Wild Girl: A Cowboy Romance Trilogy (Wild Men Texas Book 3) Read online

  “Well, things change.”

  I tell Ben I’ve finished my manuscript, and he picks me up and spins me around the bar until I’m dizzy. Then, he puts me down and whispers, “You about ready to hand over your quarter?”

  “What?”

  “Logan’s wedding. My bet still stands.”

  I stare at him. “I didn’t bet, remember? Plus, everything’s so far along…”

  “Say what you want”—Ben pulls a quarter out of his pocket and spins it on the table next to us—“but I only bet when I like the odds.”

  When I drop by Ginny’s at six, she flings her door open. “I’ve called you like a hundred times, and it just kept going straight to voicemail!”

  “I’m sorry.” I open the passenger door for her. “Ben told me reporters would probably be calling, and I didn’t want to talk.”

  “Of course they’ll be calling! What in heaven’s name is this ‘cursed’ headline?” She pulls the paper out of her massive purse. “Ms. Henwood was very open in answering every question asked of her except for how she obtained her scar. One could conjecture it was from an internal family battle, but that is simply conjecture and not fact.” She whips her head over to me as I slide into the driver’s seat. “Your mama is gonna absolutely kill you!”

  “Don’t remind me. I have to see her in about five minutes. But I have a back-up plan.” I show Ginny the printed version of Ghost Love. “I’m going to let Mama have the first read.”

  “You think that will overpower her feeling of complete betrayal that you told a total stranger a secret only you and she knew? I can’t believe you never even told me!”

  I start the SUV up and pull out of Ginny’s driveway. “Okay, maybe I’ll wait a little longer than five minutes to see her. Let’s stop at Sonic and get milkshakes.”

  “Great idea. I want to talk to you more about this because”—Ginny looks back down at the paper on her lap—“forever cursed? And lose the freedom to choose your true love? I don’t understand that at all.” She shakes her head. “No way. That’s not about you, Mace. It can’t be.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ginny and I straggle into Brick’s nearly an hour late.

  Brick’s Country Store and Barbecue is written on the giant neon sign at the entrance to the restaurant. Stop for ice-cream, beer, brisket, chicken and sausage, take-away or eat-in service, and pay at the pump gas.

  “Can’t believe Gigi agreed to hold a dinner here,” I mutter as we cross over the wooden-planked front porch and step inside. “I love this place, but Gigi?”

  “I know,” Ginny says. “But she says her parents love a good barbecue.”

  We take our time walking through the front of the restaurant, and then we stop and look around. As I gaze over the sea of picnic tables covered in red-and-white checkered tablecloths, I spot Mama standing with Daddy and Evan in the back left corner. All the makeup in the world can’t hide the rage billowing behind Mama’s mascara and rouge as she sees me.

  I decide it’s best to get step three of my plan over with now, so I stride boldly across the sawdust-covered floor toward my mother. Ginny’s right behind me, and we both come to a sudden halt in front of my mother.

  “You know what your daddy did all day?” Mama says before I can speak. “He cleaned his guns.”

  My father makes sure to clean his guns on special occasions. For each of his daughter’s births, each of their first dates, and apparently when his oldest daughter reveals to the world that she’s cursed.

  Daddy nods at me calmly. “Now that’s true, Mace. I did. The coon keeps getting into our garage, and it gives me good target practice. But I’m not angry with you, darlin’. Just worried.”

  He does look worried—his cheeks are flushed and his forehead furrowed. I give him a second glance, but before I can say more, Evan interjects.

  “I thought you came off beautifully in the paper, Macey.” Evan beams at me. “Just lovely.”

  Ginny takes a tentative step toward my mother. “Mrs. Henwood, the story really isn’t all bad. Macey sounds like quite the heroine in it, actually.”

  Mama glares at Ginny. “While I admire your pluck in walking away from a marriage before it ate you alive, I respectfully disagree with you on this—my daughter should never have made our secrets public!”

