Love Under Two Montanans [The Lusty, Texas Collection]

by Cara Covington

  “Yes! I swear I’m so hungry I could eat a cow.” The woman sighed. “I nearly ordered the twelve-ounce sirloin, but I try to limit myself to one steak a week.” She met Jenny’s gaze and grinned.

  Jenny couldn’t help but grin right back at her. “Our chef, Patrick, grills a wonderful sirloin. If you’re in the area for a while, you could always come back when it’s your steak day.”

  “Whether or not I’m still around will depend on how successful I am in my job hunt.”

  Jenny tilted her head to the side. “What kind of work are you looking for?” She knew Angela was going to take on a couple more part-time waitstaff. She’d hired one two weeks ago, and that little princess hadn’t lasted even a whole week.

  “I’ve done a lot of this.” She used her hand to indicate the dining room. “I’ve also clerked in a couple of clothing boutiques, and I worked for six months in real estate.” She wrinkled her nose. “I think I hired on to the wrong company there because I didn’t care for the lying we were encouraged to do. I can’t believe all real estate companies are like that, but I haven’t had the heart to try again.”

  Jenny thought this woman had a good, outgoing personality for waitressing. “I’m Jenny Collins.” She extended her hand, and the woman immediately accepted.

  “Nancy Drew. Please, no jokes. I think I’ve heard them all.”

  Jenny laughed. “Okay, no jokes, I promise. Enjoy your lunch, Nancy. I’ll mention to Laci, our manager here, that you’re looking for work and have experience in the service industry.”

  Nancy’s eyes widened. “You will? That would be great. Thanks!

  “You’re welcome.”

  Jenny headed back toward the kitchen. Laci was there, chatting with Patrick. She turned and nodded to Jenny.

  “Thanks for that. I was waylaid by a guest asking about the area.”

  “Happy to help. Your guest’s name is Nancy Drew, and she’s looking for work. Says she has experience as wait staff.”

  Laci smiled. “Hmm. Think I’ll talk to her, see if she’d be interested. Speaking to her when she came in, there was just something about her. I liked her almost immediately.”

  “Me, too.” Jenny said. “And she doesn’t look like a princess, either.”

  Laci nodded. “That’s not to be discounted. Especially with the recent memory of Amber Kaye.”

  “Sounded like a stripper name.” Patrick’s comment made both Jenny and Laci burst out laughing.

  “Just sayin’. Amber is one of the top stripper names.” Patrick treated them to a small grin, shrugged, and returned to his cooking.

  She figured if even the steady and always affable Patrick could say that about their last part-time hire, it was a good thing she’d cut and run when she had.

  Jenny placed her now ready orders onto a tray and headed out to deliver them. I wonder if Jenny is a stripper name. I’ll have to look that up when I get home. Of course, that just put her thoughts right back on her men. She sighed. Hopefully the day wouldn’t seem too long. And they had said they’d come by for supper. It would be nice to work the last couple of hours with her men in house and close by.

  * * * *

  “I hear you’re looking for a bimbo.”

  Doug Vance cringed as the sound of that voice cut along his nerve endings, spiking an equal measure of fear and distaste in his heart. At least it’s not that other fucker, Tyro. Tyro would be worse, because his entourage included a couple of bruisers with baseball bats. Vance’s nerves were fraying, fast. I’ve got to get the fuck out of this city.

  It took all his will to keep those emotions off his face. The man who’d spoken from behind him slowly moved into view and sat down across from him at the restaurant table.

  “Mr. Carp, what an unexpected…pleasure.” And a definite disappointment if an establishment as upscale as The Cache allows the likes of this thug inside its doors. Who was he kidding? The whole fucking world was being taken over by thugs. Nowhere was safe anymore.

  Brody Carp smirked. He looked at someone behind Vance—probably one of his ever-present henchmen—and nodded just slightly.

  Only knowing the man wouldn’t have him attacked in public allowed Vance to appear calm. He felt anything but. There was no reason for the man to be in his face now. They had a deal, damn it. And you’re just an idiot if you believe in honor among thugs.

