Running from the Cowboy: Spring in Snow Valley Romance Read online

  “From the starry-eyed look you’ve got, I guess I have my answer.”

  Porter shook his head and headed to the corral to saddle his horse. Luke came up behind him. “Let’s work quick, bro. I’d like to get to Annie more than you’d like to get to Missy.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m the one who wants to get to his girl first.”

  Porter noticed Luke’s smile at the reference. His girl. For the first time in his life, maybe he did want only one.

  Chapter Eight

  P

  orter escorted Missy into a booth at Tina’s Place, sitting close to her. Tina brought them menus and a wide smile. “Well, this is what I like to see. Two of my favorite kiddos growing up and getting together.”

  Missy blushed. Porter wrapped his arm around her shoulder and winked at Tina. Missy couldn’t even think of a reply with Porter holding her close to his side. She slid her hand down Porter’s thigh, partly to get back at him for rendering her speechless and partly because she loved the way his muscular leg felt. Porter jumped like a skittish foal.

  “Th-thanks, Tina,” he stumbled and reddened.

  Missy hid a smile and removed her hand.

  “What’ll you kids have?”

  “Missy?” Porter looked at her to order first. It was a simple courtesy but it meant a lot to her.

  “I’d love whatever special you have and do you have pecan pie?” Her stomach did a happy dance just thinking about Tina’s pecan pie.

  “Sorry, just banana cream or apple today.”

  Well, that was almost as good. “I’ll have the apple. Thank you.”

  “You’ll love it.” Tina turned to Porter.

  “The special for me as well. Thanks, Tina.”

  “Sure thing, honey.” Tina collected the menus they hadn’t glanced at and hurried away to help the next customer.

  Porter rubbed his hand down her arm. “What do you think you’re doing, grabbing my leg like that? I almost kissed you instead of answering Tina.”

  Missy giggled. “Are you saying I have some power of you, Porter Wilson?”

  Porter shook his head. “You have no idea.”

  “Oh, I think I have a little idea.” She stroked her fingers over his leg and he jumped again. “Are you ticklish or does my touch ignite you like electricity?”

  “Electricity,” Porter growled into her ear. He cupped her face with his free hand and turned her to him. Slowly, he kissed her until Missy forgot all about teasing him. He pulled back and muttered, “But you need to be careful, us simple cowboys aren’t strong enough to resist a beautiful woman toying with them.”

  Missy smiled. Tina brought their dinner salads and Porter had to release his hold on her to eat a few bites.

  “Pecan pie?” Porter asked. “Is this like a Bullman’s Pizza kind of fascination?”

  “Tina’s pecan pie,” Missy corrected. “And yes, definitely.”

  “Good to know.” Porter nodded and saturated his salad with another cup of ranch dressing. “Is there anything non-food related that makes Missy Horman happy?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Porter’s gaze held hers. “I want to know everything about you, sweetheart.”

  Missy’s eyes pricked. She couldn’t remember anyone in her life truly caring about the things that would make her happy. Well, maybe Luke. These Wilson boys had been raised right. “I love horses.”

  “Even though you hate cowboys?”

  “Yes, even though. There’s nothing so freeing as flying over a meadow on a horse.” She paused but Porter waited as if he had nothing to do but find out about what she loved. “I love creative things like writing, scrapbooking, arranging flowers, decorating, that sort of thing. Oh, and I especially love shopping,” she continued.

  He grinned. “You had me at horses, but kind of lost me at scrapbooking.”

  She laughed.

  “Anything else?”

  “I love babies, especially squishy fat ones. I love summertime—swimming, hiking, walking, biking.”

  “Is there anything you don’t love?”

  “Cleaning.” She wrinkled her nose. Her mom’s pinched face filled her mind as she would squeeze Missy’s arm and nag about how pathetic Missy’s cleaning job was.

