Bad Boy, Big Heart (Heart of the Boy Book 1) Page 6
“Mom…Dad…what are you doing here?”
Chay took in the couple’s immediate disapproval of him and didn’t wonder why. The mother was perfectly coiffed, an expensive-looking, oversized handbag hanging on her arm matching equally expensive-looking shoes, gold jewelry on hands and neck. The father was equally well-presented, a huge glitzy watch on his wrist. Chay cleared his throat.
“Chay, this is my mother and father, Carol and Alan.”
Chay tapped the brim of his hat and extended his hand, which was ignored.
“Mom, Dad,” K.C. plowed on, ignoring the slight to Chay, “this is Chay Ridgway, one of the men who work the ranch.”
“He seems to work more than that!” Alan exclaimed with obvious distaste.
Chay let out a long breath. “Sir,” he started. But he caught K.C.’s eye. So, this was what people in New York were like. This was the world from which she came. Amazing. A world into which he would never fit. An emptiness struck him, loneliness before he was alone. The one girl he didn’t want to finish with at the end of the summer, and it was finished almost before it had really begun. “Guess I’ll just leave y’all to have your reunion. K.C., I’ll see you later.” He caught her embarrassment, her eyes just brimming now. “Mrs. Daniels, Mr. Daniels, the pleasure was all mine, I’m sure.”
* * *
“What are you doing here?” K.C.’s voice exuded controlled anger; she would be screaming if she didn’t think the whole ranch would hear. “How could you embarrass me like this? How could you?”
“How could we embarrass you? Or do you mean, how could we catch you in this, this…what were you doing with that boy?” her father demanded.
“I wasn’t doing anything.” K.C. pounded her desk. “I’m twenty-two years old; I’m permitted to have a boyfriend, Daddy—I’m permitted to have my own life. I’m an adult, for chrissake.” Tears streamed down her face.
Her mother moved forward with a hankie. “Oh, now, Kirsten. Daddy didn’t mean anything by that. Sweetheart…a little summer romance….” She looked back at her husband as K.C. took the hankie. “It was all very spur of the moment. We thought we’d have a get-away in the Rockies, and it seemed too good to miss you here, so near to the national parks and all. That’s all.”
“I thought you were in the Hamptons,” K.C. spat.
“Well, we were, but we thought this might be nice. It’ll break up the summer a bit. When else could we visit this part of the country except in summer?”
“K.C., you’re our only child,” her father offered, to try to mediate the situation.
“I’m your only child so you have to embarrass me this way?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. We thought it would be a nice surprise,” he retaliated. “It was just a shock to walk in on you and that…that cowboy.”
“Well, you’re certainly not staying here; we have no room,” she lied.
“Of course not, darling; we’re at The Four Seasons—and very lucky we were, too, to get a reservation. Nothing at all in the parks.” Her mother spoke as if it were a personal affront the park lodging was completely filled.
“Great, well, now you’ve seen me….” K.C. finally managed to get up from her chair and come around her desk to face her parents. “Enjoy your stay in Jackson and have a safe trip—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” her father exclaimed.
“At least have dinner with us one night. You can even bring your…friend if you like.”
“After the way you just treated him? I don’t think so.”
“Well, at least give Daddy a chance to apologize to him.”
K.C. caught the sideways glance her father gave her mother. “I don’t think Chay will appreciate that now…now you’ve made him feel so uncomfortable.”
“Well….” Her mother sighed and looked at her husband with a mixture of blame and resignation.
The door crashed open again. “Ah!” Bob Hastings growled. “I heard you had visitors, K.C.” He looked from one to the other to the last.
“They were just leaving, actually. Bob Hastings, our manager, my parents, Carol and Alan Daniels.” She watched the hearty exchange of handshakes, the way it should have been with Chay.
“Well, I don’t want to interrupt. I take it you’ll be staying with us?”
“No, they won’t,” K.C. shot back hurriedly. “There’s no room; they’re at The Four Seasons.”
“I see.” Bob shook his head sagely. “Well, you’ll at least stay for dinner and the dance and fireworks?”
Both her parents looked at K.C.
“We’d like that,” her father responded at last. “We’d like that very much.”
* * *
K.C. tried to smile as she and her parents moved down the barbecue line. She tried to make pleasant conversation with the servers, introducing her parents as they went along, getting a smile or nod from other staff, but feeling completely vacant inside. She could see Chay was avoiding her, cracking jokes with other ranch hands, leaving her to her guests. Whether it was now going to be a permanent split or just for the duration of the visit, she didn’t know. It made her sick. The fact they wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t let her lead her own life now colored every thought, especially where Chay was concerned. She wondered about chucking in the Master’s Degree or trying for a university out west, but after all the applications she had sent out, all the forms, all the studying, and searching for a specialist with whom she wanted to work, it didn’t seem like the best resolution. And then the remedy came to her. Clear as day, so obvious she couldn’t believe she hadn’t taken it by the horns before.
