The Cowboys Heart 1 Read online

  The Cowboys Heart

  by

  Helen Evans

  Copyright © 2015 by Helen Evans

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The Cowboys Heart

  All rights reserved.

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording and faxing, or by any information storage and retrieval system by anyone but the purchaser for their own personal use.

  This book may not be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of Helen Evans, except in the case of a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages for the sake of a review written for inclusions in a magazine, newspaper, or journal—and these cases require written approval from Helen Evans prior to publication. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

  Chapter One

  “Is your homework finished?” I called up the stairs to my son. When he’d gotten home from school half an hour ago, he grunted, mumbled something about hating school, and then ran upstairs. I didn’t know what was up with him lately, but his attitude was awful. I wondered if that bully, Paul, was harassing him again.

  “Jamie! Did you hear me?” I shouted again.

  “Yes!” he hollered.

  I sighed with frustration, hating when he did that. What was he saying yes to? The homework question or the one about hearing me? “Is your homework done?” I tried again, gripping the solid oak banister a little tighter, curling my toes against the soft, plush carpet then flexing them. There was nothing quite like the feel of soft carpet after being in heels all day.

  “YES!” He turned up his radio, drowning out any further attempts I could make to talk to him.

  I hesitated for a moment, debating whether I should march up to his room and reprimand him for his disrespectful behavior or just let it go for the sake of keeping the peace. I’d had a horrible day at work and really wasn’t in the mood to have a disagreement with Jamie, which we’d been having a lot of lately. My own mother had warned me the teen years were the hardest, and she hadn’t been lying. The day Jamie turned thirteen, things had drastically changed. He wasn’t the same sweet little boy anymore, and I missed him.

  The throbbing in my temples was my answer. I turned away from the stairs and headed into the kitchen. I’d give both of us some time to calm down then I’d talk to him over dinner. I made a mental note to call the school first thing tomorrow morning to find out if there had been any recent incidents between Jamie and Paul.

  I stepped into the kitchen and took a deep breath. This was my favorite room in the house. It was always the cleanest and had a unique scent of spices and floral dish soap. The marble countertops accented the stainless steel appliances perfectly, and the chandelier style overhead light was gorgeous. There was a beveled floor to ceiling window in the corner with a small two person table situated in front of it. In the morning, I’d sit there and sip coffee while watching the sun rise. And the connecting dining room was fit for royalty. A twelve person table sat in the center of the room. It was surrounded by hand crafted china cabinets, packed full of dishes from all over the world. I used to host countless dinner parties there, but since the divorce, I hadn’t had a dinner guest over in months. I got our son and the house in the divorce while my ex-husband, Phillip, seemed to get all of our friends (and his hot, twenty-two year old secretary).

  Opening the refrigerator, I pulled out the package of pork chops I’d put in there this morning to thaw. I knew they were Jamie’s favorite, and I hoped it would soften him up and get him talking. I sliced open the package and set them on a baking sheet before searching my spice rack for just the right seasoning.

  My cell phone rang, startling me from my thoughts. I reached for it. “Hello?”

  “Heather?”

  I froze. “Mom, what’s wrong?” Her voice is tight and strained with tears. She’s sobbing and muttering something I couldn’t understand. “Mom. Calm down. Take a deep breath, and tell me what’s going on.” I moved toward the small kitchen table and sat down.

  “It’s… Oh, God, Heather. It’s your grandmother. She’s…”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. The color drained from my face, and everything around me seemed to disappear. I propped my elbow on the table and dropped my forehead into my hand. “No, she’s not gone. She can’t be.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetie. So, so sorry.”

  My hand trembled, and tears burned my eyes. Growing up, my grandmother was my best friend, the one person in the world I knew I could always count on no matter what. She was my favorite person, and now she was gone. And the last words I’d had with her weren’t the greatest.

  “Heather? Are you still there?”

  “Yes,” I whispered as the first tear rolled down my face. “How?” I didn’t know why I asked that question because I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know. Yet it seemed like the logical thing to ask.

  “She went to sleep last night and just didn’t wake up this morning,” Mom said.

  I took some relief in the knowledge that her passing was peaceful. I could only hope her final thoughts were the same – happy and peaceful.

  “We’re having the funeral this coming Thursday. Can you make it?” There was a brief pause, and then she added, “You have to make it. Grandma’s last wish was for you and Jamie to come home, to be here for the reading of her will. She made me promise I’d get you to come home.”

  The tears came too fast and hard now that I couldn’t do anything to stop them. My grandmother had practically begged me to move back home to Texas, to raise Jamie near his family, to give him the same opportunities I’d had when I was his age. But at the time, I’d been so focused on me – on my career, my failing marriage, my social life. It was the only thing she’d ever asked of me, and I’d blown her off. And for what? A lying, cheating husband who left me and our son all alone?

  I straightened and wiped at my face, sniffling. “Yeah.” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat. “Yes, I’ll be there. I’ll book a flight right now.”