  “Oh, I’m with you on that one. I only do it to help my mom out.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Missy bowed her head so Porter couldn’t read her eyes. Was she comfortable enough to tell him about her mom? What then? Would he try to fix the problem or just take her in those burly arms and comfort her? Either option sounded fabulous.

  “Well, well, well, doesn’t this look like a sweet little couple.”

  Missy’s head flew up. Her stomach dove and her palms were instantly sweaty. She blinked twice, praying it was an illusion, but he stood there with a huge cowboy hat, obnoxious belt buckle won from some rodeo, and too-tight Wranglers. The grin on his face was more like a leer and his pale blue eyes flashed in that dangerous way that used to mean she was going to get hit. Why had he come back to town? She’d prayed he’d stay busy with the rodeo circuit and his belief that he was too good for Snow Valley and she’d never see him again.

  Missy swallowed. She wanted to cower or better yet, run, but she stood and faced him. Porter was instantly on his feet by her side. Missy smiled at Porter and then muttered, “Get out of here, Tate.”

  “Oh, you think I’d ever do what you say?” he sneered.

  His hand flashed out and grabbed her arm. “You’re mine, woman, and you can’t run away from me.”

  Tate had said that line so many times it was imprinted in her nightmares. She’d believed him at one time. Thought she would never escape, but she had and she was strong enough to not bow to his demands now. She wondered how he dared act this way in front of all the people they grew up around. At least her crazy mom did her thing in private. Tate didn’t care. He had no control. Yet that was one of the things that had attracted her in high school—his obvious disdain for the world had been the opposite of her mother’s desire to appear perfect. Missy had jumped on board until she realized how scary Tate was.

  Porter’s hand wrapped around Tate’s arm. The veins bulged in his forearm as he squeezed. “I suggest you let go of the lady,” he said icily. “You must’ve forgotten. She’s not your wife anymore.” His eyes flashed as he stared Tate down.

  Tate released Missy like she was a hot stove and ripped his arm from Porter’s grasp. He backed up a step. “This isn’t your business, Porter.”

  Porter stepped in front of Missy. “I’m making it my business.”

  The entire restaurant hushed, watching the interaction. When her mother heard about this from the gossip chain, she would flip out. Missy didn’t care though, she just wanted to escape from Tate.

  Tate glanced over Porter’s frame for a few seconds. Porter was thicker and obviously stronger than Tate, but Tate never fought fair. He smiled at Porter. “That’s a pretty dumb thing to do.” He swung at Porter’s face before Missy could call out a warning.

  The blow landed right on Porter’s jaw. Missy’s hands went to her mouth to stifle the scream. She’d learned that Tate enjoyed hearing her cry out. Porter shook his head once, picked up a napkin and spit into it. Missy could see the blood on the napkin. She grabbed the table to brace herself and whimpered, “Oh, Porter.”

  Tate laughed and lifted his arms into boxer stance.

  Porter looked at her and winked then focused back on Tate. “I normally don’t beat up on men smaller than me, but I’m doing this so you remember to never touch Missy again.”

  Porter planted a fist into Tate’s stomach. Tate gasped for air and bent forward. An uppercut to the jaw threw Tate backward. Porter grabbed Tate’s arm and shoved him to the ground. He bent down next to him and said, “I’ve got a lot more for you if you ever dare come near my woman again.”

  Your woman? Missy’s stomach filled with warmth. Porter had not only protected her, but laid claim to her. She’d never wanted to be some man’s prop
erty, but with Porter it felt like protection and dared she hope… love.

  “Your woman?” Tate managed to spit out.

  “And don’t you forget it,” Porter said easily. He shoved Tate again and stood, offering his hand to Missy. “You ready to go, pretty girl?”

  Missy nodded and clasped his hand. They walked a wide arc around Tate and toward the front of the restaurant. Tate stayed on the floor, watching them.

  “Can we have our order to go, Tina?” Porter asked as she stood there gaping at them with two plates of food in her hand.

  “Oh, sure, sure, just give me a minute.”