  He pushed aside his inner voice and pretended he hadn’t heard Carp’s opening line. “To what do I owe the honor of your company?” It was clear to Vance that Carp didn’t recognize sarcasm when he heard it.

  Brody Carp tilted his head to the side. “I’m a curious man, Mr. Vance.”

  “Indeed?” Vance could remain calm in the criminal’s presence. What he couldn’t do, could never do, was treat the man as if he was just another business associate, as if he was Vance’s equal. I was born into the Featherstone family. I can trace my lineage back to the first American settlers to arrive in Texas. I’m someone, by God.

  “Indeed.”

  The waiter came to the table, set Vance’s meal before him, and then turned an inquiring glance to Carp. Vance took a moment to rein in his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to let his mind wander or his temper grow. He need to find some discipline.

  “I’ll just have coffee,” Carp said. “I won’t be here long.”

  The waiter nodded and departed, presumably to get the man his caffeine. I hope the pot’s a couple of hours old and tastes burnt. It was all Vance could do not to chuckle.

  “Here’s what I’m wondering about. I happen to know your aunt’s last will and testament was read last week and that you’re likely awaiting a check from the lawyer. I expected you to do any number of things on the heels of that happy day. And yet what I discovered is you’re looking for a young woman. An heiress, I’ve been told. And I have to ask myself, ‘did ol’ Dougie get a windfall from his late relative, or not?’”

  How did Carp find out about that? Vance mentally sighed. That flat rate P.I. I hired likely sold the information to this bottom-feeding piece of shit.

  Brody Carp might look like a successful businessman. He wore Armani, head to toe, and had his hair styled, not cut like a real man. But underneath the veneer, at the center of the man, was nothing more than a common criminal. A thug. All the world’s a thug. Yes, it was. What chance did a well-bred man like Vance have anymore?

  “Since it’s not yet time for me to repay the amount we agreed upon, Mr. Carp, I fail to see how anything I do is of any concern of yours at all. You think I’m looking for an heiress? That’s absurd of course, but thinking about it just now, I understand how you’d come to such a conclusion.” He sat back and let the man see the contempt he felt. “Sometimes a bottom-feeding piece of scum—the investigator I hired comes to mind and not present company, of course—needs the incentive of the possibility of a bonus payout in order to get the job done.” Vance chuckled. “I had no idea the bastard was one of your minions. That’s very unfortunate.” Holding Carp’s gaze, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

  “Mr. Kendrin, Douglas Vance here. Do you have any progress to report?” Vance listened as the man gave him a long, rambling excuse as to why he allegedly had nothing to report. He definitely believed the man had discovered something, and that information had been sold to Carp. Mad as hell, Vance held on to his temper. “I see. Well, then, since you’ve nothing to report, and have made no progress, you’re fired. Effective immediately. The cash you’ve already been advanced is the only money you’ll get out of me.” He didn’t bother with a polite good-bye. He simply ended the call, set his phone down, and returned his attention to his lunch.

  He had no appetite and the food tasted like sawdust, but he kept eating. As he chewed, he looked Brody Carp in the eyes, determined not to blink. He likely would have caved, he would have been the one to look away first, but a fine and fiery rage now burned within him. This rage was the most empowering force Doulas Vance had ever felt. First that decrepit old bitch had pulled a fast one o
ver on him by changing her will, and now this thug was trying to do the same by insinuating himself into Vance’s business. He was damned fed up with others trying to cheat him out of what was his due.

  Carp flicked a glance at whoever was behind Vance. When the criminal’s gaze was on him again, Vance gave him the smallest of nods and returned his attention to his food.

  The waiter delivered a cup of coffee and set it before Carp. The man ignored it and got to his feet. “I guess I’ll see you at the end of the month, then. Enjoy your lunch.”

  Vance counted off three minutes. He continued to eat and to sip his water. He paused and sat back. If Brody Carp knew for certain that Vance wasn’t going to be getting the size of inheritance he’d expected, the thug would have let him know just that. But he hadn’t, so that was a point in his favor.

