Lone Star Blues

by Delores Fossen

  “Daddy,” Corbin gushed.

  That was another thing on his to-do list—getting Corbin to call him something else. But maybe he could put that off until tomorrow.

  “Ride de horsey today?” Corbin asked.

  “Sure. Just finish your lunch first.” And it seemed as if he had a ways to go since he was picking at his vegetables. Whatever had been on the other side of his plate, though, was completely gone except for some smears of ketchup.

  “Regina fixed him chicken nuggets,” Karlee said, following Dylan’s gaze.

  Dylan should have guessed, since those were Corbin’s favorite along with pepperoni pizza and any kind of pasta.

  “Where is Mom?” he asked. “And please don’t tell me she went with Jordan to see Adele.”

  “No. At least I don’t think so, but she did ask me to watch Corbin while she went to talk to her lawyer.”

  Dylan groaned. “She shouldn’t have done that. You’ve got work to do. If she pulls that again, come and get me.” Of course, there wouldn’t be too many chances for something like this anymore.

  “It’s okay. I needed a lunch break anyway.” Karlee paused. “Regina did ask me if I’d help her fight Mack for custody.”

  Dylan didn’t bother groaning again. He’d already done too much of that along with pissing and moaning.

  “I’m sure the lawyer will tell Regina that she doesn’t have a case,” Karlee went on, “but I couldn’t talk her out of going to the appointment.”

  No, Karlee and no one else on the planet could have managed to stop Regina when she had something in her head.

  “Ride de horsey soon,” Corbin babbled.

  And he must have really wanted to go riding because he was chowing down on the veggies while Karlee got up and walked closer to Dylan. Judging from the dark circles under her eyes, she’d gotten just about as much sleep as he had. Which wasn’t very much at all. Lots of tossing and turning had been involved.

  “Dylan, I’m so sorry.”

  He’d lost count of how many apologies she’d given him, and she didn’t owe him a single one. Dylan hoped he let her know that by brushing a kiss on the top of her head. “Have you talked to Mack today?”

  She nodded. “He looked for a place all yesterday afternoon, but there are no rentals in his price range here in Wrangler’s Creek. He’s going to have to move to my house in San Antonio.”

  San Antonio wasn’t far, but it’d be a commute for Mack to get to work every day at the Granger Ranch. A commute that would mean Corbin would likely end up in San Antonio with a sitter. Dylan had hoped he’d be closer so he could check to make sure he was okay.

  “Maybe Mack and Corbin could stay in the guesthouse,” Dylan said.

  It wasn’t exactly an off the top of his head suggestion. Nor was it a particularly good one. Because it would keep Corbin at the ranch where he’d continue to think of it as home and call Dylan “Daddy.” It would also put Mack right under Dylan’s nose, and right now, that wasn’t a good place for Mack to be.

  Karlee shook her head. “It’s a kind offer, but Mack says he wants to try this on his own. Of course, he won’t be on his own when he’s at my apartment, but he claims that’s only temporary. He wants a place with a yard so that Corbin will have his own room and a place to play.”

  Good. Corbin needed those things. Mack was at least thinking of the big picture. That was more than Dylan was doing. He was still in the heart-wrenching mode of not wanting to lose a little boy that he loved.

  “Mack also saw a lawyer yesterday,” Karlee went on, her voice a whisper now. “He’s getting a simple custody agreement drawn up for Adele to sign. The lawyer said it’d be ready this morning so it’s possible Mack’s already picked it up to take to the jail.”

  Things were certainly moving along. An apartment and now papers. Dylan had thought he might have a couple more days with Corbin, but this might be his last one.

  “I’ll help Mack and Corbin of course,” Karlee added. “Well, as much as Mack will let me help.” She paused, shook her head again. “I think I pushed him too hard when I was talking to him yesterday. I told him I didn’t think he was up to being a father, and he seemed to take that as some kind of challenge. If I’d just kept my mouth shut...”

  Dylan pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay.”

