Brodie: Texas Rascals Book 8

by Lori Wilde

  “Yes,” Emma said tightly, casting glances at the other two children snuggling against her. “It is bad when their father won’t grow up and assume responsibility for his family.”

  “I’m sorry,” Deannie apologized. “I spoke out of turn. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “You said nothing that wasn’t true.”

  “It might be true, but it was unkind. Please forgive me.”

  “What’s true?” Buster perked up.

  “Nothing, darling. Why don’t you take your sister and go get a diaper out of the diaper bag for me. Can you do that for Mommy?”

  “You betcha.” In an instant Buster was on his feet. “C’mon, Angel, let’s go.”

  Angel, for once in an acquiescent mood, took her brother’s hand and followed him out of the room.

  “Have a seat.” Emma patted the couch cushion beside her where Buster had been sitting. “Even though he’s tiny, it doesn’t take long for him to get heavy.”

  Deannie sank down next to Emma. The baby yawned widely and rubbed at his face with his little fists.

  “I have to watch what I say about Kenny in front of the kids. Little pitchers have big ears. They’ll be right back.”

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. Really, it’s none of my business,” Deannie replied, surprised at how frank and open Emma was about her marriage. “But Brodie told me you and Kenny were getting divorced, and I couldn’t help but think that was such a shame. You with a new baby and all.”

  Emma gulped, and Deannie could tell she was fighting tears. “Actually, it’s good to have someone to talk to. Most of my family lives in Midland, and though we’ve only just met, I have a feeling you and I will be great friends.”

  “You do?”

  Emma nodded. “Brodie sure was singing your praises.”

  “Really?” Deannie ducked her head.

  “He likes you.”

  “I like him, too.”

  “He’s a good man. Not at all like Rafe, and I hate to say it, my husband.”

  “What do you mean?” Deannie asked, knowing exactly what Emma meant. She was far too familiar with the flaws of the Trueblood clan, but Emma didn’t know that.

  Emma sighed. “Rafe, Brodie and Kenny’s dad, was larger than life; he could charm a raccoon out of a tree. But he was real polecat. He drank and gambled and chased women and broke his wife’s heart. Both Brodie and Kenny believe his behavior is what drove their mother to an early grave.”

  “How awful.”

  “Did you hear the story of how Rafe got his hands on a place like Willow Creek?”

  Deannie shook her head.

  “He won it in a poker game like some Wild West outlaw. Do you know what else he did?”

  “No,” Deannie said in a quiet whisper, the sleeping baby heavy in her arms.

  “He threw the real owner of the ranch out on the street in the middle of the night. The man and his seven-year-old daughter.” Emma clicked her tongue. “What kind of person does such a heartless thing?”

  Deannie froze at Emma’s words. What kind of person indeed?

  “I didn’t know Rafe back then. Apparently, he’d mellowed a lot by the time I came on the scene. You couldn’t help but like him, he was so friendly, but you knew never to trust him with your money.”

  “I don’t even see how you could like such a man.”

  “Oh, you know,” Emma waved a hand. “Rafe was a big flirt. Always paying compliments. Kenny took after him. He swept me off my feet. I was young. He was a motorcycle-riding bad boy. So exciting for a mousy minister’s daughter. By the time I realized that Kenny was never going to grow up, I was madly in love with him and two months pregnant with Buster.”

  Deannie said nothing. What could she say?

  “Things were fantastic in the beginning. Kenny attempted to settle down. He took a job in the oil fields. We rented a little two-bedroom house on Pinion Street. Sure, Kenny went out on Friday nights with his buddies, but I didn’t mind. He was bringing home good money, and we had everything we needed.”

  “So, what happened?”

  Emma sighed and toyed with a loose thread on her blouse. “After Angel was born, oil prices dipped, and Kenny got laid off.”

  Deannie made sympathetic noises.

  “He came to work for Brodie here at the ranch. But Kenny wanted to be the boss, and of course, Willow Creek is Brodie’s baby. He’s made this ranch what it is today. Not Rafe, not Kenny.”

