Bonded

by Laura Wright

  That he wasn’t Everett Cavanaugh?

  He cursed softly and pushed his chair back.

  “Where’re you going?” Jeremy asked him.

  “After her,” he answered simply.

  “Don’t think she wants you to, and I believe maybe I need to punch your lights out.”

  Steven shook his head. “No, you don’t.”

  “You did know about this, didn’t you?” Jeremy accused.

  The deputy just shrugged.

  As Ben and Susie Shiver turned on Steven and started questioning him about what he knew and when he’d known it, Blue left the room. He went back the way he’d come in. He’d heard the front door close, so he knew she was outside. It was a chilly night, autumn coming on fast now. When he spotted her walking down the driveway at a brisk pace without a coat on, he felt his gut constrict. His fault. He jogged toward her, easing up only when he caught up to her.

  “Hey, there,” he said, falling into pace beside her. “Slow down?”

  “You.” She whirled on him and stuck her finger in his face. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. You don’t get to tell me anything!”

  “All right. Fair enough.” He took off his coat and put it around her. She, in turn, ripped it right off and shoved it at him. “I already have one of these, remember?”

  Did he remember? Shit, he remembered everything. “You’re pissed. I see that.”

  She sneered at him. “You don’t see anything. You’re blind.”

  “Maybe,” he acquiesced.

  “And heavy-handed.”

  “Oh, probably.”

  She glared at him. “What the hell were you thinking? Coming here, uninvited, and telling my parents we’re getting married? Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  He stilled, frowned. Lost his mind? Yes, he had. A few months ago.

  “No, really, Blue,” she continued when he didn’t answer. “I want to know your thought process on this.”

  He exhaled, scrubbed a hand over his jaw and just let it rip. “You said you were telling your parents tonight, and I . . . shit, I wanted to come and support you.”

  “Then why didn’t you?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you just have my back instead of blindsiding me?” She stared at him, all strawberry blond curls and fierce eyes, pink cheeked and windswept, and so goddamned beautiful it nearly took his breath away.

  Oh Christ, what the hell was happening to him?

  “Your parents were doing all the talking,” he explained. “Demanding answers. I said what I thought would defuse the situation.”

  She looked away for a moment. “Jesus in heaven.”

  “It wasn’t planned, Emily—”

  “’Course not.”

  “But I stand by it.”

  She turned back and gave him an indignant snort. “Oh, how valiant of you, Blue.”

  Her sarcasm was like a blade running up his spine. “Come on, Em. I was just trying to help.”

  Her finger came up again. “Don’t you call me that. You aren’t my family, my boyfriend, or my husband. Hell, I don’t know what you are.” She shook her head. “You need to go.”

  His jaw tightened. “Fine. And what are you going to be doing?”

  “After I take a second to calm down I’ll have to go back inside. Tell them the truth.”

  That was going to go over well. “I should go back in there with you. This is all my fault—”

  “No. I can handle it. All of it. In fact, I’m beginning to think that’s how this needs to go down.”

  The icy wind that had blown around him only seconds ago was inside of him now. “What does that mean?”

  She looked away, at the house, for a moment, then shook her head. “Everyone is trying to decide what’s best for me. Except me.” She turned back and raised a brow at him. “That changes. Now. I’m going back in,” she stated flatly. “And you’re going home.”

  Goddammit, he’d really fucked up. This wasn’t what he’d come here for, to drive a wedge between them. If anything, he wanted to know her better, get closer to her. “Emily, wait, please—”

  But she was already gone, walking away, back up to the house.

  He blew out a breath. “Come on. We need to talk about this,” he called after her.

  “Go home, Blue,” she called back.

  Home. The word felt foreign to his ears. Where was that exactly? Home? Used to be the Triple C. But he wasn’t exactly sure now. He pulled on his jacket, fisted his keys, and started for his truck. A home was where you felt like you belonged. There was family there. Love. And trust.