“You seem very quiet,” her mother intruded into her thoughts as they sat down. “Want to tell us what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.” The answer was sullen. K.C.’s fork hovered over her food, and she managed to swallow a mouthful. She avoided looking at her parents as they started to make pleasant conversation with other guests to their right and left. K.C. knew they would think her rude, but just couldn’t bring herself to chat.
“Darling,” her mother continued in low tones, “we only want the best for you. And we love you, you know that. But was coming out to Wyoming really necessary?”
“You want what you think is best—not what’s actually best for me.”
“Hopefully they are one and the—” Her mother’s sentence was cut short as she plastered a smile on her face and nodded to someone behind K.C.
“Excuse me,” Dakota interrupted. She handed K.C. a note and shook her head slightly as if to confirm something.
“I—” K.C. started to introduce her friend, but Dakota just tapped her on the back and went off.
“Well, who was that?” her father asked.
“My bunkmate,” K.C. turned to unfold the paper and read it away from her parents’ prying eyes.
“Hmm. I’m surprised they don’t have you—”
“Oh, Alan stop. Leave her alone.” Her mother let a silence punctuate her sentence before she changed the subject. “How’s your steak?”
Their conversation faded into the background as K.C. read Chay’s note:
“Sorry, I can’t put up with that sort of crap. Hopefully, I’ll be permitted to dance with you. X Chay”
An icy chill of fear crept through K.C. He was going to break up with her, she was sure of it. He would go through the evening with a couple of dances so as not to embarrass her and ruin her evening, but tomorrow things would be different. She had to think of some way to dissuade him, some way to regain his trust and understanding. She glanced again at the note, his firm, resolute hand, the hastily written words. And there was that ‘X’. He loves me, he loves me not….
* * *
Chay wound through the crowd, all gabbing and drinking while listening to the music. Dancers were out in the corral, which served now as a dance floor, streamers and bunting and strung lanterns making it festive. Every few feet he’d be caught by someone for a chinwag, then he’d have to extricate himself and move on. Where the
heck was K.C.? Had he been rude to her? Had his note annoyed her?
“Where’s the skateboard, Chay?” someone yelled.
“At home, of course,” he called back. Gosh, he could use a beer, but with K.C.’s parents possibly still here, it might not be the best idea to show up with a drink in his hand. Then he spied her, her back to him, in conversation with Bob and her folks.
As he moved toward her, she turned, her gaze searching the crowd before alighting on him. A hopeful smile lit her face before she turned back to the group, handed her mother a drink she’d been holding, and excused herself, moving through the gathering to him.
“Did I see you with a drink?” he managed in as jokey a voice as he could muster.
“You did. Wouldn’t you think I’d need one?”
“Well, I certainly need one after—”
“Oh, Chay, I’m so sorry. My parents were so rude to you! I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s all right. Come dance.” He took her by the hand, snaking through the guests and staff waiting for the firework display, and managed to get through onto the dance floor. The electric slide was just finishing when Chay mouthed something at the bandleader, and the small group started singing a George Strait tune that was slow and easy. Chay held out his hands.
K.C. couldn’t help grinning. “Wow, this is real country stuff, huh?”
“Yup. Real country….” He caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. A bird on the office roof? What was it?
They moved around the floor, Chay catching K.C.’s parents leaning on the corral fence. “We’re being watched,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But they’re leaving after the fireworks and won’t be back.”
“I understand some kids are closer to their parents—”
“It’s not that. They paid for my undergrad course, and they’re supposedly paying for my Master’s so I wouldn’t have to take out a student loan, and they were helping with paying for the rental apartment I’ve got, sharing with another student. But I—”
“Guess you can’t turn your nose up at that. Not that I’d know much about college cost and so on.” Something slid from the office roof—dirt or a loose tile. He stopped their dance.
“Don’t be that way. Please! You can get a high school equivalent and—”
Chay dropped her hands and looked at her as the music finished. “K.C., you can’t run my life the way your parents have run yours.”
“I only meant…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I just meant if you wanted to, if you wanted to complete your education, you could.”
“Yah.” Chay took a breath and ran his hand across his face.
“Anyway,” K.C. rushed on, “I’m going to get a loan, I’m going to do it on my own without them if their money is always going to mean their control. I thought it all over, and I know it won’t be easy—well, obviously, nothing is easy as you know when it comes to being short of cash—but I want my own life, and I’d rather have that than their money.”
“You’re quite the little tigress when you want to be.” He smiled, but in his heart he wondered. “You’re not doing this…for me, are you? I mean—” A flash, a blink from the direction of the office stopped his words.
“No, no. It’s way overdue. When you grow up as I did, having everything laid on for you, everything you want, it’s so easy to keep on taking, keep on expecting to get what you want all the time, without actually working for it. It has to stop; I need to know I can stand on my own two feet and have what I want by working for it. I—”
Her words were drowned out by the start of the fireworks. Overhead, blossoms of light exploded like shooting stars while the audience around the corral oohed and ahhhhed.
Chay led K.C. toward an empty spot by the railing as firecrackers shot off and the band started the national anthem. More exploding rockets illuminated the skies, briefly bursting into the black night, while the moon looked as if it had been hung as decoration.
