Page 40 of The Cowboy's Downfall
“You might as well get that,” someone said to him. “It’s always for you.”
Which wasn’t true. The bosses often called in the evening with instructions for the next day. Nix answered anyway, because while it might not be true, Peg wasn’t known for giving up without a fight.
Sure enough, it was Peg.
“You’re a hard man to reach.” She tried to sugarcoat her impatience, adding a light note to hide it, but he knew it was there. “I left you a message, but I wanted to confirm. I wouldn’t know what to do if I were stranded. My flight arrives at Logan International early Wednesday morning. You can pick me up at nine o’clock.”
I wouldn’t know what to do if I were left stranded—a plea to his conscience—followed by an assumption that he’d show up at nine as instructed with no room for refusal. How would Shauna interpret this conversation?
She’d wonder what Peg’s motive was.
“Why don’t you fly into Forth Worth so your parents can pick you up?” he asked, because he really was curious as to what Peg expected to gain. Financially, he had nothing left.
“You and I need to talk, Nix. We have to put all of this behind us somehow. We’ve both made mistakes. Do you really want to give up after ten years of marriage?”
Classic Peg. Take charge of the situation and turn him into the unreasonable one. The tips of his ears burned. So did the back of his neck. She wanted him back because she had no one else. Or until she found someone else. Probably both. He needed to take the advice he gave Remi. He’d been led around by the nose hairs long enough.
“Our lawyers did our talking two years ago. Change your flight. It’s a long bus ride to Texas from here.”
He hung up to a round of applause.
“And that, folks,” Dez said, pumping his fist in the air, “is how it’s done.”
Nix didn’t feel done. He didn’t feel much of anything at all. He’d covered a lot of ground in the past two years, literally and figuratively, and somewhere along the line, he’d left Peg behind.
The phone rang again. He picked it up. Jesus, she was persistent.
“Don’t call this number again,” he said quietly, then dropped the receiver into the cradle.
Okay, maybe he felt a little lightheaded.
Freedom did that to a man.
*
Shauna
Shauna rested herchin on her knees. Before she drove to the ranch and murdered him with her bare hands, she should probably think everything through.
They’d had a mutually enjoyable evening. They’d agreed it was worth repeating. They’d parted on excellent terms. Nothing had gone wrong on her end.
Her phone screen went dark. She was sitting in her bedroom closet so she could call him without being overheard. Freda had offered to take Taryn shopping in Billings Saturday afternoon. They were going to the theater after that, then planned to spend the night in a hotel, and she’d wanted to share the good news with him.
She knew he didn’t like taking her calls at the bunkhouse. Even so, telling her not to call the number again, without giving her a chance to so much as say hello, seemed an extreme reaction. Her number was private and wouldn’t show up on caller ID, so how had he even known it was her? She needed more information before she jumped to conclusions. She knew—sheknew—there was a logical explanation.
She would, however, be damned before she called the bunkhouse again. Taryn had mentioned she’d be riding a mechanical bull for the first time on Saturday morning. Shauna had been hesitant to go—mostly because Taryn made it plain she didn’t want her there—but on the off chance Nix had lost interest in their arrangement, he could tell her in person.
Otherwise, if he wouldn’t get a cell phone for himself, then she’d get one for him.
She spent her spare time all week researching the best places to dispose of a body, just in case. It turned out Montana had quite a few.
By Saturday morning she wasn’t sure whose body she’d need to dispose of—his or Taryn’s—because Taryn had been in a mood the whole week and became especially surly if questioned. Nora was grounded and not allowed to go to Billings with her, not even with Freda to chaperone, so that might be it.
At least she didn’t have to worry about a silent drive to the Endeavour together. Taryn left without saying goodbye while Shauna was pouring her first cup of coffee.
By the time Shauna arrived at the arena, the mechanical bull had been set up near the chute. The announcer’s booth and executive suites faced the chute from the far end of the arena. She took a seat in the stadium with the parents whose kids weren’t old enough to drive themselves to the clinic. Based on conversation, riding mechanical bulls wasn’t the novelty to them that it was to her.
Nix and Miles had pared the participant numbers down to thirty teens, and Shauna felt a burst of pride that Taryn had made the cut. She might be a cousin to one of the owners, but Nix and Miles wouldn’t have kept her if she didn’t show promise.
