Cowboys & Navy SEALs

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Brooke held up the red dress and looked in the mirror. Too ostentatious. She reached for the black one and held it up. Too boring . She sighed heavily and reached for the blue. Too typical . She threw the dress down on the heap of other dresses piled atop her bed. She strode to her bedroom door and threw open the door. “Louisa!” she called. “I need you!”

No answer.

She cursed under her breath. Was the silly girl hard of hearing? “Louisa!” she screeched. “I need you NOW!”

Finally, after the fifth time of yelling her name, Louisa scurried into the room. “You called me, ma’am?” she said timidly, not daring to look Brooke in the eye.

“It’s about time!” Brooke grumbled, giving her a scathing look. “I’ve been calling and calling! Where were you? Are you deaf?”

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, “I was cleaning the kitchen downstairs and didn’t hear you. I ran up here as fast as I could.”

“Probably because you were blasting that salsa music you love so much. At any rate, I would certainly appreciate it if you came the first time I called,” she snipped.

Louisa nodded. “What do you need?”

Brooke made a face. “What does it look like?” She motioned at the mound of dresses. “Help finding a dress for tonight. I’m going out with Sheldon, and I want to look perfect.” She trailed her fingers through her long hair as she stepped up to the mirror. “I need a second opinion.”

Gracie and Gertrude were standing off to the side, watching the scene unfold. Gracie’s hands went to her hips as she turned to Gertrude. “When you said you had something important to show me, I dropped what I was working on and came along.” She blew out a breath. “Now I’ll never get the report done in time to meet Stewart’s deadline.” She motioned toward Brooke. “You brought me here to see this? Really?”

Gertrude gave her a hard look. “First of all, your work for Stewart is secondary—a means to an end. Brooke is your assignment. She should be your primary concern.”

“Yes, I know, you’ve told me that a hundred times! But do I really need to witness her berating the poor maid? The poor woman must really need this job. Otherwise, she’d tell Brooke just where she could stick it!”

“Just watch.” She pushed her glasses up on her nose. “And be patient.”

Louisa reached for the blue dress. “This one would set off your eyes.”

Brooke crossed her arms over her chest. “You think so?”

“Absolutely.” Louisa smiled.

“No, I don’t like it. It’s too ordinary.”

Louisa nodded and then went into the walk-in closet. A minute later, she emerged, holding a shimmering gold dress. “How about this one?”

Brooke practically jerked it out of her hands and held it up for inspection. “You think so?”

“The gold will highlight your hair. And the short length will emphasize your legs.”

“Too bad you can’t give her something that will help with the rotten personality,” Gracie quipped.

Brooke held the dress up to her. “Yes, maybe you’re right. It does bring out my highlights.” She paused, studying her reflection in the mirror. “Do you think Sheldon will like it?”

At that point, Gracie was unable to hold it in a moment longer. She belted out a harsh laugh. “Oh, don’t you wish! Sheldon’s just using you to get back at me. He cares nothing for you!”

Before Gertrude could reprimand her, Brooke spun around, glaring at Louisa. “Were you laughing at me?”

Panic filled Louisa’s eyes as she stepped back, winding her hands in her apron. “No, ma’am. I would never laugh at you.”

Brooke scoped the room. “I distinctly heard laughter.”

Shock bolted through Gracie as she turned to Gertrude and whispered, “Did she hear me?”

Concern etched Gertrude’s features as she also whispered, “I don’t know. Say something else.”

“The gold dress makes your hair look brassy!” Gracie said loudly. “The only reason Louisa recommended it is because you’re so nasty that she can’t stand the sight of you!”

Brooke and Louisa continued as though nothing had happened. Relief washed over Gertrude. “I suppose it was nothing. She probably heard someone downstairs.”

“Yeah … probably,” Gracie said, but she got the feeling there was more to it than that.

“Okay,” Brooke said, “I’ll wear the gold dress. It’ll look great with my dangly gold earrings.”

“Yes,” Louisa agreed, “you’ll look beautiful.”

“I always look beautiful,” Brooke sniffed, tossing her hair.

Gracie was stunned. This was a new low, even for Brooke. “Did she really just say that?”

Gertrude’s lips vanished into a thin, hard line.

“Yes ma’am,” Louisa muttered. She moved to leave. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go. My son has a program at his school this evening.”

Brooke’s face fell. “But you can’t leave! Who’s going to clean up this mess?” She motioned to the dresses, which were strewn over the bed and nearby chair.

