flat, his lips parted. She read the surprise on his face and felt like the slime at the bottom of a barrel. He’d expected them to become engaged tonight. She didn’t deserve his love, his devotion.

“You’re a wonderful man, truly. And you deserve—”

“It’s Taylor, isn’t it?” His lips pressed together.

“No, it’s not.” She was relieved she could say that honestly. Maybe Dylan had helped her see what their relationship lacked, but it could never be Dylan. Not now.

She laid her hand on his. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, John. I care for you a great deal, but I . . . I realize now that we don’t have what it takes to last forever. And you deserve that. You deserve a woman who loves you like that.”

He looked down at the ring, awkwardly pocketed it, breaking their connection. “Well. I don’t know what to say.”

He didn’t have to say anything. It was all written on his face.

“I’m so sorry.”

He cleared his throat and poked his glasses into place.

If she’d thought telling him about the kiss was going to be hard . . .

When he stood to leave a long moment later, she breathed a deep sigh. They hugged uneasily, then she watched him slip into his shiny blue Buick.

As he pulled down her drive, she remembered her mom, remembered the uncertainty, the instability, and hoped she wasn’t holding out for the impossible.

Dear Certain,

    
Swallow your pride. Like spinach, it won’t taste so great, but it’s good for you.

28

A
nnie put her truck in gear and pulled down the drive, something stirring in her belly at the thought of time alone with Dylan. In the week since the breakup, word had circulated through town. Their greeting at church had been stilted, and she hadn’t missed all the glances when she’d passed John’s pew and sat with Shay and Travis instead.

She hoped Dylan wouldn’t broach the subject. Hoped her sudden availability wouldn’t make their time together even more challenging.

She sighed as she turned out of her drive. Why was it so hard to find Mr. Right? John was reliable and ready to settle down, but she didn’t love him. Dylan stirred her mind and body, but he was like a
wispy cloud that disappeared as soon as you moved your fingers through it.

Despite all that, despite his relationship to Luke, she shook with anticipation at the thought of being together.
This isn’t good, God. I know he’s bad for me, impossible even, so why do I feel this way?

She brushed her damp hair off her face, making a decision. She had to cut back on the time she spent with him. She’d just have to handle the column on her own. She’d tell him tonight.

But she couldn’t turn her back on Braveheart. The horse was finally coming along, and Annie felt Dylan would be able to ride him eventually. Maybe even soon. It would be healthy for Braveheart to have a purpose.

And then that was it. No more time with Dylan. No more fighting the attraction, no more feeling guilty for the secret she kept.

Her cell phone rang and the name on the caller ID made her tense.

“Midge, hello, how are you?”

“Hi, Annie. I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”

“I’m just driving. I haven’t heard from you in a few weeks. How are things in Bozeman?”

“Well . . . that’s why I’m calling.”

A weight settled in Annie’s midsection at Midge’s cautious tone.

“I’m afraid we’ve had more negative feedback on your answers, Annie. Quite a bit, actually. It pains me to say this—you’re a terrific writer and such a reliable worker, but . . . your probation period is almost up, and my boss asked me to let you go. I’m so sorry.”

Annie blinked slowly. “Let me go? But my recent answers were clearly right, don’t you think?”

“Honestly, the solutions were so obvious, they were a little, well, boring. Honey, I just don’t think a lovelorn column is your thing.”

Dylan
. Annie squeezed the bridge of her nose. Why had she let him convince her to use the obvious letters? Why hadn’t she trusted her own common sense rather than depend on his supposed expertise?

“Give me another chance, Midge. I was getting some—bad advice.”

“I’m sorry, honey. My boss has already approached that columnist in Wyoming about taking your place.”

“Another column, then . . . something related to my area of expertise. I’ll come up with some ideas and send a—”

“I’m really sorry, Annie.” Midge sounded miserable.

Annie knew she needed to let the woman off the hook. She drew a deep breath, sucking in courage, and swallowed her pride. “I understand. I’m sorry I let you down, Midge.”

When Annie closed her phone, her hands were shaking. She’d never been fired—what an ugly word. Not from the Dairy Freeze, not from the ranch jobs . . . She felt like a failure. She wondered if Sierra felt this way each time she was fired.

And now she’d ruined her reputation at the paper. How could she hope they’d hire Sierra after graduation when she’d let them down so badly?

She pounded her fist on the steering wheel. Dylan. She’d known those answers weren’t right. She should’ve trusted her instincts, but she’d believed Mr. Suave. Had trusted that if he could make half the county fall in love with him, he must know what he was doing.

Ha! She would’ve been better off using the insight she’d gleaned from romance novels.

But as much as she’d like to blame it all on Dylan, she couldn’t. She was the one who’d handed him the reins. She was the one
who’d written the answers. Ultimately it was her name on the column.

She wondered if everyone in Moose Creek knew how wrong her answers were. If they thought she was dumb as a doorknob when it came to real love. Maybe she was.

