Love Under Two Wranglers [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  “Howdy. I’m looking for work. Who do I talk to about that?”

  “That would be me, as I’m the foreman here,” Ricoh said. “What’s your name?”

  “Oscar. Oscar Tooms. Folks call me Scar.” The man shrugged. “My momma loved all things Hollywood.”

  “I’m Ricoh Stone. What can you do, Scar, and where have you done it?”

  Scar shrugged. “I was on the rodeo circuit out west for a few years, as a stock handler. Then I worked on a few ranches stretching from California to Texas—guess I was headed here all along. I can do most everything that needs doing on a spread—I even learned how to administer meds to livestock.”

  “Well I can take your contact information, pass it on to my bosses. Not sure they’re looking to hire on, right now. But it doesn’t hurt to ask.”

  “Appreciate it,” Scar said. Ricoh pulled out his phone and took down the man’s information. He was staying at one of the motels along the state highway.

  “You know if there’re any other ranches hereabouts might be looking for help? I’ll take anything, even day work. Don’t much care for being idle.”

  “I really can’t say if there’s anything in the area or not. We’re pretty busy here, don’t get into town much to hear the latest goings-on.”

  “Town…that’d be Lusty?”

  Alan remembered the look he and Duncan had both worn after Ricoh had called them and offered them the jobs here. Lusty really was a hell of a name for a town.

  Scar didn’t appear to show any reaction to the name, one way or the other. In fact, Alan would have to say he was a difficult man to read, period.

  “That’d be it,” Ricoh said.

  “Well, maybe I’ll ask at the seed and feed, see if they know of anything available.”

  “There isn’t one of those right in town. But you might stop by the restaurant, have a cup of coffee. Sometimes waitresses know more about what’s happening around than most anyone else.”

  “Now that’s the truth. Thanks, man. Appreciate the tip.” Scar nodded to Ricoh, and then gave Alan a glance that felt a hell of a lot more probing than just a passing look.

  Alan remained silent, and with Ricoh watched as the old Chevy made its way down the driveway and then turned onto the road toward town.

  Alan shook his head, trying to dislodge the creepy feeling Scar had given him. “I wonder why he looked at me like that.”

  Ricoh snorted. “He likely thought you were the boss, and was wondering why you didn’t speak up.”

  Ricoh’s response baffled him. “Why the hell would he think that? You’re the one who spoke to him. Hell, you even told him you were the foreman.”

  Ricoh grinned. “Well, yes, amigo, but you’re white and I’m not.”

  Alan shook his head. “Hell, if that’s his attitude, amigo, we don’t need him or his kind around here.” Then he sighed. “Though that’s not my place to say, but still.”

  Ricoh slapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s haul ass. Otherwise Duncan will be bitchin’ we left him to do all the work.”

  Alan laughed, and mounted up. He cast one last look toward the road. Ricoh’s assessment went a long way toward explaining the eerie vibe he got from Oscar Tooms. He guessed living in Lusty had already spoiled him. He didn’t think there was a racist member in any of the families.

  And although Alan rarely wished ill on anyone, he sincerely hoped that no one in the vicinity would hire the man who called himself Scar.

  Chapter 16

  “The entire town?” Jacqui stopped walking with her armload of stuff and stared, slack jawed, and Holly.

  “Well, not the entire town. But most of it.” When Holly had taken this one-bedroom apartment, it had come furnished, complete with a sofa bed in the living room. There’d even been sheets, blankets, and pillows in the linen closet for it.

  One thing she could say about the people of Lusty, they were always thinking ahead.

  While she helped Jacqui unload her car, Holly told her what she knew of the history of Lusty, Texas—which was really quite a lot.

  Nancy’s mother, Anna Jessop, the curator of the Lusty Historical Society Museum, had spent several hours telling Holly the story of a young Chicago woman married off, by her father, to a man whose soul was as black as sin. She’d also shared the story of the daughter of a Richmond demimonde who’d escaped the wrath of a crooked banker and come to Texas on a quest—and ended up falling for a couple of lawmen.

