Confessing to the Cowboy Read online

  “You baked me a cake?” Matt asked in surprise.

  Cameron laughed. “No, I didn’t bake you a cake, but I got you one from the store. It’s half chocolate and half white because I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

  “White,” Matt replied.

  “Chocolate,” Mary said at the same time and once again they all laughed.

  That set the tone for the meal. As they enjoyed the soup starter, Cameron told them how he and his brother used to tell people that their grandparents were the founders of Evanston.

  “Grandpa Emmett and Grandma Ida Evans made us small-town celebrities with the other kids in Grady Gulch, who actually believed our stories,” he said. “Unfortunately it all ended when one of our friends found out that Evanston was named after Charlie Evanston who set up a cattle business in the early 1900s that became the town.”

  “Bummer,” Matt said. “But that’s what you get for telling a lie.”

  Cameron grinned. “That’s right and you’d better remember that as you grow up, that nothing good ever comes out of lying.”

  Mary’s guilty heart cringed when she thought of all the lies she’d told, all the lies she continued to tell, to live with each day that passed. She shoved these troubling thoughts aside, refusing to allow anything to ruin the rest of what had been a wonderful day.

  It was over the main entrées that Matt asked Cameron about his brother. “I’ll bet you miss him, huh? What was his name?”

  “Bobby, and I miss him every day,” Cameron replied. “He was the best of all of us, fun to be around and he loved working on my mom and dad’s ranch. He loved animals and had a very gentle heart.”

  “How did he die?” Matt asked. Mary was ready to jump in and stop her son from asking questions that might be too personal, too painful, but Cameron gave her a look that indicated it was okay.

  She remembered how difficult it had been for Cameron when Bobby had died. Cameron had shut down, turned off and she liked to think it had been those long nights after closing at the café that had finally brought him back to life, made him realize he wasn’t honoring Bobby by grieving so deeply he kept everyone else out.

  “He fell from the hay loft and broke his neck,” Cameron replied. “We think he tried to pick up too big a bale of hay by himself and lost his balance.”

  “That’s so sad,” Matt said. “I always wished I had a brother or a sister, but it looks like that isn’t going to happen anytime soon.” He cast Mary a calculating glance. “But if I’m never going to have a brother or sister, it would be nice to at least have a little dog.”

  A burst of laughter escaped Mary as she gazed at her son and shook her head. “Whoa, I didn’t see that one coming at all.”

  Matt leaned over his plate of General Tso’s chicken to gaze at his mother with wistful eyes. “Mom, I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon. Twinkie needs me. I could spend all my spare time with her. I’d take her outside and play with her and she could keep me company when you’re busy in the café.”

  Wisely, Cameron didn’t say a word.

  Mary took a bite of her sweet-and-sour chicken before replying to her son. “How about we finish dinner and discuss Twinkie as a new family member later,” she finally replied.

  “Okay,” Matt replied although it was obvious he would have liked to continue to campaign for the pooch. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he said instead. “I’ll be right back.” He scooted from the booth and disappeared down the hallway to the restrooms.

  Mary watched him go and then leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “He’s never asked for a dog before. He’s never even asked for a lizard or a hamster.”

  Cameron smiled at her. “Ah, the charms of Ms. Twinkie.” His smile faded and he looked at her seriously. “Just let me know how you want me to play it. I can discourage the whole dog thing if you want me to.”

  “Thanks.” She flashed him a grateful smile in return. “To tell the truth, I’m not sure if I’m altogether against the idea. I never considered that Matt might get lonely when he’s in the back of the café playing video games and watching television alone while I’m busy in the front. I suddenly feel like I’ve missed something, a loneliness, that he’s been feeling and I haven’t realized.”

  “Mary,” Cameron reached across the table and covered her hand with his. Electric shocks zinged through her at his touch. So warm, so comforting, his big hand smothered hers with gentle care. “Mary, you’re a great mom, and Matt is a great kid and you shouldn’t beat yourself up about anything where he’s concerned.” He pulled his hand from hers and she was stunned by how much she wanted him to touch her again.