“You have two hands! Maybe you could try cleaning it up!” Gracie said.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Louisa stammered, looking down at the floor, “but I informed Mrs. Matthews last week that I would be leaving early today. I can clean it up now, if you would like.”

Brooke thrust out her lower lip. “Don’t bother. I’ll do it myself. Utterly incompetent!” she muttered, shooting Louisa a disdainful look. “Just go!”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m so sorry.” Louisa gave her a curt nod as she hurried from the room.

Brooke turned her attention back to the mirror. She felt a smidgen guilty for treating Louisa so harshly. After all, she wasn’t really upset with Louisa as much as she was simply annoyed with the situation. She and Sheldon had gone out on three dates. Things had gone well on the surface, but she kept getting the nagging feeling he was simply going through the motions. She was so accustomed to guys falling at her feet that she could hardly fathom why Sheldon wasn’t falling in line. Then again, Sheldon was a cut above most guys. With looks like his, he could have his pick of any girl.

Her thoughts went to her daddy’s demon secretary. She was convinced that she was really Gracie, but how could she prove it? When she’d questioned her daddy about her, all he wanted to do was sing her praises, going on about what a great listener she was and how everyone at the agency loved her. She may have pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes, but she wouldn’t fool her!

After leaving the agency, she’d gone straight home to do some digging. She’d tried to find a website, but there wasn’t one. She couldn’t find a number either. Strange. It had been relatively easy to find information on the inn when she went looking for Dawson there. It was as if the place had vanished into thin air. She even resorted to calling local businesses in Midway to ask about the inn. According to the people she spoke to, the inn was closed and on the verge of being torn down. Something strange was going on, and she felt it was somehow connected to Gracie … or Alice … or whatever her name was.

“Knock, knock.” Her mother entered the room. She was holding a rolled-up newspaper in her hand. “My, my. It looks like a tornado tore through here,” she said dryly.

“I’ve been trying to find a dress for tonight,” Brooke countered defensively.

“Yes, I can see that.” She strode over to the chair in the corner and grabbed the bundle of dresses. She deposited them on the bed and then sat down in the chair, crossing her long legs. “You were a little hard on Louisa, weren’t you? She was nearly in tears when she left.”

Brooke made a face. “I can’t help it if she’s incompetent.”

She let out a long sigh. “You could at least pretend to tolerate Louisa. Do you realize what a difficult time I’ve had getting good help? You ran the last two off.”

A hard amusement came over Brooke’s face. “Excuse me? I ran them off?” She shook her head, chuckling. “That was all you, Mother. Nothing was ever good enough for you. The beds weren’t made correctly, the silver not polished often enough, the bathrooms not sanitized. The list goes on and on.”

A petulant scowl formed on the older woman’s beautiful face as she waved a hand. “I’d rather not go into all of that, if you don’t mind.”

“Wow, I can’t believe how much Brooke looks like her mother,” Gracie said, wide-eyed. The woman was about Brooke’s same height and size, but her hair was short. Judging from the plastic look of her face, she’d had more than a few surgeries in an attempt to preserve her youthful appearance. It was like catching a glimpse into the future and seeing Brooke. “What’s her name?”

“Her full name is Evelyn,” Gertrude said, “but she goes by Evie.”

Evie leaned forward and patted the bed. “Have a seat.”

Brooke shook her head. “Sorry, Mother, I wish I could, but I’m in a hurry. I have to get ready for my date.” Her phone buzzed, and she reached for it. “That’s probably Sheldon, saying he’s on his way.” As she read the text, her face fell.

“What’s wrong?”

Brooke cursed under her breath and dropped the phone on the dresser, where it made a loud clunk. “It’s Sheldon. He can’t go out tonight.”

“Really? Why not?” Evie said, frowning.

Brooke sat down on the bed, a dazed look on her face. “He said something came up. He left town and doesn’t know when he’ll be back.” Tears formed in her eyes.

A feeling of exultation swelled over Gracie, and she almost punched a fist in the air … until she realized Gertrude was standing next to her. She ignored the look of reproof on Gertrude’s face and turned her attention to Brooke and Evie.

“Well, it’s probably for the best. We don’t know anything about him … except that he’s pretty.” She arched an eyebrow. “And, honey bun, trust me when I say that dating a man who’s prettier than you is asking for trouble.”