  And not my father.” Must have been hard for all of you.”

  “Kenny came to work drunk one time too many, and Brodie fired him.”

  “Ouch.”

  “He offered to let us live here, but Kenny wouldn’t hear of it. That’s when things got bad. Kenny would hang out at the Lonesome Dove, drinking and gambling away our savings. If I said anything to him, he would fly into a rage and call me a nagging shrew.” Emma’s bottom lip trembled.

  “You don’t have to say any more.” Deannie patted the other woman’s arm.

  “I think I need to talk about it. To figure out what went wrong. I will say one thing for Kenny; I know he never cheated on me. At least I haven’t had to bear that cross.” Emma laced her fingers together and was silent for a moment.

  Deannie craned her neck to see into the other room. Where had Buster and Angel gotten off to? They should be back by now.

  “Then Rafe died, and the stuff really hit the fan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Rafe had been sick with liver failure for several months. We all knew it was getting near the end. I think Kenny had been counting on an inheritance to bail us out.”

  Deannie said nothing.

  “Turns out Rafe left everything to Brodie. Nobody was more shocked than Kenny. He and Rafe had been tight. They partied together, understood each other. I imagine Kenny thought he’d inherit Willow Creek over Brodie.”

  The clock on the mantel ticked loudly in the still room. Only the sound of the baby’s soft breathing disrupted the silence.

  “Kenny went off the deep end after that. We had a terrible fight, and I left him. Brodie invited me to stay here until I can figure out what I want to do.”

  “And you’ve decided on divorce?”

  “Deannie, what else can I do? I refuse to live the way Melinda lived all those years, loving a man who was so selfish he thought only of himself. I might have made some big mistakes in my life, but I’m not a total fool.”

  Deannie squeezed Emma’s hand, still worrying about the kids. “I’m so sorry.”

  Emma wiped an errant tear from her eye. “It’s hard, you know. Dealing with all this when you’re pregnant.”

  “I can only imagine.” Deannie shook her head again.

  “I still love Kenny. But I can’t take him back until he proves he’s willing and able to change for good. I’ve had enough. There’s only so much a woman can be expected to accept.”

  “Where did those kids get off to?” Deannie muttered.

  “My goodness, I’m so out of it.” Emma shook her head. “I’d forgotten I sent them off on a mission.”

  “I’ll go look.” Deannie handed Emma the baby, but before she could leave the room, the kids came back in.

  “Hey, Mama, we cou’dn’t finded no diaper bag in the mud room so we went upstairs,” Angel said, bouncing into the room ahead of her brother.

  Buster was scratching his head and looking puzzled.

  “What’s the matter, son?” Emma asked, pasting a smile on her face.

  “How come Uncle Brodie’s packing a suitcase?” Buster sank his hands on his little hips.

  Emma arched an eyebrow and looked at Deannie.

  Deannie shrugged. Brodie was leaving?

  Brodie appeared at the top of the stairs, two suitcases clutched in his hands.

  “What’s happening?” Emma demanded, staring at her brother-in-law.

  “Uh…well…I thought I’d give you ladies the run of the house,” he said.

  “What do y
ou mean?” Emma said. “Where are you going?”

  Brodie carefully avoided Deannie’s gaze. “With a new baby in the house, I thought you’d need your space. So I figured I’d hole up in the old log cabin for a few weeks.”

  “That’s absurd. I’m not turning you out of your house.”

  “Please, Emma, it’s as much your house as it is mine,” he insisted.

  “Brodie…”

  “I just need a little privacy.”

  “I see.” Emma chuckled. “You don’t want to be around for those two a.m. feedings and diaper changes.”

  Brodie headed out the door. Deannie felt a sudden urge to intercept him and find out what was going on. She followed him.

  “What’s this all about?” she asked, sinking her hands on her hips as he tossed his suitcases into the bed of the pickup truck.

  He avoided looking at her. “Kenny’s sober companion had a family emergency, and he needs me to help him stay on the straight and narrow. Please don’t tell Emma where he’s at.”