  At that moment Matt came bounding back to the table and the conversation turned to what kind of ice cream went with which kind of cake.

  “Chunky cherry ice cream and chocolate cake,” Mary said.

  “My favorite is rocky road ice cream over vanilla cake,” Cameron replied.

  Matt shrugged and grinned. “I just like cake and ice cream.”

  After the meal was finished they returned to Cameron’s kitchen where he presented Matt with a cake big enough to feed a small army.

  “Wow,” Matt exclaimed, his attention torn between the cake holding his name in fancy red icing script and Twinkie who pawed at his leg in an effort to wind up in his arms. “Not now, Twinkie, we have to let Mom decide if you’re going to come home with us.” He slid a pleading look to Mary.

  “I’m still thinking,” Mary replied, her brow furrowed as if in deep thought.

  “And I’ve heard that women always think better with chocolate,” Cameron said as he slid a piece of chocolate cake before her.

  “Maybe you better have two big pieces,” Matt said to his mother, making both Mary and Cameron laugh.

  When they finished with the cake and ice cream, Matt and Twinkie went into the living room to play and Cameron and Mary lingered over coffee.

  “Are you sure you’re really ready to part with Twinkie?” she asked.

  He smiled. “She’s definitely a charmer and I’ve grown attached to her, but that dog needs a boy, not somebody like me who is almost never home. Are you sure you’re ready to take on a Twinkie?”

  She laughed. “No, I’m not at all sure.” She looked into the living room where Matt lay on his back on the floor, Twinkie on his chest like a wrestling victor. “But Matt seems crazy about her.”

  “I’ll tell you what, Twinkie comes with a return policy. If things don’t work out with Matt and Twinkie you can return the dog here and I’ll try to make other arrangements.”

  “That’s very nice.”

  He leaned forward slightly, just enough that she could smell his woodsy cologne. “I’ve been trying to tell you for the past eight years that I’m a very nice man, Mary.”

  His eyes were soft and more green than brown. The kitchen suddenly felt very small with too little oxygen to sustain breath. She jumped up from the table and carried her cake dish to the sink. “We need to get home. It’s getting late. How long will it take you to get together all Twinkie’s things?”

  “About three minutes.” He got up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

  True to his words, about three minutes later there were several bags next to the door along with a four-poster bed. “Don’t let the bed fool you,” he said to an ecstatic Matt who had, minutes before, told Mary she was the best mom in the entire universe. “She won’t sleep in it. She likes to sleep in a people bed, curled up against their feet.”

  “Awesome, my feet always get cold during the night,” Matt replied.

  Mary grinned at her son. “You’ve never complained of cold feet before. Why don’t you get this stuff loaded into the car and we’ll head home. It’s getting late.”

  Matt quickly pulled on his jacket and headed out the front door, a bag filled with dog food and dishes in one hand, the four-poster bed in the other.

  “You’ve made this a birthday for him to remember,” Mary said as she turned to face Cameron.

&
nbsp; “You’re the one who agreed to Twinkie,” he replied. “But I will say this, I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed a day as much as this one.”

  “It has been nice,” Mary replied, afraid of where this conversation might lead. Would he ask her out again? Part of her wanted to believe that she could at least spend some alone, quality time with Cameron without putting herself at risk, but the other, bigger part of her was so afraid. She’d been so afraid for so long.

  Before he could say anything more, Matt returned. As he picked up Twinkie, Mary grabbed what appeared to be a bagful of Twinkie’s clothing. With thanks and goodbyes, within minutes she and Matt were in the car and headed back to the café.

  “This has been the most awesome birthday ever,” he said, cuddling Twinkie close in his arms.

  “You’ll only take her outside through the back door, never through the café. You’re responsible for seeing that she goes outside at least four times a day.”

  “I know, I know, Mom. She’s my responsibility and don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll take care of her. You won’t have to do anything except maybe love her just a little bit.” Twinkie barked, her big brown eyes focused on her.