“Sheldon is not prettier than me!” She gave her mother a worried look. “He’s not, is he?”

Evie studied her carefully. “Well, your hair is looking a little dry. What kind of conditioner are you using?”

Brooke touched her hair. “My usual.” She made a face. “Do you really think it’s dry?”

Evie nodded. “A little. How’s your diet and exercise? Your face looks a tad puffy. Maybe you should up your cardio classes to five days a week.”

Gracie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Outrage twisted over her as she turned to Gertrude. “She’s ripping her daughter apart! What kind of mother does that? No wonder Brooke’s such a monster!”

“Yes, I’ll add another cardio class,” Brooke said dully.

“Well, it couldn’t hurt,” Evie chirped.

Brooke was unprepared for the hurt that pelted over her. “How could Sheldon just up and leave without telling me?” A sense of loss flooded her, and she had the feeling she was experiencing the break-up with Dawson all over again.

“You’re probably better off without that Sheldon fellow anyway,” Evie said. “Any man that sends you a text to tell you he’s not coming is certainly not worth crying over.”

Brooke merely nodded, but she couldn’t stop a tear from escaping and rolling down her cheek. She motioned, trying to change the subject. “What’s that?”

Evie gave her a sly smile. “Something that I think you’ll be very interested to see.” She unrolled the newspaper and handed it to Brooke.

It took a moment for Brooke’s eyes to register what she was seeing. Her breath caught. In the blink of an eye, the past came rushing back with a vengeance, making her dizzy. Her chest constricted, making it hard to get a good breath. How well she remembered the sharp angle of his stubborn jaw and the savage look of victory in his eyes. He was wearing his trademark cowboy hat with strands of his golden blonde hair peeking out, and his long legs were clad in jeans and chaps. He was lifting the bull rope high in the air, an arrogant grin on his face. The headline read: “Ft. Worth’s own Nash Rigby rides the undefeated Sledgehammer.” The article went on to say that Nash was making a name for himself in the professional bull riding circuit. He’d ranked #7 the previous year and was poised to take a top position this year. Anger blurred her vision, and she began blinking rapidly to stay the tears. “Why are you showing me this?”

Not affected in the slightest by her daughter’s caustic attitude, Evie began fiddling with her long fingernails. “I thought you’d want to see what your old friend was up to.”

Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “I couldn’t care less what Nash Rigby is up to!” she ground out through clenched teeth, thrusting the paper at her mother.

Evie gave her a knowing look. “I see.”

“See what?” Brooke fired back.

“You do still have feelings for him.”

She gasped. “I do not!”

“You and I both know that the only reason you started going out with Dawson was because you were on the rebound from Nash. Y’all were good together.”

“Really? Well, you didn’t think that when we were dating!”

“I don’t remember having said that,” Evie said stiffly.

“You certainly did!” Brooke retorted. “Let’s see, I believe your exact words were that he was a ‘money-grubbing, no-count cowboy’ and not nearly good enough for your only daughter.” Bitterness rose up like bile in her throat as she eyed her mother.

Evie broke eye contact and started picking at a spot on her dress. “Well, if I said that, then I was mistaken.”

Her mother was notorious for flip-flopping on topics in order to suit her whims of the moment, but Brooke wasn’t about to let this one slide. “Let me guess, now that you realize Nash is making a name for himself and becoming a celebrity, then he’s suddenly worthy of me.” She made a flourish with her wrist. “I suppose that would make an interesting topic amongst your friends at the club—to have a daughter who’s dating a world-ranked bull rider.” She shook her head in disgust. “You really are too transparent, Mother.”

Evie’s head shot up. “How dare you!” she seethed, her face flaming. “If you must know, Luther Rigby came to the house yesterday.”

“What did he want?” Her shoulders tensed. Luther was Nash’s father and a longtime friend of her daddy. In fact, before Nash went off the deep end and traded in his normal life for bull riding, he’d been an intern at SM Creative Agency, which is how he and Brooke first met. As far as her daddy was concerned, Nash was the son he never had. He’d taken him in and trained him as his protégée. In fact, her daddy had taken it almost as hard as she had when Nash threw everything to the wind and chose another life.

“Luther’s ranch is failing, and he asked Stewart for a loan to keep them afloat.”

“Really? That’s odd. I would’ve thought that Nash’s winnings would be enough to keep the ranch going.”

Her mother clucked her tongue. “For someone who doesn’t care a hoot about Nash Rigby, you certainly seem to know a lot about him.”