  The historian in her—and what librarian wasn’t part historian?—had salivated over the tale, and over the journals Anna had told her about. One each written by Sarah Benedict, Amanda Jessop-Kendall, Joshua Benedict and Warren Jessop, they were four books she very, very much wanted to read.

  Never going to happen. The tradition was that the women of the family got the women’s journals and the men got the men’s to read.

  “So…um…those two hot cowboys I saw you smoochin’ this afternoon. You’re not just trying to fit in with the residents of Lusty, right?”

  Holly felt her eyes widen, and she blinked. Then she laughed. The idea that her niece would ever think she would do something like take on two men to try to fit in somewhere was just silly.

  “I didn’t think so,” Jacqui said. “Which leads me to the obvious conclusion, that being the filling in a man sandwich is something you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

  Holly opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Well hell. She’s right.

  “I kind of took note of the books in your bedroom back home. At first I was shocked and then I was tickled, and curious. I read a few of those novels. Mmhmm, I sure did. And I completely understand the appeal.”

  “Oh. My. God.” Holly covered her face with her hands. She could hardly dispute her niece’s words. They were the truth, a truth she hadn’t even been able to admit to herself.

  Until now.

  Did admitting that she had secretly longed for a ménage change things for her, really? Those two hot cowboys came to you, Holly, wanting the same thing, with you.

  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Holly.”

  “You didn’t. I was just marveling at the way I sort of hid my head in the sand about that, all these years.”

  “Of course you’d shy away from a truth like that. You’re not the bold and sassy type. If Becky had read those books and gotten turned on, she’d have done whatever it took to get herself into a man sandwich, and she wouldn’t necessarily care who the men were.”

  Holly frowned. She supposed that was true enough. Her younger sister didn’t know the meaning of the word “self-discipline.” If she wanted something, she went after it—no holds barred and God help anyone who got in her way.

  Holly knew her mother was hoping that her youngest daughter would follow in her footsteps, and land a wealthy scion from a respected family to marry. That she would then go on to join some of the more prestigious charities, and fill her life with good works and entertaining. That was heaven as far as Wanda June Bethune was concerned, and there was nothing wrong with that.

  But Holly couldn’t help but think her mother was headed for disappointment pinning all her hopes that way on her youngest daughter.

  Holly sighed. They’d stowed Jacqui’s things as best they could in the space available. She sat down on the sofa and put her socked feet up on the coffee table. “I really don’t want to think about Becky any more tonight.” Thinking about her sister just made her sad.

  “Neither do I.” Jacqui sat down on the other end of the sofa. “So…tell me about those smokin’ hot cowboys. Alan and Duncan?” Then a look crossed her face. “Oh, shit! Were you supposed to see them tonight?”

  Holly waved her hand. It damn near broke her heart to know that it likely would be days before she could see those two wranglers again in private. But she knew what her priorities were. “You’re family, and family comes first.”

  “Oh no you don’t, Holly Rose Bethune! I’m not a child who needs to be entertained. I really apprecia
te your sticking with me tonight, helping me settle in. But you do not need to make it a habit.”

  Holly’s desire to be with Alan and Duncan began to war with her sense of duty. Then she looked—really looked at Jacqui.

  Her niece was right. She wasn’t a child, she was a woman, fully grown. She was old enough to be on her own. Point of fact, she’d arrived uninvited, and while Holly was happy she was there, there really was no need to sacrifice her personal time with her men.

  “We probably will get together tomorrow night.” She felt her face blush but couldn’t help it. “And I will not be home until morning.”

  “If it were me, I’d take a change of clothes and go straight to work the next day. That would allow time for some water sports. Nothing starts a day off right like a good round of water sports.”

  Holly felt her eyebrows rise. Then she wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I want to know how you know that.”

  Jacqui grinned. “Like I said, Aunt Holly, I’m not a child anymore.”