  Porter had to release Missy’s hand to pull money out of his wallet and then accept the bags of food that Tina quickly readied for them. The entire restaurant was silent. Tate stood slowly and glared at them. Missy did her best to ignore him, but her stomach jumped and her hands trembled. Porter didn’t so much as glance at Tate as he took the food bags from Tina, wrapped his arm around Missy’s waist, and escorted her from the restaurant. She glanced back and could still see Tate watching them.

  They were divorced. He couldn’t hurt her anymore.

  If only she believed that. She was shaking so badly by the time they reached Porter’s truck she could hardly walk. Porter set the food in the back seat and then gathered her into his arms. It was chilly today but Porter’s warmth encompassed her. Tears streamed down her face and her body quivered. Tate was back and Porter had just humiliated him. Terrified didn’t begin to describe how she felt. Tate would find her and make retribution and more.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” Porter whispered.

  “He’ll come back.” She shook her head against Porter’s chest. Her voice trembled. “He can’t ever lose.” She should know, she’d watched him win enough rodeos and fist fights, most of the time cheating to win.

  “I’ll be here,” Porter reassured her. “I’ll never let him hurt you again.”

  “Oh, Port.” Missy wrapped her arms more securely around his back and just held on. If only she could keep him with her every minute then maybe all the old fears and insecurities wouldn’t take her down. The tears just kept coming as she crumbled. She could clinically assess other people’s situations, but her own was too overwhelming. Could Porter really protect her? Would Tate ever quit? Porter’s strong hands rubbing her back slowly brought her under control. She clung to him until it was almost embarrassing. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “I’d do anything for you, pretty girl.” Porter wiped the tears off her face with his thumb.

  Missy smiled tremulously up at him. His solid warmth and reassurances were the only thing keeping her from running out of town screaming.

  Porter drove quickly away from town, finding a spot in the trees up a side road where they could park and eat their dinner. He wished it was warm enough to eat outside at the park or by the river, but as much as Missy had been shaking from the encounter with Tate, he thought the warm truck was probably a good idea.

  They ate without saying much. Porter stewed on the interaction with Tate, feeling like he’d taken multiple punches in the gut as he thought about Tate hurting Missy. How could a man hit any woman? He studied Missy as she cut a bite of meat. She had a small frame and the most beautiful face. With her cloud of blonde hair and clear blue eyes, she looked angelic to him. It killed him to think of her in pain.

  Porter knew he should just leave it alone and his timing was awful, but he couldn’t refrain from asking, “Why would you marry that jerk?”

  Missy bowed her head. She set her near-empty food container on the floor of the truck and picked at her fingernail polish for a few seconds before saying, “Well, I’d been dating Luke for so long.”

  “I remember.”

  She exhaled slowly. “I never felt any… sparks with Luke. I loved him, but when we kissed it was nice, never like I was dying to kiss him every minute or anything.”

  Porter really didn’t like thinking about Missy kissing anyone but him, not Luke and especially not that weasel Tate. The guy had been a punk in high school and the years since had only refined that characteristic. “So you’d been reading some romance novel and thought that a kiss should have more… sparks?”

  “Don’t you tease me Porter Wilson.” Her blue eyes glinted at him. “There should be some chemistry between a man and a woman.”

  His stomach dropped. “And with Tate you felt chemistry.” Did he dare ask what she felt with him? Was he like Luke, just a nice kiss that did nothing for her?

  “Yeah, but sadly that was all there was to Tate. The sparks disappeared quickly and what I thought would be a fun adventure with a rodeo man turned into a horrific marriage.” She looked thoughtful. “He started cheating on me and then when I called him on it, he’d beat me.”

  Porter clenched his fists and his jaw. “Why didn’t you leave him?”

  Missy stared at the dash, gripping her hands together but they were still shaking. “Have you ever heard about the cycle of abuse?”

  Porter nodded, his stomach churning. He couldn’t resist wrapping his hands around hers. She gave him a hint of a smile and kept talking.

