Chasing Liberty, page 3
“Where is everyone else?” Liberty said.
“Late as a Sunday, as usual.” Sam took his place at the head of the table. “I’m starving.”
Freedom, Justice, and Hope came strolling in with a flurry of chatter. Cave and Honor were close behind. While the sisters greeted each other, Wyler stood as Cave came over to give him strong handshake.
“I didn’t think we’d make it. I could eat a damn horse.” Cave dropped down into the chair and dramatically resituated his large, but lean, body in the chair that barely fit his frame.
“Tired?” Wyler asked.
“We have to get our wives on good terms again. I love Honor and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make her happy, but there are things I have no clue how to fix. Like raging pregnancy hormones. Hemorrhoids. And going to the bathroom every five minutes,” Cave shook his head. “You know how many times Honor has asked me for a divorce just this week?”
“Is this another competition?” Wyler muttered, shooting a glance at the circle of sisters.
“What?” Cave asked.
“How many times?” Wyler thought it best not to discuss his discussion with Liberty. Picking up his beer, he drained the bottle.
“Three times. The first time was because I accidentally left the toilet seat up and she got wet. Then I forgot to grab the right flavor of ice cream. Who knew there was a difference between brownie batter swirl and brownie batter marble. And hell, the third time? I still don’t have a clue. Maybe I looked at her wrong, or my tone was off. Nothing makes a strong man more powerless than not knowing how to take care of his wife.”
“You know she’s not being serious. You two are like butter and bread.”
Cave shrugged. “The pregnancy and the fact that she hasn’t spoken to Liberty in a couple of months is adding up. You know how those two are. They finish each other’s sentences.”
Wyler looked back over to where the sisters were gathered in a huddle. All five looked alike, yet there were unique differences, even between Honor and Liberty. He watched his wife play with a piece of her hair, twirling the strand around her knuckle repeatedly. It was a nervous habit. The planned break up must really have her in a spiral. Or the fact that she and Honor weren’t even acknowledging each other. Wyler knew Liberty missed Honor. He didn’t know quite what had come between the sisters, but they were both stubborn and prideful. One of them would give in, eventually.
When Liberty came to sit next to him, he whispered into her ear, “Why don’t you just speak to her?”
“There’s only one person who’s more complicated than me. And it’s not my father.” She took a sip of wine and her pert nose wrinkled. “That doesn’t taste right.”
“The expensive stuff never tastes right.”
“Taste this and tell me what you think.” She slid the glass toward him.
He took a gulp. “Tastes as disgusting as white wine always does.”
She sighed and pushed the glass away. “That was no help.”
He reached for his bottle and remembered it was empty, so he downed the contents of his water glass. “Liberty, I need to speak—”
“Can I have everyone’s attention.” Sam stood up, his commanding voice gaining everyone’s attention. “I’d like to first wish my lovely daughter, Freedom, a happy birthday.” He saluted her with his glass.
Everyone at the table, and surrounding tables, followed suit.
Freedom brushed her hair over one shoulder, looking a bit flustered. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“It has just been brought to my attention that Honor and Cave have found out that they’re expecting a baby girl. Congratulations to you both.” Pride shone in Sam’s expression.
Honor stood and went to give him a hug.
“Thank you, sir.” Cave shook Sam’s hand.
“They’re expecting a girl,” Liberty whispered as if Wyler hadn’t heard Sam.
Wyler leaned forward, seeing a mysterious gleam in her eyes. “Are you crying?”
“Of course not. I’ve got something in my eye. I need to go to the restroom.” She pushed back her chair and practically flung herself out of the room.
“Is she alright?” Freedom asked, a look of concern in her silver-blue eyes.
“Something in her eye,” he said as he kept his eyes on Liberty.
“Should I go and check on her?” Freedom started to get up.
“I’ll go.” He quickly stood up. Now was as good as a time as any to have that talk.
He strolled down the corridor toward the women’s restroom and knocked on the door. “Liberty?”