  He wasn’t sure he had any of that anymore, but, Christ Almighty, there was something inside him tonight that’d hoped he might just find it here.

  Thirteen

  “Be right back with that salad, Miss O’Shay,” Emily told the River Black middle school teacher, who was wearing her usual steely gray pantsuit and slicked-back bun. She looked like a drill sergeant.

  “Extra ranch, okay, honey?” the woman called, reminding.

  As if Emily needed a reminder. Miss O’Shay was a regular. And so was her order of extra ranch. But she just smiled and tossed a friendly “You got it” over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen.

  It was barely eleven a.m., but in River Black, Texas, that was lunchtime. Folks were up by four and on their horses come five.

  In the kitchen, she ripped off her ticket and handed it to Dutch.

  “This for Mandy O’Shay?” the cute twenty-five-year-old tattooed cook asked her.

  “What gave it away?” she asked with a grin. “The extra ranch?”

  He snorted. “Thinly sliced eggs. I swear she measures.”

  Emily laughed and filled a glass with iced tea.

  “You just get here?” Rae asked, strolling into the kitchen and ripping off a ticket. “Here you go, Dutch. Extra crispy on those fries.” She turned and inspected Emily. “You all right, baby girl?”

  “Perfect,” she lied easily. “Why?”

  “You look tired.”

  Now why would that be? Not much sleep perhaps? “Rae, I swear, you’re this close to giving me a complex.”

  The woman laughed. “Not to worry, hon. You’re gorgeous. Nothing can take that away from ya. Just worried you’re not sleeping.” Her lips formed a wicked grin. “Unless it’s that man you’re not telling me about.”

  “No man,” she lied again. Except maybe the one who’d blurted out at my dinner table last night that we were getting married. Or the older man—her father—who’d tried to get her to talk to him. Or the two younger men—her annoying little brothers—who had insisted on taking her to work today.

  “If I didn’t expect a rush in about an hour, I’d tell you to go home and take a nap.” The woman shrugged. “But it’s going to be a busy day. I can feel it.”

  Rae could always feel it. It was weird. “I’m really okay,” Emily insisted. “And I need the money.” To her right, a salad with extra ranch and thinly sliced eggs was placed on the pass. “Thanks, Dutch.”

  “Tell her I measured them myself,” he called to her back as she headed out the double doors and out onto the floor.

  Laughing to herself, she made her way to Miss O’Shay’s table. Once there, she gently placed the salad in front of the woman and stepped back. “Dutch sends this along with his compliments.”

  Miss O’Shay’s sharp eyes lifted to meet Emily’s. “The eggs?” she inquired slowly.

  “He measured them.”

  Those eyes narrowed. “We’ll see about that.”

  Same old, same old. Gotta love the River Black folks. “Okeydoke.” Emily grinned. “You enjoy, Miss O.” She turned around to the two-top behind her and greeted the waiting customer. “Afternoon. What can I . . . ?”

  “Emily Shiver?” came the man’s husky baritone.

  Whoa. Could’ve knocked her over with a feather. She’d seen him, both back in the day and on the covers of magazines now. But she didn’t know him. James Cavanaugh was one striking guy. L
ots of light brown hair, prominent cheekbones, and eyes the color of the ocean. Eyes that sort of sparkled with curiosity as they looked at her.

  “I was told you wanted to talk to me,” he said.

  “Oh. Right. I did. I do,” she stumbled. “But I thought it could be a phone call . . . You didn’t have to—”

  “Blue made it sound like it was pretty urgent.” He smiled. The man was totally movie-star handsome. “Actually, he made it sound both urgent and like he didn’t want me anywhere near you.”

  Her insides warmed traitorously. She was still angry with Blue. Had spent an hour explaining the marriage mistake to her parents, while her brothers listened, enraptured, grins blazing. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be,” he said good-naturedly. “It’s nice to see him interested in . . . you.”

  She gave him a tight smile. Right. Interested in the baby, more like. “Can I get you something to eat? Drink?”

