Nothing But Cowboy

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Nothing But Cowboy Page 10

by Justine Davis


  “What, you mean it’s not like on TV and done in half an hour?” she said dryly.

  He didn’t laugh. “There’s a newer kind of test that can match out as far as second cousins.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Neither did I. Or Shane, for that matter, but Sean did. That’s the kind of thing he keeps up with. But this test takes longer. And since it’s not part of a police case, they can’t put a rush on it.”

  “I’d think the chief would put in a word, good buddies that you are. Surely just his position carries weight.”

  “It does. As does his name, anywhere in Texas and a good many places all over the country. But he wouldn’t. Only time he’s ever used that weight for personal reasons was to find his missing brother.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Wait, which brother was missing?”

  “Kane. The youngest brother.”

  “The handyman. Lark’s fiancé?” At his nod she asked, “He was missing?” Was this the long story Lark had alluded to?

  “For nearly thirteen years.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wow. What—”

  “Long story. And not—”

  “Yours to tell. Yeah, I’ve been getting that a bit.”

  He shrugged. “Lot of history in this town. Old and new.”

  “Including yours.”

  He went still. “Mine?”

  “I’m just looking out for my cousin. And that would include knowing more about the man who took him in.”

  He stood up abruptly. “That,” he said flatly, “is none of your business until and unless we know you’re really his cousin.”

  She frowned suddenly. “Wait, does that mean you’re going to try to stop me from even seeing him until those results come back?”

  “No.” She felt a rush of relief. It lasted until she realized that answer could be interpreted two ways, that he wouldn’t stop her, or…that he wouldn’t try, he would succeed.

  Before she could formulate a response he turned on his heel, toward the doors. “Keller?” she said before he took a step. He stopped. And it was a moment before he looked back. She wondered if it was because this was the first time she’d called him by his first name to his face. Or his back, as it were.

  “What?” He sounded just as frosted as he had when he’d stood up.

  “Thanks for the lemonade,” she said.

  He let out a short, compressed breath. She couldn’t tell if he was irritated or amused. “You’re welcome.”

  She watched him head for the door, once more pondering the way he moved, with that long-legged, powerful stride.

  And enjoying the view a little too much.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “What’s going on?”

  Keller looked at Lucas, who stood there with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face as he spoke in a demanding tone. Inwardly, he was glad to hear that tone, because it meant the boy felt secure enough to use it.

  “I’m guessing you don’t mean this,” he said, nodding at the fence they had been working on repairing since Lucas had gotten home from school.

  Lucas gave him the kind of look the deflection deserved. “I’m not stupid. You’re all looking at me funny. You have been all week.”

  “It’s only Tuesday,” Keller pointed out.

  “So you’re gonna be stupid?”

  Keller couldn’t help it, he grinned. “Got me.”

  That seemed to relax the boy a little. He’d been pondering what to say when the kid inevitably realized something was going on—Lucas was smart, and quick—but all he knew for sure was the most important thing. The truth. So he started with that.

  “I won’t lie to you, Lucas. There is something going on, but I’m not sure you need to worry about it yet, if ever. If you do, I promise you I’ll tell you.”

  Lucas’s brow furrowed. “But you’re worried about it?”

  “A little. But I’m waiting on some news before I get really worried.”

  “News?”

  He hadn’t wanted to use the word evidence because of the implications; Lucas indeed was far from stupid. “Just something that’s being checked on. Once I know that, then the…problem will either go away and be forgotten, or we’ll have a full family meeting about it to decide what to do.”

  Lucas dropped his gaze, studied the toes of the shoes they’d surreptitiously borrowed from Cody. It was a moment before the boy said, quietly, “Does that include me?”

  “Of course it does, cowboy,” Keller said, putting as much support as he could into the words. It was funny, how he’d only been considering making this permanent, adopting the kid, but now that it was possible he might not be able to, it had solidified into actually wanting that. Want to know how much you want something, just have somebody come along and threaten to take it away. He shook off the thought and focused on reassuring Lucas. “But for right now, let the adults worry about it.”

  Lucas’s mouth twisted wryly. “Maybe I’m not in such a hurry to get older after all.”

  Keller couldn’t help laughing. “That wisdom right there proves you are growing up. But to grow up you have to eat, and if we don’t finish this fence, Mom will never feed us again.”

  Lucas’s head came up sharply. “You mean we’d have to eat your cooking?”

  “Or worse, Chance’s.”

  “Yikes,” Lucas said, with an appropriate amount of horror.

  “Yeah. You know what that means. If it can’t be eaten as it comes, doesn’t come out of a sealed packet, or can’t be tossed in a microwave, Chance doesn’t do food.”

  “Then why does he do the grocery shopping so much?”

  “Because everybody’s got to pull their weight. He doesn’t cook, so he has to go get the stuff to be cooked.” Keller suspected that solution had also been Mom’s way to make sure Chance had some human interaction, otherwise he’d probably hole up in his cabin in the west quadrant with his dogs and never come out.

  “Oh,” Lucas said. Then, brow furrowed, he asked, “He doesn’t always eat with us, though.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “Is that because of his dogs?”