  My mom sighed with relief. “Thank you. I know this would mean a lot to her.”

  “I’ll call you back when I have flight information.”

  “Okay, love you.”

  “Love you, too, Mom.” I hung up and rested my head on the cool, wooden table. Once again, my tears took control of me. My shoulders shook, my breaths were painful, and my entire body trembled. Grandma was dead. It couldn’t be possible. I wrapped my arms around my midsection and rocked in the chair, trying and failing to calm myself. If only I had one more day, one more chance to tell her how much she meant to me, how much I loved her and adored her.

  “Mom!” Jamie’s footsteps pounded down the stairs. “I’m going to Derrick’s. Don’t worry, I’ll be—” He stopped in the kitchen doorway. “What’s wrong?” He came over to the table and pulled out a chair, sitting. “Is Dad giving you shit again?”

  “Jamie!” I snapped. “Language.” My response was automatic, and I immediately regretted it. I wiped my face again and took a deep breath. “My grandmother passed away.”

  “Nammy Noreen?”

  I simply nodded, knowing I wouldn’t be able to speak again right now. For a brief time, when I first learned Phillip was cheating on me, I’d gone home for a few weeks. Jamie had hated it, but he’d hit it off with Nammy
Noreen, and even though he wouldn’t admit it, he’d missed her. What kind of mother was I to deny my child from knowing their grandmother?

  Jamie stood and gave me an awkward side hug. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.” I hugged him back the best I could. It was nice to know that no matter what our disagreements were, he was still the loving, compassionate boy I raised. “We’re going to go to Texas for the funeral.”

  “When?” he asked, pulling away.

  “Probably tomorrow. The funeral is Thursday, and then we’ll have to go to the reading of the will on Friday.” I already knew he was going to give me a hard time, so I tried to head it off. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back home by Sunday.”

  “That means I’ll miss school the rest of this week.” He failed miserably at containing his grin.

  “It’s only three days. I’m sure you’ll be fine, but you’ll have to make up the work,” I said sternly.

  “Okay. Can I still go to Derrick’s tonight?” he asked.

  I sighed. Ideally, I’d like to have him home with me, but my night would now be spent making travel arrangements and finding someone to cover my work commitments. My boss was probably going to have a fit that I needed time off. He could be a real jerk, especially when there were big meetings lined up, like I had the next two days. But what could I do? I had to be at Grandma’s funeral.

  “Yes, but please be home by nine okay?”

  “Okay,” he said without argument. Then he kissed me on the cheek and left out the side door attached to the kitchen.

  I blew out a breath. At least he didn’t argue with me on curfew like he normally did. That was a blessing. I took another moment to compose myself then reached for my cell phone. The first person I called was my boss.

  “Jeremy Johnson,” he answered in his usual, no-nonsense, gruff voice. The man had the personality of a rock.

  “Hello, Mr. Johnson. It’s Heather Walsh. I’m so sorry to bother you after hours, but I just found out my grandmother passed away. I need the rest of the week off to travel home to Texas for the funeral.” I stood and began to pace. He always made me so nervous because his moods shifted so often and so easily. You never knew how he’d react to something.

  There was a long pause, and my stomach knotted. If he threatened to fire me… “How long?”

  I stopped abruptly. “The rest of the week,” I repeated. “I’ll be back on Monday.”

  He made a noise that sounded an awful lot like an angry groan. Great. That’s just what I need, for him to be a jerk about giving me time off. “And what about the meetings we have lined up this week?”

  I knew this was coming. I took a deep breath. “Amanda can handle them. She’s been working very closely with me on the campaigns and knows just as much as I do about the clients. She’s more than qualified.”

  “She better not screw it up. We’ve got too much riding on these new clients, Heather.”

  I hated it when he said my first name like that. It sounded too much like my father scolding me. “I know, Mr. Johnson, and I promise she won’t screw it up.” I would make sure of it even if that meant I had to spend the rest of the night on the phone coaching Amanda.

  “Fine. But plan on staying late Monday to catch up,” he said brusquely.

  “Yes, sir, of course.” That was the last thing I wanted to commit to, but it was better than losing my job over this. “Thank you.”

  He grunted, “Yeah.”

  “Okay, well, have a good night, sir,” I stammered.

  “Mmm hmm. And sorry for your loss, Heather.”

  “Uh, thanks.” Of all the things for him to say, that was the least expected thing for him to say. I shook my head and ended the call. His moods were as finicky as feline at times. Next, I dialed Amanda’s number, silently praying with each ring that she’d answer. Finally, on the fourth one, she did.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh, Amanda, thank god you answered.” I exhaled with visible relief. “I need a huge favor.” I returned to the table and sat, feeling slightly calmer now that I knew my boss wasn’t going to fire me.

  “Okay,” she said slowly, “what’s up? You sound really frazzled.”

  “I just found out my grandmother passed away.” Simply saying the words had tears clogging my throat. I swallowed hard against them.

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. What can I do?” she asked without hesitation.