“I don’t know anything,” she huffed. “I’m just guessing.”

She gave her a shrewd look. “Sure you are, darling,” she purred. “Anyway, Luther left this newspaper, and it caught my attention.” Her voice took on a tender note. “At the end of the day, after all is said and done, I only want what’s best for you.”

A grim smile slid over Brooke’s face. Her mother was a master at pulling the heartstrings, but it wasn’t going to work this time. “And what’s best for you. That’s why you insist that I look perfect all of the time, isn’t it? I’m the pretty little feather in your cap.” Even though she knew it wasn’t wise to back her mother into a corner, she couldn’t seem to help herself.

True to form, Evie came out fighting. “You are way out of line! I can’t help it if the world judges us by how we look! That’s just the way it is.”

“Don’t you think it’s possible that someone might actually want me for me? I hope I have some value other than my looks.” Her voice broke, and she hiccupped to choke back a sob. Every time she so much as broached the topic of going back to school and finishing her degree, her mother balked, saying she would be a fish out of water and that it wasn’t about how much education she obtained, but rather her social standing and the amount of money she had. For so many years, she’d bought into her mother’s drivel, but now she was starting to think she should’ve listened more to her daddy, who encouraged her to sharpen her mind and learn new skills. No doubt, following down her mother’s path had been the easier way, but it left her empty and unfulfilled.

“Oh, sugar plum,” Evie cooed. “I don’t mean to sound harsh. Do you know how lucky you are? You are stunningly beautiful with a perfect figure. I would kill to still have that body,” she said enviously. “Stop trying to be something you’re not, and work with the assets you have.” She pushed the paper at Brooke. “Don’t limit your possibilities because of your silly pride.” A wry smile spread over her lips. “And yes, if we’re speaking matter-of-factly, the fact that he’s an up-and-coming star doesn’t hurt.”

A futile frustration boiled inside of Brooke. Talking to her mother was like trying to reason with a mule. “Nash and I are over,” she said flatly, tossing the paper aside. “He left me, Mother. End of story.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes.

“Quit playing the martyr. Nash didn’t leave you. You were the best thing that ever happened to him. He was lucky you gave him the time of day. He went through a hard time when his mother passed away. If only you’d been patient and waited for him to come around, then things would’ve been different. But the moment Dawson came into town and started working for your father, you latched onto him. Classic rebound.”

Brooke let out an incredulous laugh. “Really? You’re twisting this thing around, so that it’s my fault?” She jumped up. “Nash left me!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She reached for the paper, wadded it up, and threw it across the room. “Dawson left me! Maybe it’s because I’m fat with dry hair! I hate them both!”

Evie held up her hands. “Calm down and stop acting like a baby,” she snapped. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”

Before Brooke could answer, Evie cocked her head, listening. “Was that the doorbell?”

“Oh, who cares!”

“Shh!” she hissed, craning her ears.

The bell chimed again.

She jumped up, her eyes twinkling. “It just might be your lucky day. Just don’t do anything stupid!”

Her mother wasn’t making a lick of sense. “What?”

“Come on. Let’s answer it.” Evie rushed out the door, dragging Brooke with her.

“Stop!” Brooke hissed, digging in her heels. Her mother was up to something. “What’s going on here?”

She flashed a mysterious smile. “You’ll see.”

This wasn’t going to end well. Not well at all. Despite her better judgment, Brooke allowed her mother to pull her down the stairs, to the front door. Before she opened it, she turned and gave Brooke the once-over. “I wish we’d had time to change your clothes.” She licked a finger and began using it to smooth down Brooke’s hair.

Brooke batted her hand and stepped back. “What’re you doing? Have you lost your mind?”

“I guess that’s about as good as it’s going to get right now,” Evie said, shaking her head. Then she did what Brooke called the Evie two-step—she straightened her shoulders and plastered on the beauty pageant smile that earned her the Miss Texas title when she was in her twenties. Brooke could feel trouble coming on like a raging tornado. Before she could stop her, Evie threw open the door. “Well, Nash Rigby, this is a surprise,” she drawled in a voice that would’ve melted sugar. “It’s so good to see you.” She took his arm, practically pulling him inside. “That bull riding has been treating you well. You look fantastic.”

Brooke just stood there, bug-eyed. It was like her worst nightmare was materializing right before her very eyes. Blood was pumping so furiously through her head that she felt dizzy. She wanted to be anywhere but here.

