Page 19 of The Cowboy's Country Charm

“You’re a politician. And a trial lawyer. You’re a great actor.”

“Touché.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re taking a big risk, and I guess I don’t like that you’re going so far away, where I can’t protect you.”

“If I need you, I’ll call.” But even if she needed his help, she wouldn’t call him. She needed to prove to him, and herself, that she could be successful on her own, for her own sanity, or there would be no end to his interference.

“Deal. I best get going. Your mother will be stopping by and… well, you know.” He fished his car keys out of his pocket, along with a wad of money. He put the wad on the counter.

“What is that? I don’t need money, Dad.” Not entirely the truth, but he didn’t need to know that. She reached to give the wad back to him, but he stayed her hand. His grip was firm.

“Take it. A housewarming gift. Buy something you want with it.”

She sighed. There was no winning an argument with her father. He kissed her cheek again. “Love you, kitten,” he said as he walked out the door.

Kristy slid onto the counter stool. She was always worn out after being in her father’s presence, and it was worse today because she was so tired. And to think the man had called Marcia and suggested Marcia not give her the Gillette job. Part of her was angry. Part of her was just exhausted from the seemingly endless battle for some independence.

Having visited Marcia in the hospital, where the woman had said over and over what a blessing it was that Kristy was handling Gillette, it was clear Marcia had no intention of listening to him, thankfully. Her boss had said more than once how much she needed Kristy to lead the gala project and how much she was counting on Kristy and Ariel. And how miserable she felt being laid up for so many weeks.

Marcia said she intended to follow the doctor’s directions, which was so not Marcia. Clearly the heart attack had scared her. The doctor had declared the operation a success but that it would be many weeks before Marcia was back in the saddle.

Kristy washed the coffee cup and packed it with the other last-minute items, hoping to take her mind off her father’s visit. She reached for the wad of bills on the counter and fanned them. At least she had more than enough money to tip the movers and pay for dinners on the other end.

The thought of Rusty brought a smile to her face. Knowing he was at the other end, waiting to help, gave her more confidence than he could ever know. Silly as it was, there was something about the guy that made her feel she could do things, anything, if he was around. Sort of like having a guardian angel.

And then, of course, he was easy on the eyes. Too easy. There was no denying, at least to herself, that she was attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? But she’d vowed to get the business on firm ground before she succumbed to any man’s charms, and she intended to keep that promise.

As she loaded a box with her last-minute things from the kitchen, the intercom buzzer sounded. Kristy pushed the button, and her mother’s voice crackled over the static-filled speaker. Kristy buzzed her in.

“I’m just sorry you’re moving so far away.” Her mother stood surveying the chaos.

Sylvia Winslow, always stylish, was dressed for clients. She wore a classic uniform of heels, a light-gray short-sleeved dress, and black-and-white costume jewelry. She wouldn’t be helping to load the van in that outfit, not that Kristy expected such help. That was why she’d hired professional movers, at least on this end, and at considerable expense.

Her mother sat down on the only seat not covered with items, the counter stool.

“You’re one of the few people who have supported me in this, Mom, so don’t change now. I need all the support I can get.” She had to hold at bay all the doubts crowding her mind. Doubts about her ability to get clients, to survive, to thrive.

“I do support you. But it is four hours away. That’s a very long drive, Kristy.”

“And I feel bad about that. You know I do. But this is a huge opportunity. And now, more than ever, Marcia needs me and Ariel.”

“I hope she was serious about giving you a potential cut of the business. Your father…”

“I know what he thinks. But I believe her. She’s never seriously mentioned it before. And it’s not a big cut. Just ten percent, but it’s a start.”

“Well, with this health scare, she’d be a fool not to do right by you. “

“And this way I can be the boss of my own life.”

Her mother stood up and faced her. “You mean without your interfering father. I knew he’d push you away. Just like he pushed me away.”

Her parents had divorced when she was twelve. For much the same reasons she had broken it off with Dean. Dean had a lot—too much—in common with her father, which she hadn’t realized until she was out of the relationship.

“Daddy isn’t the main reason, Mom. I really do need to go out there and try. Like you did.” And put Dean in the rearview mirror. Too much in Cheyenne reminded her of her time with Dean, and too many mutual acquaintances made it difficult to avoid him. He seemed to be everywhere. And always trying to persuade her to give him another chance. “You’ve been a good role model for me.”

After the divorce, her mother had gone into interior design and started her own business, and while it had taken some time, she’d parlayed it into a decent enterprise while raising Kristy.

Her mother beamed. “Thank you for saying so.” But a frown quickly found its place on her mother’s brow. “You know, Aunt Beth blames you for taking Ariel away. She tells me that several times a day.”

“I’m sorry about that. But Ariel is a creative genius when it comes to decorating. You know that. It’s why you used her for some projects. And why Marcia jumped at the chance.”

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