  “Thanks.” I forced a tight smile, not that she could see me, but she was always calling me sweetie, even though I was a few years older than her, and hearing it now really comforted me. “I have to head back to Texas for the funeral, and I need you to cover the meetings this week. You know these clients and their needs probably better than I do.”

  “Yeah, of course, I can totally do it,” she said.

  If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d think she was a little too excited about the idea of covering my place in the meetings. Maybe she was. She was still young, unjaded, had a driving zest to prove herself, to move up within the company. I wondered if I needed to be worried about my job. Would she try to undercut me? No, Amanda might be enthusiastic, but she wasn’t a backstabber.

  “Thank you so much, Amanda. I owe you big time,” I said.

  She chuckled. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m the one who owes you. You’ve really taken me under your wing and taught me everything I needed to know.”

  I sighed, grateful for her gratitude and willingness to help me in my time of need. And regardless of what she said, I’d be sure to repay her somehow, even if it was just lunch or a delivery of flowers or something. After a few more moments of small talk, I said goodbye and hung up. Then I retrieved my laptop and began to search for flights. It was a good thing I had some money saved up. The prices were ridiculous, especially for roundtrip. Maybe I should just book one way tickets for now, and then book the return flight after all of Grandma’s estate is settled. I’m sure my parents would help with the return plane tickets.

  It was almost nine by the time I finished booking flights. Jamie arrived home exactly at nine. I gave him a weary smile. “We leave tomorrow morning at seven,” I said.

  He nodded. “Cool.” Then he jogged upstairs and I heard his bedroom door close a second later.

  I didn’t know if I should be happy or worried that he wasn’t putting up more of a fight. I yawned and stretched. For tonight, I’d be happy. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Lord knows I needed one right about now. Tomorrow would be a long day, so would the day after and the entire weekend.

  As I trudged up to bed, I realized I never ate dinner. My stomach rumbled, and I headed back downstairs to grab a bowl of cereal. Jamie hadn’t come in complaining he was hungry, so I assumed he ate at Derrick’s. It wasn’t the first time. I scooped a spoonful of Cheerios into my mouth. Exhaustion seeped into my bones, and more tears trickled from my eyes. I couldn’t believe Grandma was gone.

  Chapter Two

  The past two days had passed in a blur. I buried my grandmother yesterday, the one person in the world I knew I could always count on, and the one person I’d disappointed the most. My heart was broken. Because, I was convinced that she died of a broken heart, and I was responsible for her death. I sniffled and fought back more tears. I didn’t know if it would ever stop hurting, but I knew I had to move on. It’s what she would’ve wanted. Not to mention, Jamie needed his mother, and I couldn’t be a blubbering mess.

  I sat on the foot of the bed and looked around. This was the same exact room I’d grown up in. Other than removing the toys and girly things I no longer had a need for, the room was exactly the same, right down to the purple flowered bedspread. There’s something weird about sleeping here again, despite the calm nostalgia I felt. What was that old saying? You can’t go home again. I wasn’t sure about that, but it was certainly much different than I remembered. Everything around here seemed to move slower with less care for time and deadlines, a true culture shock from the hustle and bustle of the city.

  �
�Heather, honey, are you ready?” Mom knocked lightly on the bedroom door and peeked her head inside.

  “Yeah.” I smile tightly and grab my purse from where I’d tossed it on the bed earlier. “Are you sure Jamie will be okay here with Monica?” Monica was my parents’ maid. They’d hired her shortly after I moved to the city with Phillip and had Jamie. I think they were looking for a way to fill the void of their only daughter leaving home for good.

  “He’ll be fine. Those two have hit it right off, and I know she’ll enjoy his company.” Mom smiled. “Now come on or we’ll be late.”

  I stood and followed her out of the room. This wasn’t the first time Jamie had been here, but I knew he didn’t like it around here all that much, and the last thing I needed right now was for him to get in one of his moods and have an argument with him. I found him in the living room, sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels.

  “We’re heading to the lawyer’s office, Jamie. We shouldn’t be too long. Are you sure you don’t want to come along?” I asked, standing in the doorway.

  “Nope. I’m good here,” he said without ever looking at me.

  I sighed. “All right. See you later then. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Yup.” He gave a halfhearted wave.

  Jamie and I used to be so close, but ever since his father and I divorced and he became a teenager, it’s like we’re strangers forced to live together. Would I ever be able to repair our relationship back to what it used to be? Reluctantly, I followed Mom outside and got into the car with her.

  ***

  “And finally…” Mr. Munroe said, studying the stack of papers in front of him.

  We’d been at the lawyer’s office for almost two hours now. I didn’t realize my grandmother had so much stuff to giveaway. And in her typical fashion, she’d made sure everything was accounted for, each of her prized possessions outlined meticulously. So far, she’d left my parents several collections of antiques. Jamie had been willed a nice chunk of money to be used for college. So far, she hadn’t left me anything. Not that I expected much from her. We hadn’t exactly left things on the greatest of terms.