  No, she sure wasn’t. And Holly wondered, fleetingly, if the reason Jacqui had followed her had as much to do with destiny as it did opportunity.

  “So…I’m going to assume you haven’t told the grandparents about your two new beaus yet?” Jacqui asked.

  Holly laughed. “No, not yet.” She shrugged. “We’re really just starting out in this relationship. If things progress, I will tell them.”

  “And they’ll act all happy for you, and then in private bemoan their guilt about the Unfortunate Incident.”

  “Oh, my goodness, they will, too.” Holly figured that when the time came to introduce Alan and Duncan to her parents, she would need to take them aside and do her best to convince them of their blamelessness.

  And she wondered if it wouldn’t be a task calling for some liquid fortification, first. For her parents, that was, not for herself.

  * * * *

  Mary Ellen didn’t mind spending time in this low-class motel or eating cheap burgers or even riding around in a beat-up old pickup truck—as long as the bottom line was sweet revenge.

  In her mind, there were only two people responsible for the horrible turn her life had taken. Those two wranglers she’d hired on a couple of months before the cops had descended on her had been snitches. They’d traded their honor for filthy lucre. They’d ratted her out, and because they had, she’d lost nearly everything and had been locked up for five long, miserable years.

  Mary Ellen burned to hurt them right back. She wanted to get them so good they would be on their knees, begging her forgiveness.

  She wanted, by damn, to make them pay and pay dearly.

  The sound of the key in the lock of the motel room door made her jerk. She’d turned off the television, and had been getting antsy, waiting.

  The door opened and Oscar came in, a takeout pizza box in one hand and a six-pack of brew in the other.

  “Sorry it took so long, doll. I had to be careful, make sure I wasn’t followed.”

  Mary Ellen bit back the bitchy words that hung so close to the surface. “I’m glad you’re being careful, baby.” She shivered. “I’d die if anything happened to you.”

  “I know. I know you care about me. You coulda called the cops down on my head when they arrested you, but you didn’t. You never gave me up to them.”

  “I would never betray you.”

  “You’re a good girl.” Oscar set the pizza and beer down, and then cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry as hell you have to endure this place. As soon as we do what we came to do, we’ll go someplace more to your style. Where would you like to go? Just name it, doll.”

  “I don’t care as long as you take me with you. I just want to be with you.”

  Oscar scowled. “They damaged you, those two bastards. A beautiful doll like you wasn’t made to be shut in behind bars.”

  It wasn’t hard to let a lone tear drop fall. Oscar wouldn’t welcome a flood of them, but a single, brave, tear? That would bring him to his knees, emotionally.

  Mary Ellen had studied the man the way a concert cellist studied her instrument. And she played him expertly.

  She saw the barely banked rage as he used his thumb to wipe that single tear. On the outside she remained as she was, her brave smile fighting to emerge.

  Inside she performed a couple of fist-pumps into the air.

  Mary Ellen wrapped her hand around his wrist, and nuzzled his hand with her cheek. “It’s all right, baby. I’m out. I’m here, with you, and that’s all that really matters.”

  “That and getting those two bastards back?”

  “Yes. We have to stop them before they do even more damage.”

  Oscar grunted. Then he turned to the small round table, flipped the lid on the pizza box, and said, “Eat, doll.”

  Mary Ellen shuddered inwardly at the pizza, yet reached for a slice. She really couldn’t afford not to eat. And besides, it was a hell of a lot better than what she’d been eating in prison—and at her daddy’s.

  She’d never been much of a cook, but Daddy’s food had never been much to shout about, either. The freezer held game and fish he’d caught himself, and veggies a couple of the neighbor women had put down for him. He’d grumbled that it had cost him nearly half his yield for their services. Ungrateful bastard. The neighbors should have told him to go fuck himself. Then he could have kept his whole harvest, and watch it rot in the field.