  “Mama.” I put my hand on her arm. “I didn’t plan to tell Skip. Okay? It popped out, and then I couldn’t take it back. And he ran with it.”

  “You gave away sensitive information,” she shout-whispers at me. “Privileged information between a mother and daughter.”

  “Oh, for goodness sakes, Mama!” My hands go to my hips, and the gloves come off. “You practically made up the whole thing! And it’s not your decision what I do with my life, anyway. I can’t believe I let you talk me into keeping the dumb ‘curse’ a secret all these years. Your obsession with finding Mr. Darcy among the living is a ridiculous pastime! He was a made-up character. A mythical man—it’s easy to be a hero when you’re not real!”

  I look past Mama at Logan surrounded by Gigi’s family. He’s dressed casually in black jeans and a plaid button-down short-sleeve shirt that highlights his tanned, fit arms. He’s antsy, though. He keeps shifting from one foot to the other and looking around.

  I wonder if Skip’s story has anything to do with his mood. I charged my phone before I left, but I never checked my messages. But first things first.

  I remember my plan and reach into my purse.

  When I hand Mama the draft of my novel, she wants to still be mad. But she’s over it in five seconds.

  “I knew you’d make something of yourself!” she says joyfully. “Who needs college when you’re a Henwood, right?”

  Daddy looks over Mama’s shoulder. “What’s that, doll?”

  My father was never a violent man. But suddenly, I’m scared. I’m scared to tell him I want to leave The Cowherd for real. I’m scared he actually has the legal right to stop me because I know that contract could bind me in the bar for life.

  “I wrote a book,” I tell him slowly, watching his face carefully for a response.

  I want to add that this is proof I need to walk away from the family business once and for all. I want to tell him I’ve even found a replacement for myself, but the sudden dryness in my mouth has rendered me incapable of speaking.

  He looks at me. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  And that’s it.

  “Huh.” With an odd glance at Gigi’s circle, my father heads over to the empty table behind us and takes a seat.

  Exasperated, I turn to Mama for help. But she’s not listening. She’s already reading my book. Apparently it’s engrossing.

  “Mama!”

  She looks up. I gesture toward my father at the table.

  “It’s your book, baby,” she says. “He can’t take that away from you, can he? Nor should he try.”

  She goes back to her reading.

  “But what do you think I should say to him? About The Cowherd?”

  She pauses. “Tell him your book is good. Tell him if he doesn’t like it, then he should lie better than he’s ever lied before and tell you he loves it, anyway. Because you deserve at least that from your father.”

  I crinkle my nose and squint my eyes at her. “That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard! It’s not even the point!”

  By the time I reach the table, Evan’s taken the hint and has disappeared to get himself a sweet tea.

  I take a seat across from my father. Now that I have him here, a captive audience, I realize I don’t really know what to say. One, I want to make sure you’re proud of me, and two, I’m out of here.

  That sounds so stupid. But I guess it’s true.

  “Look,” I say. “Here’s the thing—I think you should pass down The Cowherd Whiskey Saloon & Chapel to Ben. Not to me. It’s the right thing to do. Ben’s great at it. He actually loves running a business, and I’m—hoping at least— that I’ll be busy writing.”
/>   Daddy looks at me closely. “And you’re sure this is what you want? Because you’ve worked so hard at The Cowherd all these years. I guess I thought you might want to own it yourself one day.”

  “I don’t think it’s for me. I genuinely don’t. I appreciate you offering it to me, and I love it there so much. But it belongs to Ben, Daddy. Let him have it. And let me out of the contract. Please.”

  Daddy nods slowly. “Okay. I can do that. I’ll talk to him myself.”

  My stomach unclenches in relief, and I exhale heavily. “Thank you.”

  “So Gigi’s family lives in New York, huh?”

  I tilt my head. “What? Yes. I’m sure you knew that.”

  Daddy sucks in a breath, his shoulders tensing.

  “Anyway, I’m sure this whole writing thing has come as a shock to you, but I just wondered what you thought of…me.”