  Mary smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll fall in love with the mutt. I won’t be able to help myself.”

  The entire drive back Matt talked about three things, how awesome Cameron and his mother were, how great the day had been and how much he already loved his new dog.

  It was almost closing time when they finally pulled into the café lot and parked. Few cars remained at this time of night and Mary realized she was exhausted as she got out of the car.

  Spending time with Cameron had been heavenly, but she’d been tense, on guard off and on during the whole time. Now she was just ready to close up the café, get Matt settled in with his new little friend and go to bed.

  Rusty stood behind the counter as they walked in. One of his bushy eyebrows raised when he saw the dog that Matt carried. “Must have been some birthday celebration,” he said. “I was wondering what happened to Twinkie with Dorothy gone and all.”

  “Now you know,” Mary said. She looked at her son. “Take Twinkie to the back and get him all settled in.”

  Matt didn’t need to be asked twice. He disappeared into their living quarters with the dog tucked safely in one arm and the bag with food and dishes slung over the other.

  “How’d things go here?” Mary asked as she set the little dog bed on the floor and placed the bag with clothing on top of the counter.

  “Busy afternoon and evening, but everything ran smoothly,” Rusty replied. He nodded toward two couples seated at a four-topper. “Once they’re finished, I’ll shut down the place. You go on back and relax. I’ve got things under control here.”

  “Thanks, Rusty.” She smiled at him gratefully. He was the one person she’d depended on throughout the last five years and he’d never let her down.

  He’d shown up at the café one spring day driving a rusted-out pickup and looking for a job as a cook. He definitely appeared to be a man down on his luck and Mary had decided to give him a chance. It was one of the best decisions she’d ever made when it came to the café. Rusty might look like a boxer, but he cooked like a well-trained chef.

  “Before you go, this came in the mail today.” He reached beneath the counter and held up a box. “It’s addressed to Matt. I figured it’s a birthday present for him.”

  “Thanks, I’ll take it back to him and I’ll just say good-night.” She grabbed everything and carried it back to her living room. She set the brown box on their small kitchen table and then took the little doggie four-poster and the clothes to Matt’s room where he was playing with Twinkie in the middle of his bed.

  “You have a package on the table,” she said as she placed the little doggie bed next to his. “Probably one of your friends sent you a present.”

  “Awesome.” Matt bounded off the bed, Twinkie at his heels and went to the table where the package awaited. Wrapped in plain brown paper, the postmark was Grady Gulch and the return address was the café. Maybe one of the waitresses had sent it, Mary thought.

  Matt tore the paper off the box and then ripped the tape and opened the lid and frowned.

  “What is it?” Mary asked, moving closer.

  His frown deepened into a touch of confusion. “It’s a stuffed animal.” He reached inside and pulled out a stuffed green frog wearing a small gold crown.

  Mary’s heart plummeted to the floor as she stared at the frog...the exact frog that her husband had brought to her in the hospital on the day that Matt had been born.

  Gonna take more than a stuffed frog to turn that kid into a prince, he said, his eyes gleaming with a proprietarily light that had nothing to do with pride and made her slightly sick to her stomach.

  But he was dead. She’d seen to that. So, who else had known about the frog? A shiver raised the tiny hairs on her arms and waltzed up her spine with agonizing ice.

  “There’s no card or anything,” Matt said, pulling her back from the terror that threatened to consume her. “It’s nice that somebody thought of my birthday, but it’s a little bit babyish.”

  “You’re right, you’re a little old for stuffed animals,” Mary said, grateful her voice betrayed none of her inner turmoil. “Why don’t we put it on the top shelf in your closet and maybe at school on Monday some friend will tell you it came from him.”

  “Sounds good,” Matt replied and then stifled a yawn. “I think I’ll take Twinkie out for a fast walk and then maybe we’ll go to bed.”

