by Liza Kendall
He remembered how in love with Charlie Jake had been in high school. And he also remembered how heartbroken his brother had been when she’d left him behind.
Rhett evaluated her fresh, blond good looks. He had never been in love with anyone like that. And now that Jake had his girl back . . . was going to marry this girl, Rhett considered it all a blessing. He sure wasn’t going to hold the past against her.
It should go without saying.
“With Rhett home, it’s like we have a Braddock quorum for the first time since . . . since . . .” Lila looked around and her voice faltered.
Since our parents died?
“Since forever! Maybe Ace’ll come home for the holidays this year,” she finished.
Fat chance. Rhett was regularly in touch with Ace, a pro baseball player who’d gotten out of Silverlake as fast as he could. If only Ace had been the one with the supercharged brains, maybe Rhett could’ve stayed here in town. Anyhow, Ace wasn’t coming back until he couldn’t play ball anymore, and as long as he kept himself out barroom brawls, he should be fine enjoying life with his “real” family, the Austin Lone Stars baseball team.
“I followed the recipe, I swear!” Lila was saying.
Rafael’s dark brows knit together as he peered down into whatever awful concoction Lila was brewing. He sighed and shook his head. “Me duele la cabeza,” he muttered.
“Don’t worry,” Lila said, “It’s a practice run.” She looked up at Rhett. “Spicy Mole Gravy! It’s Rafi’s family recipe.”
“Maybe Rafi should make it, then?” Grady asked, coming up behind the folks at the stove and peering into the saucepan. He winced and pulled back.
“It’s good . . . for a . . . first try,” Rafael said loudly. He started to back away from the stove, but Mick plunked his big hands on his squad mate’s shoulders and held him by Lila’s side. “Don’t even think about abandoning your post, man.”
Rafi gave him a withering look but gamely looked back into the saucepan, blinking rapidly as the fumes made his eyes water.
Rhett rolled up his sleeves and joined the others at the stove in the firehouse kitchen. He peered into the pot at a thoroughly unappetizing brown mess. “Wow. Just . . . wow.” He stepped away.
“Guys,” Lila said, her face going serious. “This should be . . . more. Bigger.”
Rafael took the saucepan off the burner. “It really shouldn’t,” he said.
“I’m not talking about the mole,” Lila said, putting down her ladle and untying the Mick-sized firehouse apron engulfing her body. “We should have a big, group Fool Fest Finale Feast for any off-duty firefighters and extended family. We’re all working overtime to pull it off, so we deserve a wrap-up party! Silverlake Ranch can handle a lot of people. We’ll ask Declan. He’ll probably love the idea.”
“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Jake said.
“Why the hell do we need Declan’s permission to have a party at our parents’ house?” Rhett asked. His voice sounded surprisingly bitter in his own ears. His two siblings stared at him. An awkward lull settled over the kitchen.
Then Mick—who was probably grateful for something to do other than figure out how to dispose of the stinking mass of burned mole sauce—put a hand on Rhett’s shoulder and saved the moment. “Yo, I’m about to go on duty. Just wondering if the work party up at Holt Stables is still on for next week? We can knock out painting those paddock fences in no time.”
“I . . .” Rhett found himself uncharacteristically speechless. Grady had mentioned something about it, but Rhett doubted he’d get the same helpful response to the Holt Stables’ call to action now that he owned it, instead of Grady’s family. He figured he’d have to bring labor in from Dallas or something.
“We got a whole team of useful dudes ready to go. But we gotta work around schedules, so I kind of need to know,” Mick said.
“Yeah, it’s on,” Rhett said, a little surprised that the squad’s offer to help out at the stables was more than just an idle offer. He caught Jake’s eye, and his brother smiled as if to say, Yeah, this is what it’s like here.
“You be sure to let me and Charlie know the exact timing, too, Ever-Rhett,” Lila said.
“You’re planning to work out at the stables in those purple python boots?” Rhett asked. “Or do you have a pair of sparkly silver heels that’s more appropriate?”
Lila grinned. “I’m going to focus on hydration and sustenance.”
“Lila, hon, when you use those big words like that, it slays me,” Tommy said, his hand on his heart. He was the rookie of the squad.
“Tommy, hon, do you even know what they mean?”
“Well, it’s the way you say them. And I think both of them have to do with . . . using your mouth,” he said a little too dreamily.
Rhett and Jake both frowned and turned toward Tommy instinctively, but Lila put a hand on Rhett’s arm as if to say, I’ve got this.
“Jeez, that’s so sweet. You do know that you and me are never gonna happen, right?” As Tommy’s expression fell, Lila added, “That said, you’re likely to have a full audience of eligible women at the work party. Can’t imagine anybody who has some flexibility in her schedule would miss the opportunity to watch a bunch of sweaty, good-looking men use their muscles.”
Amid a smattering of laughter, the crowd in the kitchen dispersed. Jake whispered something in Charlie’s ear and she squeezed his arm and slipped out of the room. Grady left to handle a call for assistance on the community help line. Rhett was about to head out to work on his laptop but Jake and Lila looked at each other and Jake held up his hand. “Wait up, Rhett. What you said about Deck . . .” he said, “I think we need to clear the air.”