  Those exact words come out without my realizing what I’m saying, and once they’re out there, I can’t take them back. I remember once when Logan and I were watching fireworks, and I burped, and the people in the pick-up next to us heard me. Logan thought it was hilarious, and I wanted to crawl under the dashboard forever. That’s about how I feel right now.

  “Of you?” Daddy stares at me and takes a sip of his sweet tea.

  “Uh-huh. But never mind.” I wave at him crazily and stand up to leave.

  “I love you, baby doll. I’m so proud of you. I’ll just miss you is all. But I’ll read your book.”

  I turn back, surprised. He’s sitting there awkwardly, but he has tears in his eyes. I smile and throw my arms around him.

  He gives me a quick kiss. “Now, don’t tell your mama what I said or else she’ll have me reading it with her. I want to do it by myself. You understand?”

  “Of course.”

  I stand up and head over to Mama. Ben, Riley, and Free join us, and Free begs me to email her a copy of my novel.

  “Us, too,” Riley adds.

  “I’ll send all of y’all a copy,” I promise.

  Mama tucks her draft away in her purse. “I love it already, Macey. I can hardly wait to get home and finish it. You know, Ghost Love is clearly a romantic tale. But I want you to have romance in your life, not just in your writing.” She trails off, and I brace myself as she fixes her gaze on Logan and Gigi. “Maybe you need to seduce Logan,” she whispers loudly.

  “Please Mama,” Free says. “Leave her alone. Let’s sit down and pretend like we’re actually a normal family.”

  Everyone takes seats at the table where Daddy is, but before I can slide in next to Ginny, Ben pulls me aside. “Have you talked to Logan?”

  “No. It’s his night with Gigi. Not mine.”

  “Could have been yours.”

  “Nope. I always swore I’d never marry, which is why Vegas was such a colossal mistake. You can ask him yourself.”

  “You told him that?” Ben says.

  “Yes, I told him. And I meant it. It’s called self-preservation. He felt the same way. But if he’s changed his mind and wants to remarry, I want him to be happy.”

  “I don’t get it,” he says.

  “I’m never marrying. Again. Besides, you can’t marry your first crush. That ruins everything.”

  “Like Mama,” Ben says slowly like he’s figuring it out. “But you’re not her.”

  “Sometimes, you need to make sure of that. Genetics can be tricky.”

  “I don’t know who’s more stubborn—him or you.”

  “Probably a toss-up.”

  We sit down with the others and order briskets and collards and black-eyed peas and more sweet tea. We’re the only table in the place with no alcohol, and when I look at my father’s clear eyes as he smiles at Mama, relief rushes through me. We eat until we’re so full we don’t even want to drink.

  But I keep catching glimpses of Logan across the way. He’s at the end of his table, and he keeps tapping his cowboy boot on the sawdust-covered floor. Clearly, he’s tense about something.

  I power on my phone and check my voicemail.

  Six reporters called wanting interviews to corroborate Skip’s story. Five messages are from Logan, and four are from Ginny.

  My phone buzzes with a new text.

  What the fuck was that in the paper today? I’ve been calling you all freaking day.

  I look up into the intense gaze of Logan Wild. Texting me from his seat.

  I type back a quick response.

  We’ll talk later. Enjoy your night.

  I take a napkin off the table and wipe my eyes.

  Mama looks at me.

  “It’s all right if you want to leave, doll,” she says. “We’d all understand.”

  I shrug. “I guess I like being a masochist.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Riley says. “Because your night’s about to get even worse.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Riley points to the stage where Gigi and her sisters are starting off the karaoke.

  “Lord have mercy,” Daddy says.

  When the song begins, I widen my eyes as soon as I hear the “leave your hat on” lyrics. That song will always remind me of Logan and me parked in his truck on an empty dirt road.

  Last summer feels like a lifetime ago tonight. But in some ways, the song makes that night feel like it just happened. Over a hundred degrees out, the windows open all the way as we went all the way, and then drove off before the cops ever saw us.

