Play It Safe

  “It’ll be a lot more fine when you have two hundred and seventy K in the bank. So fine, I bet you can use that money to pay off the note in full and get out from under that weight. And, by the way,” I added, “if, God willing, Mrs. Cody lives past her tenure that I paid for at that home, they’re doing their part then too.”

  “They’re out of it.”

  “It’s impossible to be out of it!” I cried. “They’re family.”

  “Ivey, you are not goin’ to The Alibi.”

  “I most certainly am.”

  “You definitely are not.”

  “Gray –”

  “Ivey.”

  “Gray!”

  “Ivey.”

  And there we were.

  It must be said, I was Lash’s fake girlfriend for years and I never fought with him.

  And I thought at that juncture Gray should know that.

  “You know, I was Lash’s fake girlfriend for years and I never fought with him. Three days into living with you, we’re at it.”

  Gray snapped his mouth shut, his jaw flexed, his eyes flashed then a muscle jumped in his cheek. Watching it I realized what I just said and that, even though Lash was gay, he’d had me for nearly the entire seven years Gray did not including four years of that in his bed.

  And I knew Gray felt that, deeply.

  Therefore, I was a total idiot.

  Shit.

  My mind was working through ways to make things right and/or apologize when Gray surged out of his seat, rounded the corner of the table and pulled me out of mine into his arms.

  I was bracing, considering I thought this odd and had no clue where it was going when I felt his body shaking and I was tipping my head back to look up at him when he burst out laughing.

  I blinked.

  Still laughing, he dipped his chin and looked at me.

  “Glad to hear you got on so well with your fake boyfriend.”

  He wasn’t mad.

  Still.

  “That was a shit thing to say, Gray, and I shouldn’t have said it,” I said quietly.

  “It true?” he asked.

  “Well, yeah,” I answered.

  “Were you pissed?”

  “Well, uh…yeah.”

  “Ivey, honey, I could let myself go down the path of envy about the time that guy had with you and let that shit fester in my gut until it becomes bitter and leaks out to you. Instead, I’ve decided to be pleased as fuck you found a decent man to look out for you when I wasn’t around to do it. You guys got along, way I see it, it’s like gettin’ along with your best girlfriend. I know he’s a guy and, lookin’ at him, first instinct is to stake my claim. But he’s not about that and I gotta learn that because with you comes him.”

  Now I remembered why I loved Gray.

  He wasn’t done.

  “Furthermore, if you actually were fuckin’ him, you’d argue. No doubt about it. Since you’re fuckin’ me, dollface, get ready because we can’t have what we have in bed without some of that passion leaking out into life. You have opinions, I will too, they clash, we’ll battle our corners. Just as long as we go to bed in the same bed every night and eventually find a way to sort our shit, we’ll be good.”

  “But, we didn’t fight before, Gray,” I whispered.

  His face softened with understanding before his equally soft voice replied, “First, seven years ago, you were findin’ your way to you. Now you’ve found you. The badass showgirl is out.” He grinned and gave me a squeeze. “And second, we lucked out. You had so much other shit goin’ on, that took focus so we didn’t have anything to fight about. My uncles were assholes back then and if we didn’t see eye-to-eye about how to deal with them, I hope you were or eventually would be in a place to tell me what was on your mind even if I didn’t agree with it and it ended with us having words.”

  Yeah, I remembered why I loved Gray.

  “Okay,” I said softly and his face dipped closer, turning serious.

  “You’re home, Ivey. You’re safe here to do what you want, eat what you want to eat, be who you wanna be and you’re safe with me. Always. To do all that, you gotta just be you and feel free to speak your mind.”

  Yep, totally remembered why I loved Gray.

  “So, are you cool with me going to The Alibi?” I asked.

  He grinned and I got another squeeze.

  But he answered, “No.”

  I was relaxing into him but at his word, I tensed.

  He kept talking.