  “Is that the only reason you’re running away?” she asked. “Couldn’t you just hire Kenny another sober companion?”

  Brodie climbed into the cab and slammed the door shut. “What do you want me to say, Deannie? That after what happened yesterday, I can’t trust myself to keep my hands off you?”

  “Is it the truth?”

  He captured her eyes with his. “What do you think?”

  A thrill hurdled through her. Things were changing between them, shifting and evolving into something deep and complicated.

  “Would you like me to leave Willow Creek?” she asked.

  “No.” His response was swift and unequivocal. “You need a place to stay, and Emma needs someone to help her. She’s going to be upset when Kenny doesn’t come around for a while.”

  “What about you, Brodie? What do you need?”

  His eyes darkened. “I need you, Deannie. So badly I can taste it. That’s why I can’t stay in the same house with you. We don’t know enough about each other, and I’d hate for either of us to suffer third-degree burns from this runaway blaze between us.”

  That startled her. She watched as he threw the truck into gear and backed out of the driveway. Had she gotten to him? Her heart pitched at the thought. The answer, it seemed, was yes.

  Only trouble was, he’d gotten to her, too!

  13

  Seeing Deannie holding his baby nephew had done something crazy to Brodie’s brain. She looked sweet, so maternal that for one crazy moment, he’d pretended she was holding their baby.

  What the heck was that all about?

  It was a damn good thing the sober companion had a family emergency. It made for a handy excuse to leave. But even before that, he’d already decided to clear out of the house. Whenever he was around her, he ached to scoop her into his arms, take her into his bedroom, and make love to her all night long.

  It was too soon in their tenuous relationship for him to get this twisted up. Besides, a few weeks in Kenny’s company might do them both a world of good. Perhaps they could take a stab at repairing the rift between them.

  Killing the engine outside the log cabin, Brodie waved a hand to Kenny, who was busy putting on a new screen door.

  “Hey, little brother.” Kenny stopped working, ran the back of his hand across his forehead, and approached the truck. “How’s Emma?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “And the baby?”

  “He’s a good-looking boy.” Brodie got his suitcases out of the truck.

  “What’s this?”

  “I’m replacing your sober companion.”

  “You don’t have to babysit me. I’m finished with drinking for good, and I mean it. Losing my wife brought me to my senses. I don’t intend to end up like the old man.”

  “It’s not just about you.”

  “No?”

  “I need somewhere to stay.”

  Kenny whistled long and low, then grinned. “It’s that redhead, isn’t it?”

  Brodie didn’t answer.

  “It is the redhead. Are you falling for her?”

  “I’m not falling for her,” Brodie denied, but his pulse sped up.

  “I’ll be damned. I never thought ol’ stony-hearted Brodie would fall in love,” Kenny teased.

  “I’m not in love with her.”

  “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

  “I’m not.”

  Kenny raised both palms. “Hey, I’m not looking for a fight.”

  “Then stop picking one.”

  “Sure you don’t have a hangover?”

  “You know I don’t drink.”

  “Do your feelings have anything to do with what happened yesterday when me and the kids caught you alone out here with her?”

  “I told you what happened.” Brodie denied, but who was he kidding? He was falling for Deannie. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Cactus in the backside. A likely story.”

  “It’s true—” Brodie broke off, realizing Kenny was trying to get a rise out of him.

  Kenny snorted.

  “Why are you giving me a hard time? You’re the one in the hot seat.” He slung his arm over Kenny’s shoulders.

  “Go ahead, rub it in.” Grumbling good-naturedly, Kenny followed him into the cabin.

  It had been a long time since they’d kidded each other like this.

  All at once, a joyful feeling lifted Brodie’s spirits. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt so optimistic. Things seemed to fall into place at last. His brother had finally recognized his problem and was seeking help. His father had bequeathed him a thriving ranch, and the most beautiful woman in the world was living in his house.

  Brodie Trueblood was on the verge of having his every dream fulfilled at last. He needed a little patience and a little perseverance, but that was okay.

