Page 44 of Seaside Cowboy's Fairy Tale

The dog barked, and as Tex couldn’t understand that language, he translated it favorably as a yes.

A few times, he nearly turned around and headed back to Rachel’s apartment, but a promise, even given to a dog, was still a promise.

Some people had called him brilliant. But with all his brilliant mind, he couldn’t come up with a solution. He’d been burned before, but Rachel was worth the risk of getting burned again.

Could his abused heart survive a second break?

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“He brooooooke up withme!” Rachel couldn’t stop the stream of tears from flowing over her cheeks as she sat in the armchair and tasted their saltiness. When was the last time she’d cried? Even as much as she’d been hurt in childhood, she’d never had her heart crushed before.

Kennedy, who knelt in front of her, handed Rachel more tissues and exchanged worried glances with Irene. “I’m ready to punch my brother-in-law in the face. And I’m not a violent person.”

“I wouldn’t be so fast.” Irene brought a glass of water and handed it to Rachel.

“It wasn’t his fault! Okay, maybe somewhat. I’m not at liberty to explaaaaaain.” Rachel wailed and hiccupped, then took the glass, its surface cold and smooth under her fingertips. The glass shook in her hands.

“You being this upset can’t be good for your recovery.” Kennedy glanced sideways at Rachel’s sling.

“I knooooooow.” Rachel tried to take a sip, but the glass clanked against her teeth.

Irene held it up to Rachel’s lips, and the cloudiness in her gray eyes deepened. “Would you like something else? To eat, maybe? I can hire a nurse to change your bandages.”

“Noooooo! Not hungry!” Rachel would probably never get anything past the gigantic lump in her throat again. “And I don’t caaaare about the bandages.” She must sound like a capricious child, but it didn’t matter. Besides, she’d never gotten the chance to be a capricious child when she’d been growing up.

A line appeared between Irene’s gray eyebrows, but she nodded. “Do you want our compassion, advice, or action?”

Rachel took several sips of the cold liquid Irene offered. “Thank you.” It wasn’t the fresh-squeezed orange juice Tex made for her, but it would have to do. Crimson-hued roses on the dresser mocked her turmoil. Who said red roses were the symbol of love? The guy not only didn’t love her but also didn’t care for her at all. “Compassion, please.” Huh. Talk about childish. She’d always been more practical. “Maybeadvice.”

Kennedy exhaled a long breath. “Good. Because I wasn’t looking forward to punching my brother-in-law in the face. Mainly because I don’t want to create problems for Austin.” She got up from the floor, hugged Rachel, then let her go. “I’m sorry this happened to you. Praying Tex comes to his senses and sees what a treasure you are.”

Irene rubbed her temples, her gaze thoughtful. “What if he already sees that? A man like Tex Lawrence doesn’t drop everything to deep clean someone’s apartment and change her bandages if he doesn’t care about that someone very, very much.”

Rachel brightened. Then her shoulders slumped again. Yet gratitude stirred in her that she now had people in her life who could pick her up from the floor and keep her going.

“Not anymooooooore.” Rachel hiccupped again, and Irene held up the glass to Rachel’s lips while she drank. “I ruined everything. He thinks he was just a job to me. And he was. But only at first.”

Kennedy blinked. “I don’t understand.”

Rachel sent her friend an apologetic glance. “I can’t tell you the details. I’m sorry. Client privilege.”

“Did you tell him how you feel about him now?” Irene carried the empty glass to the sink. She’d guessed more than she’d let on.

Rachel searched her memory, then got up, and plucked Button out of the cage. He’d started running inside it irrationally as if sensing her mood. Her legs felt like cooked noodles, so she sank back into the armchair. Button perched on her shoulder, not running any longer. “I told him he became more than a job to me.”

“That’s it?” Kennedy settled on the carpet and wrapped her arms around her legs. “My experience with men is mostly limited to Austin, but even I know we women need to spell out things for men. We think they can read our minds, but they can’t. Me holding back nearly ended in a disaster for my marriage.”

“You know the way I grew up.” Tears filled Rachel’s eyes again, burning her eye sockets. Button tickled her cheek with his whiskers, and it had always made her smile, but not this time. The mouse ran down her unharmed hand, then back to her shoulder, tiny paws ticklish. The sharp pain in her heart became duller, but it was still nearly unbearable. Even her arm ached less than her heart. “I have difficulty trusting people. Difficulty allowing myself to love people.”

But so did Kennedy, and look at her now.

Rachel swallowed hard. “I’ll never have the chance to tell him anything anyway.”

“I wouldn’t be so fast,” Irene said again.

The knock on the door made all three of them look up. Hope stirred in Rachel, but she stifled it. “It’d better not be some box I didn’t order.” She groaned as she attempted to get up from the armchair.

Kennedy waved for her to stay seated. “I’ll open the door.” After she’d glanced in the peephole, she whirled around. “It’s Tex. Holding a dog, for some reason. Do you still want me to open the door?”

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