“Good, ‘cause I don’t need it. I need the hard truth. How much work am I looking at…and is this ranch really salvageable?”
Chance looked out over the horizon, his heart soaring as his gaze took in miles and miles of lush green grass. Something about the beauty of the land always made his soul feel cleaner. “Once I get these fences taken care of and let the herd graze out here on healthier grass, you’re going to see a marked difference in them.”
“Yeah, I’ve been keeping them pretty close since I can’t round them up. I knew the fences out this way were in need of repairs and meant to get to them…”
“You did right,” Chance said in effort to erase the look of failure on her pretty little face. “Letting the herd out wouldn’t have been wise if you couldn’t draw them back in. But I’m here now to round them up.”
She smiled her appreciation and his heart swelled at the sight.
“So you paid someone to come in and take care of breeding?”
“Yes. I had every intention of keeping the ranch going and knew I needed to keep the herd numbers increasing, but I just couldn’t…” She wrinkled her nose up. “I don’t know the first thing about picking the right cows to set up for the bulls, and even if I did…”
“Yeah, it’s not very romantic.” Chance tried not to grin at her obvious discomfort broaching the subject. “I’m going to go over everything tonight and see which animals are the best prospects for breeding right now. That’s the main concern at this point, increasing the number of the herd. I’ll look over your records and figure out the most cost effective way of getting the ranch back into peak condition.”
She smiled. “I’d appreciate that.”
“Not a problem.” He went on to the next post and she followed along.
“So you’re really looking for a place of your own? Ready to start a family?”
“Yeah.” He saw himself standing on the porch of his own ranch house, wife by his side. Kenzie briefly appeared in the role, and just as quickly flashed right back out of the picture. He still wasn’t on her level, even if he was able to help save her ranch. He’d always be the help. “I’m pushing forty already and Lord knows I’ve got the aches and pains to show for my rodeo days. I figure I’d best get started on kids while I can still chase after them.” Provided he found a decent woman. Again, Kenzie’s face floated into his mind and he shook his head to chase it away. A woman like her deserved a smarter, richer man. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t landed a husband already. She certainly wasn’t hurting when it came to looks. “I’m kind of surprised you need my help. I figured you’d have a husband who could buy all the help needed to run this place.”
“Yeah, well, guess I haven’t found anyone who’s tickled my fancy enough to hitch up with for the long haul.”
And just how many men had been tickling her fancy? Chance’s hand automatically gripped the hammer tighter and he missed the nail. “Ah, shit,” he growled out as the hammer connected with his thumb. He jerked back, shaking his hand.
Kenzie grabbed for it. “Let me see.”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine”
“You’re bleeding.” She caught his wrist and tugged him toward the direction of her truck. “A cut can get infected. Let me fix it.”
“I’ve had worse cuts than this and lived.”
“Yeah, I can see from the scars, but I still believe in being careful.” She lowered the tailgate and slapped a spot with her hand. “Sit your butt down and quit acting like a man for five seconds.”
Figuring it was less trouble than arguing, Chance did as ordered while she snagged a first aid kit and opened it up. He glanced over at the fence, estimating whether he’d get it all done before dinner. Kenzie covered his cut thumb with a pad soaked in something that burned and he winced, his hand jerking reflexively.
“Aw, I know the big, bad cowboy isn’t fussing over a little sting,” she teased and blew on the cut to soothe the pain.
He swallowed hard as he fixed on her soft, rounded lips. Her eyes raised to meet his gaze and his groin twitched in response. His head lowered purely on its own volition. Hers closed in to meet halfway…
The alarm he’d set on his watch let out three sharp chirps and Chance jerked, snatching his hand back to turn it off. “I gotta get washed up and head over to the cemetery,” he explained hastily and rose to his feet.
“Wait.” Kenzie quickly bandaged his thumb, her hands trembling. “Don’t you mean funeral home?”
“No funeral.” He held her surprised gaze. “My mother didn’t have a lot of friends, and we don’t come from much family. It’s just Lucky and me now. We’ve decided on a simple burial today.”
She squeezed his arm. “I’ll come with you.”
“Why?” He asked the question before thinking better of it and was met with hurt eyes.
“You were there for me when I lost my mother. I thought I’d return the favor.” She closed up the first aid kit and slammed the tailgate shut. “I guess I overestimated our friendship. Sorry I invited myself.”
He blew out a breath and searched for a way to explain without hurting her feelings further, or making himself look like an uncaring jerk. “You had a great mother, Kenzie. My mom and I…we weren’t like that.”
“She was still your mother. You must feel something.” She watched him, seeming to search his face. “I thought you might need a friend, but I guess I’m wrong to assume—”
“You can come.” He regretted the words the moment they slipped out, but he couldn’t pull them back in. “It’s really not that big a deal though, so don’t expect much.”
She frowned, but nodded in acceptance. “You can wash up at the main house. It’ll be quicker, unless you’ve already dropped your clothes off at the bunkhouse.”
“No, they’re in my truck.”
“Good. Want a ride over to your truck?”