“What, Wyler?” she called through the door.
“Are you alone?”
“No. I have half of the restaurant in here with me and we’re throwing a rager.”
He could practically hear the eye roll in the tone of her voice.
Grunting, he opened the door, and peeked in. She was standing at the sink, and she caught his gaze through the mirror. “This is the women’s restroom,” she whispered.
He crouched down and looked for feet in the stalls. He stepped deeper inside, closed the door, and blocked it with his body. “We need to talk.”
She swung around, her eyes wide and glazed. “It couldn’t wait? I need to use the toilet.”
“Go ahead.”
“Not with you in here. What’s so important?”
Swiping off his hat, he pressed it against his chest, feeling like he’d been socked in the stomach. “Don’t do this, Liberty.”
“Don’t use the toilet?” One brow lifted. “You’re acting weird. And I guess I am too. I don’t know what is wrong with me.”
“Liberty, you and I…we need...” He took a step toward her.
“I’ve been so tired. Overwhelmed. In a brain fog,” she said, throwing up her hands in frustration.
“I need to air my feelings—”
The door came swinging open and struck Wyler in the back. He stepped aside and Justice entered, stopping mid-stride. She swiped her curious gaze from Wyler to Liberty. “Please tell me you two aren’t planning to do the bathroom bliss.”
“Yes,” Wyler said, unsure what bathroom bliss referred to.
“I can come back.” Justice started to back out.
“Justice, you came at the right time. Wyler has just asked me for a divorce,” Liberty blurted, wringing out her hands nervously.
“He what?”
“I what?” Wyler muttered at the same time.
“No, he didn’t.” Justice narrowed her gaze on him, and her mouth twisted.
“Yes.” Liberty moaned. “I haven’t been the best wife. I tried, but I failed.” She slipped Wyler a wink.
“I think you two need to discuss this in private. I don’t need to use the bathroom that bad.” Justice took a step toward the corridor.
“Wait! I’m leaving too.” Liberty spun to look at Wyler. “Fine! I’ll give you a divorce!” Liberty sprinted for the door. She looked back at Wyler, her eyes glistening. She was playing the part so well that she appeared sorrowful. “You’re right, Wyler. We should separate. You deserve better. I’m sure you’ll want to move out of the Manor. I only wish the best for you.” Then she was gone.
Justice, who was still standing in the doorway, exchanged a look with Wyler.
“Well, this isn’t awkward at all,” she said.
Wyler stood frozen on the expensive Italian tiled floor, trying to catch up to what had just occurred. He felt like he’d been slammed against the wall a few times then kicked in the face. Everything spun around him like a racing funnel cloud. The air was thin, and he couldn’t quite drag enough oxygen into his lungs.
Finally, his mind kicked back into gear.
“Justice, give your family my regards. I’m not feeling up to dinner.”
Chapter Three
Four weeks later.
“Look at those big titties. I’d like to blow raspberries all over those babies.” Billy Reese raised his hands and kneaded the air.
Wyler Ranks barely glanced at the half-dressed dancer shimmying down the pole on stage. He shot a glance over at Billye who was without an ounce of shame salivating over the big breasted dancer. His eyes were about ready to pop out of his head. These boys were showing their desperation and the fact that they’d been working non-stop. Sam had been driving the hands to erect the new barn, inoculate the livestock, and prepare the ranch for the annual Harvest Picnic.
Wyler handed Billy a napkin. “Catch the drool before it hits your chin, buddy.” He might be offended at Billy’s hopelessness if it wasn’t for the fact that Wyler felt a bit hopeless too.
Billy dabbed his whiskered chin then gave the crumbled napkin a badly aimed toss at Wyler’s head. Billy was infamous for his inability to shoot a wall ten feet in front of him. That’s how he earned the nickname “Wild Shot”. “Think she likes ‘em old and weathered?”