  It wasn’t. In fact, it was as far from okay as it could get, but he didn’t want Karlee putting this on her shoulders. She’d already done that enough when it came to her brothers.

  Karlee moved away from him when they heard the footsteps coming toward them. Not Regina but Jordan. And yeah, she looked just as bad as the rest of them. Except she seemed even more concerned—if that was possible. Her forehead was bunched up and her breath was uneven.

  “Have you spoken to Lucian?” Jordan asked him.

  “Not in the last two hours or so. Why?” Dylan almost hated to tack on this next question. “Did something else go wrong?”

  She nodded, her gaze firing to Corbin. Karlee picked up on the cue and scooped up Corbin. “You’ve finished enough of those carrots,” she told him. “Let’s go look at the horses so you can pick out which one you want to ride.”

  Nothing could have pleased Corbin more unless it’d been the offer for him to get a ride right now. He grinned and went straight to her.

  “Nothing’s wrong with Lucian, is there?” Karlee whispered to Jordan.

  “No, he’s fine,” Jordan quickly assured her. “This is about Adele. Mostly anyway.”

  Hell. Considering Jordan’s breath gusts and such, Dylan hadn’t expected there to be a silver lining in whatever storm cloud was about to hit them, but it was an especially bad mix if Lucian had something to do with it.

  “No sugarcoating,” Dylan instructed Jordan when Karlee and Corbin were out of the kitchen. “Just go ahead and tell me what happened. Did Adele agree with Mack having custody?”

  She took another of those ragged breaths first. “I wasn’t able to get in to see Adele because she’s in lockdown. She organized a protest over...panties.”

  Dylan sure hadn’t expected that to come out of her mouth. “Panties?”

  This time Jordan huffed. “It’s not going to make sense to you or anybody else, but it’s an Adele thing. She apparently disapproved of the choice of panty material so she put together a protest, but it turned ugly. Since Adele was the ringleader, they charged her with inciting a riot. And assault.”

  “Assault?” Great day in the morning.

  “Adele kicked another guard in the nuts when he tried to put her back in her cell.” She mumbled some profanity. “If it weren’t so serious, it’d be laughable. But, Dylan, this is going to add a lot of time to her jail sentence. Since Adele’s already on probation, Lucian thinks it could add up to ten years with the five years she already has.”

  Well, hell. That meant Mack would essentially end up getting permanent custody of Corbin since he’d be nearly eighteen by the time Adele got out of jail. And it might be even longer if she couldn’t stay out of trouble.

  Dylan had to shake his head, though, at something Jordan had said. “How the hell is Lucian involved in this?”

  He could tell from her expression that he wasn’t going to like this, either. “Lucian was there at the jail trying to visit Adele when the riot broke out. When he heard about the new charges, he hired Adele a new attorney. A team of them.”

  On the surface that didn’t sound worthy of a bunched-up forehead so Dylan made a circling motion with his finger for her to continue.

  “Lucian says he’ll try to help Adele get these new charges reduced.” Jordan paused. “In exchange, he wants her to sign over custody of Corbin to you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  DYLAN FELT AS if he were about to start an Old West showdown with Lucian. No guns or quick draws at high noon in the center of town. This one would take place i
n Lucian’s office at the ranch where he’d just arrived after Dylan had spent most of the afternoon waiting for him. But instead of bullets, there’d be words.

  Some bad ones.

  That’s why Dylan had had Jordan take Corbin to the barn. They’d already had their ride for the day—a long one since it could be the last one—but seeing the horses would keep the boy occupied while Dylan had it out with his brother.

  “Are you trying to win the dick-of-the-year award?” Dylan asked him.

  Lucian didn’t seem surprised or upset with the question. “According to plenty of folks, I’ve had that award for some time now.” He eased off his Stetson and calmly made his way to his desk before he even looked at Dylan. “I’m sure it’s occurred to you that I went to Adele to try to help you.”

  And that’s what made this even more infuriating. “You tried to blackmail a woman in prison. That’s a new low even for you.”

