Bull By The Horns [Wayback Texas] Page 9

  "It wouldn't be. Eleanor left for the first time when Lavender was fifteen. She's been back off and on, but never this long."

  "Where's her dad? She never said."

  "That's why Eleanor took off the first time, to find him. But Gertrude had just had her stroke, and Lavender was left alone to care for her."

  "When she was fifteen.” Jesus. She'd had to grow up fast, too.

  "So our girl has some abandonment issues."

  Taylor stiffened. “I haven't abandoned her."

  "Yet."

  He stopped even pretending to dance, dropped his hands away. “That's why she broke off with me? So I wouldn't break off with her first?"

  "I don't know, Taylor. I just know she's hurting right now, and I know she cares for you. I wanted you to understand what she's going through, and feel sorry for her instead of feeling sorry for yourself."

  With that, she spun away and abandoned him on the dance floor.

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  Chapter Ten

  Lavender wouldn't have known about her pictures in the tabloids if Eleanor hadn't refused to buy Gertrude coffee. So Lavender found herself in line at the Dixie Pig staring a lonely copy of a newspaper print tabloid with a picture of her in Taylor's room, wearing Taylor's shirt. The headline read, “Taylor's Tubby Texan."

  Well, add insult to injury, why not?

  The night in Taylor's hotel room, the reporters, all came back in a rush. She hadn't even considered the consequences of that, she'd been so wrapped up in her mother's abandonment. But before she could inspect the detail further, a hand yanked that last copy from the wire rack and Lavender looked into the guilty eyes of Jerri Kidwell.

  Okay, maybe she would have found out sooner rather than later.

  "I wanted to get it off the rack before anyone else saw it,” Jerri lied quickly.

  Lavender ignored her and turned to Pam, the checker. “Are there any more copies?"

  "No, dear, we sold out in just a matter of hours. I could see about ordering some more, if you like."

  "Right. To add to my scrapbook."

  Pam beamed. “Exactly!"

  "I don't think so.” Lavender backed out of the store, heartsick. So everyone in town had a copy of her shame but her.

  She drove home—without the coffee, damn it—in a blur. What would the repercussions of this be? How long would they last?

  Could she lose her job? Her heart plummeted at the thought. If she lost her job, how could she support herself and Gertrude? The house was paid for but it was old and the upkeep was almost as much as a mortgage.

  She dragged herself into the kitchen of the house she loved, toward the living room where she would tell Gertrude that she hadn't gotten the coffee though she wouldn't tell her why.

  She'd barely reached the hallway when the doorbell rang.

  Her mind elsewhere, Lavender wearily swept her hair back from her face and didn't think before twisting the knob and swinging it open.

  "Lavender Prouty? Taylor Creighton's lover?"

  If she'd looked through the beveled glass first, she would have known this young man didn't belong in Wayback, not with his suit and tie and the spiky haircut. And he moved quick, angling his body between the doorjamb and the door, gambling that her mood wasn't foul enough to hurt him.

  "Not his lover,” she said wearily.

  The young man's expressive mouth turned down in exaggerated skepticism. “If I'm not mistaken, you spent almost a week with him in his motel room.” He whipped out a copy of the tabloid, trailing his fingers down her bare legs in the photograph.

  She shuddered at the motion. “It was nowhere near serious."

  Expressive Boy rolled his eyes. “Of course it wasn't. He's Taylor Creighton and he's never given a girl more than a week. Honestly. But I was hoping that you might be able to give us more insight on Taylor and where he's been these past six years."

  "Not interested.” She slipped behind the door to close it, thinking he would move out of the way.

  Wrong. He jittered even closer. “I'm Evan Zander with Celebrities Tonight. It would be an exclusive interview and we would pay you serious bucks."

  Lavender frowned. “What do you want to know? I mean, he's not famous anymore."

  Evan cocked his head. “Don't you just love those ‘Where Are They Now?’ stories? We pay very well, especially since the rest of the band is getting together now and could use the publicity. The more details you can share, the better. Based on this picture,” He tapped the picture. “You have a lot of details."

  Lavender blushed and glanced over her shoulder, hoping her grandmother didn't hear.

  "Fifty thousand dollars, Lavender, sweetie. You could blow this joint."

  She cocked a hip. “Fifty thousand dollars to tell you about Taylor Creighton. Why would I do that?"

  He rolled his head as if trying to find Taylor somewhere in the vicinity. “Because he left you, babe. And payback can be a bitch."

  "But I'm not.” As politely as she could manage, she pushed his shoulder out of the way and closed the door, sagging against it and ignoring the little man still on the other side.

  Why had she listened to her heart instead of reason? Why had she convinced herself being happy with Taylor for a few short days was worth the pain? Because it wasn't. He was gone and nothing was worth this.

