Second Hope Cowboy Read online

“I don’t want to see you again, Hope. You made your choice when you left. The house is mine. You gave it up. Over my dead body will I give you the place just because you have a change of mind. Now do us both a favor and move on with your life. It seems you already have. You being here only makes my head spin and my gut sicken. I bet you were fucking the doc before I even signed our marriage into dust.” He’d say anything to get her to go.

  Hurt filled her eyes. “I thought you and I could talk like civilized adults, but I see that I was wrong. I should never have come.”

  ****

  Hope slid into the driver’s side of her car but didn’t start the engine. Her hands were trembling, as well as her insides. She gripped the steering wheel, hoping her nerves would calm. She shouldn’t have drunk the beer because it settled like liquid fire in the pit of her stomach.

  Seeing Tucker after so long had been harder than she’d expected. On her drive to the cabin, she’d prepared herself for an upheaval of emotion, but she had no clue she’d feel like someone caught her with a fishhook and extracted her heart.

  Why had she come?

  Why had she put herself through the torture?

  She’d had a sliver of hope—but hope for what?

  Expecting his distance, she hadn’t anticipated her raw emotions.

  He was right to be upset. She’d left, given up. Even if she told him the truth, he could never understand why she’d walked away from their marriage, left everything behind that meant anything to her—except Chester. And that had been a fluke. The dog had followed her out, climbed into her car and wouldn’t budge. So, she’d driven away with a few clothes tossed into a small suitcase and a whimpering dog that stared at her in accusation for months afterward.

  Who would have known the dog would become her best friend. And his death had opened old wounds. She’d wanted to connect with the past so she’d taken a ride to Havens Ranch and what she saw had made her stomach twist into a thousand knots—the abandoned house with overgrown weeds, dirty siding and a fallen shutter hanging on by a rusty nail.

  She had even pushed logic aside and spoken to Cash.

  He’d told her everything—how Tucker sold him the ranch, took off for a while and came back to work at the Brooke Creek Ranch. She’d driven by the land owned by the Brooke family, parked and got out. When she saw Tucker baling hay, she’d lost all nerve and left before he saw her.

  Brave enough to come here today, she knew now she should have stayed away.

  Each time he’d looked at her she could see his pain of loss—or maybe she was seeing her own. Guilt certainly could play on a person’s mind.

  Turning the key, the engine purred alive and she backed out of the driveway, tears falling to her cheeks. She brushed them away, but they came faster than she could manage them. She should never have exposed herself to vulnerability, and yet she had because she couldn’t bear to see the Havens house sitting vacant when so many memories lived within the four walls.

  She followed the bumpy dirt road, the car’s shocks squeaked and the bottom scraped. Much like the turmoil inside of her.

  The tears rolled faster and she wiped them, but her sobs grew heavier. The ache throbbing through her body made her limbs weak.

  She stared out of the window into the foggy darkness, struggling with the past and her chaotic life. Tucker had no clue that she’d broken up with Blaise. Would that have changed Tucker’s mind about the house?

  He was a stubborn man who’d never back away from something, especially if it meant losing face.

  Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse…

  Lightening lit the sky and rain came down in sheets, making visibility nearly impossible.

  “Mother Nature, you picked a bad time to be pissed off,” she murmured.

  Hope scrubbed her eyes and the burning turned to fuzziness. Reaching across the seat, she lowered the glove compartment door and shoved her fingers through the papers, knocking out items onto the floor. Where were all of the fast food napkins? Tissues? She finally found one shoved at the very bottom.

  She dabbed her eyes at the same time a strong scent of baby powder burned her nostrils. Her deodorant had melted! “For heaven’s sake.”

  Her eyes stung. Her sinuses ached.

  Thunder cracked the sky followed by another bolt of lightning that struck a tree along the roadside, sending a large branch into the road. One-handed, and blinking eyes, she jerked the steering wheel, barely missing the obstacle.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, she laid her palm against her chest, wishing her heart to slow.