  “It could have gotten you Corbin,” Lucian pointed out just as quickly.

  Dylan was well aware of that. Well aware, too, that he would do almost anything to keep the boy. But almost anything didn’t include browbeating a woman when she was down. Even when that woman had lied to him and torn his life into a million little pieces.

  “Call off your lawyer dogs,” Dylan warned him. “If Adele wants a new attorney, I’ll hire one for her. One that won’t come with dick-strings attached.”

  Lucian lifted his shoulder in a suit-yourself gesture. “Adele turned me down, by the way.”

  Dylan had figured that. Adele was a nutjob, but she wouldn’t have kowtowed to Lucian over something like this.

  “I didn’t try to do this just for you,” Lucian went on. “I did it for Corbin, too. Mack’s going to be a shitty father, and you know it.”

  Yeah, he did. “That’s why I’ll help him. And Karlee and Jordan will. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mom doesn’t get in on the helping, as well. Because we all want Mack to make this work.”

  Man, it hurt to say that, but it was the only choice he had here. Just because Mack had screwed up in the past, it shouldn’t mean he didn’t deserve to raise his son. And Dylan knew a whole lot about brands and overcoming what folks expected.

  “Is Adele still on lockdown?” Dylan asked.

  “No. I was able to talk to her, and as I was leaving, she got another visitor. Mack. He said his lawyer had drawn up some papers for Adele to sign.”

  Custody papers. Dylan had thought—hoped—there might be a glitch or holdup with that but apparently not. In fact, Adele had probably already signed them. That was a reminder that he needed to wrap up this chat with Lucian and go spend what little time he had left with Corbin.

  “Look, I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but stay out of this,” he warned Lucian as he headed out the door.

  Dylan went toward the back porch, but before he could even make it outside, he saw Karlee and Jordan walking toward the house. Jordan was holding Corbin, and he was sacked out, his head on her shoulder.

  Karlee and Jordan were talking, obviously about something that amused them because they were both smiling, but the smiles and whispered conversation stopped when they spotted him. Too bad. Because it was nice to see smiles for a change when there’d been so much gloom. Of course, most of the gloom was coming from him.

  “Corbin fell asleep on a hay bale,” Jordan said.

  The disappointment hit him harder than it should have. Though anything was going to hit him pretty hard right now. Corbin’s naps lasted an hour or more, and those were minutes that Dylan wouldn’t have with him.

  Yeah, he was definitely the gloom generator, and he needed to find out what had caused Jordan to smile so he could maybe get a dose of it.

  “Did you talk to Lucian?” Jordan asked. Definitely no smile accompanied that.

  He nodded, and that was all it took for Karlee to spring into action.

  “Let me put Corbin to bed,” Karlee offered, easing Corbin away from Jordan and into her arms. “I’ve got an errand to run, but I’ll have Regina watch him.”

  Dylan thanked her and brushed a kiss on Corbin’s head, but he didn’t answer Jordan’s question until Karlee had walked away with the boy. “Adele declined Lucian’s offer.”

  She nodded. “I figured as much. Adele doesn’t do well with demands like that. Besides, it’s probably occurred to her now that she was wrong not to have told Mack about Corbin.”

  Yeah, it was wrong. In the month that Dylan had thought Corbin was his, he’d blasted Adele for not coming clean with him, and now he would do the same about Mack. Even though it felt like a stick to the gut to stand up for the man who’d be taking Corbin from him.

  “What were you and Karlee laughing about?” Dylan asked. In the grand scheme of things, it probably wasn’t important, but he was pretty sure a laugh or even a smile would feel good right about now.

  Jordan took hold of his arm and started leading him toward the barn. Definitely not the direction he’d go for some levity. Apparently, though, Jordan thought otherwise because she took him all the way to the other end of the barn and threw open the door to the overflow tack room.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “Corbin didn’t see it. And even if he had, he wouldn’t have known what it was.”