  * * * *

  Taylor leaned one hand against the post on the front porch and stared out at the wilting roses he'd had planted along the driveway when he'd come back from Wayback the first time, trying to emulate Lavender's lovely garden. He should have known—he'd never nurtured anything with any success.

  Certainly not Lavender.

  And if anyone needed nurturing, she did. She'd spent so long taking care of other people and he'd let her kick him out without a fight.

  Way to show he cared for her.

  "Mr. Creighton, you have a phone call.” Mrs. Bennigan came up behind him.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Who is it?” Reporters hadn't found him here in Alpine yet, but it was only a matter of time before a reporter weaseled the information out of someone back in Wayback or from the rodeo.

  "Some woman."

  His heart jolted. Lavender?

  "She addressed you as Mr. Craig. I didn't get her name."

  He turned and stopped himself from chiding her, reminding her that her job was to find out, but he didn't have the energy for a confrontation. Instead, he moved past her and picked up the phone, hoping to hear Lavender's voice.

  And being disappointed.

  "Mr. Craig,” Gertrude Cates said stiffly. “What do you mean leaving my girl here to deal with this on her own?"

  "Deal with what?"

  "Are you kidding? Do you think those reporters left when you did?"

  He rubbed his hand over his forehead, perplexed. “What are you talking about?"

  "They're offering her all kinds of money, calling at all hours—her picture was in the tabloids, nearly naked. She won't leave the house, and they've got people talking about whether or not she's a suitable teacher. All because of you!"

  The last bit followed him out the door as he dropped the handset and raced for his truck and Wayback.

  * * * *

  Lavender would have given anything for some of Daisy's brownies. She bounced her keys in her palm and stood at the kitchen door, working up the nerve to walk out to her car. Why couldn't Gertrude drive, just that little bit? Lavender didn't want to face anyone, especially not hunting for comfort food. The reporters had left, but their damage was done, worse than any fallout she could have expected from her scene at the Blue Bug. She didn't want to deal with the judgment of anyone who'd seen that awful picture, or heard about it. Good thing school was out and she could hide until, like Taylor said, this blew over.

  The need for privacy outweighed the need for brownies. She tossed the keys on the counter, watched them slide into the coffee maker, then jumped when the phone rang. She scowled at the instrument on th
e wall and spun to leave the room, only to freeze when a low, slow drawl came over the answering machine.

  "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

  She snatched up the handset with unseemly haste. “Taylor?"

  "Come to the window."

  Her heart jolted. “You're here?” She looked out the front window and saw an unfamiliar truck, a big shiny silver job, not the battered Ford she was used to. “Where?"

  "Back window."

  She rushed across the kitchen to the sun porch and saw Taylor in the center of her yard, among her roses, sun shining on his hair, head tilted toward the house.

  Looking for her.

  "Good thing I didn't give into the urge to buy a dog,” she said into the phone, then hung up before walking out onto the steps.

  He flipped his phone closed and tucked it into the front pocket of his jeans as he moved toward her. “I hear you're a celebrity around here."

  She tossed her head and stepped onto the grass. “Someone had to be, since you weren't around."

  The shine in his eyes dulled as he came closer. “You told me to go."

  She folded her arms over her chest. “I did. So why are you back?"

  "Why do you think?” He skimmed the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

  "Needed some time in the spotlight?"

  Now the curve of his lips flattened and he dropped his hand away. “What?"

  "Or are you afraid I'll sell the details of our affair?"

  Shock slackened his face and he moved back. “Are you kidding me? You don't think I trust you any more than that? And, Jesus, you can tell them any damn thing you want about me. I don't care. I came back for you, to be with you, to make your life easier. Can't you trust me even that much?"

  Chastened, Lavender backed away, stumbled on the step. She'd been so happy to see him, yet the first thing she'd done was attack him?

  Of course. Hadn't she chased her mother away with the same behavior? Did she want him to go, or was she just testing him?

  Whichever, it wasn't fair to him, but now that she'd lashed out, she didn't know how to draw the words back. She didn't know how to get him to touch her again, to look at her with that shine in his eyes, with that crooked smile.

  She didn't know how to earn it. But she had to try.

  "You—came back for me?” She hated the shyness, the uncertainty in her own voice.

  "Yes, damn it. I love you and I hate being away from you."

  This time when she stumbled, she sat down, hard, on the step behind her and stared at him. “What? What did you say?"

  With an exasperated roll of his eyes, he braced his hands on his hips. “I said—"

  She reached up, grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down on the step beside her, wincing just a little when she felt the fabric give beneath her nails. “I know what you said. So ... What does that mean?"

  "I don't know what it means.” He swept both hands through his hair, shoving it back before looking at her. “I know I've missed you, that I wished you were with me, that I think about you all the time. And I know you can't be with me because of your grandmother."