The noise made K.C. put her hands over her ears. The whistle of a rocket was met by the crack of a….
With no warning, Chay was shoving her to the ground.
“Move! Move! Move!” he was shouting, pointing at the roof of the office.
Almost as one, the crowd turned and started screaming, shouting, running this way and that or ducking for cover as Jamie Forrest shouldered his gun once again.
Chay dived on top of K.C., pulling her into him and rolling with her as Jamie’s shot rang out. He thrust K.C. out of the gun’s sight, scrambled to his feet, and darted for a corner of the office building to hoist himself onto the roof.
Jamie raised the gun once more, and followed Chay’s movements before shots rang out.
Unaware of what was happening at the ranch, the distant firework crew continued to let off rockets overhead, squiggles of smoke fogging their view, while the audience dispersed, seeking shelter from the shooter.
As Chay tried to jump for a corner of the office building, his sore shoulder gave way, and he clung to the structure unable to heave himself up. Another shot found its target.
Chay let go of the office roof and dropped to the ground.
Jamie picked his way over the roof toward him. He shouldered the rifle once more and pointed it straight at his mark.
Chapter Eight
“Drop it!” Bob Hastings called, his own rifle now pointed up at Jamie.
“I think I have the advantage, Bob,” Jamie called back. “You know….” His voice trailed off as the distant sound of sirens blended with the fading fireworks.
“You can’t win, son.” Bob held his gun steady on Jamie. “Come on down now, slow and easy, before someone else gets hurt. Throw the weapon down here.”
Chay struggled to his feet. He yanked his bandana from his neck and tied his bleeding hand as he came to Bob’s side and looked up. “Jamie, for chrissake, there’s no way you can….” He stopped as the shooter pointed his rifle at him once more.
The swirling blue light of the sheriff’s car was now added to the fireworks display. “Bob?” the sheriff called out as the vehicle’s door clunked closed.
Chay kept his eye on Jamie, stealing only a brief glance to make sure K.C. remained well out of range where he had left her. She was squatting near the steps of the tack room; dirt and straw dusted her clothes from the spin they had made. Tears streaked the grime on her face as she bit her lip.
And then she screamed.
The gun rang out once more as Chay turned back to see Jamie lose his footing on the high ridge of the tiled roof, the rifle still in his hands. Then his arms spread out like broken wings before he fell to the ground and lay motionless at Bob’s feet.
* * *
“Broke his damn neck, just like that,” Bob was saying. “Well, I’ll be.”
The office felt incredibly suffocating. K.C. sat in her chair, tear-stained and dirty, filthy hair hanging down her face. Her parents hovered nearby while Breezy handed her a wet cloth. By the window, Bob spoke with the sheriff as Chay listened in before heading over to check on K.C.
“I suppose we owe you our daughter’s life,” her father said reluctantly. “Thank you.”
Chay just shook his head in acknowledgement, his hand and shoulder bandaged by the medics. They all turned as, outside, the covered stretcher with Jamie’s body on it was rolled into the back of the ambulance.
“Well, you’ll come home now,” her father said decisively.
“I most certainly will not.” K.C. kept her voice quiet but there was no way she was giving in. “It’s over with, Daddy; the man was crazy. It’s not as if there are loads of lunatics on the loose here. It’s safer than New York.”
“Oh, really….” her mother started.
“I’ve often wondered what New York is like,” Breezy chimed in. “A few too many people for me, really. ’Course, you get a load of people, the more likely there are to be crazies around. I’d reckon your girl is pretty safe here for the duration of the summer.”
The sheriff and Bob Hastings drifted over to the others.
K.C. looked up at her parents. “Mom, Dad: I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. But I am twenty-two years old! Twenty-two! I’m an adult. I am staying here for the rest of the summer and, after that, we’ll see!”
“What about your Master’s? You’ve worked so hard.” Her mother fumbled in her bag for a tissue, watching Breezy put her arm around her daughter.
“I didn’t say I was giving up my Master’s. But I’ll be paying you back for the tuition and getting a loan.”
“Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind?” her father demanded. “It’ll take years to pay back….”
Chay had the smallest smile on his face, but it was a smile nonetheless. He played with his bandage as he exchanged glances with Breezy.
K.C. took a deep breath. “I’m not going home. I’ll be fine. Please leave now, we have a lot of things to discuss, and they don’t concern you.” She caught Bob lifting a brow. “Enjoy the rest of your vacation. I’ll speak to you before you leave.”
Her father leaned on the desk, his nose inches away. “Now, you listen to me!”
“I have listened, Daddy.” A strange kind of calm came over her, as if her whole life had fallen into place. “And now I’ve made up my mind.”
“Alan, come.” Her mother put a hand on her father’s shoulder before she snapped shut her bag. “She’s in good hands here and has work to do.”
When the door closed behind them, there was a momentary silence before the sheriff said, “Well, Bob, I think I have enough statements now to file on this. Kirsten, you really should have reported your encounter with Forrest when it happened; you know that.”