It was just entirely too coincidental, and she’d been betrayed too many times in the past to turn a blind eye.
All she knew was that he’d hurt her. She’d told him trust was so important to her, and he’d never told her his secrets, even when he knew they’d hurt her. Especially then.
She suddenly wanted to talk to him. Beth Ann leapt out of bed, then groaned as her stomach lurched. Light crashed into her eyes. She fumbled for a pair of sunglasses in her bag that she kept tucked under the cot, and slid them on. Better. A quick glance in the mirror showed her hair still stuck in the random, crazy braids Brenna had made. Oh well. She threw on some jeans, changed her shirt, and then locked the salon, getting into her car. Well, after she got a coffee for her aching head. They’d looked at her funny in the coffee shop, no doubt thinking she’d gone mad, what with her business problems and now her man problems.
She didn’t care. She didn’t care what a single person in town thought. And so she gave them all a cheerful smile as she grabbed her coffee and headed back to her car.
When she got to the ranch, though, her stomach turned at the sight of Colt’s Jeep, parked in the corner of the half-full parking lot. She pulled in and entered the main cabin. Brenna was the only one there, head cradled in her hands, her bangs bright purple. Oh. She only vaguely remembered suggesting it to Brenna last night. It had seemed like such a good idea after an entire bottle of wine. “Hey,” she said softly.
Brenna groaned and lay her cheek on her desk. “Go away. My head hates you.”
“Is Colt here?”
She shook her head and stared blearily at Beth Ann. Circles ringed her eyes. “He’s out with a class for the next five days. Hardcore group.”
She frowned. “It wasn’t on his calendar.”
Brenna yawned, then laid her head back on the desk. “He switched with Dane. They got all of Pop’s land cleaned up and he owed him a favor.”
“Oh.” Disappointment flared through her. She’d wanted to see him. “I think I left something in his cabin,” she lied. “Can I go—”
Brenna waved her away.
Beth Ann slipped out and headed over to Colt’s cabin. The overgrown grass around the cabins had been cut, the flagstones removed. It looked like a real lawn. She crept up the steps and knocked on the door. No answer, of course. She tried the knob—it opened. Of course it did. No one would come out to his cabin but Colt. She paused for a moment, then stepped inside.
It was a mess. Surprise rocked through her. Colt was always so neat, so ordered. Dishes piled in the sink, and clothes lay strewn on the ground. She idly picked up one of his shirts and smelled it. It smelled like sweat, and like Colt. Her eyes pricked with tears. Why had he lied to her? She glanced over at the bed—it was unmade as well. Her hand moved to the edge of the mattress, and she ran her hand along it, then sat down on the edge.
She’d loved sleeping here in his arms. He’d kiss her ear, her temple, and then pull her in close and cuddle her before they went to sleep. As if he couldn’t get enough of touching her. That was nothing like Allan, who hadn’t even been interested in sex with her anymore.
Colt had loved her. Loved touching her. She sighed, lay down and put her head on his pillow. Her hand touched something underneath it, and she pulled it out.
One of her shirts. It was a pink one she often slept in. Why was it under his pillow? Warmth flushed through her as she pulled it to her chest. Did he hold it and think of her?
She set it down gently again and got up. Wishing for this wasn’t helping. She wanted Colt back in her life, but her need for him warred with her need to not always be the one to say “I forgive you.”
And she was going to drive herself crazy with all this speculation. She just needed to talk to him. Rationally. Calmly, now that she’d gotten all her hurt and anger out, and all that was left was this aching numbness that didn’t feel better being apart from him. It felt worse.
When she emerged from the cabin, Mr. Waggoner rode past on the riding lawnmower. She waved at him, her cheeks pinking a little as he turned the mower off and glanced at her, then back at his son’s cabin.
“How are you feeling?”
The man smiled. “Better than my boy is right now.”
Her smile faltered.
Mr. Waggoner looked chagrined. “Didn’t mean it like that, Beth Ann. He did a real bad thing, lying to you, and he’s paying for it now, I imagine.”
Beth Ann nodded slowly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I told him that I needed trust in a relationship, and he still lied to me.”
Pop nodded. “Been a hard month for that boy. First me going in the hospital, then the thing about his mom, and now losing you. I imagine that’s why he wants to run back to Alaska.”
She ignored the old man’s speculative look. “What stuff about his mom?”
Pop scratched his head. “’Bout his daddy not being me.”
Her breath caught. “What do you mean, ‘this month’ ? How long has he known?”
Allan had told her that Colt had known for a while. That Colt had deliberately chased a relationship with her because he’d wanted to prove something. That he’d chased her as a subtle revenge on Allan. He’d implied that the only reason that Colt had wanted her was just to drive Allan insane.
Oh, why the hell did she ever listen to Allan?