  He had all the time in the world.

  MAY FLOWED INTO JUNE, then June spilled over into July. The temperature flared hotter; the grass burned drier. Peaches clinging to the backyard trees went from hard green knots to lush ripe fruit that fell readily into waiting palms. Emma’s baby grew healthy and happy with constant attention.

  But with each passing day, Deannie’s heart sank heavier.

  Six weeks had elapsed since she had come home to Willow Creek Ranch. Six weeks spent lying, conniving, and manipulating. Six weeks of dodging guilt and battling fear of being found out. Six of the most miserable weeks of her life.

  Oh, she was contented enough with her day-to-day. Chasing after Buster and Angel kept her occupied. She fed them, bathed them, dressed them. She read stories and took them on pony rides. She slipped into her bathing suit and splashed with the children in the lawn sprinkler. She braided Angel’s hair and fussed over Buster when he made a fist, flexed his biceps, and proudly showed her his “muscles.”

  But mentally, emotionally, she was a wreck.

  Coming home had not brought the peace of mind she assumed it would bring. No matter how hard she tried, Deannie could not stop thinking about Brodie. She saw him around the ranch as he did his chores and joined them for meals. He was pleasant and didn’t avoid conversation with her, but he kept things light and polite and made sure they were never alone together.

  He’d burrowed under her skin but good, and the thought of when he found out about her deception, he’d feel so betrayed sat like an anchor on her shoulders. He trusted her when he shouldn’t. He’d opened his home to her. He’d given her a job and treated her as if she were family.

  She’d gone to the cabin once to check on Kenny’s progress, but he’d told her it was best if she stayed away and let Kenny heal in his own time.

  With each passing day, tension mounted as Deannie struggled with her internal turmoil.

  It reminded Deannie of that old musical Seven Brides for Seven Brothers where the naughty menfolk were banished to the barn for the winter. It felt like that, so close to Brodie, and yet, so far. She and Emma
living in the big rambling farmhouse with the kids, with Kenny and Brodie isolated in the log cabin, miles from the ranch’s main hub. Even though Emma had no idea what was going on.

  “Quarter for your thoughts.” Emma’s voice shook her out of her worrying that early July afternoon.

  “Huh?”

  Deannie looked up from where they sat shelling peas at the kitchen table. The smell of brisket in the smoker on the back patio wafted in through the open window. The baby was sleeping in his bassinet beside them. Angel and Buster sat on the floor making Fourth of July decorations for the upcoming holiday with construction paper, glitter, and paste.

  “You’ve been so far away lately,” Emma prodded. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

  “No,” Deannie murmured.

  “I wish Kenny would call,” Emma fretted. “I can’t believe he hasn’t even come by to see the baby.”

  “Maybe he found a job out of town,” Deannie said.

  “Not very likely. He’s probably living at the Lonesome Dove. Deannie, I know Kenny has his faults, but I always thought he loved me and the kids.” Emma sniffled.

  “Don’t give up hope.” She leaned over to pat Emma’s hand. “Maybe your ultimatum woke him up. Anyone can change if they want it badly enough.”

  “If that’s true, then where is he?” Emma pressed the hem of her shirt against her eyes to stay the tears.

  “Maybe he went to rehab?”

  “On what? We’re broke.”

  Deannie glanced out the window and spied Brodie striding up the walk. Joy leaped in her heart. Oh! He was so handsome with his straw Stetson clutched in his hands. Her arms ached to hold him; her lips longed to kiss him.

  He knocked at the back door before opening it. “Hi!” He greeted everyone with a wide smile, but his gaze slid over Deannie. He lowered his voice, met her eyes directly, and repeated, “Hi.”

  “Hey,” she whispered.

  “Hello, stranger,” Emma said. “Whatcha been up to?”

  “Getting that cabin straightened up.”

  “When are you going to move back in here?” Emma asked. “It’s plumb ridiculous you hiding out in that cabin just because I had a baby. Phillip is only waking up once a night now.”