A massive understatement, and Sophie wanted to shake Valerie senseless for rejecting her own son. Of course, judging from the woman’s behavior, she already was senseless.
“We know you called her,” Sophie continued. “Clay... Chief McKinnon found out. And we also know that it upset you when she told you she didn’t want you to come to Santa Fe.” Valerie hadn’t confirmed that last part, but Sophie had some inkling of what was going on in Tate’s head.
Again, Tate took his time before he said anything. “Mom might change her mind.”
Again, Sophie wished Valerie were there so she could give her a hard shake. Because the woman had had over a decade to change her mind, and she hadn’t done it yet.
When they pulled into the driveway, Sophie spotted her car. And the tire was no longer flat. One of the ranch hands had likely fixed it and driven it home.
Roman, Garrett and her mother were waiting on the porch, and the moment Clay stopped, Roman barreled down the steps toward the truck with Garrett and her mom right behind him. Sophie wasn’t sure what he was going to say to his son, and it seemed as if Roman wasn’t sure, either.
“First things first—you’re grounded,” Roman finally snarled. “Second, why the hell would you do something like this? And third—you’re grounded.”
Just seconds earlier Tate had looked seriously defeated, but facing his dad put some of that cockiness in his expression. Sheez. He wasn’t just a copy of his dad—Tate could do the I-don’t-give-a-crap look as well as Roman could.
“He was upset over his call with Valerie,” Sophie reminded Roman, though she’d already told him that over the phone.
“Yeah, I’m upset about it, too.” Roman stopped, and even though he didn’t curse, Sophie figured there was a whole lot of profanity flying through his head. “Why would you call her?”
Tate just kept up that same expression. “Because she’s my mom. I know you don’t want her to be, but you can’t change that.”
Roman opened his mouth, closed it, cursed.
“You shouldn’t talk like that in front of the boy,” Belle scolded.
“So, I’ll ground myself. Stay out of this, Mom.”
“No, I won’t stay out of it.”
Garrett and she groaned. Clay glanced around as if he suddenly wanted to be anywhere but there.
“If you’d just put a ring on Valerie’s finger, then this might not be happening,” their mother added.
Roman didn’t aim the look at Belle, but his expression morphed into a glare that could have frozen Texas in July. “No. She would have just left town with the ring.”
Good comeback, but Sophie knew that wouldn’t deter her mother. Whenever Belle was anywhere near Roman, she just had to preach to him.
“I married Meredith, and that didn’t turn out so great,” Garrett said, interrupting whatever their mother had been about to say.
Sophie interrupted her for the next round. “And I was engaged to be married to Brantley. Didn’t work for me, either.”
“Thanks,” Roman mumbled to them, “but I can fight my own battles.”
Clay no doubt heard that, but he was the one who interrupted Belle the third time. He didn’t aim his comments at her, but rather Roman. “I’ll close out the missing person’s report, and if you want me to deal with the follow-up, just let me know. I’ll be glad to have a chat with the teenager who gave Tate a ride to Wrangler’s Creek.”
“Thanks,” Roman said, “but I’d like to chat with him myself.”
Clay looked at Sophie, maybe silently asking if that was a safe solution. It was. Roman could be a badass, and he might scare this teenager, but he wouldn’t physically harm him. Tate, either. But she was betting her brother would follow through on the grounding.
“Hold on there a second, Chief McKinnon,” Belle said when Clay started to get back in his truck. “I heard you were kissing my daughter. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Not this, not now. Sophie would have screamed, but she was too busy groaning. In fact, it was a chorus of groans what with Garrett and Clay joining in. Roman punctuated it with more mumbled profanity.
“It’s not a good idea,” Clay assured her mother. “But sometimes people don’t always do what’s good. Me included.”
Belle huffed, obviously seeing that as an attempt to blow her off. “Well, will it happen again?”
“You should ask me that because I’m the one who started the kissing,” Sophie spoke up.
Clay gave her an I-can-fight-my-own-battles look that was similar to Roman’s. It still didn’t stop her mother from prattling on.
“Your sister won’t like you seeing Sophie, and my daughter’s already had enough drama in her life what with Brantley and the skirt-chasing Shane.”
Also as Roman had done, Clay opened his mouth, closed it. Then he nodded. He was no doubt biting his tongue. Maybe literally. He tipped his cowboy hat as a farewell, got in his truck and drove off.
