Nothing But Cowboy

by Justine Davis

  “I spent thirteen years believing I murdered the man who was my father in all but blood.”

  She felt her jaw drop. She stared at him. “That’s what you believed?”

  “Down to my bones, until it even distorted my memories. And letting go of that lie was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

  “I…wow.”

  “Yeah. And I never would have been able to do it without Lark.”

  “She’s…an amazing woman.”

  “That she is. Besides all the other reasons I love her, she’s the most caring person I’ve ever met.” His expression shifted slightly. “And she says Keller Rafferty is one of the best people she knows. That’s why she went to bat for him, when he wanted to foster Lucas.”

  “Seems to be the universal opinion around here. Too bad he hates me.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Well,” she amended, “I’m sure he doesn’t trust me.”

  “He gets a little protective of the people he cares about. But he’s a good guy. If you give him a chance to be. Just be honest with him.” His mouth quirked. “I’d say you know as well as I do what damage a lie can do. Don’t let it do more than it already has.”

  She sat there long after Kane Highwater had left her to go about his varied duties. She was tempted to follow him, in the hopes he’d start singing and she could just listen. But she had some things to work out. She’d had a lot of experience in getting reluctant artists or craftspeople to let her take their work wide. Surely she could convince one man to at least give her a chance?

  She sat there by the creek until she had a plan. And then, because it was her way, she set out to implement it, first thing in the morning.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Keller watched his brother deal with the clearly unsettled dog from a safe distance. He’d learned enough to know staying stock-still was his best course of action, once he’d seen the animal’s ears go down and its hackles up. At first he’d seemed curious, but once Keller had dismounted and taken a step toward him, the demeanor had changed with a jolting swiftness. It took Chance a good two minutes of talking, so quietly Keller couldn’t hear him, to soothe the ruffled, battle-weary veteran.

  Takes one to know one.

  If there was an axiom that fit his brother’s work with these animals, that was it. Chance took on the tough ones, the edgy ones, the ones others had written off. The ones who’d been headed for a needle full of life-ending drugs, because no one could or would risk handling them. But Chance took them on, and he worked as long as it took. And if the dog who had risked its life to protect its pack—be it a platoon or an individual soldier—never was able to adapt to a new, peaceful life enough to be placed in another home, then he kept it.

  He only had three permanent residents right now. And Keller knew at least two of them would die to protect Chance. The problem was, his brother said, their threat assessment was off. As in anyone, human or animal, that came too close was a threat.

  The third one was this new arrival, a scarred and battered Belgian Malinois Chance had gone to get two months ago, when he’d gotten word the dog had landed on the euthanasia list after over a year of effort on the part of the military program to rehab him. His handler—a man Chance had once served with—had been killed by a suicide bomber, and the dog had barely survived, losing his left front leg. He’d been shipped home, but once there seemed to view everyone as the enemy. He’d be dead now if one of Chance’s contacts hadn’t called him. Keller didn’t envy him the task of trying to get through to the traumatized creature.

  Once he had the dog safely in the run—which was, Chance had explained, in the dog’s mind, a safe place where no one could get to him—he approached again.

  “Need something?” Chance asked as he reached him.

  “Just making sure you remember we’re heading to Kerrville Saturday.”

  “I remember.” Chance wasn’t a social sort, but he knew the same thing they all did about Mom’s orders: they were to be followed. “How’s the kid doing?”

  “About like you’d expect.”

  Chance gave a weary shake of his head. The weariness fit the touch of premature gray at his temples, and the seen-too-much look in the blue eyes that were a direct gift from their mother. “He’s on a tough road.”

  “Double what we went through,” Keller said.

  “And add in the…unexpectedness.”

  Keller knew Chance meant that with their father being deployed several times, the chance of his death had been ever-present, although rarely mentioned. “Yeah. Anyway, Mom wants to leave right after breakfast, so you might as well come up and eat with us.”

  He waited, wondering if his brother’s isolationist tendency would have him saying he’d get there on his own. So he could quietly fade away as soon as he’d fulfilled the family obligation. He could almost see the conflict going on in Chance’s mind.

  “I’ll just—”

  “He needs us all for this, the first time,” Keller said quietly.

  His brother gave in with a sigh as weary as that distant look in his eyes. But his voice was steadier. “All right.” His mouth twisted, and his tone was lighter when he added, “But the food better be worth it.”

  “Got to be better than that breakfast in a box stuff you live on,” Keller countered, relieved at the shift.

  Chance flipped a rude gesture at him, and Keller laughed. “How’s Dodger doing?” he asked.

  “Good,” Chance said. “Really good.”

  The German shepherd Chance had taken on nearly six months ago had made great strides. Chance had deduced early on the too-clever animal needed work to do and had had the idea of trying to get him to revert to his roots. The dogs had initially been bred for herding, and Chance had hoped he could call that up in the quicksilver animal. So far it seemed to be working; in a very short time Dodger had gotten the general idea, and the same intensity that had made him so good at his military work had him already handling small groups of cattle.

  “Think he’ll make it to where we can use him on the ranch?”