  “Coke and fries?”

  “Coming right up.”

  “Hey.” He stopped her before she could pass the table. “But first can you tell me what you need from me?”

  Emily did a quick sweep of the Bull’s Eye—well, her section anyway. She had three tables going, one of them being James Cavanaugh’s two-top. Everyone was occupied, either talking or eating. Even Miss O’Shay was digging into her salad, clearly content with the width of her egg slices.

  Now was as good a time as any, she supposed. She chewed the inside of her cheek a second before speaking. “See the thing is . . . well, I’d heard that you might be interested in the small property on Main.”

  He looked surprised that real estate was what was on her mind. “Sixteen and a half?”

  Her heart thrummed in her chest. “That’s the one.”

  “I am interested,” he admitted. “How’d you know about that?”

  “My agent, Aubrey Perdue, told me,” she explained, feeling super-awkward. “I’m moving out of my parents’ house. Looking for a new place to live. I like that space.” She sounded like a moron.

  “Oh. I see. Well, it’s actually an office space for me. I’m spending more and more time in River Black, and I thought I needed to have somewhere to do business out of. That property had been vacant for a while, and, well, it suits my purpose.”

  “Oh,” she exclaimed softly. “So you’re not in love with it or anything?”

  “In love?” His brows knit together.

  “As in, the space isn’t your heart’s desire. You’re not emotionally connected to it.” She shook her head. “I’m sure I sound insane.”

  “Not insane, just confusing.”

  She heaved a sigh and did something she’d never done before. She pulled back the chair opposite James and sat down at a customer’s table. “Look, here’s the thing. I’ve been in love with that property for a long time, Mr. Cavanaugh—”

  “James,” he corrected.

  “James . . . and when I heard you were interested in it too, I wanted to speak to you . . . see if maybe I could talk you out of it. You know, if you weren’t head over heels for the space or anything.” She shrugged. “Maybe I could even help you find something else.”

  His eyes clouded over. “I’m real sorry, Miss Shiver—”

  “Emily,” she corrected.

  “Emily. I signed the paperwork yesterday. And so did the owner. Money’s already been transferred.”

  Her stomach dropped. “Oh.”

  Sensing her heavy disappointment, he asked, “Did you make an offer . . . or . . . ? I mean, I wouldn’t have—”

  “No. No.” She stood up, feeling embarrassed. She didn’t want to tell him about her lack of funds. “It’s fine. Really. Congratulations.” She forced a smile. “Thanks for coming here. You didn’t have to, and I appreciate it. I’m going to get you that Coke and fries now—on the house. And again, congratulations.” She turned to go.

  “Hey, Emily?” he called out.

  She stopped, turned back. “Yeah?”

  “I might be able to offer you a compromise of sorts. If you’re interested.” He gave her a small smile. He had very gentle eyes. They were the eyes of someone who was naturally kind. She could see the horse whisperer in him. “If you’re looking for a place to live, I do plan on renting out the apartment above the office space. It’s not big, as you probably know. But it’s . . . cozy. Even has a separate entrance.”

  “Really?” she asked, surprised.

  He nodded.

  A low hum started working within her. It wasn’t exactly how she’d planned it, but maybe it was exactly what she needed—right now, at any rate... “When would it be available?” she asked him.

  That movie-star smile widened. “You can move in anytime you’re ready.”

  * * *

  Blue thundered across the Triple C land. Some days it felt like the earth went on forever. Just long stretches of green and tan and blue sky. Blue might get lost in it if he had a mind. He and Barbarella. And many times over the past few months, he’d either done that or wanted to do that. But things were changing—and changing fast—in his life. Things he had no control over. Things that made him think and act differently. A baby was coming into the world. And its mama was occupying much of Blue’s brain space. How she felt. Whether she was safe. Happy? Christ, he felt on edge, straddling two different worlds—caught between what had happened these past months and what was possible in the months to come.

