The Reluctant Cowgirl Read online

  “So everyone but you is going to be there.”

  She shrugged. “Probably. But they know I can’t make it.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” Tina muttered. Before Crystal could respond, she spoke in a normal voice. “So what’s the problem with Aaron leaving?”

  “He’s Dad’s right-hand man.”

  “Don’t some of your other sisters and brothers live nearby?”

  “Yeah, but they’re busy with their own lives. Aaron’s been the main one who takes care of the cattle. And Mama and Daddy are going on an overseas trip in a week. I think he’s afraid they’ll cancel.”

  “Mission trip?” Tina asked, her voice dry, as she deftly started on makeup.

  Crystal nodded. “With a second honeymoon tacked on for good measure.”

  “Honeymoon or no honeymoon, your family’s so holy, ‘The Hallelujah Chorus’ must burst out spontaneously every time they’re together. I bet they bug you worse than we do about going to church.”

  Crystal frowned. “Not really so much.”

  “It’s not because they’ve given up on you, honey,” Tina drawled as she smoothed in the foundation on Crystal’s face.

  Heat spread from Crystal’s neck to her face. Tina had an uncanny way of taking the words right out of Crystal’s mind and speaking them aloud. She glanced in the mirror and cringed inwardly. Not much chance her embarrassment would escape unnoticed, since the pale makeup clashed violently with her red face.

  Tina made no comment about the color change. “Your biggest sin is you’re too hard on yourself.”

  “I’m not hard on myself.”

  “Yeah, and I’m not from Texas,” Tina drawled as she unfastened the Velcro at Crystal’s neck and whipped the white cape off her with a flourish. “Ta-da. The most beautiful homeless woman I’ve ever seen.”

  CHAPTER 2

  “Director’s meeting in two minutes,” a deep voice yelled from the hall.

  The room erupted into pandemonium.

  Cries of, “Throw me my shoes,” and “Does my hair look right?” whizzed across the room like arrows. Tina linked her arm in Crystal’s, and they hurried out the door ahead of the mass exodus.

  Five minutes later, Crystal pulled her knees up to her chest as she nestled in the theater seat and listened to Ray reminding them about blocking and cues. Out of habit, she again put her hand to the diamond daisy on a silver chain around her neck. Three months and three bouquets of roses after her agent introduced them and they started dating, she’d finally told Brad she preferred everyday daisies to hothouse roses. When they’d gone to Arkansas for Bree and Aaron’s Valentine’s Day wedding, he’d presented her with the diamond necklace.

  She’d laughingly accused him of missing the point. But there was some truth to her accusation. She glanced behind her at the empty theater. The seats just waiting to be filled. Why was it so hard to explain that something as simple as filling a seat and being supportive meant more than expensive gifts?

  Ray’s tone shifted, and Crystal’s attention jerked back to the present. “I may be flipping burgers tomorrow, but tonight I’m proud to be your director.” He smiled, but tears glittered in his bloodshot eyes.

  Crystal felt her own eyes watering. Starting over was never easy. She thought that was one reason she felt so tired and depressed. Each cast became a family, and closings were almost like divorces.

  “Let’s make them sorry they forced us to close.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Because if I really do end up being your manager at the little burger joint down at Forty-third and Seventh, we’re both gonna regret it.”

  Crystal laughed along with the rest of the cast as they filed out and hugged the director. But by the time the curtain rose a few minutes later, she was back to an emotional train wreck. Hard to believe what high hopes she’d had opening night. Fickle didn’t begin to describe this business. And tired didn’t begin to describe how she felt when the second curtain call was over.

  “You are not going to miss the farewell party,” Tina insisted as they wiped off their makeup.

  “Yes I am,” Crystal assured her, tears too close to the surface to trust a longer explanation. “I’ve already told everyone good-bye.”

  Tina stared at her.

  Apparently she’d have to risk tears, or Tina wasn’t going to let the subject drop. “I have a splitting headache. And I just need to go home.”

  Tina nodded. “Okay. Let me call you a cab.”

  Crystal forced a smile. “No cabs for me. I need to save money now. Tomorrow, I’ll be back to waitress pay full-time, if they’ll have me.” In between plays and on her off days, she worked as a waitress at the deli near her apartment. Even though the job brought more blisters and exhaustion than it did tips, for now it was all she had.

  “Or you could go home for a couple of weeks ... see what the family meeting brings. Zee and I wouldn’t mind taking a short vacation until you get back.”