  Mary Ellen brought her attention back to the moment. Oscar had popped the top of a can of beer for her. She took up a slice of pizza and took a bite. The pizza was just warm, but the beer was nearly icy cold, so she guessed all-in-all, that wasn’t too bad.

  “I thought when you finish here we could go back to that place I rented in Louisville. Lay low for a week or so, and then head wherever you have in mind, baby.”

  “Good. That’s good.” He looked at her, and Mary Ellen did her best to stay relaxed, and appear focused on her meal.

  Oscar had changed over the last five years. Mary Ellen couldn’t read him as well as she used to. Maybe it’ll just take time for us to connect again.

  They’d hooked up the day before, meeting up in Dallas. She’d ridden with him here, and had bravely offered to pay half the room—she’d insisted. He’d taken pity on her and told her to keep her money. It was all to the good if he believed she had limited means. No way in hell she was going to tell him about her stash. He’d handed her a handful of cash to pay for the room but had asked her to check them in. She understood, because she’d led him to believe he really was known and wanted.

  The lure of scoring that couple of hundred was too much to resist. She’d pocketed his money and used her sole remaining credit card from before she’d gone to jail. It was in her late husband’s name. She’d maintained the account, and for whatever reason, the company had kept renewing the card without any red tape.

  This was only the second time she’d used it since she’d gotten out of jail.

  Mary Ellen took another bite of pizza and washed it down with another long sip of beer. “So…how did your recon mission go?”

  Oscar was chomping on his pizza. He looked at her and nodded. “I found them.”

  She wanted to grab him by his shirt front and scream in his face. Why hadn’t he said so first thing? It’s getting harder and harder to remember my role.

  “Good! I never doubted you, baby. Now what?”

  “It’s a Podunk little town, that’s for sure, but by asking around I was able to discover that they’re working at a ranch just north of it. I can tell you one thing—they don’t have a clue that it was me, even though I gave them my name. Makes me wonder about what you said—that they knew who I was, and all.”

  Oh, shit. It never occurred to her the stupid son of a bitch would use his real name. Her brain went straight to crisis management mode. “I’m only telling you what was told to me, baby. That blond one—he got right in my face when I was behind bars. When…when I wouldn’t cop a plea and give you up. He was in tight with t
he DA, I think, because he came to the jail before the trial.” She put her beer down, and shuddered, as if recalling a scary incident. Then she looked up and met Oscar’s gaze. “He said that my not cooperating wouldn’t save you, not in the long term. That they’d found out who you were and they’d find you, come hell or high water.” She held out her hands, a supplicant, and made her facial expression match. “Was he lying to me? Maybe. But I couldn’t take that chance. I couldn’t not contact you, baby. Because maybe he was lyin’ to me, trying to get me to give you up. But maybe he wasn’t.”

  I should have gone to Hollywood. Those Oscar-winning actresses have nothing on me. The irony of that thought nearly made her laugh out loud.

  Slowly Oscar nodded his head. “That makes sense. Likely, he was trying to shake you up to make you give them my name.” He took another bit of his pizza and chewed slowly. He looked at her and the coldness in his eyes just then made her shiver. Then he nodded again. “Don’t you worry about it, doll. I know you never ratted me out—and I know without a doubt, you never will.”

  “No, I would never, ever do that. I could have gotten off and put into that witness protection program. But I couldn’t betray you. So I went to jail instead.”

  “Yes, you went to jail. That’s just one thing I’m going to punish those two wranglers for. A sweet little thing like you never should have been put behind bars.” Oscar nodded to her food. “Eat up, doll. Have your beer. I want to fuck you tonight, and get a good sleep. Then we’ll come up with a plan on how we can pay back those two bastards.”

  Mary Ellen gave Oscar the biggest, sappiest smile she could muster, and then she did exactly what he said—as if she was a simpleton just waiting for the next order from the big, macho, man.

  And while he fucked her, she’d be coming up with a way she could turn the tables one last time, and see if she couldn’t get his ass busted by the cops.

  Chapter 17