  Brody Carp had a long reach into the city’s crime-riddled underbelly but not much influence when it came to the upper echelons of power, Vance would bet. So, he wouldn’t necessarily know the terms of Amanda Featherstone’s will. Of course, that would change as soon as probate was complete. Once a will was probated, it generally became available to the public.

  Doug Vance had maybe a couple of days before Amanda’s final wishes became public knowledge. Since he would have enough cash to pay Carp, he wondered what the bastard’s game could possibly be.

  In the meantime, he’d fired the only man he could afford to hire to find Amanda Featherstone’s granddaughter. Now, he’d have to do the job himself. The rage returned, this time with a will of its own. The rage brought a calm and a clarity of thought Vance hadn’t felt in years. And, ah, yes, he knew just where to start on his search for dear Cousin Mandy’s little bastard baby.

  A little night-time breaking and entering at that P.I.’s office—a grimy office in a not very prosperous part of town—was definitely going to be step number one.

  * * * *

  Brody Carp walked from The Cache to the opened back door of his limo, pausing only long enough to slip the doorman a folded twenty, a courtesy for allowing him in.

  Eddie, Brody’s right-hand man, got into the back seat from the other side. Fred, his driver, pulled into traffic. Both men in the back seat remained silent, which was only to be expected. Brody liked a few moments to think, and what he was thinking right at the moment wasn’t anything good—for Vance.

  “Impressions?” he asked.

  “Dougie was so scared he nearly pissed his pants. I don’t think he’s quite sane, boss. Also, he lied.”

  “That’s what I thought, too. He lied.” Brody could have almost recited Vance’s thoughts back there during their impromptu meeting. He was thinking that it was none of Brody’s business, the matter of the inheritance from his great-aunt. He was thinking they had a deal and payment day hadn’t yet arrived.

  In Vance’s rarified world, Brody supposed all those things were true.

  But they all weren’t living in Vance’s rarefied world. They were living in Brody’s world. A world where Brody decided what would be.

  “Does that bozo actually think that he just has to pay you what he owes and that’s the end of things?”

  “Apparently.” Brody turned to look at Eddie. They both smiled.

  “The man’s a fool,” Eddie said.

  “A delusional fool and, as you noted, not completely sane,” Brody said. Their business would be done when Brody said it was done. And if there was a sizeable inheritance to be had, Brody could see no reason whatsoever why the recipient of those mega dollars shouldn’t be him.

  But first, he needed to know what was what. Fortunately, he had a means of doing just that. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He dialed a number from memory. His call was answered on the third ring.

  Brody heard the melodious voice and smiled. “Hey, Brenda, it’s me. I need a favor, babe.” He listened then chuckled. “It has been a long time. It just so happens I could use some fun. Tonight?” He nodded his head. Then looked over at Eddie. “No, I’m pretty sure Eddie would be up for that, too.”

  Beside him, Eddie grinned like a hyena.

  “I’ll send the car for you. In the meantime, I have a question. I’m really hoping you’ll have an answer.”

  He told the woman on the other end of the call what he needed. When she told him that she could get him his answer if he’d hold for a moment, he was impressed.

  The line was silent for barely two minutes. Brenda came back on the line, talking for more than two minutes, and gave him his answer. He didn’t bother to take notes, of course. He had total recall, one of the many gifts he’d been born with.

  “Thank you, baby. We’ll see you tonight.”

  He ended the call and looked at Eddie.

  “That gleam in your eye tells me you’re hot on the trail, boss.”

  “Yes, I am.” Brody made one more call, this time to a man who’d received a call not that long ago.

  “Hey, Bobby, it’s Brody. You mentioned that some other PI was on the trail of the heiress Vance was chasing. Did you get a name?” He listened for a moment then nodded. “All right, then. No, don’t contact Vance, and if he calls you again and offers to rehire you, tell him to go to hell.”

  Brody tucked his phone away. “Apparently, Vance was expecting a very big payday, thanks to his great-aunt’s death. But the woman changed her will in the last couple of months before she died. Vance only got a half mil, and the bulk of the estate—conservatively estimated to be between five and eight mil—has been left to some granddaughter no one knew existed.”

