Confessing to the Cowboy Page 18

  “Cameron, you know I care about you very deeply, but everything is such a jumbled mess in my head, in my life right now.” She hated how her words dimmed the sparkling light in his eyes and tugged a tiny frown into the center of his forehead. “I just... I don’t want to...”

  “It’s okay,” he said, halting her awkward, stumbling words. He finished his drink in one large swallow and then stood. “It’s getting late and I’m going to call it a night. Do you need anything else?”

  She’d hurt him by not being able to tell him that she returned his love, that she wanted the same things he did for the future—a future together—but she couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear. “No thanks, I’m fine. I think I’ll just sit here and finish the last of my wine.”

  He gave her a curt nod and carried his glass into the kitchen. As he walked back through the living room he murmured a good-night and she did the same, her heart heavy.

  Alone.

  She was alone the way she always had been, alone and afraid and now with a heart half-broken. There was nothing more she’d like than to give Cameron her future, but what he didn’t understand was right now she didn’t quite believe she had one.

  * * *

  Cameron stared up at his darkened ceiling, feeling not only like a fool, but also with a heartache he hadn’t experienced since Bobby’s death.

  She didn’t love him. He’d made a mistake, misjudged her. He’d put his heart out for her to take and she’d rejected it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Their lovemaking had been nothing more than an impulsive release on her part, an act that really had nothing to do with love.

  His job was to protect her and Matt, and that was his only job, his only role in her life. It wasn’t his place to love her or need her. Somehow, someway he had to move forward knowing that.

  He awakened the next morning with his heart still heavy, but with the resolve to be the friend and protector that Mary needed no matter how painful it was to him.

  It was early enough that he was the first one up. He showered and dressed in his uniform for the day and then went into the kitchen to make coffee.

  While he waited for the brew to drip through, he stood at the window and stared outside where the sun was just peeking up over the horizon.

  He shouldn’t have confessed his feelings to her in the midst of the chaos, with the anxiety that a bomb could explode at any moment. Maybe if he had waited longer her reply would have been different.

  He jerked away from the window, once again feeling like his thoughts were foolish. The truth of the matter was that he’d probably been right when he’d believed that he might be her transitional man. He’d clean up the danger around her, he’d shown her that lovemaking could be wonderful again and that was all that his role in her life would remain, what it was meant to be.

  All his fantasies about her and Matt living in this house, filling it with life and laughter had been nothing more than the fantasies of a lonely man. Maybe it was time he looked around at some of the other women in town who had made it quite clear they would be up for a date with him. Still, the idea of dating anyone else held no appeal. Loving Mary had become a habit he had to learn to break and what he needed most was time.

  It was almost eight when he dropped Matt off at school and then got back into the car to drive Mary to the café. She’d been quiet since getting up, distant and introspective.

  As they drank coffee and Matt got ready for school, their conversation had been strained and superficial. He wished he hadn’t told her how he felt. He wished he would have kept his feelings deep inside so they could continue to enjoy the light, easy friendship they’d had before last night.

  “Nice to see the sunshine,” she said as they headed toward the café.

  “A day or two of this and the snow will be completely gone,” Cameron replied. As he pulled into the café, he frowned at the amount of cars and trucks already parked. There was even a delivery truck pulled up from Riley’s Furniture Store.

  “What the heck?” Mary muttered from beside him. “Do you know anything about what’s going on?”

  “Don’t have a clue,” he replied honestly.

  Together they got out of the car and he was surprised to see that the Open sign on the café was still turned to Closed. The café was always open by six-thirty in the morning. Why were all of these people here and why was the café still closed?

  Obvious concern created a creased frown across Mary’s forehead. She pushed open the door that was unlocked. Cameron was just behind her as a group of people with paint cans and rollers, paintbrushes and cleaning supplies all yelled surprise in unison.

  Several waitresses were there, as well as Rusty. Junior stood next to George Wilton who wielded a paint roller like it was a foreign object that had magically appeared in his hand. There were other familiar faces and even Brandon Williams was there in his scooter, his lap filled with a variety of cleaning supplies and rags.

  Courtney Chambers stepped forward, her pretty face wreathed in a smile. She wrapped Mary in a big hug and then stepped back from her. “You have done so much for all of us and now we think it’s time we give a little back to you. We’re here to clean up and paint the back rooms and we’ve all chipped in and bought you the navy-and-beige sofa that was in the window at Riley’s Furniture Store. You told me once that you thought it was pretty. Hopefully by tomorrow you’ll have your place back the way it should be.”

  As she was talking, Mary’s eyes had welled up with tears. “We figured we’d all work through the morning and get as much done as we could,” Courtney continued, “and then you can go ahead and open up for lunch and some of us will continue working in the back while the others man the café. Does that sound like a plan?”

  The tears spilled onto Mary’s cheeks and she nodded her head affirmatively and then turned and ran back out the front door.

  “I think we must have overwhelmed her,” Courtney said as Cameron went after her.

  She ran straight to his car and got into the passenger seat. He climbed in behind the steering wheel and didn’t say anything as she cried for several minutes, her face averted from him.