  “He met Quinta the other day,” Chance said, referring to their mother’s perfectly trained—by Chance—dog, “and they got along, so I think so.” Keller was glad to hear the satisfaction in his brother’s voice. And so he was caught off guard when Chance abruptly shifted the subject. “Heard you ran into the wannabe cousin in town.”

  “Who told you that?” Keller asked sourly; he knew Chance only went into Last Stand when he had to, because he only went anywhere when he had to.

  “Cody.”

  “How’d he know?”

  Chance shrugged, then grinned, enough of a rarity that Keller found himself half smiling back just to see it. “Maybe he had a drone following you.”

  “Now that wouldn’t surprise me,” Keller said.

  “So how was it?”

  “She’s…determined.” Among all the other things she was.

  “Do you believe her?”

  “I’m waiting for the test results.” That didn’t seem like enough for some reason, so he added, “I believe she thinks it’s true.”

  “If it is,” Chance said, “then what’s she’s doing is…admirable.”

  Depending on what exactly her plan is. “I guess.”

  “Could be good for the kid.”

  “Yes. At least, until she takes off again, on one of her world tours.” Keller studied his brother for a moment. “You’ve seen a lot more of the world than I have. Is it worth it?”

  Chance’s mouth twisted wryly. “I’ve seen chunks of it, yes. But usually only when they were in chaos. Don’t recommend that.”

  Keller gave a slow shake of his head. “I’m just glad you made it back.”

  Chance lowered his gaze, as if his old, scarred combat boots were somehow new and strange to him. And he didn’t answer. Worry spiked through Keller, as it always did when his brother withdrew like that. And as he mounted up for the ride back to the main house, he was trying n
ot to think about the number of veterans who committed suicide every damned day.

  He was about halfway back when his phone beeped Cody’s signal.

  Hey, bro. Incoming.

  Keller stared at the screen as an image slowly loaded. Cell reception on this section of the ranch, in a word, sucked. He suspected that was one reason Chance had chosen this sector for his facilities, the other being the old cabin that had already been there.

  After a moment there was enough for him to see it was an aerial photo.

  Cody’s been playing with his drones again.

  The image filled in from the top, until he saw the roof of a car he didn’t recognize. And then, through the side window, he saw a head. The image stalled there for several seconds, and wasn’t that clear through the window glass anyway, but it didn’t matter. He’d known who it was the moment he’d seen the two-tone hair.

  When? he texted back.

  Nearly live. She’s through the gate just now. It’s her, isn’t it?

  We need a lock on that damn thing. Yeah. Heading in. Ten minutes out at a run. Can you play interference?

  Stall a beautiful woman? Hmm… The emoji that followed was vaguely obscene.

  Never said she was beautiful. She was, but he’d never said it, not to his incorrigible little brother.

  Right. Take your time, bro.

  Keller stuffed the phone in his pocket, wheeled Blue around, and let the horse loose. The animal hadn’t had a good hard run in a couple of days, and he threw his heart into it. Especially now, when he knew they were headed for the barn. And for these few minutes, before he had to face what awaited, he just let himself savor the near perfection of a full-tilt run through his beloved Hill Country with a great horse under him.

  When they were within sight of the ranch house, Keller pulled Blue down to a fast walk. The horse, his blood still up despite the sweat that had broken out on him, tossed his head in protest but settled into the pace. Just as well, he thought as he did so, even this early in the day it was hot enough the animal was going to need some cooling out.

  He saw the two figures, still out on the front porch. Cody had obviously done as asked, and stalled her. He was no expert at body language, but something about the way Sydney Brock was standing, her arms crossed in front of her, and her head tilted slightly as she looked at Cody, told him she wasn’t happy. Which should make him happy, given she’d shown up again without notice.

  “All yours, bro,” Cody said the moment he pulled Blue to a halt and dismounted, all in the same motion. Keller read clearly his brother’s desire to escape. So it hadn’t gone well, for all Cody’s protestations about beautiful women.

  Keller could have warned him. She’s a beautiful woman with a mindset of her own and a stubborn streak.

  “Fine,” he said to his brother. “But if you want out, you can see to Blue.”

  “Gladly,” Cody said, and jumped down from the porch and grabbed the reins. “Come on, sweaty nag, let’s get you cooled down.”

  Keller instinctively took off his hat, then ran a hand through his hair. He felt a bit sweaty himself, but if Ms. World Traveler was going to just drop in like this, she could take what she got. This was a working ranch, not a dude camp. He tossed the hat onto the small table next to the porch chairs, then pulled a bandanna out of his back pocket and leaned down to turn the spigot on the garden faucet. It was his mother’s pride and joy, this flower garden outside the front door where she kept things growing through the worst of the Texas summer heat.

  He wet the cloth, then wiped his face with it before slinging it around his neck. Then he straightened, and for a moment just looked at her. She was dressed more casually today, almost as if she were adapting. Jeans—nice and snug but not city-tight and skinny—and a T-shirt almost the color of her eyes, made out of something that clung to all the right places. Even her shoes were more utilitarian today, a pair of low-heeled lace-up leather boots instead of the shiny, never-seen-dirt boots, although these looked brand-new.