  “A lot of the time, yes.” But not all.

  “I think it’s cool, that he gives a home to the military dogs no one else will take.”

  Keller smiled, although it wasn’t a steady one. “So do we, buddy.”

  And not just for the sake of the dogs. Sometimes he thought the only reason his brother was still around was to see to them, and he hated the idea. But Chance had been through so much, had paid not just a physical cost, but the price of his peace of mind to serve his country.

  Just as their father had paid the ultimate price.

  It was after dinner—during which he’d warned Cody that Britt was after him for spooking one of her horses again—when Lucas had gone off to his room to do his homework that Mom turned those vivid blue eyes on him and asked, “Any news on the newcomer front?”

  He gave them the rundown on what had happened today, both the news from Shane and his unexpected encounter with Sydney Brock.

  For Chance, this was the first he’d heard of the business she’d begun. “So she’s not likely after money. Either from Lucas, or us, to buy her off.”

  “No,” Keller said.

  “I’ve checked out that company,” Rylan said, surprising them. “I did it after Mom gave me that carving. Found out they carry stuff from some people I’ve met.”

  “Other artists, you mean?” Keller asked.

  Rylan grimaced. Keller knew he never considered himself an artist, but rather a craftsman. But the rest of the country had hung that tag on him, and it had stuck. “Yeah. People who probably wouldn’t be able to sell their work otherwise, at least not enough to make a living. They’re doing a good thing.”

  “Do you feel differently about her now that you’ve spent a little…less antagonistic time with her?” Mom asked Keller, rather carefully.

  “My mother, the soul of tact,” Keller teased.

>   “I have my moments,” she said with a grin. “And I have all evening to wait for an answer,” she added.

  He smothered a sigh. “She said her parents don’t know or care where she is or what she’s doing. That she’s never felt about anywhere the way we feel about Texas. She was in awe about our ancestors at the last stand, and was amazed that they thought of their children then. She even said she could…feel them there, the fighters, as if their spirits linger.” He took a deep breath. “And she had tears in her eyes when she talked about us being a real family.”

  “Well, damn,” Chance muttered.

  “My sentiments exactly,” Keller said.

  “You feeling sorry for her, big bro?” Cody asked.

  Keller thought of the woman he’d seen so far, her quick wit, the toughness it had taken to survive her early life—and her parents—and the smarts and effort it had likely taken to build a worldwide business. And he thought of the way she’d sounded talking about the spirit of those who had fought, and about never having felt that way about anyplace she’d ever been, which he already knew was a very, very long list.

  And then he thought of her eyes, and the way tears had pooled there, as she was no doubt thinking of her parents. Neglectful, uncaring, apparently even abusive, emotionally anyway. And yet she’d still done what she’d done, turned her life and her travels into a successful enterprise.

  “No,” he said slowly. “She’s not the kind of woman you feel sorry for.”

  Admire? Respect? Marvel at? Yes, all that.

  Get the hots for?

  Uh-oh.

  Okay, so she was beautiful. Even with the two-tone hair. Which was really a silly thing to get stuck on, considering the owner of the most popular hair salon in town, Bella’s, had at one time or another had her hair every color of the rainbow, and sometimes all at once. He remembered seeing her and her husband, Dr. Graham McBride, at the Christmas ball last year, and she’d done a red and green thing with sparkly stuff that had everybody smiling.

  He, of course, had been there with his mother. And fortunately, she was of such standing in town that nobody was about to comment on the fact that yet again the oldest Rafferty was dateless. Well, except his mother herself; she had no shortage of opinion on his stubbornly single status, which he had no intention of changing. He’d done that once, and it had descended into ugly chaos so quickly it had been embarrassing.

  No, he’d stick with the occasional fling or short-term connection where everybody was clear on what would and wouldn’t come of it. No expectations that would go unfulfilled. No trusting your heart to someone who would inevitably break it. Someone who never intended to stay.

  “A real family,” his mother said, very quietly. “From everything you’ve told us, it seems as if she has no idea what that even is.”

  “She doesn’t,” Keller confirmed.

  “Then how does she expect to build one with Lucas?”

  “Good point,” Ry said.

  “She got a plan, or is she just going to charge in blind?” Chance asked.

  Good questions, Keller thought. And he should have thought of them himself. And long before now. But no, he was too distracted by a pair of golden eyes, the quick brain behind them, and a swath of two-tone hair.

  But that, he vowed, was going to change.

  *

  Sydney had done this before, stopped in a local place to adjust her attire so she didn’t stand out so much wearing what she’d had on from wherever she’d flown in from, but she had to admit few places had fascinated her like this one had. The name alone had brought her in; how often did you get to shop in a place called Yippee Ki Yay?

  She’d picked out a pair of utilitarian lace-up boots and some jeans that would fit over them, and was wandering the store just looking when a display caught her eye. She walked over and found herself staring in no small amount of awe at the intricate carvings on the small selection of leather belts. One had a field of bluebonnets in seemingly impossible detail, while another had an amazing panorama of the Hill Country between two Lone Star flags. She’d seen this kind and quality of work before, and recently. And if her suspicions were correct—

  Before she could finish the thought the clerk who had helped her find the boots came up beside her.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “They are,” she agreed. “Amazing craftsmanship.”