“Sure.” Wyler pounded the scrawny man on the back then glanced around the bar at the cowboys who’d gathered at Slick Charley’s to unwind after a long, hard week. Usually, Wyler didn’t hang out with the men at Slick’s, but tonight he needed to get his mind off the three-ring circus of his current situation in life. He’d rather have gone to Mav’s and played some pool or darts, listened to some good ol’ country music, and had a few beers with the regulars. They always had good stories to tell.
“Hello, handsome,” a tall blonde said as she laid her hand on his shoulder. She wore a sequined top and matching bottoms that exposed a tattoo of a cheetah covering her belly and down one thigh. “What can a girl do to turn that frown upside down?” She leaned closer, bumping her firm breasts against his bicep.
She smelled good, but she didn’t smell like spiced vanilla.
“What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Shelly.” She whispered in his ear, “Doall.” She pulled back and her eyes were shining with mischievousness.
“Well, Shelly Doall, thanks for the concern, but I’m only here for the beer and wings.”
“I’d be willing to give you anything you want at a deep discount.” She wagged her brows.
“How generous of you, but I’m heading out soon.”
She took a step back, her smile dulling. “If you just so happen to change your mind, honey, you know where to find me.” She swung those hips like a well-oiled pendulum as she targeted a table of men who looked like a rowdy group that were all ready for a deep discount.
Wyler had been told the best way to get over a broken heart was through another woman’s curves, but that wasn’t his philosophy. He’d been a bit preoccupied with the spitfire who still haunted every waking minute of his days. Even after she’d dumped him in a public restroom a little over a month ago. The woman who’d blissfully taken him on a wild ride only to discard him like a rusty spur.
Some of his self-pity was exchanged for anger.
Hell, if she didn’t want him, fine by him. He’d received the deed for his share of Crescent Rose two weeks ago and he was already in the early stages of planting some roots there. The next day after Liberty kicked him out of the Manor, he bought himself a camper, set it up at Crescent Rose, and moved in. The second thing he did was had a sign made for his new homestead—Willow Wild—named after his ma Not everything needed to be named after a Rose.
He only had himself to blame for falling for a woman who’d made it clear that she married him for what was swinging between his legs and not what was beating in his chest. He knew the crew laughed behind his back. No one had the guts to say anything to his face because they respected him, but could he blame them? He’d walked right into that web of roses with eyes wide open. He shouldn’t have been surprised when he ran smack dab into some thorns.
Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he thought he should stop taking up space in the club. Maybe he’d stop at Mav’s despite that he’d heard Liberty was back in town and she and her sisters were usually at the bar on Friday nights for karaoke She’d left Sagebrush Pine on business right after Freedom’s birthday, which had been for the best. He’d been a hair’s width away from handing in his resignation because dodging her wasn’t his thing. Then Sam pulled him aside and stated in clear terms, “Son, we need you here at Sagebrush. We rely on you. You’ll always have a place here.”
Wyler had found himself looking up to Sam as the father Wyler had never had. Those words had convinced him to stay, at least for the time being. He didn’t want to leave his work family high-and-dry.
Liberty had made her decision and now he had to live with it. He shouldn’t have to give up the other things he loved for her. Even if he felt like he’d been kicked in the chest.
It didn’t take long before news spread that Wyler and Liberty had separated and were on their way to divorce. News traveled fast in a small town, especially bad news. Yesterday, he’d stopped over at the market and he couldn’t get from one row to the next without being stopped and asked if he was okay or being invited to dinner.
He appreciated everyone’s concern, but he was doing fine, if he didn’t count the fact that every thought of Liberty triggered his body into overdrive. He felt a deep chasm in the center of his chest.
He should be drooling over the seductive blonde on stage, like the rest of the crew, but something foreign had a hold on him that he couldn’t quite shake. He was a tough man, expected to have big balls and move forward. Harden his heart. Easier said than done.
When the dancer undid the strings to her sequined top and the material floated away, he didn’t feel one grain of interest. Not even a tingle below his belt buckle. While his buddies whistled and hooted, Wyler rubbed the ache in his forehead.