“Told him two weeks ago, when I was in the hospital,” Pop admitted. “I didn’t want anything to happen to me without him knowing. He was real devastated, too. I thought he’d never talk to me again. But he turned to me and said I was his only father. The only one that ever mattered. And then he got me this job and cleaned up my land so they wouldn’t throw me in jail.”
Her heart hammered as Pop rambled. Colt hadn’t known until then? He’d only found out days ago? It hadn’t been a factor when they’d started to date? It hadn’t been the reason he’d chased her?
Hope shot through Beth Ann, made her entire body tremble. “But why didn’t he say anything to me?”
“Well,” Pop said slowly. “He knew Allan hurt you real bad. I suspect he didn’t want to hurt you more. He loves you, you know.”
She was beginning to think she did know. Tears pricked her eyes behind the sunglasses. He’d struggled with his family, frustrated by their reputation and their poverty. And yet when he found out he wasn’t a Waggoner at all, it hadn’t mattered to him. He hadn’t abandoned his father. He loved him, even though he could have walked away. He just quietly took care of things to show them that he loved them.
And he loved her.
Judge me by my actions.
He was going to Alaska because he loved her, she knew. Because he thought that was the right thing to do to give her space. Because he didn’t want to harass her like Allan did, and he was courteous and thoughtful, and he loved her.
And she realized, suddenly, that there was nothing to forgive.
She didn’t care about being stranded that weekend. He’d lied to her about it, true, but his actions every step of the way afterward were not those of a man that was just stringing along a woman he didn’t care about. Nor did it matter that he was Allan’s brother. Because Colt was Colt, and he wasn’t like Allan in the slightest.
Beth Ann moved to the mower, leaned in and kissed Pop’s cheek. “I’m glad we had this talk. Thank you.”
“You’re a good girl,” he said, patting her hand.
Five days without being able to talk to Colt felt like eternity. She reopened her salon and threw herself back into the Halloween Festival preparations, since they were only days away. Colt was returning from his trip on the thirty-first, the same day as the festival.
Her customers had started to trickle back in now that the coupon extravaganza was over. It’d take a bit for them all to return, and if they didn’t, well, that was okay, too.
Allan had sent her flowers and an apology card. She’d refused them at the door. When he’d come by for a haircut, she’d thrown him out of her salon. She was well and truly done with him. No more being nice. Nice only got her shoes, with Allan. He could go to hell, and take those shoes with him.
And now, Colt was due back tomorrow and she was getting antsy. It was her day off, so she’d driven all the way in to Houston with Miranda, digging through a local costume shop and getting supplies for the festival. Miranda had to buy a jersey for Dane since he hadn’t kept one, and a hockey helmet. For her costume, Miranda had decided to be a fifties librarian, and they’d gotten her adorable cat’s-eye-shaped glasses, a poodle skirt, and matching sweater, and Beth Ann had practiced old-fashioned hair styles on Miranda’s long hair until they’d found one that looked suitably sexy.
They were in a costume shop even now, flipping through costume books.
“I can’t believe Brenna wants to be Bettie Page,” Miranda was grumbling for the tenth time that hour. “Wasn’t Bettie Page nak*d in all those photos?”
“We’ll just get her a leopard bikini and she’ll be fine, honey,” Beth Ann soothed. “All the other women in town will hate her for it, though.”
“Maybe we’d better buy her a nice leopard cover up, too,” Miranda added. “What are you going to be?”
Beth Ann flipped through books of costumes, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to concentrate on it. I keep thinking about Colt.”
“How about matching costumes?” Miranda said, her eyes gleaming with fun. She knew all about Beth Ann’s waffling about the breakup, and was convinced that if her friend would let Colt grovel correctly, they would be back together and happy again.
Beth Ann was kind of hoping the same.
“Matching costumes?” Beth Ann said dubiously. “I don’t know if he’ll want to dress up. He might be mad at me. He might not want to show up for the festival at all once he knows I’m there.”
“I’ll get Dane or Grant to bully him,” Miranda said stubbornly. “I’m sure he wants to at least talk to you.”
Beth Ann wasn’t so sure. But her hand rested on one particular costume, and she paused. And smiled.
Perhaps she knew the perfect costume after all.
When they returned to the ranch, Beth Ann steeled up her courage and left the box in his cabin, along with a note. What if he didn’t come back in time for the festival? She headed into the main lodge to chat with Brenna.
“He’s leaving tomorrow, actually,” Brenna said with a sad face.
“Leaving? What do you mean he’s leaving?”
“For Alaska,” Brenna said. “Grant’s driving him to get to his flight tomorrow right after he comes back. His tickets are all ready and everything.”
“But he hasn’t even packed,” Beth Ann protested, her heart thudding with panic.
“He doesn’t need much,” Brenna said. “Just a couple changes of clothes and a picture of you to jerk off to. Everything else, nature provides.” She rolled her eyes. “Or so everyone keeps telling me.”