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"What is it?" Luisa asked, concern etched along her brow. "Is something wrong?"
"I’m afraid so. I need to leave. I don’t have a car. Jack drove me."
"What’s wrong? Is it an emergency?"
"No, no. Nothing like that." The only emergency is that I need to get out of here. Her breath caught in her chest. Breathe, Holly. Breathe.
"How can I get a ride home? Will a cab come out here?"
"Carlos can drive you home. He gets Sundays off."
"God. Thank you. I’ll owe you both big time. Where’s Jack?"
"He’s in his office. Then he said something about checking on a few things in the main barn."
"Will he be gone long, do you think?"
"I don’t know. You can run out and tell him what’s going on."
"No!" Holly adjusted her voice quickly. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so upset." But upset she was. "I need to get home right away. How quickly can Carlos get here?"
"In a couple minutes. Please, Holly, can you tell me what’s wrong? Jack will be worried."
"It’s nothing to worry about. Just something came up that I need to take care of."
"What do you want me to tell Jack?"
"Just that. I’ll...I’ll call him later. Tell him not to worry."
"Okay. If you say so."
Holly raced to the bedroom while Luisa picked up the kitchen phone, presumably to call Carlos.
Within fifteen minutes, she was packed and in Carlos’s truck, driving toward downtown Denver.
The only problem was, she’d left her heart at Jack’s ranch.
* * * *
Jack didn’t call her. Hell, she didn’t blame him, the way she’d run off like a freaking coward. Minutes turned into hours as she lay on her bed, holding her pillow to her face, inhaling Jack’s scent. She’d never wash that pillow case. How long would the aroma last? It would slowly dwindle away and she’d be left with nothing.
Why had she fallen in love with him? A man so young, so vibrant, with a beautiful little son who deserved so much more than she could ever give either of them.
Now she had no one to turn to.
It served her right for leading Jack on far too long.
Wait! The Cougar Club chatters!
Night had fallen, and darkness surrounded her. She glanced at her alarm clock. Nine-thirty. Would anyone be in the chatroom on a Sunday night? Of course, the other day she had logged on at midnight and three women were there.
It couldn’t hurt to try.
Still hugging her pillow laced with Jack’s musky fragrance, she wandered into her office and fired up the computer.
MrsRobinson: Holly, good evening! Nice to see you again. Afraid it’s just you and me tonight. Sundays are usually pretty low key.
Holly typed frantically, correcting typos as she went.