  The woman smiled. “The creator would be glad to hear you say that. We keep trying to call him an artist, and he denies it.”

  She thought her suspicion was now confirmed, but she asked anyway. “He’s local?”

  “Oh, yes. Rylan Rafferty. He’s a famous saddlemaker, but he does these just for us.” The woman grinned. “And if you think this work is gorgeous, you ought to see him.”

  She smiled and asked, “Does he live here in town?”

  “No, he’s out on their ranch, west of here. All of the Raffertys are.”

  Before Sydney could ask anything else, the woman had to leave to answer a ringing phone. Sydney left with her boots, jeans, and information she’d needed but not expected to find so easily. She wanted one of the belts, too, but decided it might be best to wait on that.

  Back at the inn later, Sydney stared at her tablet screen as she sat near the creek, under the big pecan tree. It was fairly early in the day, but she could feel the heat building already, and was thankful for the shade. She wasn’t acclimated to Texas, and the forecast she’d glanced at said it was going to be an unseasonably hot spring day. Which apparently happened often enough that she wondered if that “unseasonable” really applied.

  She’d read the article that was now on the screen repeatedly—she’d lost track of how many times—because it had taken a while for her to process that she was reading about the deaths of people she’d never known existed, people she was related to, by blood. Family she had never known, never had the chance to know.

  But this time something else had registered. That it would be exactly a year since the accident in just a couple of days. She wondered how her cousin felt about that.

  They adored him and he knew it.

  Keller Rafferty’s words echoed in her head. He’d said them with such certainty she knew it had to be true.

  She wondered what it was like, to grow up knowing your parents loved you that much. What it must have been like to be a part of the family, not just a tagalong they had to tolerate. What it must have been like to have been welcomed, wanted.

  It must have made losing them…horrific.

  Her stomach knotted. She wanted to hug him, hold him, tell him he wasn’t really alone, that he had at least one relative left who cared. But she also knew that it would be a shock to him, since he’d grown up as ignorant as she had, lied to every step of the way.

  Her breath caught. His parents had lied to him. Those loving parents he was grieving had lied to him. She’d been so furious with her own parents, she hadn’t really thought about it from Lucas’s point of view. She would have expected it from her parents, but from what Keller had said, Lucas would likely never have expected it from his.

  And she hadn’t really thought about the fact that her appearance now meant he would have to know that, accept that. And she couldn’t see any way around that except more lying to him.

  It was all starting to give her a headache. She wished she had someone she trusted to talk to about it. But since it was hardly something she liked to discuss, few people had a clue about her parents.

  Except Keller Rafferty.

  That brought her up short. The idea that a man she’d just met, and a man who was, at least for the moment, an adversary, was the only one who had an inkling about the truth of her family, was disconcerting. True, there was also the intimidating police chief, and the sweet, kind Lark Leclair, but no one knew as much as Keller did.

  Sure. Why don’t you just go to him, pour out some more of your pitiful story, and convince him even more you shouldn’t be allowed anywhere around Lucas?

  “Yo
u’re looking pretty grim.”

  She looked up, startled, to see the handyman looking down at her. “Oh. Hi. Yes.”

  Well, that sounded stupid, but she guessed any female would be forgiven for forgetting how to talk for a moment; the man was uncannily beautiful. That face, those multicolored hazel eyes, the pure grace of his movements, and that was not even counting his incredible voice.

  Oddly, she found that while she could admire him, she preferred Keller’s more rough-hewn, rugged male beauty.

  She tried to gather herself. “I’m just…thinking.”

  “Good place for it,” he said, taking a seat on the ledge a couple of feet away and indicating what had become her favorite spot at the Hickory Creek Inn with a nod. “Done a share myself here.”

  She smiled at him, then said rather wryly, “If I could just calm my brain down a bit, it would help.”

  To her surprise, he chuckled. “You’re talking to the wrong guy. I’m kind of all or nothing when it comes to thinking.” Then his expression changed as he added softly, “And sometimes my thinking turns out to be all wrong.”

  “Wrong?”

  “I spent a lot of years believing a lie.”

  She went still. She felt her cheeks heat. “Who told you? Your brother? No, wait, your fiancée. Did she blab my whole sad story?”

  He shrugged. “Lark would never do that. She only said you’d been lied to, a big lie, all your life. She knew I could relate.”

  She remembered what Keller had told her about this man being missing for all those years. Wondered if they’d believed him dead, as she had believed her aunt and uncle to be dead. “Wanna compare lies?” she asked with a grimace. “I’ll go first. I spent my whole life believing I had no family other than my parents, only to find out I had an aunt and uncle who by all accounts were much better, nicer people.” She grimaced. “Maybe that’s why my parents lied to me, because they knew that.”

  “Maybe their own heads were messed up,” he suggested.

  She wasn’t sure she was willing to grant them even that much dispensation. “What was your lie?”

 

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