  “But I can’t tie you to the fencepost so you do what you gotta do. Now, I say that knowin’ that they are no way in hell gonna give you ninety K, not a one of them. So it’s a waste of your time but you don’t mind wastin’ it, it’s your time, not for me to say.”

  “What if I get them to give me the money?” I asked.

  “They won’t.”

  “Do they have it?”

  “Those miserly bastards?” he asked.

  “Uh…yeah,” I answered uncertainly because I didn’t know if they were miserly or not.

  “They have it.”

  “So…?” I trailed off.

  “They won’t give you the money.”

  “And if they do?”

  Gray studied me.

  Then he muttered, “We’ll see.”

  Truly, I didn’t know if that was a win, loss or stalemate in the fight stakes. I was going to do what I wanted to do and Gray was convinced it was a fruitless effort.

  So, I guessed we would see.

  And thus endeth our first fight.

  It wasn’t that bad and the best part about it, just like when he had an out-and-out with Grandma Miriam years ago, after it was done, it was done. We stretched out, cuddling on the couch in front of the TV. Then we stretched out not cuddling but doing other things in bed. Then after we were done with those things, we lay in bed cuddling and whispering about our days and what the next day would bring.

  Then we slept and we did that cuddling too.

  Chapter Thirty

  Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

  One and a half weeks later…

  Like the last time I hit Mustang, it happened and it happened quickly.

  I found my place easily.

  Slotted right in.

  And that place was with Gray on his land and it was being the me I’d come to be.

  So there I was, in the grocery store in Mustang in my classy, high-heeled sandals, my designer jeans and a sophisticated but casual top. I’d dumped my big, designer bag in the child seat in the cart. I had makeup on, had spritzed with expensive perfume and my hair was long and wild like Gray liked it.

  And I was in this getup perusing the grocery shelves in a small town on the plains of Colorado because this was me.

  And there was a new part of me coming out seeing as all things to do with the ranch didn’t involve horseshit.

  First, I took over feeding the horses. This wasn’t tough. I was getting to know the horses so I knew which to feed what but it did take time. Time Gray was glad he could use doing something else.

  Second, once Gray taught me how, I took over releasing them from their stalls and leading them into the big paddocks Gray had so they could get some sunshine, walk around and be free.

  Third, Gray restarted my horseback riding lessons and did it by taking me riding with him when he rode the ranch, further helping him keep the horses exercised but also helping me learn the lay of the land.

  Fourth, he’d called Macy and released her from cleaning duties and I took over that, grocery buying and cooking.

  Fifth, I took over the phones. Gray got a lot of calls about his peaches, his horses and his stallions who he loaned out and charged stud fees. He started telling folks who called his cell to call the house, gave me a crash course in breeding and peaches. I took to it easy as I took to everything easy and I dealt with them.

  Sixth, I took over paying the bills and doing the ranch accounts. I had a head for figures and I had the time and Gray didn’t so h
e had no problem relinquishing this to me so he did.

  And last, Gray taught me how to drive the small riding mower he had so I also took over mowing the front lawn and the areas around the house.

  I’d also taken the time to clean out Gray’s truck and I was right. He hadn’t tidied since I left, or if he did, he did a half-assed job, and I had the date on an old receipt as proof.

  I threw myself into my new rancher’s stylish girlfriend role and loved it. I could wear my high heels into town, my western duds while out with the horses and work on my tan by wearing one of my bikini tops and short-shorts while on the riding lawn mower.

  Gray loved it too (especially me wearing my bikini top on the lawn mower).

  I knew this because his days went from being ten hours long to eight. I knew this also because I made Gray a blueberry cobbler that I served warm with gourmet ice cream and he told me it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. I further knew this when he walked by the vase of flowers I’d put on the cabinet under the window in the kitchen, stopped, looked at it awhile then looked at me grinning.

  And I knew this because he told me so.