  And then a moving dark blob shot out in front of her. Deer! The first, a large buck, passed quickly but then came a second, a third and fourth. They stopped in the middle of the road, eyes wide in the headlights.

  “Run! Move out of my way!” She gritted her teeth.

  The deer stayed frozen. Hope slammed her foot onto the brake. Her tires skidded on the wet dirt, sliding, sending the tail of the car swerving to the right.

  The next few seconds seemed to tick by in slow motion. The deer finally jumped out of her path, just missed being hit. The sky lit up with more lightning, twigs and branches pounded the roof of her car as it continued to glide sideways along the narrow road until hitting the ditch, front end first, with a loud thump.

  Her head hit the steering wheel and a white light flashed before her eyes.

  But she was alive.

  Her head hurt. Bringing her fingers to her forehead, she felt wetness. In the lights from the dashboard, she could see red on her fingertips. Her adrenaline pumped, her heart raced and dizziness washed over her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tucker stood on the porch, watching the taillights of Hope’s car fading down the lane. His head still ached and he wanted to send his fist through one of the beams. He’d allowed his anger to get the best of him. Hope was right, they both carried scars from the past.

  Seeing her had scratched all of the old wounds, poured poison into the raw abrasions.

  Just when he thought he could move on, forget her, he had to face the demons again.

  Hell, who was he kidding? He faced the demons of the past twenty-four-seven.

  Thunder clapped and the rain started. The drops came down fast and heavy, making the red taillights appear blurry. His gut clenched. She was going down the hill slow, thankfully. He knew how treacherous the back roads could get in a downfall. The roads washed out when wet. He had his truck, built tough to handle bad weather, but he wasn’t sure about her car.

  She made it to the hill and her lights disappeared. He turned toward the door, ready to drown his emotions with a hot shower, when he heard a crash of lightning in the trees and branches breaking. He shot around, staring into the night. Had he heard a loud bang?

  A knot lodged in his throat and tingles raced down his spine.

  Racing into the cabin, he practically ripped his keys off the hook and tore out to his truck. His adrenaline spiked and his breaths sounded loud in his ears as he sped out of the driveway like a racer out of the pits. The big tires spit mud everywhere, splattering it up over the roof and onto the windows, until finally catching tread. He dug his boot into the gas pedal and paid no mind to the warning blaring in his head that the rain still came down hard and he could end up sending his truck over the wrong side of the hill.

  Once over the ridge, he could see one light of Hope’s car and it drew him like an electromagnet.

  He needed to get to her fast!

  He slowed the truck so he wouldn’t come to a skidding halt. She hadn’t gotten far.

  Once he came upon her car, he could see she’d missed the dog-leg curve and landed in the ditch. The front of the car was buried in mud and steam rolled up.

  Pushing the gear into park, he jumped out of the driver’s side and heard another crack of lightning, then a rustling of brush. In the beam of his headlights, he saw a group of deer scatter into the woods.

  Reaching Hope’s car, he tugged on the handle of the doo
r, pulling, but it didn’t budge. The car was locked. “Shit!”

  Racing to his truck, he grabbed a crowbar from the back and sprinted to the car, taking a running leap and sliding over the rear end and landing on his feet on the other side, boots slipping in the wet grass. Grabbing the handle of the passenger door, he held on. Digging his boots into the mud, he placed the tool against the glass, struck it hard with the heel of his hand twice. The window cracked and fell out in one big piece.

  Popping the lock and flinging open the door, he heard Hope’s soft murmur. She was bent over the steering wheel and her hair covered her face, but she was moving.

  Stretching, he gently laid her back into the seat and pushed her hair off her cheek.

  “Tucker,” she whispered.

  His heart tugged as he investigated her face in the dim neon green light of the dash. He found a spot of blood on her temple and another on her cheek, but there were no large, open wounds, which made his shoulders loosen some.

  Her eyelashes fluttered against the tops of her cheeks. “The baby, Tuck. I lost the baby.” Her fingers came up and touched his cheek.

  “What do you mean?” His shoulders tightened again. “What baby?”

  “Our baby.” Her voice cracked.