  “Where’s this granddaughter?”

  “Now there’s a question. Apparently, the lawyer has hired his own PI to look into that very thing. Some broad.”

  “Five to eight million—that could be what you’re waiting for, couldn’t it?”

  Brody didn’t have to ask Eddie what he meant. He was getting too old to run all these scams. He’d been thinking, lately, that all he really needed was one good pay day. Just one. Then he could take himself off somewhere that had never heard of Brody Carp. Hell, with that kind of money, he could buy the two of them a couple of new identities—and a nice estate in the tropics.

  “What we’ve been waiting for. Yeah, that could be it. Vance is out of funds. I can’t see him looking for this heiress on his own. It’s not in his skillset. The lawyer has an investigator on the case, but according to Bobby, she’s been on the case since before the old woman croaked.”

  “We can find her. You and me, we can find that heiress.”

  “I do believe we could, if we really applied ourselves.” Brody nodded. “We’ll have ourselves a nice evening with Brenda. Then tomorrow, we’ll handpick a couple of guys for our team and go after this Marissa Jayne Featherstone.”

  “No one can make plans the way you do, boss. No one.”

  Brody knew it. That was the secret to his longevity in a business that chewed up most men after a decade.

  Chapter Twelve

  Parker considered himself a man of integrity, and he took pride in the knowledge that he always worked hard. He generally enjoyed summer, mostly because it wasn’t winter. Texas in summer was a heck of a lot hotter than Montana. What continued to surprise him, though, was the amount of humidity.

  For some reason, he’d always pictured Texas as hot, dry, and dusty. Hot with breath-stealing humidity was going to take some getting used to. Still, he couldn’t even consider that as an entry on the “con” side of his mental “pros and cons” list for setting down roots right here in Lusty.

  He took a moment on the back of Rio to drink from his canteen and let his gaze wander the view before him. It had only been a few weeks, but he was settling into the rhythm of the work and the rhythm of the life here.

  Texas had much to recommend it, even above and beyond that it was the home of the woman he’d fallen in love with.

  A sound drew Parker’s attention to his left. He watched as Jackson approached on horseback.

  “I came to give you a hand checking the
fence line. Not that you need the help, but we’d like to get everyone together around two for a quick planning meeting back at Chase’s place.”

  “Always appreciate the company, cousin.”

  “I was also going to nag you about keeping hydrated.” Jackson grinned. “But I see I don’t have to.”

  “I’m drinking my water, Ma, honest.” Parker took another small sip to prove it. A huge entry on the plus side of my list is the working atmosphere here. The difference between family dynamics here and back in Montana was like the difference between night and day.

  “Smartass.”

  The two men laughed then rode east and picked up the fence in this sector of the combined ranch—the area that left Cord and Jackson’s property and headed toward the Benedict North Ranch.

  Dale had headed out in the other direction that morning, working on the line between Jackson’s place and heading over and ending at the far reaches of Jesse and Barry’s land. Probably Cord was riding with his brother.

  “So, things going okay?” Jackson looked up from where he was holding the piece of fence wire tight while Parker used a hammer on the fence nail to anchor it in place. With only the odd bit of repair here and there, the old-fashioned way worked best. If they were stringing new fence, they’d be using nail guns and working in a team of three.

  Parker whacked the u-shaped nail one last time then met his cousin’s gaze. “Things are great. Seriously. We’re all three grateful to find ourselves sharing a house.”

  “Good. We were pretty certain that Jenny would be fine with the change. Ari claims Jenny can sometimes overthink things, which tends to leave her in limbo. She thought moving you in with her would be just the nudge she needed.”

  “Yeah, she does overthink things. But make no mistake. If she hadn’t wanted this, if she hadn’t wanted to be with us, she would have dug in her heels and said no, and not even Grandma Kate could have changed her mind. Our woman is no push-over. Plus, you can’t bullshit her, period.” He straightened up and leaned against the fence post. He folded his arms over his chest. “For an example, she’s already figured out that it was the news of a second party looking for her—not the first one that we learned about from her parents—that’s got all y’all worried.”