  The more I learned, the more we lived together, the more I settled. I knew where my new place would be in Mustang – at Gray’s side, doing my bit to work the ranch. And, if we could swing it financially, that was where I’d stay making sure my man got what he needed while doing my part.

  I loved it.

  Every second.

  So, surprisingly, green acres was the place for me.

  The only blight on the last week and a half was the Tuesday after Gray and I had our first fight. After he was done working, he took a shower and we got takeaway pulled pork sandwiches from The Rambler and took them to Grandma Miriam.

  Although Gray again tried to calm me, I was anxious about seeing her. I left Gray but she had one son who was left behind by the love of his life and then she had a grandson it happened to too. She loved Gray and I figured Grandma Miriam might not be forgiving even after what I’d done to save the land.

  But when we made it to her room, my anxiety disappeared and something else far more difficult to deal with took its place.

  Because there was a reason Gray had to put his Gran in a home and one look at her, I saw it.

  The seven years had not been kind to her. She’d lost weight, she’d gained wrinkles and the flash of matriarch bossiness in her eyes had disappeared. Gray had told me that time had marched fast for Grandma Miriam and it had done it marching all over her and he hadn’t lied. She had pain from her spinal injury and that and age just wore her down. She started losing strength and having more and more troubles doing things for herself.

  But even knowing this, I was not prepared for just how frail she was. How the life seemed to have seeped right out of her and seeing it, it knocked me emotionally to my knees.

  I hid it because the other thing I noted instantly was that she was far more anxious at seeing me. So much so she appeared terrified.

  And this was because Gray told her everything. She knew he and I had been played, she knew what I’d done to save her and the ranch and seven years ago, she put the phone down on me five times. She knew we’d been played but still, she felt responsible for keeping us apart by being stubborn and ornery.

  It took awhile to talk her around, make her understand that I didn’t blame her, I got it that she, like Gray, was flashing back to Gray’s Mom and this taking so much effort hurt too. Because the Grandma Miriam I knew would let this sink in, snap back and then start being bossy.

  She didn’t.

  The visit went as well as it could. She wasn’t needy or whiney. She seemed in good spirits. She just wasn’t the woman I knew.

  Though, she did have it in her to mutter, “Pleased to see you in a skirt and heels, child, though that skirt is a little tight.”

  That was the only flicker of Grandma Miriam she gave me.

  And this devastated me.

  So much, I was virtually silent on the drive home. Gray asked if I was okay and when I lied to him that I was and he didn’t believe me, he let it go but asked for my hand and held it all the way home. I just sat in his truck staring at the passing landscape, letting the visit seep into me.

  When we got home, I changed into jeans, got a glass of wine and went to the porch swing.

  About two minutes later, carrying a bottle of beer, Gray joined me.

  Shifting me then settling me with my back to the side of his front, his arm around my chest, my head on his shoulder, he murmured, “Talk to me, Ivey.”

  “She isn’t her,” I whispered.

  “Told you that, honey.”

  He did. He’d never put her in a home if there was a little spitfire left, I knew that anyway. But still, he told me what to expect.

  “You’re you and I’m me,” I went on to explain. “You’re thirty-three, still hot, still vital, still Gray and I’m still me. She’s not her.”

  “Ivey –” he started but I interrupted him, tears gathering in my eyes.

  “Whoever did this to us, they took that away from me. I got you back but her I lost. I know she declined, I just saw it but it was slow and I wasn’t here for her and now it’s done and I’ll never get that back. I got you back but I’ll never get that back and that hurts me, Gray. In the end, she liked me, she trusted me and she could have come to love me and I was already growing to love her. They took that away from her and they took that from me and it hurts.”

  Gray drew in an audible breath as his arm gave me a squeeze but he didn’t reply.

  Then again, there was nothing to say. I spoke the truth, he knew it and there was nothing either of us could do.

  So I just lifted my legs, knees cocked so my soles were on the porch swing beside me, my weight in Gray and he held me and sipped his beer while I sipped my wine, My eyes were on the meadow beside his house where the horses were wandering, the tears I was shedding for losing Grandma Miriam silently rolling down my cheeks.