He glanced in the direction he’d left it and realized they’d moved far enough down that it was out of eyesight. “No, I could use the exercise to clear my head.” He started off toward it, not bothering to mention he needed the time to allow the blood to drain back out of his dick after being sent careening there by the feel of her breath on his skin.
Chapter Five
“We are here today to lay to rest Charlene Marie Masters, who is survived by her sons, Chance Aaron and Lucky Penny.”
Laughter crept up Kenzie’s throat and she just barely managed to cover her mouth before it erupted. The result was a choked sound, which earned her a reproachful look from the minister, and a narrow-eyed glare from Lucky, who stood on the opposite side of his mother’s casket. She risked a look at Chance out of the corner of her eye and saw a hint of a smile.
“No need for our full names to be aired, Reverend,” Lucky muttered, swaying a bit. He’d arrived to the cemetery in his own truck and promptly spilled out of it once his door opened. The smell of alcohol currently battled for dominance with the scent of freshly dug earth.
Neither brother appeared to have considered dressing up for the event. She was apparently overdressed in a dark blue sundress and low-healed sandal compared to Chance’s plain brown T-shirt and jeans. Lucky had arrived in frayed jeans, and a wife-beater with an open blue and white short-sleeved shirt. His clothes could have been what he’d worn from the day before for all she knew. They were certainly wrinkled as if he’d been sleeping in them.
The minister blew out an irritated breath and continued. “Sister Masters made mistakes in her life, but was a child of God. Her fifty-four years on this earth were cut tragically short, but now she…”
Kenzie’s mind wandered away from what the reverend was saying about eternal life in Heaven as she quickly did the math. Chance’s mother had only been sixteen years old when he was born, which would have made her twenty when she’d had Lucky.
He stared down at the casket where it sat next to the grave it would be lowered into once they left. Lucky was a couple of inches taller than Chance, with a leaner build. The brothe
rs shared their dark blue eyes, but Lucky’s face was longer, his nose sharper and thinner. He had the blonde good looks of a young Robert Redford, whereas Chance was more ruggedly handsome.
She’d never noticed it before since they shared the same last name, but other than the eyes, they didn’t look as similar as a pair of brothers should. There was no mention of whether Charlene had survived or been survived by a husband in her eulogy, and Kenzie figured that probably meant the woman hadn’t married. That thought led her to wondering whether the brothers shared the same father.
She watched Chance out of the corner of her eye and could see the indentation where his jaw was clenched tight. His head was bowed, eyes closed, and nostrils flared as if angry. Tension rolled off of him, but she didn’t know whether it was due to his emotions over his mother’s young death, or anger over his brother arriving to the burial drunk. She slid her hand into his and was relieved when he didn’t fling it away, but instead held on tight. Feeling more confident, she moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder, hoping to infuse her love into him. His body stiffened, but he didn’t move away.
The reverend wrapped up the eulogy and the brothers tossed yellow roses onto the plain brown casket holding their mother’s remains.
“Thanks, Reverend.” Chance’s voice came out rough. “I know you didn’t know her well.” He let go of her hand as he stepped forward to shake the reverend’s.
Kenzie instantly felt the loss of warmth along her palm. Already, she was falling right back in love with the man.
She’d ignored the way her breath had seized the moment she’d laid eyes on his naked torso in the field, attributing it as the normal reaction any woman would have at the sight of such a healthy, virile male, and the stab of pain in her heart when she’d seen the violent scars on his body. Seeing those scars, and knowing what they’d come from, would have caused such an emotion in anyone, but she couldn’t ignore the way her heart broke for him now. He hadn’t shed a single tear, hadn’t uttered one word during the eulogy, but she’d felt his roiling emotions and longed to take his anguish away.
She could tell herself she was ready to let him go and find happiness with whomever he chose as a wife, and that she cared about him as a friend, but it was all a lie. Her love for him went beyond the familial love of old friends. It was a greedy, selfish love, and she feared that would never change.
Kenzie waited as Chance exchanged a few words with the reverend and then turned to leave. His gaze passed right over her to where his brother swayed a few feet ahead.
“Hey!” He quickly caught up and snatched Lucky’s keys from his hand.
The younger brother’s face twisted into a scowl. “Give me back my damn keys.”
“No. You’re riding with us or walking.”
Lucky glared her way, and Kenzie wrapped her arms around herself, uncomfortable with the anger now coming off both brothers. She glanced around to see the reverend walking in the opposite direction toward his car. The caretaker stood nearby, but paid the brothers no mind.
Lucky stepped closer to Chance. “You may be my big brother, but you might want to consider I’m still bigger than you.”
He shoved Chance’s shoulder and Chance grabbed his wrist before twisting him around and shoving him away. Hard. “You’re a few inches taller than me, Luck, but I’m still bigger than your scrawny ass. You might want to remember that.”
Scrawny? Kenzie would have never chosen that word to describe Lucky’s build, but compared to Chance, who had the broad shoulders of a linebacker, he was the “smaller” of the two brothers. Both were big enough that a fight between them could be one bloody mess.
“Guys. Come on, you don’t want to do this.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Lucky narrowed his eyes on Chance. “Big brother looks like he’s just picking for a fight.”