  She finally pulled a tissue from her purse, swiped at her cheeks, and the unexpected weeping became tiny sniffles. “I never expected...” she began.

  “That people around here care about you? That they would do what they could to help you if you needed it? You’ve obviously underestimated your own worth with the good people of Grady Gulch,” he replied gently.

  She dabbed at her eyes and turned to stare at him, the blue of her gaze hollow and empty. “I have to leave here,” she said. “We need to go to the school and pick up Matt and then he and I need to leave.” Despite the emptiness of her eyes, there was an urgent desperation in her voice.

  “Don’t you understand, all those people are potential victims. If Jason sees that they care about me at all, then he’ll go after them. He’ll kill them and it will be because of me.” A new sob caught in her throat.

  “And where are you and Matt going to go?” he asked.

  She stared at him and that delicate frown he found both charming and troubling appeared across her forehead. “Somewhere...anywhere...just away from here.”

  “And wherever you go he’ll find you again and then you’ll have to run once more. Matt will never know a real home and friends again. He’ll learn to be afraid of everyone, afraid to get close to anyone. Is that what you want for him? For yourself?”

  She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, as if exhausted, broken by the very thought. “No, that’s not what I want for either of us.”

  “I thought you were through running away, that you were ready to stop and take a stand. At least here you have people who love you surrounding you. At least here you have support and you aren’t alone.”

  He wanted to touch her so badly, just a reassuring tap on her hand, a quick embrace to let her know she was where she belonged. But he was afraid to tou
ch her now, especially after last night. He had no right.

  “Stay, Mary. Stay here where you’ve built your life, where Matt is happy and feels like this is his home. Stay and let me and my men end this for you here and now.”

  “But what if it doesn’t end here? What if it never ends?” Her voice trembled with the frailty of her emotions.

  “It ends here, Mary,” he said firmly, believing what he told her. “One way or another it ends here. You have to trust somebody. Trust me. Trust in this town and us. Trust in these people who care about you, people who have embraced you and your son.”

  He held her gaze and watched her eyes soften and lose some of the abject fear that had radiated there only moments before. She finally cast her gaze back toward the café. Her shoulders straightened as she sat forward. “This is my home. This is my town and he has no place here.” She looked back at Cameron and nodded. “I should have made a stand against him years ago, before things got to where they did. I should have been strong enough to walk away from him the very first time he hit me. You’re right. I’ll make my stand here.”

  She opened the car door and stepped outside. As he followed her back to the café he only hoped...he prayed that this wouldn’t be a stand that ended in her death.

  Chapter 15

  Mary spent most of the morning with her heart in her throat as her friends worked hard in her living quarters to turn things right again for her and her son.

  The burnt sofa was dragged outside by the Taylor twins to the Dumpster and then the real cleaning began. Lynette and Ginger worked to clear the closets and drawers, carrying out plastic tub after tub of clothing to be washed. The plan was to take them to the local Laundromat where they could use eight washers and dryers to get the job done in as short a time as possible.

  Everyone else worked on cleaning, wiping smoke from tables and chairs and from the countertop surfaces in the bathrooms. Each and every item on the bookcase was taken off and swiped clean. Mary was ordered to sit in a chair with a cup of coffee and do nothing other than supervise the job.

  She didn’t have to do any supervising. Everyone worked hard at each task assigned by Lynette, who seemed to be in charge, leaving Mary nothing to do but think and thank her lucky stars that she was here in Grady Gulch, a town that held so many good, caring people.

  At least if Jason killed her here there would be people who would mourn for her, she thought and then cursed herself for such morbid thinking.

  The work going on in the back rooms came with plenty of chatter and laughter among everyone. Brandon jokingly appointed himself the low man while Junior was his partner, cleaning the areas Brandon couldn’t reach from his wheelchair.

  Jeff and John Taylor began to sing “Taking Care of Business” and it wasn’t long before everyone who knew the lyrics to the old song had joined in.

  Mary’s heart was so full at the moment there was no place for fear. She’d always seen herself as a local business owner, the woman who provided good food and good service, but it was obvious these people thought of her as much more than a waitress or just a woman who owned a place to eat.

  They considered her a vital member of their community, of their lives. They thought of her as a friend. It both humbled her and awed her.

  She’d never really taken the time to realize that Grady Gulch was the hometown she’d always wanted, a place of warmth and community pride and love.

  She was afraid for each and every one of these people, but no matter where she went, no matter who she met, she’d be afraid. Cameron was right. It was time to take a stand against Jason here and now.

  By noon Rusty was back on the grill with Junior at his side and the café was officially open for business. The smell of fresh paint drifted from the back rooms as several of the people remained back there to continue their work.

  Mary manned the counter and realized toward the end of the rush hour that at some point during the afternoon the fear that had been a constant companion inside her for so long had finally vanished. Whatever happened would happen. Her dwelling on the fear didn’t help and wouldn’t stop it.