  Dylan didn’t have to ask what she was talking about because he saw it the moment he looked inside. On the wall next to the calendar from the feed store and a half dozen scrawled notes about what to do/not do and touch/don’t touch, there were at least a hundred of the sex bingo cards. Someone had pinned them up as if they had some importance in the daily operation of a ranch or tack room.

  He cursed. “I swear, those cards are like rabbits. They keep breeding.”

  Jordan chuckled. “Abe apparently asked the hands to keep an eye out for them, that he would pay them five dollars each for any they could find.”

  “Hell. I was paying Abe ten dollars apiece.” That meant the cook had been making a tidy profit and probably hadn’t done a lick of work to find any of the cards. Still, it showed initiative—something that was rare when it came to Abe.

  “Some are the old ones,” Jordan went on, plucking one from the wall and handing it to Dylan.

  It was indeed one from the original batch, and whoever had owned this card had checked off one of the boxes: have your hands on Dylan’s butt.

  “Well, that explains why Shayla Conners groped me in the grocery store,” he grumbled, still not finding anything about this to make him smile.

  “At least half of the new ones are about us.” Jordan pulled another one and passed it to him.

  Yep. Nothing had been checked off on this one, but it had an interesting center square: Dylan and Jordan have sex in the barn. The top right box was for them to remarry.

  Now Jordan laughed again. “All of the new ones are the same so I think Abe or one of the hands must have copied them so they could make a little pocket money.”

  Maybe more than just pocket money. If he’d still been doing the payout to Abe, there was anywhere from five hundred to a thousand bucks worth of cards held up by all those pushpins.

  “You have to admit it’s funny,” Jordan said.

  He still wasn’t seeing it, but Dylan got a glimmer of glee when he looked at Jordan. She was smiling, a big wide smile that lit up her face, and it occurred to him that other than Corbin, they hadn’t had too many smiling, light moments in the past month. Maybe she’d decided to lower the bar when it came to that sort of thing.

  Dylan lowered his, too, and he joined her in the smile. Man, it felt good. It felt even better when she saw his goofy grin and chuckled. Still chuckling, she leaned against him. Probably not foreplay, but whenever she touched him, there was always the possibility that it would feel like that.

  Apparently, that was the case when she smiled, too.

  Because Dylan leaned in and tasted that
smile. Yeah, it was good. Exactly as he thought it would be. Soft and Jordan-scented. He lingered a moment, savoring it and her, but then he eased back expecting to see regret or some other cautionary warning that smooching in the tack room had led to sex when they were teenagers, and it could do the same now.

  But no regret.

  Which was troubling because he kept going back to the notion of pity sex and making out. He thought that was maybe what Jordan had done when they’d been together. And it had to stop. Dylan would have been the one to stop it, too, if she hadn’t hooked her hand over the back of his neck and pulled him to her. Jordan slid her hand over his butt.

  “That’s one bingo square filled,” she said.

  Oh, so this was the game. Except maybe it wasn’t. Because she kissed him, and it seemed too simple a square just to have a kiss in the barn. Still, what did he know? It was a stupid game. However, it seemed to be leading to a really nice moment here. Maybe some long, slow kisses. A little touching. Something easy and laid-back...

  “We have to hurry,” Jordan insisted. She started unbuttoning his shirt. “Corbin might not sleep long.”

  The moment she had his shirt open, she landed against his chest. Now normally, that would have been exactly where he’d want Jordan to land at the start of something like this, but there was a problem.

  He didn’t know what this was.

  “Is it just sex?” he blurted out, and wished he’d rehearsed it so that it sounded better.

  She pulled back, blinked. “Is that what you want it to be?”

  If he knew the answer to that, he wouldn’t be standing there with her hand on his chest and his hands on her butt. He would have either been removing clothes or walking away.

  Dylan was leaning toward the clothing removal.

  But that was his dick talking, and he was pretty sure he could make more sense than that brainless part of him. He’d had sex with a lot of women, but it’d never quite been just sex with Jordan. It still wasn’t. Which meant he could end up paying dearly for the orgasm he was about to give her.