Rhett sighed.
“I get how you’re feeling. I’ve felt it, too,” Jake said. “But I’ve made peace with the fact—and it is a fact, Rhett—that Deck did the best he could as a stand-in father, and there’s nobody under the circumstances who could’ve done better. Back then and now. And as it turns out, Declan’s best is pretty awesome. We wouldn’t still have Silverlake if it weren’t for him.”
Rhett opened his mouth to protest, to claim some credit, though it made him feel small, but Lila chimed in first. “We also needed the money you loaned to keep it going. Nobody’s saying otherwise. But a ranch as special as Silverlake doesn’t keep going on cash alone. It takes hard work and heart. And it’s Declan who’s left his heart on the dance floor, not any us.”
The three of them stared at one another and Lila smiled. “It sounded better in my brain. It sounded really clever. But you know what I mean.”
Rhett nodded. He grabbed the back of his neck with his hand as he formed his next words. “There’s something in me that needs you to know that he couldn’t have done it without me. That he still can’t . . . man, I guess I’m just still so mad at him. When all of you were running away as fast as you could, I was the one who would’ve given anything to stay on the ranch with him. He made me go, Lila. He sent me away.”
“He never wanted it to be forever. Stay for Fool Fest, Rhett—and our very own Feast of Fools. Promise me that,” Lila said.
Julianna Holt’s beautiful face suddenly flashed in Rhett’s mind. “Can’t promise, but I’ll do my best. You just never know . . .”
Chapter 18
Rhett parked Scarlett and walked into the barn in his new Lucchese boots, which fit like a dream. He felt the years dropping away, felt almost like his old self again: the Rhett he’d been before he’d been sent off to school and donned camouflage for protection. Learned how to fit in with the other preppies, even though he’d never totally lost his Texas accent. He’d learned how to entertain them with it, though. And once he’d employed the right to make fun of himself before they could, they’d begun to respect him a little more. Tolerate him, anyway.
With practiced ease and grace, Jules was pitching hay from the whee
lbarrow into the horse stalls. Her hair this afternoon was more rooster tail than warrior knot, and tendrils of it fell around her face as she worked. Her movements were more dancer than farmer, even in those rubber boots. He was watching a . . . hay ballet.
Rhett shook off the strange thought and called out to her. “Hey, Jules. Got time for another pow-wow in the office? I have some ideas for this place.”
She stilled, then turned to face him, pitchfork in hand. For a moment he thought she might use it on him. But then she blinked, smiled, and said a strangely mechanical, “Of course.”
Huh. But Rhett nodded and led the way to the tack room office, where he’d kept the second chair next to the desk. He sat in it, so that she could take the main one. She seemed surprised by that.
“So what ideas do you want to discuss?” she asked, crossing her legs and bouncing her foot rapidly.
“I think we could really expand business here if we not only gave the place a face-lift, but took in more boarders. I’d like to go ahead and get an indoor riding ring built for your lessons, so that they don’t have to be canceled in bad weather, and in fact . . .” He went on until he registered that her face had turned to stone. Beautiful stone, but stone, nonetheless. “Is something bothering you?”
She gritted her teeth. “Not at all.”
“I don’t believe you. Talk to me.”
“Talk to you. Okay. I will. Rhett, these are all great ideas. But they are great ideas that I’ve been discussing with my dad for years! Trying to get him to listen to me. And nothing I said got through to him. I have plans and designs that I showed him. He looked at them as if I’d just given him a macaroni-and-glue project on construction paper. That’s nice, honey, is what he said.”
“You have plans and designs?” Rhett asked. “Show me.”
Jules heaved a deep sigh and then dug into the beat-up old file cabinet next to the desk. She pulled out a folder with neatly drawn projects inside: one for an indoor riding ring, one with new sliding stall doors, one for adding an upstairs office space above the riding ring with a window that looked down upon it. She’d priced things out, too. Done cost projections and roughly calculated the financial benefits to the projects. She’d clipped pictures of clean, modern, brightly lit, attractive stables. She’d collected some pictures of indoor riding rings, too. And tack rooms.
Rhett took his time reviewing the papers, trying to ignore that Jules was a ball of tension behind his right shoulder. What he saw was impressive. She’d already filed for permits. She’d already gotten blueprints stamped. She’d researched materials and considered different options. From the looks of it, all she really needed was money and labor. This was more than a dream. This was an achievable goal. Rhett looked up; Jules was chewing on her lower lip. Even when she was nervous she was sexy as hell. He shook off the unbusinesslike thoughts. “This is impressive. You really have thought this through.”
“Yes,” she said flatly. “Fat lot of good it did for me.”
“Why do you think your dad resisted your ideas?”
“For one thing, because I’m a girl. He listens to everything Grady says. And for another, because there wasn’t any money and he saw it as a demand for something he couldn’t provide and didn’t want to take out loans for.”
“Okay. So what if I can provide it?”
Her mouth worked for a moment. Then, with that weirdly careful, neutral expression, she said, “That’d be just great.”
Why did Rhett feel that he’d just pissed in her Cheerios? If remodeling and expansion had been her dream and he could make it happen, how was that bad?