He shook his head at the realization that he was broken. He’d heard around the rodeo circuit a time or two of men finding themselves in love, but he’d never experienced the emotion himself. At thirty-three, he supposed getting bit by the bug was bound to happen at some point, but why did it have to happen with his wife—his soon to be ex-wife.
“What is wrong with you, Ranks?” Rigs Fletcher elbowed Wyler. “Got a hair stuck up your ass still? You’re supposed to unwind here.”
Wyler turned his gaze onto the grizzly looking man who’d once played for the NFL until a life-changing injury ended his rising career. The solid linebacker turned to ranching as plan b. He was strong and a big asset at Sagebrush Rose.
“I’m just not feeling it tonight.” He deposited his empty bottle next to the collection of bottles Rigs had accumulated.
“Hell, man. We get it. You’re still pining over Liberty,” Brooks, who joined in on the conversation during the break between dancers, said with a snort. “But dude, you only have yourself to blame. We’re simple folk, and the Rose sisters, well, they like the finer things in life. Not men with dirt under their nails and sweat between their ass cheeks.”
“And you’ve definitely got some nasty swamp ass,” Jinx said with a grin.
“Fuck off.” Brooks flipped off Jinx.
“Dipshits, stop making this about you. Our buddy needs a pep talk not a dating for dummies TED talk,” Rigs said with a frown. “Look, Wyler, as your friend I want you to be happy. The way I see it, you have one of two options. You go and throw yourself at Liberty’s mercy and beg for a second chance or you grow a freaking backbone and forget about her.”
“That’s your advice?” Jinx shook his head. “A man should never have to beg for something that’s already his.” He drained his bottle.
“This ain’t the Dr. Phil show, cocksuckers. Can you all just let me enjoy tits and ass? You’re going to give me heartburn with all this relationship bullshit.” Billy ogled the new dancer that shimmied her way over to give him an up close and personal view of her bare breasts. He laughed like he’d just won the lottery. “Best seat in the house.” He fist bumped the air.
Wyler didn’t want to talk about Liberty with the men, or anyone. He already knew he’d walked himself straight into the heartbreak. Usually, the men refrained from broaching the subject, but being away from the ranch, and some liquid courage, they tended to get a bit looser-lipped.
“How about another?” Jinx waved the server over. “If you can’t fix it, drown it.”
“Nah. I’m good.” Wyler was done.
The petite woman with jet-black hair and matching lipstick, squeezed in between Wyler and Rigs, offering them each a welcoming smile. “Want another, cowboy?” she said to Wyler.
“No, thanks. I’m on my way out.”
“I’ll take another, beautiful,” Jinx said and occupied the server’s attention. Nearing forty, he had a certain charm that a lot of the ladies liked.
Wyler leaned back into his chair and ran his palm down his whiskered jaw. He needed some sleep, a shave, and a dose of stark reality. Maybe the guys were right. In a very muddled sort of way. He had to grow a backbone and move forward. A woman like Liberty would never respect Wyler if he groveled. Hell, he wouldn’t be able to look at himself in the mirror if he did. It was high time he put up some walls around his heart.
He wondered what his ma would have said to him about marrying for convenience. When Liberty had come to him and mentioned the proposition, marry her in exchange for land, he couldn’t deny he saw it as a rare opportunity to get ahead in life. Wyler wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking would happen when they did get married. He might have been under the impression that he and Liberty would continue the good thing they had, but the second the Elvis impersonator pronounced Wyler and Liberty husband and wife, things had become a bit complicated. He’d become a husband and that meant something to him.
God, he needed to get his life back—the single life when he didn’t have a care in the world.
He swiveled on the chair and beelined his gaze to the exit that beckoned. A flash of blonde hair across the dimly lit room caught his attention. Not just blonde hair but strawberry blonde with sunkissed highlights.
Liberty?
Nah, it couldn’t be.
Almost falling off the chair because he craned his neck in search of her, he caught himself. There wasn’t a woman there. He must have been imagining her. Seeing what he wanted to see.