Evie was a pro at playing the perfect hostess. She looked at Brooke with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

“Hello,” she mumbled, her face tomato red.

Nash’s expression was strained, and he looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “Hey,” he said softly. His eyes met hers, and he gave her a tentative smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah … you too.” The very sight of him in her foyer evoked a world of hurt. She’d opened her heart to him in a way that she’d never done with anyone else, and he’d rejected her. She would never get over it, and she certainly wouldn’t forgive him.

Evie motioned. “You two go on into the living room. I’ll make some lemonade.”

Lemonade? A hysterical laugh bubbled up in Brooke’s throat. She doubted very seriously that her mother even knew how to make lemonade.

“Oh, I can’t stay,” Nash said quickly. “I’m just dropping off some information, about the ranch, for Stewart. My dad asked me to get it to him today.”

“Nonsense,” Evie countered, “I won’t take no for an answer.”

The panicked look on Nash’s face rekindled Brooke’s anger. For a split second, she felt like he was rejecting her all over again. And her mother’s little charade had gone on long enough. Rage boiled over her to the point where she was barely cognizant of the words that exploded from her mouth. “Oh, just let him go, Mother. The only reason Nash is even here is because he needs money to save his father’s ranch! He doesn’t care about your lemonade, and he cares even less about me!”

Evie gulped like she’d been punched. “Brooke! That’s no way to treat our guest!” She turned to Nash. “I’m so sorry.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No apology necessary, ma’am. Some things never change.” He gave Brooke a penetrating look. “And for the record, you’re wrong. I do care. I always have.”

“Well, you certainly have a funny way of showing it,” she flung back.

Nash held the manila envelope out to Evie. “Please give this to Stewart.” He looked at Brooke. “And just so you know—there’s no shame in asking for help from a trusted friend. All we’re asking for is a loan, which we will pay back with interest. Good day.” He offered a curt nod to Evie before turning on his heel to walk out.

Evie closed the door behind him and spun around, eyes blazing. “I told you not to do something stupid!”

“You’re accusing me of doing something stupid? I’m not the one who let that imbecile in here!” Tears gathered in her eyes. “How could you humiliate me like that?”

“What’re you talking about? I didn’t humiliate you. You did that all on your own.” Disgust lay heavy in her voice.

Brooke clenched her teeth and let out a growl.

“Oh, stop being such a ninny! Calm down, so we can talk about this like rational adults.”

“No, I won’t calm down!” She threw back her head, causing her hair to swing out wildly behind her. There was a crazed look in her eyes. “I’ve had enough of this!”

“What do you mean?”

Brooke’s mind was on fire. Nothing made sense; but she knew if she stayed a minute longer with her mother, she’d completely lose it. “I’m a grown woman, and I don’t have to put up with this!” She ran toward the stairs to retrieve her purse and keys.

“Brooke! Come back here!” Evie yelled, hurrying after her. “Brooke!”

A few minutes later, Brooke ran back down the stairs and out the front door. Evie kept yelling and screaming at the top of her lungs, but Brooke refused to stop. After Brooke sped off in her car, Evie went back into the house and wept.

Gracie and Gertrude had witnessed the entire scene. Gracie was still trying to make sense of all that had occurred. “Wow! What a sordid mess! It’s hard to believe that a mother would say those things to her daughter—make her believe that her value is solely contingent on her looks.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “I thought my mother was bad. She was a dream compared to Brooke’s mom. No wonder Brooke is such a tyrant. And the sad part is that Evie really believes she’s helping her daughter. Unbelievable!”

A wise smile spread over Gertrude’s lips. “Your perspective was limited to a tiny dot before, but now it’s beginning to expand. You’re starting to see things as they really are.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Gracie scratched her head. She still didn’t like Brooke, but it was easier to understand where she was coming from. “Wow! Nash Rigby is certainly easy on the eyes. Talk about a hottie. He’s the bad boy version of Chris Hemsworth.”

“Who?”

“The actor.”

She shook her head, laughing. “I might’ve known. With you, everything always goes back to either an actor or a movie.”

Gracie’s mind raced ahead, a new possibility forming on the horizon. “Brooke still has feelings for Nash, and he seemed to be able to hold his own with her. Maybe I should find out more about him.”

“I knew you would eventually get on the right track,” Gertrude said, a sparkle in her eye.