The Calamity Janes: Cassie & Karen: Do You Take This Rebel?

“Unless it’s a way to squeeze eight hours of sleep into the two hours I have before I meet with Don Rollins about that bull you want, I doubt it.”

Undaunted, his father announced, “Cassie and her friends will be at Stella’s at noon today. Stella’s about to bust a gusset at the thought that a famous movie star is going to be dining in her establishment. That’s what she said, ‘dining in my establishment.’ Talk about putting on airs. She’s talking about little Lauren Winters. We’ve known the girl since she was in diapers. I can’t see what all the ruckus is about.”

He shook his head. “Well, never mind about that. The point is that Cassie will be there.”

Cole’s pulse did a little hop, skip and jump, which he resolutely blamed on exhaustion. “So?”

“Just thought you’d want to know.”

“And now I do.” He stared evenly at his father. “Are you waiting for some sort of reaction?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Any hot-blooded son of mine would take a shower, shave, splash on a little of that fancy aftershave women like and haul his butt into town. Now’s your chance, son. Don’t waste it.”

“I’m confused about something. When did you become such a big fan of Cassie’s?”

Guilt flickered in his father’s eyes for an instant before he shrugged. “The point is you cared about her once.”

“A long time ago. You saw to it that it came to nothing.”

“Well, maybe I regret that.”

“Do you really?” Cole asked doubtfully, then shook his head. “Look, forget it. I have an appointment, anyway.”

“I can buy my own blasted bull,” his father retorted. “Seems to me like you ought to have better fish to fry.”

Cole raked a hand through his hair, spared one last glance at the computer screen before shutting it down, then stood up.

“A shower sounds good,” he conceded. “As for the rest, if I were you, I’d be real careful about telling me how capable you are of managing without me. I might get the idea that I could leave this ranch and Winding River and you wouldn’t even miss me.”

His father began to sputter a lot of nonsense about not saying any such thing, but Cole ignored the protest and headed upstairs for a long, hot shower to work out the kinks in his neck and shoulders. Given the state of his thoughts about Cassie Collins, he probably should have let the water run cold.

An hour later, feeling moderately more alive, he left the house and headed into town. Not to satisfy his father, he assured himself. Not even to catch a glimpse of Cassie. Just to grab a decent meal that he didn’t have to cook himself, maybe pick up a few things at the feed and grain store. If Cassie happened to be around, well, that was pure coincidence, the kind of thing that happened in small towns. People bumped into people all the time, exchanged a few words, then went on about their business. It didn’t have to mean a thing.

Yeah, right. He sneezed as he caught a whiff of that aftershave he’d splashed on at the last minute. He yanked a handkerchief out of his pocket and rubbed at his cheeks, but the scent stayed with him, mocking his avowed intentions about this trip into town.

He glanced in the rearview mirror of his truck, assured himself that no one was behind him, then slammed on the brakes right there in the middle of the highway. He could quit lying to himself right now, turn around, go back to the ranch and take that nap he’d been craving before his father had shown up. And if he wanted to salvage a lick of pride, that was exactly what he ought to do.

“Do it,” he muttered. “Be sensible for once in your miserable life.”

But the lure of seeing Cassie again was too much to ignore. It had been a long time since he’d let temptation get the better of him. Surely he could be forgiven a single lapse.

With a sigh he took his foot off the brake and kept going, heading straight for trouble.

* * *

“Oh, my word, I never thought I’d see all of you back together again,” Stella Partlow said, hands on her ample hips as her gaze circled the table at the back of her diner. “These class reunions always take me right back. Not a one of you has changed a lick.”

“Not even Lauren?” Cassie asked the woman who had given her her first job as a waitress back in high school. Stella had ignored the gossip and patiently gone about the business of turning Cassie into a responsible employee.

At Cassie’s question, Stella peered intently at Lauren, then shook her head. “Nope. She was always a beauty. Back then she just didn’t make the most of the looks God gave her. I’ve always said a good haircut and a few beauty products can turn the plainest woman into something a man can’t resist.”

“You still selling Avon?” Emma teased.

“Well, of course I am,” Stella retorted. “But right this second I’m pushing hamburgers. How about five with the works, just the way you used to like ’em?”

“And fries,” Karen said with a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

“And chocolate milk shakes,” Cassie added, all but licking her lips. Nobody anywhere made shakes as thick and rich as Stella’s. Not even Earlene had the knack.

“Except for me,” Lauren corrected.

“I imagine you’ll be having a cherry cola, same as always,” Stella said, giving her a wink. “Coming right up. You all try to keep the noise level down back here. I’ve got tourists, and they like a little peace and quiet while they eat.”

“I’ll bet if you point out that they’re in the presence of a gen-u-ine movie star, they won’t care how much racket we make,” Gina told her.

Lauren frowned. “Stop it, you guys. Acting’s a job. It’s not who I am. If anybody ought to know that, you should,” she reminded them.

Cassie thought she detected an edge in her friend’s voice, but Lauren laughed just as hard as the rest of them at the teasing comments that followed. And when they plagued her with questions about her leading men, her responses were as ribald as the discussions they’d had about boys in high school.

When their drinks came, Cassie raised her glass. “A toast. To the Calamity Janes—may all our troubles be behind us.”

Just as the others joined in, Cassie’s glance strayed to the window looking onto Main Street. Cole Davis was standing on the sidewalk staring right back at her, his hands jammed in the pockets of his faded denims, his jaw set and an unreadable expression in his eyes.

“Uh-oh,” Karen murmured. “Looks as if that toast came too late. Trouble is about to come calling.”

All of the women followed Cole’s progress as he strode to the door and entered the diner.

Cassie swallowed hard and prayed that she wouldn’t make a complete fool of herself. It was just a chance meeting with an old flame. Nothing more. Nothing to cause this churning in the pit of her stomach. There was no reason for her heart to slam against her ribs or her pulse to ricochet wildly. Jake was safely at home with her mother, so there was no reason for this little lick of fear that was sliding up the back of her throat.

Get a grip, she told herself mentally as she lifted her gaze to meet his. Those unflinching blue eyes were just as devastating as ever. Her stomach flipped over. Her heart pounded. Her pulse ricocheted. Reason apparently had nothing to do with anything where Cole was concerned, not even after ten long years.

Tension swirled as she felt four gazes pinned on her, waiting to see what she would do. She drew in a deep breath and reminded herself she was a grown-up woman—a mother, in fact. She could handle a simple little exchange with a man, even if he did happen to be the father of the child she’d kept from him...even if she’d spent years nurturing her hatred of him.

“Cole,” she acknowledged with a slight nod.

“Cassie.”

His voice was as low and sexy as she’d remembered, his face more mature, his lips in that same straight line that had always dared her to try to coax a smile from him. His blue eyes were as cold as a wintry sky, though why they were eluded her. He was the one who’d walked out on her. If anyone had a right to be fuming mad, it was she. He ought to be on his knees apologizing, which was about as likely as the sun starting to rise in the west.

When it looked as if the conversation had run into a dead end before getting off the ground, Karen, ever the peacemaker, jumped in.

“How’s Frank?” she asked, as if the tension weren’t already thick enough without bringing up Cole’s father.

“Same as ever. Cantankerous,” he said, bestowing the smile on her that he’d refused Cassie.

“Still grumbling about getting you married off?” Karen teased. Cassie poked an elbow sharply in her ribs.

“The topic does come up now and again,” Cole said, amusement tilting the corners of his mouth.