Page 45 of Any Cowboy of Mine
I know you think you know what happened this morning, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. Please tell Jackie what a great time I had with Sophie and that I’ll fill her in when I see her again. Hopefully soon.
C’mon, c’mon.Finally, somewhere down the chute, his lane opened up and he caught a break. With a passing glance at the boy next to him, who was now smiling and completely engrossed in his pony, Brad sped off. Maybe this was a sign that his luck was about to change.
As he raced down Main Street, passing closed but ornately decorated shops that went by in a blur of red and green, his phone buzzed on his lap. He fought the urge to check it but left it until he could safely pull over.
He wished he could enjoy the fact that it was a holiday—usually his favorite one of all—but he just couldn’t, not until he’d had a chance to lay himself at Sophie’s feet and explain his morning to her. Not until he could promise her he’d never do anything to hurt her.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Brad found himself outside Steve’s apartment. He’d only lived there since he split from his wife—about three years now—but he’d made it into more of a home than Brad had at the place he’d shared with Julia for a decade and a half. Brad checked the lot and didn’t see Steve’s battered old truck, one he’d know anywhere, so he settled in to wait it out. He checked his phone and saw a message from his mother, not Steve, as he’d optimistically hoped.
Can I assume that you won’t be coming to Christmas dinner, then? That you’ll be with that Sarah girl instead? We should also talk about your stay above the garage if you get serious with her. There simply isn’t room for two up there.
Brad clamped his jaw tight, the muscles in his cheeks taut and unforgiving. The last place he wanted to be was around his mom tonight, especially after the unforgivable things she’d said to him at Julia’s wedding and at the diner. And calling Sophie by the wrong name? It was obvious she just wanted to get under his skin, so he let the jab slide before he replied and made the situation worse. Besides, before his sister married Owen and moved into his home, Paige had lived in the apartment for a few weeks with her best friend, Aurelie, and his parents hadn’t had crap to say about that. In fact, his dad probably still didn’t have an opinion on the matter.
He played on his phone for a while, checking Facebook at first, then opening a game of 2048 that kept him at least marginally distracted. After beating the game twice, he sighed and checked his phone. Crap. It was almost three in the afternoon already. He shivered. The cab of his truck had become an icebox in the past couple hours. His stomach rumbled just then as well, alerting him not just to the late hour, but to the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything all day since the half an omlelet he’d scarfed at breakfast, the remainder of which had most likely been discarded by hotel housekeeping by then. Everything would be closed on Christmas and all he had at home was a frozen TV tray of spaghetti leftover from months ago when he’d first left Julia.
Not wanting to admit defeat, but unsure of how long he could stake out Steve’s apartment without sustenance, Brad reluctantly replied to his mom, not even caring that dinner was in an hour and she’d be furious with him for putting off telling her he was coming till the last minute.
I’ll be there in ten. Can I bring anything?He added the last part knowing she would tell him that she’d taken care of everything beforehand. She always took care of everything, and everyone, down to the last detail.
Wanting to do a better job than he did that morning, Brad searched the inside of his glove compartment for one of the two or three small notebooks and pens he always stored within reach. One of the hazards of being a writer. Now though, he was glad he had them, as he scribbled a note to Steve on the largest piece of paper he found.
Call me when you’re back. No shit, Steve. This is important. You owe me. Don’t make me bring up Katy.He tucked the note in Steve’s front door, certain this note wouldn’t be missed. The light from the complex turned on, lighting up the doorway and Brad’s face in the reflection of Steve’s window. It was almost dark already, he noted, wishing for the umpteenth time that it was summer, or at least spring. He missed the daylight and the added freedom it gave him before the town shrouded him in darkness each night. Shivering again, he ran back to his car, his hands in his pockets.
With a glance behind him, checking the road to Steve’s parking lot one last time, Brad cranked the heater on full blast, and made a U-turn. As he drove the six miles to his parents’ farm, Brad wondered what Sophie was doing at that moment. He’d have given anything for her to be there with him right then, especially as he saw the smirk on his mom’s face from her dining room window as he rolled up. She looked decidedly pleased he was coming solo, and the only thing he hated more than not being able to reach Sophie was giving his mother this win.
Brad was about to hunker down and head in when his phone rang. He launched at it, answering it before he even saw the caller ID.
“Hello?” he asked, his heart rate speeding up. He sounded like he’d run a marathon, he was so nervous. Where to start with her? The truth. That’s all he had going for him.
“Brad?”
Brad pulled the phone away from his ear, looked down at the screen, not sure he was hearing things right. It was his publisher. Or at least the guy they’d attached to Brad as their representative.
“Keith?” he asked.
“Merry Christmas, buddy.”
“You, too. What’s up? Is this about the manuscript, because I can have the pages to you by the first. I’m just wrapping things up.” In all the years Brad had known Keith and his team, they’d never called on a holiday. In fact, they rarely called at all, opting for email instead. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about why, now, they were reaching out to him.
“It’s about the manuscript, but not what you think. You sitting down?” For not the first time that day, Brad cursed into the cab of his truck.
“Yup. Give it to me straight, Keith.”
“We just got handed down an injunction on the book, on the whole goddamn series. Movies included.”
Brad’s hands shook as he forced himself to inhale and exhale with forced calm.
“On Christmas? Christ. Who?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.
“A one Julia Proulx and her husband, Chris.”
Chris?How’d he get involved in this whole thing? Of course Julia wouldn’t hesitate to make his life miserable just because hers had taken a turn for the worse, but he’d said a total of five sentences to Chris in a year and a half. He asked Keith as much. His publisher knew Brad’s ex from the early start of their working relationship.
“Actually, he’s the one who made the call a few minutes ago, and the official paperwork was close behind it. I don’t have much for you yet, and damn do I wish I had better news for you on Christmas, but I wanted you to have the heads-up. Don’t contact either of them—let us handle it. But you might want to reach out to a lawyer who can help you personally in case they take this to a civil court, which I hate to say happens more often than not. As for the book, this is just a setback. I don’t want you to worry.”
Brad chortled, a joyless cough that came out rough and loud in the otherwise silence of his cab. How was he not supposed to worry when in a matter of hours Julia had stolen everything that had ever mattered to him, besides his family? Though as he thought about it, she’d done her best to set that camp on fire as well.Fuck.
“Did they say why?” he asked Keith, his voice quiet but gravely.
