Cowboy Take Me Away - By Jane Graves Page 0,117

hard.

Then he saw the bars.

Sure enough, it hadn’t been a bad dream after all. He was in jail.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, feeling as if every nerve in his body had been deadened with Novocain. His sleep had been erratic and so filled with odd, nightmarish dreams that he felt as if he’d barely closed his eyes.

He heard a door open and looked up to see Sheriff Sizemore come in. Luke rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to focus.

“Russell called,” the sheriff said. “He’s dropping the charges.”

“Yeah?” Luke said, his voice slurred with sleep. “What made him change his mind?”

“He didn’t say. He just said he wanted you out of jail.”

The sheriff opened the cell door and gave Luke his possessions back. Luke looked at his phone. It was eight thirty. He was amazed he’d even slept that long in a place like this. He guessed it was self-preservation. Being awake meant he had to face what had happened, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I want you to think really strongly about something,” the sheriff said.

“What’s that?”

“Leaving town. Today.”

Luke’s head throbbed with shame and humiliation. He’d walked into this town with the stain of the past still on him, and he was leaving now covered in it.

“Yeah,” he said in a dead voice. “I’m leaving.”

“I think that’s best for all concerned.”

Luke turned and walked to the door, feeling the sheriff’s gaze on him with every step he took, the man’s unspoken words stabbing into him. And don’t come back.

A minute later Luke was walking along the town square toward his truck. Remnants of the festival were still scattered along Rainbow Way—signs, pennants, a few booths that had yet to be taken down. It seemed surreal to him now, as if the festival had ended months ago instead of hours.

As he passed Tasha’s Boutique, Ginger spotted him from inside the shop. She trotted over, hopped up on a chair, and barked. Tasha froze, her scissors hovering over a woman’s wet hair, and watched as Luke passed by. No smile, no wave. A few doors down, three of Rosie’s booths along the window were occupied. Those people stopped eating to watch him walk by, their faces filled with lurid curiosity. He didn’t recognize them, but the crawly sensation in his stomach told him they recognized him. It felt so strange to walk this street again as if he was an outsider. As if he wasn’t part of this place anymore, and it wasn’t part of him. And Shannon…

No. He couldn’t think about her now, or he wouldn’t be able to stand it.

A few minutes later, he’d climbed into his truck and left Rainbow Valley, heading for the shelter. When he reached it, he thanked God nobody was there yet, including Shannon. He gathered his meager belongings from his apartment and tossed them into his truck.

Then he thought about Manny and Fluffy.

He stopped for a moment, his hand on the driver’s door. Fluffy would be adopted soon. Luke would miss him fiercely, but he was such a sweet, engaging dog in spite of the way he’d been treated that eventually he’d live out his life with someone who would love him.

Manny was another story.

Luke hadn’t been there long enough to turn him around completely, and that meant he’d likely be at the shelter forever. Luke only hoped that somehow, some way, the little horse would find some kind of peace with the abuse he’d suffered, some way to reconcile the fear he felt without the shadow of it clinging to him every day of his life.

Luke turned onto the highway again, heading for the interstate. He thought about texting Shannon to tell her he was gone, then wondered why he would bother. She’d find out soon enough, and after what had happened, she’d be damned glad of it. After all, in the span of a few minutes, he’d confirmed what everybody in this town had always thought about him. That he was his father’s son, now and forever.

Luke slammed his fist against the steering wheel. Damn it! Why had he done it? Why? One moment he was brushing off Russell’s comments like a fly off his sleeve. In the next moment, it was as if the words found their way inside him, waking up that part of him he thought he’d buried for good, driving him to do something—anything—to take away the anger and the pain.

Drive. Just drive. Leave this

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