  “Yes, darlin’. We lost our baby.” Although she appeared okay, he guessed the wreck made her think of the past…and the loss. “It’ll be okay, Hope. I’m here. I’ve got you,” he whispered next to her ear.

  ****

  Hope snuggled deeper into Tucker’s broad chest as he lifted her from the truck and carried her into the night. The air was cool and damp, but he kept her warm. For just being in an accident, she felt a sense of peace. A pair of strong arms like Tucker’s could do that and she imagined she’d go anywhere with him, no questions asked, as long as he was holding her. The beating of his heart next to her ear soothed her.

  “Bring her in,” a man said.

  Lifting her head slightly, she examined her surroundings. “We’re not at the cabin,” she mumbled.

  “Doc Vinney’s. He’ll take a look at your head and make sure you don’t need to go to the hospital.” Tucker’s chest vibrated, tickling her ear. She rubbed her forehead as he laid her down on a cold twin bed. A chill raced across her flesh. The paper covering the bed crumbled loudly when she tried sitting up. Tucker touched her shoulder. “Rest easy.”

  With his gentle request, she laid back onto the hard surface. “But-but, Doc Vinney is a veterinarian.” She wrinkled her nose.

  Tucker shrugged. “A wound is a wound. And if you don’t have internal bleeding or damage to a major organ, he can patch you up just fine.”

  Hope had her doubts, but didn’t feel like arguing.

  A short, balding man with black plastic frames and a wide-eyed expression stepped into the room. “What do we have here, Tucker?”

  “She wrecked in a ditch and hit her head.” Tucker’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets, a wild look on his face—looked a lot like worry and fear.

  But why would Tucker Bailey care if she was hurt?

  Earlier he’d looked at her like she’d grown horns and red skin, and he couldn’t wait until she was out of his sight.

  “I’m going to take a look at your head, Miss.” Doc Vinney was already digging his fingers through her hair. “There’s a bump but it won’t require stitches. You have a spot on your shoulder, looks like it was cut. I’ll need to take a closer gander.”

  As the doctor tugged at the material of her shirt, her gaze met Tucker’s and his jaw jerked. He backed up. “I’ll wait outside. Yell if you need me.” And he was gone like a flash.

  ****

  Tucker sat on a cold plastic chair, staring at a poster hanging on the wall. “A rabid dog is a dangerous dog. Prevention is the cure,” he read aloud. The words started to blur. “A horny man is a dangerous man. Sex is the cure.”

  He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. His mind played tricks on him.

  Truth was, holding Hope and feeling her soft curves tucked against his chest and stomach had made his cock shoot up and his jeans feel like a lead blanket.

  Embarrassment flooded him. Hope was hurt and he still responded like a kid in a candy store. His mother would hit him over the head and call him ‘disrespectful’.

  Laying his head back on the wall, he closed his eyes. He blamed his ill-timed woody on scrambled nerves. Seeing Hope bent over the steering wheel, not knowing the extent of her injuries had turned his insides to mush. They were just now recovering.

  Not entirely, though.

  The contents of his stomach threatened to come up.

  The door to the room opened and Doc Vinney stepped out. Tucker scrambled to his feet. “Is she okay?”

  Doc nodded, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “She is fine. I gave her a painkiller that should help with the headache and getting a good night’s rest. Just keep an eye on her.” He patted Tucker on the arm.

  “I should keep an eye on her?” Tuckers balls tightened.

  Doc removed his glasses. “She is staying with you, right?”

  “No…I mean, yes, she can. Her car isn’t going anywhere.” He tore his hand through his hair, wishing he had his hat. He’d dropped it in his truck. A cowboy was never whole unless he had it. Doc nodded and started away. “Doc, she will be okay later? She doesn’t need a nurse, does she?”

  “She’ll be okay. Just a few bumps and bruises, but nothing life threatening. She’s a lucky woman.” One corner of his mouth jerked up. “She’ll be out soon.”

  Doc left Tucker standing alone, staring at the door of the room where Hope remained.