  Crystal laughed. “Or I could fly to the moon. One’s about as likely as the other.”

  Tina grabbed her cell phone out of her pocket. “Fine. Give me a sec to tell Zee I’ll meet him at the party, and I’ll run you home.”

  Crystal reached out and touched Tina’s phone. “Thanks, but no thanks. It would take more than the threat of a short walk to the subway to get me on that Hawg.” Tina’s bright red Harley Davidson was three times as big as she was, but she controlled it like it was a bicycle. That still didn’t mean Crystal wanted to get on it.

  “Walking in the city’s more dangerous than riding with me. I guarantee you that.”

  “I know. But it’s not far. I’ll be fine.”

  Tina shrugged. “Girlfriend, when you open the dictionary to the word stubborn, if your picture’s not there, it should be.”

  “Thanks.” As Crystal walked out the door, she shot her friend an impish grin. “Stubborn is what gets us where we’re going. Especially in this business.”

  ***

  Jeremy flipped the switch that plunged the downstairs into darkness and carried the phone upstairs with him. A beam of silver light shone through the window at the top of the stairs. He started to his room and stopped, unable to keep himself from going to the room next door instead.

  He turned the knob and stepped inside. And waited for the familiar scent. His heart squeezed in his chest. All that was left was the smell of a closed-up room.

  He touched the light switch then dropped his hand, allowing the moonlight to soften reality. The twin bed creaked under his weight as he sat and picked up a small gray elephant. With his face pressed against the soft toy, he prayed, words he’d prayed hundreds of times before.

  “Amen,” he whispered. He felt a split second of peace before doubt and anger flooded in. He shoved to his feet, frustrated with his inability to control his thoughts. All day long, he worked hard and concentrated on keeping things going on his small cattle farm. But when darkness came, anger—raw fury at Lindsey for turning his life upside down—came with it. Especially on nights like this when bad news was his only companion.

  He peered out of the window. In the distance, his mom and dad’s guard light emitted an eerie orange glow. They were good neighbors and normally they minded their own business. His friendship with them was one of the bright spots in his life. But their pain magnified his own. Next time, he’d have Sam meet him somewhere else or just tell him the news—or lack of—over the phone. No use in getting their hopes up over and over.

  He glanced upward at the blanket of glistening stars. Was she looking at the same stars? Was she scared? Had she forgotten him?

  ***

  Outside the theater after saying good-bye to everyone, Crystal automatically looked to the sky. Her daddy always told them that no matter where they were in the world, if they were lost at night, all they had to do was follow the stars. But after sundown in the Big Apple, the bright lights made it seem like day everywhere but in the darkest alleys. And there, the buildings were so tall that even
the sky was obliterated by brick and mortar.

  She wrapped her jacket tighter around herself and walked faster. Almost as much as she missed her family, she missed the stars. Especially on nights like this. The strong March wind blew a stray flyer across her feet, and she instinctively recoiled then shook her head. Just thinking about home made her jumpy. Maybe that was why she knew her future was in New York City, not on a ranch in Arkansas.

  As she reached in her bag to grab her subway pass, her hand closed on the folded newspaper Tina had shoved in there. Once she was on the train, she slid into a seat and unfolded the paper. “ Making a Splash isn’t making much of a splash with audiences,” she read. “Herman Lowder’s play lacks—”

  Crystal frowned and skipped down to where her name was circled in red.

  “Despite the fact that Making a Splash flops like a fish on dry land most of the time, Lowder’s play has its moments. For instance, any moment where Crystal McCord has face time on the stage. Her performance seems so effortless that one has to wonder if she might really know what it’s like to be homeless and alone.”

  She stuffed the paper back into her bag. The last sentence was too close to true for comfort, but at least when her name had finally made it into the review, it wasn’t negative. She felt a strong desire to call someone. But as she went through her list—her agent, her roommate, her mother—she knew the one person she wanted to call wasn’t reachable by phone anymore. What was wrong with her tonight? Maybe the unexpected closing of the play had reminded her too much of other abrupt endings.

  She shifted in her seat and pressed in Brad’s number but hit End before it started ringing. Since she hadn’t planned on going to the after-party, she hadn’t texted him at intermission. And he hadn’t contacted her, either. It would do them good to just take the night off. She didn’t have an answer for him yet anyway, and if they got together tonight, he’d probably expect one.

  The subway jerked to a halt and she thrust the phone in her bag. Outside, she instinctively glanced at the sky again. To her amazement, two tiny lights flickered, higher than the city spires. Were they stars? “You feel small, don’t you, little guys?” she whispered. “This place is great, but sometimes it does that to you.”