  “Run out of patience, did you?” he drawled when she didn’t speak.

  Her chin came up, and he belatedly realized he’d said those words that way just to see exactly that reaction. “I wanted to come while Lucas was still in school. So you couldn’t accuse me of trying to trick my way into meeting him.”

  He had to admit that if she had shown up while Lucas was home, he might have thought just that. “Points to you,” he acknowledged.

  He leaned one shoulder against the post of the covered porch. He kept his tone light; he didn’t want to antagonize her into doing something that would somehow rebound on Lucas. Because it was looking more and more likely that her tale was true.

  “So why are you back here?” he asked.

  She drew in a deep breath. Uncrossed her arms. A sign? Of what? “I presume you—or your best friend, the chief—have checked up on me?”

  “Six ways from Sunday, as Shane puts it.” At her expression he chuckled. “Just another Shane-ism. He’s got a ton of them.”

  She seemed startled at even that small laugh. “I can imagine,” she said. Then took another deep breath before going on. “If he checked, then you know I don’t have a criminal record or any outstanding warrants and have never actually had a direct encounter with the police before, except for once in—”

  “London.”

  She blinked. “I…yes. He found that?”

  “Sean did. Man never stops until he’s got all there is to get. And that London thing was hardly a negative. They told him you stopped a potential rape, maybe worse.”

  She nodded. “She was just a child. And so scared.”

  “So mega-points to you, then,” he said. “But what does that have to do with why you’re here now?”

  “I just wanted to be sure you know I’m…not a bad person. I’m not some con artist, and I have no ulterior motive.”

  In truth, he’d reached that conclusion yesterday, at the saloon. Her reaction to the history, specifically his family’s history, had convinced him of that much.

  “So let’s say I know that,” he said. “That still doesn’t answer why you’re here now. Before we know for sure that your connection to Lucas is what you say it is.”

  For the third time she drew in a breath, the deepest yet. Whatever her motive, this was not something she was doing lightly, or carelessly.

  “I want to ask you if you will…let me meet Lucas if I swear not to tell him who I am.”

  He hadn’t expected that. He frowned. “And just who do you suggest we tell him you are?”

  “Maybe…a friend?”

  “He already knows the family friends.”

  “Maybe just of yours, then.”

  “He knows all of them, too.” She just looked at him for a moment. “You really don’t get small towns, do you? Everybody knows everybody.”

  She sighed. “What about an old school friend or something?”

  “Creekbend High School. An even smaller sort of town.” His gaze narrowed. “And before you ask, no I didn’t take off for some fancy college in the east.”

  “Why not? You’re obviously smart.”

  “Maybe that’s why, huh?” he said in a saccharine tone. He’d had enough of people who assumed a college degree was a necessary component of a successful life. And he wasn’t about to discuss the reason he’d abandoned even the idea of college after his father had been killed in action.

  To his surprise, she laughed. When he lifted a brow at her, she said, “That’s what I’ve always said. That I was too smart to go to college.”

  He frowned again. “But your bio said—”

  “I did go, eventually. Because I had to learn some business and accounting things. But it was reluctantly, believe me.”

  He studied her for a moment. Thought about her life, where she’d been, what she’d done. “I’ll bet you learned more from your life than most of them could ever learn in school.”

  She looked startled. He winced inwardly; maybe he’d been a little
hard on her, if a simple compliment like that could surprise her. “I did learn a lot. About different places, and ways of doing things, and how people are both different and the same, no matter where they come from. Things I’d like to…tell Lucas.”

  Keller didn’t doubt that would be fascinating to the kid. Heck, it’d be fascinating to him. “So we’re back to who do we tell him you are.”

  She gave him a sideways look. “I suppose new girlfriend is out of the question?”

  He drew back sharply. Hell yes, it is. He managed a short laugh to cover his reaction to the idea. “Nobody’d believe that.”

  “Why? Are you gay?”

  He refused to react; he’d already betrayed too much. “Straight as Main Street,” he drawled.

  “So I’m just not your type?”

  Hardly. Hard being the operative part of that word at the moment.

  He tried to shake off his reaction. One little joking suggestion—it had been a joke, hadn’t it?—and he was suddenly hot for her? Sure, he’d been very aware she was an attractive woman from the first time he’d opened the door to her, but this, this was something different. It was what he’d started to feel in the saloon, only heightened and honed to a much, much sharper edge.

  “I don’t do girlfriends,” he said flatly.

  She looked at him consideringly, then quietly said, “Too bad.”

  She was completely disconcerting him, and he didn’t like the feeling. She’d begun as a ripple in his quiet, peaceful, chosen life. He could deal with that. Life threw ripples at everyone, all the time. But it was starting to feel like more of a storm surge now, or like the creek building to a spring flood.

  “Rylan Rafferty is your brother,” she said abruptly then, startling him in turn.

  What the hell?

  “Yeah. So?”

  “I know his work. It’s amazing. Incredibly detailed and utterly beautiful. Not just the belts on sale in town, I saw one of his saddles on display in Dallas, at a Western Museum there.”

  He stared at her anew. “You just happened to be there, or was this part of your research on our rustic, unsophisticated way of life here?”