  Those words sucked the breath out of her.

  "But I can be with you. Here, or in Alpine. I can be with you wherever you need me to be. Whatever you need me to be."

  She shook her head. “Why? Why would you do that? You love traveling, you love going places. Why would you stop that because of me?"

  "Because all those years I was looking for home. With you, no matter where we decide it is, I'll have found it."

  Everything in her went tight. Would he stay? Could she believe he would? What had he asked her to do? Trust him. When had she trusted anyone?

  When had anyone come back to take care of her?

  "Are you sure?” she managed, her hand hovering over his where it rested on his jean clad thigh.

  "That depends.” He pulled his hand away and looped it over her shoulders. “Is there something you'd like to say?"

  Questions flew through her mind before three words crystallized there. “I love you, Taylor Craig. Or Creighton. Or whoever you are."

  He turned her face to him, his palm resting on her jaw as he looked into her eyes, those gray eyes seeking the truth, softening when he found it. He kissed her softly, deeply, drawing her closer, until the telltale sound of a camera shutter echoed across the quiet lawn.

  Taylor drew back, face tense as he scanned the garden for the offender, who had fled.

  "How long will this go on?” Lavender demanded.

  He stood and grabbed her hand, his grasp firm and strong. “Until we take the bull by the horns."

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  Epilogue

  4 months later, Alpine, Texas

  "Come on, come on!” Taylor clapped, the sound echoing off the saltillo tiles of the open living room. He headed toward the low leather couch where Gertrude was already settled, but he kept his attention on the archway that led to the kitchen. “Two minutes ‘til show time."

  The beeping of a microwave was his response, and then Lavender appeared, a big bowl of popcorn in her hands. Behind her, Mrs. Bennigan carried a tray of sodas.

  Lavender stopped short when her attention landed on the big screen TV, causing Mrs. Bennigan to stutter to a halt behind her.

  "I don't think I can do this,” Lavender said as Mrs. Bennigan righted the spilled ice and veered around her.

  "The hard part's over.” Taylor reached for her hand and drew her into the room, maneuvering her between him and her grandmother.

  "No, it's not. Watching myself is the hardest part."

  "Cover your eyes, then."

  "And then I'll hear myself."

  "Are you kidding? You hardly said a word."

  "Be quiet,” Gertrude snapped as the television announcer introduced the latest edition of Celebrities Tonight, Where Are They Now?

  Lavender squealed and covered her eyes when a picture of she and Taylor, smiling, laughing, sitting together on the interview couch, flashed on the screen. Taylor chuckled at her reaction and mimicked the pose, sliding his arm around her shoulders and dipping his head to touch hers.

  The interviewer, Evan Zander, told the viewers about Taylor's years of celebrity, then eased into his rodeo career, showing footage of him riding Angelina at the Wayback Rodeo.

  "There he met the woman who would become his wife,” Evan announced as the image returned to Taylor and Lavender sitting on the couch. “You married a kindergarten teacher, Taylor, and the rumor is she didn't even know who you were?"

  "No,” Taylor laughed from the TV.

  "You didn't see fit to enlighten her?"

  "I wanted her to fall in love with me, not some poster boy."

  "And she did."

  On the screen, Taylor grinned at Lavender. “She did."

  "Lavender, how did he propose to you?"

  Lavender blushed to the roots of her hair. Taylor rubbed his hand over her back encouragingly and she leaned toward Evan. “Well, his horse does these tricks, you know? He got her to spell it out in the sawdust on the rodeo floor."

  "And you could read it?"

  Lavender sat back with a smile and tucked her arm through Taylor's. “It was surprisingly neat."

  "The two married in Lavender's hometown of Wayback, Texas.” A video of their reception in the town square played on the screen. “And now they live on Taylor's Big Bend ranch, where Taylor continues training horses and steer wrestling in local rodeos. Lavender accompanies him when she can, and they cap off successful rides with a dance at the local honky-tonk."

  Beside him on the couch in their living room, Taylor saw Lavender peek over her hand as she watched the two of them dance across the screen, Taylor whipping her in circles and Lavender not missing a step. She made a sound of admiration and he grinned.

  "Those dance lessons paid off,” she murmured. “I need to thank Roxie next time we're in Wayback."

  He opened his mouth to say something and she shushe
d him as Evan came back on screen, alone, addressing the audience. Taylor frowned, but she jabbed her finger at the television.

  "Just prior to airing, we received an update on Taylor and Lavender. They are expecting their first child next spring."

  Gertrude squealed, a girly sound, and Taylor's ears buzzed, those words spinning around and around in his head as he pushed Lavender away. He stared at his wife, whose cheeks were pink, eyes bright with happiness.

  "You're—” His hand hovered over her belly.

  "Uh-huh.” She nodded and pressed his hand down, holding it against her. “Twins."

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