  Ten minutes later, she slid her key in the lock and stepped into the two-bedroom apartment she shared with Sabra. A good night’s sleep would help her to make sense of everything.

  A giggle followed by a masculine chuckle drifted from Sabra’s closed door.

  “Great,” Crystal murmured and walked softly into her own tiny room. Once inside, she shut the door and collapsed onto her bed.

  Why had she jumped so quickly into this unofficial rental agreement with her fellow waitress? She stretched out on the soft mattress and knew the answer immediately. The first few years she’d been in the city, she’d lived with four other girls in a boardinghouse room. As the newest paying tenant, her “bed” had been a sleeping bag in the corner. Somehow loneliness in a crowded room is magnified. And she thought she’d smother with it if she didn’t get some privacy. But she’d put one foot in front of the other. And learned to be a better actress.

  Eventually, as her roommates had moved on, she’d worked her way up to a real bed, but when Sabra offered to share this rent-control apartment with her, even though Crystal didn’t know her very well, the lure of having her own room had been too much to resist.

  In spite of their differences, they got along most of the time, and in fairness to Sabra, the redhead did make a point not to have men in the apartment while Crystal was there. But tonight, thanks to the play going kaput and her skipping the cast party, she was home three hours earlier than expected.

  “You pay rent,” she muttered to herself. “You don’t have to hide.” She pulled on an old Razorbacks sweatshirt and a matching pair of maroon sweatpants. When she opened her door, she could hear Sabra talking in her bedroom, so she tiptoed over to the bathroom. Just as she reached it, the door creaked open.

  Her breath caught in her throat. Sabra must be on the phone in her room. Unless she had two visitors.

  Either way, Crystal stared at the floor. In her peripheral vision, she could see feet and ankles. And thankfully, the tattered hem of a pair of jeans.

  She blew out her breath. Not as bad as it could be.

  Her gaze traveled up to where the man had frozen in the act of patting his wet hair with a white towel that draped across his tanned chest. She stared at his brown eyes huge in a pale face. Those oh-so-familiar eyes.

  Her heart skipped several beats before the metal walls came down around it and the door clanged shut. She was wrong. This was ten thousand times worse than she’d imagined it could be.

  “Brad,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER 3

  Crystal’s hand flew to her daisy necklace and she tried to find the right words to say. She stared at the man who had proposed to her a week ago ... the man who was supposedly still waiting for her answer ... and drew a blank.

  She’d shared her heart with this man. Told him things no one else in New York knew. He’d held her while she cried, and for a little while she’d had a semblance of peace.

  “Helping Dennis move?” Her heart sat like a heavy block of ice in her chest.

  He shook his head. “Crys, this isn’t what it looks like.”

  “So you’re not sleeping with Sabra?” Her teeth ground together as she said the name.

  He pursed his lips as if considering the question. “Well...”

  Even though she’d known the truth the second she saw him with wet hair and just his jeans on, she’d still hoped. Hoped there was some crazy reason for him being here like this. Disgusted with herself for being so naive, she blinked hard against the tears.

  He held out his hand. “This was all a mistake. Let me make it up to you. Please.” He widened those brown puppy dog eyes in a way she could never resist.

  “Only guess what?” she blurted out. “I’m resisting.”

  “What?” he said, his brows drawing together as he reached for her arm.

  “Never mind.” She took a quick step back. “Get out.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t mean that. You’re just mad. And I don’t blame you.”

  “You don’t blame me? Well, that’s mighty big of you.” How could she have thought even for a second that this was the man she was going to marry? She’d wasted a year of her life learning to ignore his little habits that annoyed her. “Some things can’t be ignored.”

  Brad looked puzzled again, but then he sighed. “Of course not,” he said soothingly. “I wouldn’t expect you to ignore this. But we can work through it.”

  “I hate tennis.”

  “What?”

  “And brunch.” She knew she was on the verge of hysteria, but that was the thing about hysteria, there was no rhyme or reason. She could feel the hot tears splash onto her cheeks.

  His eyes widened. “Brunch?”

  “What’s wrong with breakfast? Bacon and eggs, sausage even, with homemade biscuits and gravy?”

  He frowned. “Crystal. Are you okay?”

  “Am I okay?” She motioned toward his bare chest. “You’re standing here half dressed, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

  “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t intend for this to happen. I love you. It’s just that...”