At least he was man enough to own up to his mistakes. But was that enough to keep him on the straight and narrow? Alyssa knew enough about alcoholism to know the path wasn’t simple, and she sent up a short, silent prayer that God would be with Cash throughout the struggles he would face.
“So now you know the truth, it’s up to you as to what you want to do with it. With me,” he amended. “Are you willing to help me, not only with my rodeo publicity, but in regaining my life and integrity? Or do I need to look elsewhere?”
Alyssa thought of his agent, Martin, who stood just out of earshot, his gaze zoned in on them and a frown lining his face. At least the photographer who’d taken pictures of Cash at the auction and when they’d first shared the picnic was nowhere to be seen.
But Pete would be back, hanging around Cash, and no doubt getting in the way. Her customers would be bumping into him every time they turned around, and that was to say nothing of how chaotic the renovation might be.
She pressed her palms against her eyes where a headache was forming. It was a lot to consider, and she wished she had more time to think about it, but Cash needed an answer now.
And Cash wasn’t the only one waiting for an answer. Even now, Martin was inching forward. Alyssa was certain he wouldn’t walk away until he got what he wanted.
Her stomach churned, and she prayed she wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of her life.
“Okay, I’ll help you,” she said. “But I’ll be watching you like a hawk. One mistake and you’re gone. Is that clear?”
He gave a curt nod.
“Understood. And thank you.” He tipped his hat at her.
“Don’t thank me yet,” she warned him. “This arrangement can end as quickly as it begins.”
“I get it. It’s all on me.”
“I’ll expect you to be at the store at 8:00 a.m. sharp Monday morning.”
He stood, gesturing toward Martin. “I’d better tell him I’m sticking around so he can make arrangements for Pete to stay in town.”
“Okay. And, Cash?”
“Yeah?” He turned, one dark eyebrow raised.
“Don’t be late.”
Cash’s head was slamming harder than the nails he was pounding with his hammer. Every movement was excruciating, like an ice pick repeatedly striking his temple. Cold sweat clung to his brow.
He’d been working for Alyssa for nearly a week, which meant he was close to ten days sober. He’d presumed he would be past any physical withdrawal symptoms. Mostly that was the case, but there were moments, like this one, where he felt like he had on his first alcohol-free day.
It was as if his body had a peculiar, regressive muscle memory. A cold sweat covered his skin, his entire body ached, his hands shook with tremors and his head throbbed incessantly.
He wished he had someone to ask about what he was experiencing, someone who had been through withdrawal and who would know if what he was feeling was normal. But he was too ashamed to participate in a twelve-step program or have a sponsor and, anyway, there wasn’t a meeting within an hour’s drive. He didn’t have the time nor the inclination to make that much of a sacrifice.
No, he was going to conquer this all on his own. He’d used the internet to find out as much information on alcoholism as he could, facts he hoped would keep him from backsliding, but there were moments like this one that took every ounce of his willpower to battle.
He blew out an unsteady breath.
One sip and the shakes would go away. Two fingers in a tumbler and the black cloud that always covered his head would no longer threaten to rain on him.
But that was all an illusion, he reminded himself. Just because he numbed himself to the world didn’t mean it wasn’t there.
Alyssa had wasted no time putting Cash to work, and to his surprise, she’d put him on the payroll. He hadn’t expected that, but he gratefully accepted it all the same. Every dime he pocketed was something he could give to his baby. He wouldn’t say no to that.
And he was earning his keep. She needed six wooden storage shelving units built and four dozen new shelves cut, sanded and stained as part of her store renovation, using distressed wood to give the cabinets an old-fashioned appearance.
Building new shelves to mount boot displays on seemed a bit premature to Cash, since the new stock wasn’t slated to arrive for another few months yet.
It hadn’t taken much prompting for Alyssa to open up about her dreams for Emerson’s. She really did love the store and the work she did. Once Cash had got her talking about the renovation, she’d become surprisingly animated, though the stress lines etched on her forehead deepened.
“I have the exclusive opportunity to represent one of the most well-known Western wear companies in the nation—the Kickfire brand. Not only their specialty line of clothing,” she’d explained excitedly when she’d given him a tour of the store and described all the changes she wanted to make, “but their hats and boots, as well.”
“That’s awesome,” he told her. “They’re one of rodeo’s biggest sponsors. They even have a bareback bronc by the name of Kickfire.”
“It is a big honor for me to have pulled in the brand, but it’s also going to be quite a challenge. I’ve promised the company that my renovation will be done before Christmas. Ideally, their product line will be stocked before Black Friday, so folks can buy Kickfire Western wear to use as Christmas presents.”
“The people in Serendipity and surrounding towns are going to be stoked,” he assured her.
“I hope so. But I still have so much to do. I want to patch the drywall and repaint all the walls before the shelves you’re building can be hung. I’m also hoping to replace the wood flooring, if the budget allows. At this point some parts of the renovation are still very much up in the air.”
As far as Cash was concerned, she still had plenty of time before the beginning of the Christmas season to complete her detailed vision, but Alyssa appeared as anxious as if the entire load of stock was heading her way now.
Apparently, she wasn’t as certain as Cash was that she could pull it off. It was a lot to do. She wanted the grand reopening ready to go on Black Friday, with her store completely renovated, newly stocked and thoroughly decked out with Christmas decorations.
Bah humbug.
That was one part of her scheme Cash could do without. He didn’t have much use for Christmas and everything that went along with the season, and it was going to be pure torture for Alyssa to remind him of her holiday goals ten times a day, every day.
He’d be gone long before the Christmas season started, of course, but she was already talking about Christmas as if it were tomorrow. He didn’t even want to think of how obnoxiously her cup would runneth over with holiday cheer the closer she got to December 25.
Peace on Earth and goodwill toward men. Bright lights and Christmas carols. Deck the halls and joy to the world.
Stuff and nonsense, that’s all it was.
What was there to be cheerful about? This world and everything in it only caused strife and sorrow.
He was proof of it.
Aaron was proof of it.
Well, it wasn’t his problem. He had enough quandaries of his own to deal with, without accidentally allowing his relationship with Alyssa to become personal