  The cave of his chest narrowed. Things could have been worse.

  Hell, would she demand that he take her home? He doubted she’d want to stay at the cabin. It was probably best they weren’t stuck in a small area together.

  The door opened and Hope stepped out. Her hair was wild around her face. Her eyes were pale and wide, with a trace of fear and innocence. She threaded her fingers through her hair as if to straighten the locks. Did he see trembling in her hand?

  He rubbed his forehead. When he woke up that morning he had no clue what the day would bring—he certainly wouldn’t have guessed that his ex would end up in his arms needing his help.

  “Ready?” He stepped forward.

  “Where are we going? I’m assuming my car isn’t drivable.” Her soft, quivering voice kicked up his protective side—and boy did he have a big one when it came to someone who looked as vulnerable as a day-old pup. He reminded himself that Hope was far from innocent or vulnerable. She’d done a good job of making his world a twisted disaster. No way was he going to give her that much power again.

  He slathered a heavy layer of who-gives-a-shit over his load of compassion.

  “We’ll take care of the details of your car tomorrow. Tonight, you can stay at the cabin. Let’s get out of here.” His harsh tone sounded real enough, but on the inside, he couldn’t ignore that he wanted to hug her. Damn pain-in-the-ass emotions!

  He stormed out into the cool night and sucked in as much oxygen as his lungs could hold, hearing her footsteps close behind him. Out of his peripheral, he caught her slanted look and the tight set of her lips. She wanted to lash out at him, he could see the wheels spinning in her expression, but she walked past him and to the truck.

  Frustration spiraling through him, he kicked a rock with the toe of his boot, sending it hard against the fence on the other side of the lawn. The loud clang shattered the silence. Or was that the sound of his wall crumbling?

  Hell no!

  He just had to get through tonight and send her off tomorrow—out of his life for the last and final time.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Hope opened one eye to a slit and the dull pain in her head was a reminder that she wasn’t home in her own bed.

  Sitting up, she looked at her surroundings. Stone fireplace. Framed picture of a red barn. Discarded worn boots. Bare feet. Tucker!

  He was asleep
in the tattered, flowered chair, his legs stretched out, arms hanging over the sides, softly snoring. The even rise and fall of his chest brought her attention to the open buttons exposing a wide V of smooth, tanned skin. The worn flannel shirt had a small rip in the seam in the shoulder. She knew because she was the reason the hole was there.

  That day years ago seemed like only yesterday. They’d spent most of the night christening their new house at Havens Ranch and she’d pulled on his shirt to go to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. When she’d come back, Tucker had dragged her into the rumpled bed, still warm from their lovemaking, and had hungrily tugged the shirt off her. It had become his favorite.

  His arm twitched and she followed the movement. He stilled and she continued her exploration.

  The shirtsleeves were rolled high, revealing toned arms covered by a layer of crisp dark hair, a shade lighter than the silken mass on his head. Without his ever-present hat, she could see that he’d let his hair grow out longer than usual. It didn’t reach his collar, but different than the short cut he kept while they were together.

  Tugging her gaze lower, over the large belt buckle with the design of a bull and star, and inadvertently to his zipper, she swallowed. The fist-sized hole in his jeans, near his thigh, pulled her gaze like water to a sponge. She glimpsed olive skin and white cotton. Gulping air, she squirmed.

  The memory in her loins was alive and well. One thing they’d never lacked was sexual chemistry. Even past the newlywed stage, when most couples began to lose interest, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other—mostly she couldn’t keep her hands off her sexy cowboy. He’d come off the land every evening, slick with sweat and dirt, and her inner switch clicked and she’d be ready to go. He’d always been good at lighting a fire in all of her secret places, and she guessed it had ruined her for anyone else.

  Blaise had never lived up to the same standards.

  Over the years, she’d even tried self-pleasure. She’d made special trips into the adult store, walking away with every promising gadget for hot pleasure only to fall asleep disappointed. Her body ached for the familiar lightning waves of passion—but she’d been scorched with Tucker’s heat and the scars had numbed her.