  “After Tate beat me he’d be so apologetic and sweet for a while. I think in my heart I knew he would never change, but I’d get my hopes up and then when something bad happened again I’d decide I was really going to leave this time.” She smiled sadly. “He talked me into staying for a while and then he started threatening. Plus, I really had nowhere to go.”

  “You should’ve come home. To us.” To me? But that was silly, Missy hadn’t thought of him as more than a little brother. Hopefully that was changing now, but he had no assurances.

  Missy shook her head. “I wasn’t strong enough.”

  “To get away from him?”

  “No. To face my family again.”

  Porter gently stroked her fingers. “You thought they’d be disappointed?”

  Missy snorted. “You have no idea.”

  “Your parents love you so much. I’m sure they aren’t disappointed in you.” Now was obviously not the time to ask if they had sparks. This is not about you and your insecurities, Porter tried to remind himself. It was a shocking thought. He’d never had insecurities where women were concerned.

  “Do you even know my mother?” Missy asked.

  “Well, yeah,” Porter said. “I mean, not real well, but she seems nice.” She wasn’t overly warm, but she’d always been kind to their family, especially when his dad died and all the church ladies rallied around his mom.

  “She’s got you fooled.”

  “What?”

  Missy sighed and pulled free from his grasp. “It’s nothing.”

  Porter tilted her chin up. “It isn’t nothing. You stayed in an abusive relationship to avoid facing your mom?”

  “I’ve never told anyone about this.”

  “Okay.” Porter paused. “Can you tell me now?”

  She nodded slowly. “Jake and I call it the wrath of Susannah. My mom has a lot of inner demons and we all suffer.”

  “How?”

  “Mostly we have to look perfect in public and the house has to be in pristine condition all the time. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cleaned the same room repeatedly because it was a ‘half-butt job’.” She gave him a pained smile.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Porter brushed his hand down her cheek. She trembled under his touch and he couldn’t resist pulling her close. To comfort her. The feelings racing through his body were definitely not about comfort. He hated that she might think of him like his brother with no “sparks”.

  He hesitated for several seconds but finally it exploded out of him. “So you and I? Are there any sparks there?”

  Missy looked up at him and gave him a flirtatious smile. “Are you worried, Porter Wilson?”

  Porter swallowed and admitted, “I’ve never been insecure around a woman before, but with you I want to do everything right.” He exhaled slowly. “I like you Missy and I
know my timing stinks and I don’t want to push you when you’re still recovering, but do you think you could ever feel… the way I’m feel—”

  Missy’s lips cut him off mid-sentence. She wrapped her arms around his neck and took his breath away. Porter scooted from behind the steering wheel and lifted her easily onto his lap. When she finally broke away, she gasped for air and said, “You have no idea what you to do me.”

  Porter grinned. “Sparks?”

  “I think with you and I it’s more like fireworks.” She kissed him again and Porter wholeheartedly agreed.

  Chapter Nine

  M

  issy came home much later that night still floating. Porter had escorted her up to the door and made certain there was no sign of Tate. He’d extracted a promise that she call if she thought she saw Tate or even felt afraid. She placed a hand on her heart. Despite the fact that Tate was back in town and the light on in the living room alerted her that her mother was waiting up and would not be happy, the joy from being protected and kissed by Porter made all the worries fade to the background.

  “It’s after midnight, Melissa Horman,” her mother’s shrill voice greeted her.

  “I’m over eighteen, Mother.”

  Her mom crossed the room so quickly, she was digging her fingers into Missy’s arm before Missy could dart to safety. “You are living under my roof and I demand you show me the respect I deserve.”

  Missy wrenched her arm free and stared up at her mother. “You don’t deserve any respect yet you try to demand it. I moved home to try to ease Dad’s burden of dealing with you, but I would rather live in my car than put up with you any longer.”

  “Ever since you left poor Tate, you’ve had this attitude. It’s not attractive and I don’t appreciate having to pick up your life when you blow it apart.”