“You’re annoyed,” he said. “Why?”
She shook her head. “No, no. I’m grateful.”
He narrowed his eyes on her face, which had that stony look again.
“Jules. What are you not saying? You don’t look as though you want to be grateful. What is the undercurrent here that I’m sensing?”
“No undercurrent—besides what we talked about the other day.”
He just kept his gaze on hers.
“Fine. What you’re sensing is that again. These are great ideas, but I wasn’t allowed to make them happen on my own terms. And now they’ll happen on your terms. And I just feel like everyone’s puppet!”
“You are no puppet,” he said quietly. “And there are no strings attached here.”
She shot him an evaluative glance.
“What?” he prompted her. “What’s going through that hard head of yours?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m a little annoyed that you, Rhett Braddock, of all people—that you get to control everything that I ever dreamed of controlling. My family property, my dad’s gratitude and respect, my brother’s gratitude and loyalty, my barn, my horses, and now my dreams.”
“This was never about control,” Rhett said.
“Maybe not for you.”
“I don’t want to control you, Jules.”
“But . . . you do.”
“I’m just trying to help all of you.”
“Why? Why aren’t you out at Silverlake Ranch, trying to help Declan?”
Rhett took the words as a punch to the gut. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. Why us? Why not pay off your own family property?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, Jules, but Declan won’t let me.”
“Why not?”
Rhett gave a short, unamused bark of laughter. “Because he doesn’t want to give up control of the place. He refuses to be a charity case.”
Jules folded her arms across her chest and nodded decisively. “Well, I don’t want to be one, either—especially not to you.”
“All right. Point taken. So what do you suggest we do about this situation, Julianna Holt? I’ve invested a good amount of money here. Am I supposed to just sign over the deed to you and walk away? I don’t think so. What do you want from me?”
“What do you want from me?”
“Hard work. Vision. Commitment. The passion you bring to this place and the horses and the kids. That’s it. I don’t need your gratitude, especially since it galls you so much to be told to have it toward me. But I do need your cooperation. And less hostility.”
She blew out an audible breath. “Fine. Fair enough.”
“And I’d really like to use your plans to create a more picturesque and viable business out here at the Holt Stables. The boys at the station who are going to be off duty next week are clearing their own schedules to come up and work. I was assuming the planning for an indoor riding ring was going to take time, so I figured I’d just put them to work on smaller prep jobs. But we can use your plans to get the riding ring started.”
“My plans. You’d use mine?” She seemed stunned.
“Why not? They’re great. And we’ve got available labor. Let’s get them going and make the upgraded version of Holt Stables official.”
Jules swallowed. “You’re going to keep the name?”
She was looking at him as if she had her heart in her throat.
“It’s a small thing to me, and a big one for you. So . . .” He shrugged. “Yeah. Holt Stables.”
Rhett was rewarded by sudden sunshine in her face.
“Oh, thank God. I was so afraid you would change it!”
He spun around to assure her just as she lurched toward him. Surprise hit them both. Off-balance, Jules’s mouth missed his cheek and Rhett’s lips brushed across hers in a streak of fire. She gripped his forearms to keep from falling against his chest, and in one swift move Rhett shoved her against the desk.
A moment of the most intense silence followed. Rhett still braced her with his arms, his body starting to close the small amount of distance that was left. It wasn’t to stop her. It wasn’t that at all.
The delicate tick tick tick of his watch only emphasized the uneven exhale
of Jules’s breath. Her gaze locked on his mouth. He’d only just barely tasted her in that last moment, and the primal heat building between them as he held her steady against the desk brought back the memory of holding her up against the wall in his bedroom in Dallas.
No second chances . . . Jules doesn’t want that from me . . . definitely not telling Grady . . . you’ll never love Jules more than Grady . . .
Rhett released Jules, indulging for one last second in the sensation of her body sliding against his arms. “Sorry, Jules, not sure what just—”
Lightning fast, she closed the distance back up and took his mouth hard in an irrefutable, scorching-hot kiss.
* * *
Everything good about that night in Dallas came flashing back into Jules’s mind. A split second of What am I doing? followed by He wants me just as much as I want him followed by a complete lack of thought at all. Just touch and warmth and the extreme hotness that was everything Rhett Braddock had always been in her dreams.
“Jules, hon, you in there?”
Rhett stepped back so quickly, Jules staggered a little as her dad rounded the corner. She reflexively put her finger up to her lips. Sssh.
Rhett held the back of his hand pressed against his mouth. And maybe she was imagining it, but did the light in his eyes dim just a little? Confused, Jules stared at him. Was he disappointed? Disappointed . . . why? Because he didn’t get another roll in the hay before heading out of town? Or because . . . Jules’s heart pounded for a moment, before she forced herself to dismiss the notion that Rhett Braddock could possibly want something more than a couple hours of a good time.
A throat cleared. Jules blinked and focused on her father, who was looking suspiciously between her and Rhett. “What’d I interrupt? Bad news about the books?” Dad shook his head without waiting for an answer. “I should’ve hired someone to help me with that. Funny, I thought that would be a stupid use of money at the time . . .”