  “How about we both take Twinkie outside,” Mary suggested, suddenly afraid to let Matt out of her sight. They hooked a small leash onto Twinkie’s jeweled collar and left by the back door that led to the four cabins behind the café.

  As she watched her son and the tiny dog walking the area, her head whirled with possibilities and suppositions. They all led back to the same time and place of terror.

  The anniversary card...the prince frog...the dead waitresses...somehow they were all tied together. She knew with a horrifying certainty that they were all linked to her.

  She could pack their things, take the money from the cash register, the stash she kept in her closet and they could disappear. She’d done it before, she could do it again...go far away and start all over.

  A new town...a new name...an aura of safety.

  She watched Matt through a veil of sudden tears, his laughter at Twinkie’s antics like a dagger through her heart. The last time she’d run away, she’d easily uprooted a two-year-old.

  This time she’d be tearing an eleven-year-old from his school, his friends and the only home he’d ever known for the uncertainty of a life on the run. She couldn’t do it again. She loved Matt too much to pick up and run. Her sins had finally caught up with her and she realized she was tired of running, and besides, Matt deserved more than that kind of a life.

  She quickly swiped the tears from her eyes as Matt and Twinkie came bounding back to her. “All done,” Matt said proudly, like a new parent. He picked up Twinkie in his arms. “And now I think we’re ready for bed.”

  It took a half an hour for Matt to take a shower and change into his pajamas. While he was doing that Mary sat on the edge of his bed and played with the little Chihuahua mix who had already stolen her son’s heart.

  A little over an hour later Mary stood in Matt’s doorway, watching him sleep with Twinkie curled up at his feet. Grief ripped through her, crushing her heart and twisting her insides like a well-wrung washrag.

  Maybe the frog really had come from a school friend of Matt’s. Or maybe one of the waitresses had left it for him, finding the frog silly and cute and thinking of him as Mary’s little prince.

  She tried to cling to that tiny ray of hope but it could find no purchase in her cold, frightened heart.

  She knew the truth. Somebody had found her. Somehow her past had finally caught up with her.

  Tomorrow was Sunday and Matt had a playdate
at Jimmy’s house. Even though Sundays were busy in the café, at the moment business was the last thing on her mind.

  Tomorrow she’d call Cameron and tell him the truth about herself, about her past. It would be one of the most difficult things she’d ever done, but she knew now that it had to be done.

  Tomorrow life as she knew it would end, and she stifled a sob with the back of her hand as she worried that, once she spoke with Cameron, once she spilled her secrets, she’d never see her son again.

  Chapter 6

  To say that Cameron was having a bad morning was a vast understatement. He’d awakened just before dawn, his thoughts not only filled with moments of the day he’d spent with Matt and Mary, but also with worries about the unsolved murders.

  It hadn’t been the warmth of thoughts of Mary and Matt that had driven him out of bed, but rather the haunting of the dead and his frustration with the lack of leads in the case. He could only hope that somebody on his team had come up with something yesterday while he’d been off duty, although he knew that if any real leads had been discovered somebody would have called him.

  It was just after six when he got to the office. He holed himself up in the small room with a fresh cup of coffee, a stale donut left in a box from the night crew and the files of the three murders he desperately wanted to solve.

  Candy Bailey had died in one of the cabins behind Mary’s café. For a long time Cameron had believed her boyfriend, Kevin Naperson, was guilty despite the fact that his father had alibied him for the night and time in question. Even when Shirley Cook had wound up dead, Cameron had wondered if Kevin was responsible, attempting to take the heat off himself for Candy’s murder by killing another woman he had no ties to.

  But Dorothy’s death had put a whole new spin on things. There was no way he believed Kevin Naperson had the calculation and cunning that this killer had displayed. There was no way Cameron believed he was chasing a young adult who wasn’t that smart to begin with. Kevin was simply an unfortunate young man dating a woman at the wrong time.

  Cameron also didn’t believe that this was the first time his killer had killed. He was simply too good at it and showed no signs of deteriorating or losing control.