  He slowed Rella, halted her in the middle of the vast south pasture.

  Mac followed suit, pulling up alongside him, laughing into the wind. “It’s like old times,” she called out. “Racing across Triple C soil. ’Course, we never stopped until I won.”

  He turned to look at her. Oh, Mac. She was always doing that. Always trying. Bringing up the past. Mostly the good stuff in hopes that they could find their way back to the close friendship both of them had enjoyed—even counted on. For the past couple of months, Blue had ignored her attempts to connect. He just couldn’t manage it. Didn’t want it. He knew she hadn’t been a part of the lies and betrayal, but she was married to a Cavanaugh brother, and it made him feel like he couldn’t be vulnerable with her.

  But today, instead of turning away, he did something crazy. Something reckless. He turned to her. Maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe he’d end up regretting it. Maybe she’d tell her husband all about it and they’d have a good laugh. But damn, he needed her. He needed his friend. Now more than he ever had.

  “Can I ask you something?” he said as Rella snorted and tried to walk on. But he held her firm.

  Beside him, Mac instantly sobered, a little flash of hope crossing her features as she too held her horse in check. “’Course.”

  “You think someone who didn’t have a father, didn’t know his father, could be a decent one himself?” Hell, his entire body felt tighter than a newly twisted wire.

  She stared at him, her expression curious and intense. “I think anyone who’s willing to put the work into parenting will succeed at it.”

  He nodded, then turned and looked out over the land.

  “Want to tell me why you’re asking?” she probed, as gently as she’d ever said anything to him.

  “Not just now.”

  “Okay.” She was quiet for a moment. Then she blew out a breath. “You know, I think Deacon would probably wonder the same thing.”

  That brought Blue’s eyes back to her. “But he had a father.”

  “Yeah, early on. But after Cass . . . not so much. The relationship was strained at best. You could say he was more damaged by the parenting he got than supported by it.”

  As the sun clipped his gaze, Blue squinted at her. He’d never thought about Deacon or James or Cole missing out on a daddy. Because, hell, even if yours was a loser, at least you had one. But maybe Mac was right. To be a good parent, successful, really do right by your little one, you just had to want it, work at it—never give up on it.

  “Don’t know why you’re asking,” Mac continued. “Bu
t if you ever choose to become a father, you’ll be amazing at it.” Her eyes connected with his. They were warm and sentimental, and they cut him deep. “We all have our crap that we take into any relationship, Blue. Husband, wife, brother, sister, mother, child. We can’t escape it. No matter how hard we try. We all have a couple strikes against us. But I gotta believe, if there’s love, and a willing heart—”

  “If there’s love,” he interrupted, the bitter edge in his tone barely audible in the cool breeze. “That’s a problem. I wouldn’t know love if it bit me in the ass. Probably because it has, a couple of times lately.”

  He expected her to answer right away, give him a gentle but uplifting speech about how it was people who had the sharp teeth, not love. But she didn’t. Maybe she didn’t want to press things after he’d opened up to her. Or maybe she just thought he was a fool and a jackass, and she didn’t want to waste her breath.

  “Another fence is calling,” he said.

  She nodded slowly, smiled gently, her eyes so soft on his. “There’s always another fence.”

  A smile touched his lips. “Something to count on.”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, then. Should we get ’er done? Mac?”

  Her eyes widened, then suddenly pricked with tears. He knew it was because he’d only called her foreman these past two months, since he’d found out that Everett was his father and fell into a dark place where no one could be trusted. He’d put the wedge, the protective barrier, there between them, in the form of a word. Foreman. Now it didn’t feel right. She was Mac. And they were out riding the land once again.

  A slow smile spread across her features, and she gave her horse a kick. She circled around him once, then pulled her Stetson low. “You ready?”

  “Born ready,” he answered.

  “All right then.” And in the space of a breath, she kicked her mare into a gallop and took off across the plain.

  His heart just a shade lighter than it had been a few minutes ago, Blue followed.