Page 89 of The Cowboy's Country Charm

She wasn’t answering his calls, and she’d left with the guy. What had started out as such a good night had turned into a disaster. And he had no one to blame but himself. He set his cell phone on the kitchen table. The glow from the overhead pendant light felt like an interrogation lamp.

His mother, dressed in a nightgown and bathrobe, sat down next to him. “I’m sorry, son. I know you like her.”

Like her. He was in love with her. He knew it down to his core. And that was why he’d reacted so strongly. “You think it’s over?”

“I don’t know. But she did leave with him.”

“She said she was taking him to the ER. I know I overreacted.” And with all the press about police overreacting, it would likely mean the end of his hopes for a career in policing. “Maybe I’m not cut out to be a police officer. In Wyoming we’re called peace officers. We can’t be one of the one’s breaking the peace. If he files a complaint—”

“You think it will get that far? What would you do then?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t had time to think.”

His mother patted his arm. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. Maybe he won’t press charges, so it won’t be on your record.”

“I doubt I’ll be so lucky. There were witnesses. I’m ready to face the fallout. The one thing I’m not ready to do is give up on Kristy.”

“Well, then that means you’ll have to convince her to give you another chance.”

“And not be Rusty to the rescue.”

“Rusty to the what?”

“To the rescue. That’s what she says when I interfere. I just can’t seem to help it. When I see someone who I think needs help, I jump in to solve the problem. Or at least try to solve it.”

His mother shook her head. “There are worse things to be accused of. Get some sleep, and hopefully, tomorrow things will look better.”

He’d lost his career. He may have lost the woman he loved. Couldn’t get much worse.

The next morning Rusty crammed some leftover crumb cake into his mouth, downed a cup of black coffee, and made a beeline for Kristy’s apartment. He knocked on her apartment door. It was ten o’clock in the morning. Not too early, he hoped. He hadn’t been able to sleep thinking about the future. And the disappointed look on Kristy’s face.

It took a minute before the door opened.

His heart contracted.

Dean stood there, bare chested, sweatpants on, his face distorted from swelling, with bruises adding unwanted color.

What was he doing at Kristy’s? In the morning. Half-dressed.

“You. What are you doing here?” Dean barked.

“I could ask the same thing.” The ache in his heart grew. “I’m here to see Kristy.”

“She’s in the shower. It was a long night.” The bastard winked. “I’ll tell her you stopped by.” The door slammed in his face.

Rusty couldn’t move. Not only had he ruined his chances with her, he’d given her a reason to go back to her ex.

That pain in his chest was his heart breaking in two. He headed to the stairwell. He needed air.

***

Kristy, showered, dressed in her favorite jeans and a tee, and after eating a piece of toast, checked her phone. Several calls from Rusty last night.

She’d been too tired and preoccupied with convincing Dean to do the right thing to answer him then. But there were no calls this morning. She resisted the urge to contact him just yet. She’d wait until she, hopefully, had good news. She had one more avenue to try.

“Are you ready?” she asked as Dean buttoned up his shirt. He was wearing his clothes from last night.

“Pretty much.” He looked down at his attire. “You know I’m going commando under these pants.” He winked. “No change of clothes with me.”

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