Enough of your pride, Annie, you’ve got bigger fish to fry
.

She’d lost her part-time job. She’d have to find something, and soon. Sierra would have her hands full with five classes—provided she’d signed up for them yesterday as Annie had told her to do.

Dylan buttoned his white shirt and ran his hands through his freshly washed hair. Annie was coming. Luke had gone for a haircut and supper at the Tin Roof, so it would just be the two of them tonight.

His heart gave a couple hard thumps, and he told himself it was on Braveheart’s behalf. He was just excited for his buddy’s progress.

Despite their success, being with her had become awkward, and tonight was bound to be worse because everything had changed. His first clue was when Annie had sat with Shay at church instead of Oakley. Then he’d heard from Brenda Peterson that Oakley had proposed and Annie had turned him down. She was apparently free as a wild mustang.

That only made her a bigger threat to his sanity. But even after that kiss—especially after that kiss—he wasn’t signing away his heart. He’d decided that long before he’d ever met Annie.

Besides, she wasn’t interested in taking things to the next level anyway. Didn’t she want to pretend the kiss had never even happened?

That should make things nice and simple. But if that were the case, why had he donned his favorite shirt, taken the extra time to shave for the second time that day?

He heard a car coming down the drive and looked out the window to see Annie’s old truck approaching, raising a cloud of dust behind it. Despite his previous warnings, anticipation filled his chest.

She was exiting the truck as he ambled down the porch steps. “Afternoon, Annie.”

“Ready to get started?”

“Always.” He flashed his best smile and got no response. But he was used to that with Annie.

“We’re going to teach him to find water,” Annie said. “So can you make sure the waterer is filled?”

“Sure thing.”

He pulled the hose over to the metal tub in the pasture, remembering the last time he’d held the hose. His lips lifted in a bittersweet smile as he recalled chasing Annie around the truck, recalled the water dripping off her nose, recalled the way her eyes had gone from laughing to wanting in the space of a few heartbeats. His heart twisted.

He dropped the nozzle and found Annie in the barn, talking to Braveheart as she attached the lead to the bridle.

She handed him the lead. “Let’s take him out to the turnout point.”

Dylan followed her directions, wondering what was wrong. Annie was all business, but wasn’t that typical since the kiss? And judging by his dangerous thoughts moments ago, maybe that was for the best.

They reached the turnout point.

“Always stop here. It lets him know where Point A is. Point B will be the waterer. Go ahead and lead him toward it.”

“Walk,” he said.

Annie continued talking quietly. “You’ll need to do this a few times a day. Be consistent, and he’ll be finding water on his own in a couple of months. Then you can leave him in the pasture even when it’s hot.”

Dylan stopped when they reached the waterer.

Annie leaned down and tapped the metal tub a few times, then swished the water with her hand.

Braveheart’s ears turned, and he nickered.

“He doesn’t have to drink but be sure you tap the sides and swish the water each time.”

They led him back to the turnout point.

“Let’s try it again.”

After working with Braveheart awhile, they led him back to his stall and removed his bridle. Dylan could tell Annie had something on her mind, but it wasn’t his business. Maybe she was upset about her breakup with Oakley. Or maybe Sierra was giving her fits again.

He hung the lead and pulled his hat lower as they left the barn. The sun had dropped behind the mountains, taking the hottest part of the day with it. The air smelled of sweet hay and grass.

“I’ll get some coffee on and meet you on the porch,” he said.

“Wait, Dylan.”

He faced Annie. She looked at her boots, then lifted her chin and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“I won’t be needing your help with the column anymore.”

There was pride in her posture, but something else in her eyes. He wondered if the tension between them had become too much. Something tugged in his gut.

“Why’s that?” He’d managed a casual tone, though sudden thoughts of no more time with Annie left his throat dry and made his lungs feel hot and heavy.

She gave a brittle laugh and a little shrug. “I kinda got fired.”

Anger brewed fast as a summer storm. “What?”

“Seems my answers weren’t what the readers were looking for. The complaints haven’t stopped.”

“That doesn’t mean she has to fire you. She should give you more time.”

The corner of Annie’s lip tucked in. “I think it’s best for everyone if I move out of the love advice business. Anyway, it’ll be fine. I’ll find another job.”

His anger drained away, replaced by something else. This was all his fault. She’d used his answers, after all. Gone against her own instincts most of the time.

He tugged his hat lower, all the better to hide. He’d let her believe he was Mr. Love. He should’ve told her the truth instead of letting his foolish pride have its way. She’d helped him with his blind horse, and in return, he’d gotten her fired.

“This is my fault.”

Her brows twitched. “No, Dylan. It’s not.”

“It is too, Annie. You don’t understand.” He walked toward her truck, ducking his head. He felt like a real jerk. Some expert.

When he turned, she was there behind him.