  She poured herself a cup of hot cocoa and sat on the stool behind the counter. Her thoughts went to Cameron and the night before. He loved her. As he’d said the words she’d felt the emotion radiating from his body and shining from his eyes. She’d heard it in his voice, the softness, the want...the love.

  Deep in her heart she’d always known that he loved her. For eight long years he’d sat across from her at the counter and they’d talked about life and dreams. She’d felt his love for her.

  But how could she believe in that love? They hadn’t dated. They’d spent precious little time alone together other than those late-night talks. All they’d really done was tumble into bed and make passionate love one time.

  And she’d love to do it again...and again, but shouldn’t love be about more than that? She shook her head, as if to dispel the thought. She couldn’t think about Cameron right now. Hopefully Cameron had been busy all morning finding the whereabouts of Jason or at least whoever was doing his dirty work.

  She was sticking here until the bitter end. She just hoped when the end came she and Matt were together and both of them were still standing.

  * * *

  Thomas Manning eased down into the chair across from Cameron in the interview room. He’d finally shown up at his house at noon and Ben Temple had brought him in.

  “I’ve been wondering how long it would take before I’d finally be sitting here,” he said as he shrugged off his gray tweed coat and hung it on the back of his chair.

  Thomas was a thin, tall man with ordinary features and a facade of peaceful self-acceptance. He folded his hands in his lap and looked at Cameron with pale gray eyes.

  “I’m assuming you want to know all about my marriage and divorce and if I’m hiding some kind of a killing rage that has made me take out that rage on the waitresses that work at the Cowboy Café,” he said.

  “Something like that,” Cameron replied, trying to get a read on the man who appeared, on the surface, completely passive.

  “My marriage was ill-fated from the beginning,” Thomas said. “Before I got married, I ate most of my meals at a truck stop near my home. That’s where I met Nancy who would become my wife. To be honest, I’d never much considered marriage. I was satisfied with my solitude. I liked fine wine, good books and educational television. Nancy was the exact opposite of me. She loved tequila shots, professed that the only book she’d ever read was How To Marry a Millionaire and she watched the Housewives of anything.” He frowned thoughtfully and unclasped his hands.

  “So, why did you marry her?” Cameron asked.

  A hint of a smile curved one corner of Thomas’s thin upper lip. “I’m not so sure that I married her as she married me. She was a force like a hurricane and she’d decided I was the man who would take her away from the truck stop and into the finer things of life. She was expecting good wine, classical music and faculty parties where she could reign as queen.”

  “And that wasn’t the case?”

  Thomas’s hint of a smile disappeared, leaving his features once again emotionless. “Nancy hated classical music and I didn’t attend faculty parties. We coexisted for about six months before she decided to go back to work at the truck stop. I knew then that our marriage was over.”

  He said the words as if he were commenting that it might rain tomorrow. As far as Cameron was concerned the man’s lack of passion was as disturbing as an eruption of the emotion.

  “The pretense of our marriage continued for another six months or so before Nancy finally took off.”

  “And that didn’t bother you?” Cameron asked.

  Thomas shrugged. “She wasn’t happy in my world and I had no intention of changing and she understood that. I’m the first to admit that I’m a selfish man, accustomed to pleasing nobody but myself. So, the easy answer to your question is no, it didn’t bother me when Nancy left me. I was perfectly satisfied
to return to the way things had been before she’d come into my life.”

  Cameron wasn’t sure if he believed Thomas’s assessment of the situation or not. “What brought you to Grady Gulch?”

  “My sister had driven through here one time a couple of years ago and had been charmed by the slow-moving small-town life. Last year I had enough tenure to quit my job and enough money saved to make some changes. I remembered what my sister had told me about Grady Gulch, so here I am.”

  “You haven’t made many friends while you’ve been here,” Cameron observed.

  Thomas raised an eyebrow in apparent amusement. “I have found few dusty cowboys or cowgirls who appreciate the fine work of Shakespeare or the soul-moving music of Mozart. And as far as I’m concerned, friends are vastly overrated.”

  Pretentious ass, Cameron thought. “I’d like to know where you were on these nights.” He listed the nights of the three murders and also the date of the fire in the café.

  “On the nights those poor women were murdered I was at home in bed. On the night of the fire I was driving back from Oklahoma City in the middle of the snowstorm.”

  “But you arrived back here in town around midnight and the fire wasn’t set until between the hours of two and three in the morning,” Cameron said.

  Once again Thomas’s eyebrow rose. “Have you had me under surveillance? What a waste of resources,” he scoffed. “Do you really believe I’m the man you’re looking for?”

  Cameron leaned back in his chair and eyed the man across from him with open speculation. “To be perfectly honest with you, Mr. Manning, I’m not sure what I believe about you.”

  “After driving several hours in a snowstorm to get home from Oklahoma City I can promise you I went directly to bed. I have no motive to hurt those waitresses or burn down the café. I enjoy the meals I take there, but certainly haven’t formed any kind of a relationship with anyone there that would produce ill-feelings. You certainly have no evidence that ties me to any of this, so I’d say not only are you wasting your time here, but you’re wasting mine.”