“I’m not picking for a fight, Lucky. We just put our mother in the ground. I don’t want to put you in it too after you run that truck off the road.”
Chance’s admission seemed to wipe out all of Lucky’s defiant attitude. The younger brother dropped his head, turned, and tripped over a tombstone.
“He just tripped over a tombstone.” Chance blinked and shook his head. “How drunk do you have to be to trip over a frigging tombstone?”
Kenzie watched as Chance helped his brother off the ground, wrapping one of Lucky’s long arms around his neck as he half-carried him toward the truck. Lucky passed out halfway and Chance slung him over his shoulder, grunting from the exertion of carrying the dead weight.
“Should you be lifting that much weight?”
“I was gored a long time ago. I’ve been healed for at least three months,” Chance answered. “Lugging this runt isn’t a problem.”
“I don’t think I’d call Lucky a runt.”
“That’s because you didn’t know him when he was one.” They reached the truck and Chance unceremoniously dumped his brother in the back.
“Chance!” Kenzie winced as Lucky moaned. “Couldn’t you be a little more gentle?”
“Lucky doesn’t need babying,” he snapped, coming around to open the passenger side door for her. “He needs a good kick in the ass.”
“I seriously doubt that’s what he needs.” Kenzie stood outside the truck and folded her arms. “Do you even know why he’s drinking so much?”
Chance’s eyes narrowed. “I reckon because it’s how he’s dealing with our mother’s death?”
Kenzie rolled her eyes and shook her head. Poor Lucky. And poor Chance. She knew for a fact the man wasn’t as cold as he appeared now. “Your mother passed away within this past week. Lucky’s been getting wasted for a few months now.”
Chance’s eyes widened at that information and he blew out a breath before scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t know. He didn’t tell me.”
“Did you ask him why he’s drinking? Have you asked him anything at all?”
“Why the hell are you grilling me about my brother?” He didn’t bother hiding his irritation.
“Because…” Kenzie searched her mind for an answer. Something was bugging her, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. One thing she knew, this was the sorriest memorial she’d ever seen, and Chance didn’t seem to even care. The death of their mother should have brought the brothers closer, but now they seemed at each other’s throats, both of them ready to start swinging fists. “Because unless you forgot to invite the rest of your family to the burial, it appears Lucky is the only family you have.”
“And?” Chance’s jaw clenched tight. “I believe I’ve already told you that.”
“Well, if he’s all you have left, shouldn’t you be more concerned with your brother’s mental state?”
He laughed. “Lucky’s not mentally ill, Kenz. He’s just plain drunk.”
“Oh forget it.” Rolling her eyes, Kenzie moved to step past Chance and the door he held open for her, but he snatched her forearm and tugged her back.
“Is there something about my brother I should know?”
“Yes.”
Chance stared at her for a moment then raised his eyebrows when she didn’t say anything else. “Well, what is it?”
“Here’s a wacky idea. Why don’t you ask him?”
“Because maybe I figure he’ll tell me what’s up with him when he damn well feels like it.” Chance stepped closer. “Look, we’re not the frigging Brady Bunch. We don’t have discussions over dinner or do the touchy-feely-huggy crap. We’re not Calhouns.”
Kenzie stepped back, surprised by the bitterness in his tone. “Do you have a problem with my family?”
“No, but you obviously have a problem with mine.” He raised his Stetson long enough to rake a hand through his hair. “I knew you shouldn’t have come here. Someone like you could never understand the relationship I have with my family. Lucky and I aren’t like you. We never will be.”
“Someone like me? What exactly—” She stopped herself before giving in to her anger
and fueling the argument. The man standing before her had just buried his mother. Despite whatever differences they’d had, he had to be struggling inside. He probably didn’t mean half the things he was saying. “I understand that this must be a hard time for you right now. I’m not going to argue with you anymore. Give me Lucky’s keys.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re taking Lucky back to my place and I’m going to drive his truck back there. I don’t care what you do when you get back to the ranch, but dinner is at six o’clock and I expect both of you to be seated at the table.”
Chance slammed the passenger door closed and held out the keys, reluctantly passing them into her hand. “You and Lucky didn’t know each other that well before I left. You must have gotten closer during the time I was gone if you’re this concerned about him.”
“No.” She shrugged. “You’ve always been in my life, Chance. I care for you, and by extension I care for your brother, especially after what he’s been through. You need to talk to him and help him get through this.”
“Get through what?” Chance threw his hands in the air. “He’s not telling me anything, and unless I beat it out of him he’s probably not going to.”
“Just ask him.” She glanced into the back of the truck where Lucky lay unconscious. “If he doesn’t tell you by dinner time, I’ll…I’ll tell you as much as I know.”
Chapter Six
Chance pulled the truck over to the side of the access road near the spot he’d stopped working on the fence and grabbed one of the few water bottles he kept in the cab. Sliding out, he rounded the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate before grabbing a pair of size twelve boots and tugging.
Lucky slid out of the truck bed and landed in a heap on the ground. Other than a grunt and visible grimace, he didn’t budge so Chance opened the water bottle and turned it sideways, dousing the blonde cowboy with the cool liquid.
Cook County Cowboys Page 5