  I turn my head toward Logan. He shifts in my direction like he can feel me looking. And he blushes. I can see it from here.

  He’s remembering the same night. For some reason, that’s enough to soothe me. I smile at Mama and lean back, relaxing for the first time all evening.

  The karaoke has gotten way out of hand. Mama actually got up and sang a song by Johnny Cash. She was so off-key, and then Daddy went up and joined her in the chorus, which made the whole mess worse.

  I’ve got my cheek in my palm and my elbow resting on the table, wondering if I can leave soon, when I sit up straight.

  Mrs. Phillips is grabbing Daddy on his way off the stage.

  I lean forward to get a better view as she whispers into his ear.

  He turns red and says something as well, but then she glances back to the front door. I turn around to see Mr. Phillips walking in from the outside, and by the time I return my gaze to Gigi’s mother, she’s disappeared.

  What the hell was that about?

  I tell Ginny I’m going to get some air. I’m not outside five minutes when a warm hand touches my shoulder.

  “Your mama’s still making the Henwood clan proud,” Logan says in his slow drawl.

  “She sure is.” I laugh. “Why do you think I’m outside?”

  He takes my arm. “Come with me to the pasture out back.”

  We walk until we reach the chain link fence separating us from the horse farm next door. Then, we stop and take seats on the grass.

  I pick up an errant stick and dig it into the earth until I hit the hard limestone.

  I know Logan’s dying to learn the details behind Skip’s story, and I wonder how he’s going to ask me. Is he still frustrated that I turned off my phone, or is he upset I never told him about the curse? What I don’t expect is what comes out of his mouth…

  “So what does he have on you?”

  I jerk my head up and look at him. His piercing eyes are focused on me intently.

  I try to sound casual. “Nothing.”

  “I know you.” He leans closer. “And I know that Macey Henwood would never give her hand away to anyone—much less a two-bit reporter, unless—” Logan stops and stares at me. “It’s us, isn’t it? He’s got something on us.”

  I shake my head, but Logan’s glaring now. “He blackmailed you? I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  “Logan, please.” I grab his arm before he can stand up. “Don’t worry about it. You’re getting married tomorrow. I’m okay. I swear.”

  He shifts gears. “But you believe
you’re cursed? And you have since—when?”

  “Since Mama hit me with the bottle. She showed me Vivian’s diary page that night.”

  I suddenly realize how exhausted I am. I’m exhausted from keeping the secret for so long. Somewhere along the way, Mama’s shame became my shame, and I don’t know when I actually started to believe her, but the truth is that part of me did.

  “You really think you’re cursed,” Logan says incredulously. “You seriously believe that crap.”

  When I start to cry, he puts his hand on my arm and turns me to face him. “Macey Henwood, you are not freaking cursed. God has not jinxed you. You hear me? The whole legend is a fairy tale gone horribly bad. This town is so out of touch with real life it’s ridiculous. Your mother’s basing her daughter’s future on a hundred-and-fifty-year-old diary!”

  I nod. “I know. Skip just got me really…thrown off. But in some ways, I’m glad. At least all my secrets are out there now. It helped me to let go.”

  We go silent.

  “So you gave him the story to protect—”

  I save him from having to continue. “So you and Gigi wouldn’t have any drama.”

  He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me. But his eyes tell me everything—thank you, but why would you care so much? You don’t even like Gigi.

  “I didn’t think it was fair to you.” I pull at the thread in my cut-off shorts until it severs. “Skip strung a bunch of out-of-context pictures together to make a story look worse than it was. You weren’t doing anything wrong.”

  “Macey.” Logan’s voice is strained. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you doing that. I wish I could explain to you exactly why, but someday you’ll understand.”

  “It’s okay. I know your wedding means a lot to you, and I was happy to help make sure you get your happily ever after. Like you deserve.”

  Logan’s gaze is knife-like, and as we stare at each other, I bite my lip and get lost in those dancing flecks of emerald surrounded by whiskey.

  I know I’m not going to see Logan Wild unattached for much longer, and then I’ll have missed my chance.