A Cowboy to Marry. Cathy Thacker Gillen
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he was sitting close enough to give her hand a squeeze, he nodded back.
“Which is why I got involved,” Miss Mim confided with an unhappy sigh. “But by then the government offices had closed for the Thanksgiving holiday.”
Clasping his hands between his knees, Holden leaned forward. “Did you try talking to Rowdy?”
Miss Mim nodded. “He wasn’t at liberty to reveal much at this juncture, but said that if the situation was what he suspected, the library might be closed for a good long while.”
“Which would be a problem,” Libby said worriedly. “So many residents depend on it.”
Holden knew she spent a lot of time there, too. Books had always been of great comfort to her. Even more so after Percy died….
“Plus—” Miss Rosa’s low voice quavered “—we have all those Christmas events planned for the children, starting Monday. All the book clubs in the area have signed up to use the space for their holiday parties. Not to mention all the free literacy tutoring that goes on there.” She wrung her hands in distress. “I’d arranged for a tree and everything!”
“And we all know,” Holden murmured, “how bureaucracy can slow things down.”
“No kidding!” Miss Mim turned back to Libby, her gaze intent. “We’re going to need a real crusader. Which is, of course, why we came to you!”
Libby smiled. “I’ll do everything I can to help.”
“Me, too,” Holden promised.
Beaming, Miss Mim and Miss Rosa stood. “With a Lowell and a McCabe on the job, how can we go wrong?” the older lady joked.
Holden went with Libby to show them out. “Actually, you’ll have a lot of McCabes,” he promised, “as soon as I let the family know what’s going on.”
Briefly, Libby’s expression looked pinched. “As far as the Lowells go, it’s just me. But I promise you I’ll give the situation my all.”
Thanks were given. More hugs ensued. And then the two librarians slipped out the door.
“Well.” Libby squared her slender shoulders and drew an innervating breath. “There’s never a dull moment around here.”
“The people of this community have come to rely on you,” he said.
Unhappiness glimmered in Libby’s green eyes as she regarded him. “That’s not what I need to hear.”
He had hurt her. Again. Without meaning to do so. He injected as much gentle levity into his tone as he dared. “What do you need to hear, then?”
She snorted indignantly. “Oh, something along the lines of you understand that although I have done everything I could to live up to the wishes of Percy and his parents in maintaining the Lowell family tradition and legacy in Laramie … you also know I’m leading a life I never intended to lead.”
“I thought you liked running the dealership.” She was certainly good at it.
She peered at him through narrowed lashes. “I like managing things, keeping things running and solving problems. I have no passion for farm and ranch equipment, per se.”
He flashed her a cryptic smile. “You don’t dream about combines and harvesters?”
Contrary as ever around him, she replied, “I have the occasional nightmare about a delivery not arriving in time for a rancher to harvest the crop that’s going to feed his cattle all winter.”
Holden cleared his throat, regarding her steadily. “You’re serious.”
She wandered back into the living room and plopped down on the sofa with her book. “Oh, yes.”
He watched her slide her reading glasses back on her nose. “You never said anything.”
She winced again. “That would have been ungrateful, wouldn’t it?” Libby paused in the act of opening her novel. “Here I am, having inherited a beautiful home, a thriving business and the mantle of the esteemed Lowell name.”
Holden sat opposite her and studied the elegant contours of her face.
“When all I really want, if I’m to be perfectly honest …” Libby raked her teeth across the velvety pink softness of her lower lip.
He gripped the arms of the chair and rocked forward slightly, guessing, “All you really want is your husband back.”
A pained silence fell between them. When she spoke again, her defenses were up. “We both wish that were possible.”
“I’m sorry, Libby.”
“Please.” She lifted a delicate palm. “Don’t apologize. Not again …”
How could he not? Holden thought with a fresh flood of guilt. “If Percy and I hadn’t gone on that white-water rafting trip in South America right after my marriage busted up …”
The light faded from her eyes. “He knew you were devastated when you lost the baby and Heidi, all at once.”
The reminder of his loss had a wealth of undercurrents. “I never should have married her.”
Libby sighed, perceptive as ever. “That’s true, since shotgun weddings have a very low success rate. But,” she continued with laudable understanding, “you’re a noble guy … and you were head over heels in love with her.”
Holden folded his arms over his chest. “Even if it turns out Heidi didn’t feel the same way.” To his ex-wife, he had been her rebound guy from another relationship.
“You did what you thought was the right thing, in marrying her,” Libby soothed.
“And failed, anyway.”
She nodded, recalling compassionately, “And Percy wanted to cheer you up.”
Wearily, Holden shoved his fingers through his hair. “I should have said no.”
“Then Percy would have gone alone.”
Holden looked at her in disbelief.
Leaning forward, Libby took off her glasses and confided, “You weren’t the only one unhappy at the time, Holden. Percy was feeling hemmed in. He was tired of running the dealership in the wake of his parents’ death, tired of living the ‘expected, ordinary’ life. He needed that little burst of pure freedom.”
Holden grimaced in regret. “But he had responsibilities. We both knew the Rio Suarez could be dangerous.” Many of the rapids were a grade four plus …!
Libby shrugged, clearly not as inclined to rewrite history as Holden was. “If your raft hadn’t started to take on water and collapse the exact moment you hit the rapids,” she said with a resignation that came straight from her soul. “If Percy hadn’t jumped to save you …”
“And succeeded,” Holden stated hoarsely.
“He never would have slammed into those boulders himself, or broken his leg and nearly drowned, until you and guides saved him. He wouldn’t have needed to go to the hospital in San Gil, which was miles away, over rough terrain. His wounds wouldn’t have become infected, and he wouldn’t have started running a fever.”
“And begged me to watch over you.”
Abruptly, Libby looked as numb as she had at the funeral. “Had none of that happened, Percy would have lived.” She stood and gazed deep into Holden’s eyes. “But he didn’t.” Restlessly, she paced the length of the room. “And now you and I are here. Dealing with the aftermath of my late husband’s reckless nature, each and every day.”
Holden caught up with her. “You have to know,” he croaked, gripping her hands, “if I could take it all back …” Make your life better. Make you happy again …