  Thus visits to Grandma Miriam as often as I could were added to my schedule. I couldn’t go every day but since my first visit, I’d been there four times. I didn’t stay hours but I brought her flowers then a box of chocolates then a plant to spruce up her room then a book because she liked reading. I sat with her, I chatted with her, I held her delicate hand with its loose papery skin and liver spots. I tried to make her laugh and often got a smile. And I did this because the woman I knew for a short time who I liked and respected might be gone but this woman remained and I was going to give as much as I could and take as much as I could get in the time remaining.

  And doing it, my decision to have it out with Gray’s uncles had been firm but it was then planted in concrete. Okay, so they may never pay Gray what I thought they owed him. But they’d get a piece of my mind.

  I hadn’t yet done that because I knew I was so pissed I’d probably screw it up. And anyway, I had other stuff to do to look out for me, for Gray and settle in our new life together.

  So there I was, wandering through the grocery store, our menus planned for the next several days, a grocery list resting on top of my purse and my cart filled with what we’d need.

  Mustang’s grocery store, called Plack’s, was like everything else in Mustang. One town over, a town Gray told me was established about a decade after Mustang, was different. Mustang was day, that town, the town of Elk, was night. Mustang might be the county seat but Elk was the hub. They didn’t mind demolishing and rebuilding. They had two strip malls, a huge-ass cinema with six screens, massive home and do-it-yourself stores and two big, chain grocery stores.

  But not Mustang. Mustang didn’t have anything like that. And the citizens of Mustang didn’t care. Except to use the cinema (where I’d gone with Gray when I was there before), Mustangians stuck to their patch. Thus everyone in Mustang went to Plack’s.

  The hotel was on the southeast corner of the courthouse square, the elementary school at the southwest, the library at the northeast and Plack’s at the northwest
.

  It had not been built in 1912. By the looks of it, I’d guess the 70’s. And it had never been renovated. The building was small for a grocery store, the aisles were narrow and the shelves were packed. But, with increasing experience, I noticed they had everything. They might only have a couple of boxes of cake mix rather than a stacked row but they still had every type you could buy. Not that I got cake mixes. I was the stylish girlfriend to a rancher cowboy. I might wear high heels but I still baked cakes from scratch.

  Seeing as they had everything you might need, you didn’t need a big chain store that also had a pharmacy and sold toys, homewares and inexpensive clothes if you had Plack’s. And anyway, the pharmacy was on the square and you could get toys, homewares and (it had to be said) not inexpensive clothes at Hayes.

  So I was in Plack’s contentedly dwelling in my rancher cowboy’s stylish girlfriend zone, perusing the chiller cabinet cheese selection looking for crumbled bleu to put on the steaks I was going to be broiling that night when it happened.

  I heard someone call, “Ivey.”

  My head came up, my fingers around a package of bleu cheese (see? they had everything at Plack’s) and I saw Cecily in the company of a girlfriend bearing down on me.

  Shit.

  Gray and I had gone into town a couple of times to have a beer at The Rambler so I had the opportunity to get updated on gossip. Not to mention, being together for two weeks, Gray and I had time to talk with each other.

  I knew what had happened to his trees. I knew what had happened to his horses. And I knew that Gray (rightly) suspected Buddy. And I knew this freaked me out but I sensed Gray needed me to keep it together. Someone was poisoning his horses; he didn’t need to worry about me.

  I also knew that Buddy and Cecily got married about a year after I left. I further knew they had two children, both girls. And I knew that Buddy had gone from loan manager to branch manager and now he was Vice President of the four branches of the bank that were in the next county. So I knew (but had not seen) that Buddy and Cecily lived in a “God awful monstrosity” (Janie’s words) on the eastern outskirts of Mustang opposite Gray’s ranch. They lived large for Mustang and didn’t hesitate lording it over the entire town.