Sophie felt as if he’d driven off with a little piece of her heart.
It was stupid to feel anything for him what with her life and her family falling squarely into the “messy” category. But it hurt to think that she might not get to kiss him again.
“Let’s go,” Roman said to Tate. He threw open his truck door and motioned for Tate to get inside.
Tate stayed put. “I want to stay here. And I have to pee.”
Roman tipped his eyes to the heavens as if seeking divine help. Sophie figured all parents needed a little of that. “I’ll stop at the gas station, and you can pee there,” Roman answered. “Now get in.”
“How about you stay for a while?” Garrett suggested. “You, Tate, Sophie and me could camp out at Z.T.’s old house.”
“I’m not rewarding him for pulling crap like this,” Roman snapped.
Well, it wouldn’t have actually been a reward as far as Sophie was concerned since the place was no doubt crawling with spiders and coated with enough dust to trigger an asthma attack. But she would have done it if Roman had agreed.
He didn’t.
“In the truck now,” Roman repeated to Tate.
Tate must have realized there was no stall tactic to deter a pissed-off father so he intensified his glare and slid onto the truck seat.
“The boy can stay,” Belle piped up. “You’re clearly having trouble handling him so you just leave him here.”
Too bad her mother hadn’t added some maybes and pleases in that demand. Also too bad that it was indeed a demand.
Roman didn’t look at her. A couple of muscles flickered in his jaw. “Need I remind you that I own this land and this house...where you live? Think about that, Mother, and stay the heck out of our lives.”
It was a hollow threat. At least Sophie thought it was. Roman had a temper, but he also had common sense. He wouldn’t sell the place out from under Garrett, Lawson and her. But at the moment he likely wanted to ban Belle from the ranch, maybe from Wrangler’s Creek if he could have managed it.
“You see my side of this, don’t you?” Belle asked Garrett and her as Roman drove away. She didn’t wait for an answer, which would have been no! “I hope Tate gets to pee soon. It’s not good for a boy to hold his bladder like that.”
Tate’s bladder was the least of their problems right now. Garrett started walking in the direction of the barn. “I’m spending the night at Z.T.’s house, and I’m going by myself,” he added, and though he didn’t leave any room for argument, Sophie had to give him one anyway.
“I’ll go with you. It’s not a good idea for you to be out there alone.”
“Being alone is exactly what I want,” he muttered and kept walking.
Sophie considered going after him but decided instead to call Lawson so he could ride out there and check on him. Garrett wouldn’t like that, but it was
better than her worrying about him all night. Of course, she’d be worrying about Tate and Roman. About Clay and his family situation, too. Plus, Mila was probably a wreck by now over this whole runaway ordeal, and getting caught in the fantasy.
And then there was her mother.
Belle was sniffling as if fighting back tears, and because this insensitive woman was still her mother, Sophie gave her a hug.
“I think I’ll drive over to Mary Lynn’s house for some girl time,” Belle said. Mary Lynn had been her mother’s best friend since childhood and was a yes woman. She would tell Belle exactly what she wanted to hear—which was better than Sophie would be able to do at the moment.
She followed her mother onto the porch, but the moment Belle was inside, she took her purse from the hall closet and grabbed her keys. That’s when Sophie saw the pink envelope sitting on the foyer table.
“Oh, Lawson fixed your flat and brought that in for you,” her mother said. “He mentioned something about the lube that you left behind worked like a charm.”
That improved Sophie’s posture a little. Ironic that Lawson had chosen the word charm when it had involved something from Vita.
Her mother motioned to the envelope on her way to the door. “I’ll be here tomorrow when you open it.”
Tomorrow. Her thirtieth birthday.
“Alice has the night off,” Belle added, heading out, “but if you’re hungry, she left lasagna in the fridge. Don’t wait up for me ’cause I’ll probably be late.”
Sophie shut the door, took the letter and headed to the kitchen. Not for lasagna but for a beer. She might need something stronger, but at least if she had too much to drink and got whiney, there’d be no one around to see or hear her.
No one around, either, to witness her reaction to her father’s letter.
Her birthday wouldn’t be much of a birthday, but there was no use spoiling what was left to spoil by waiting to read what would almost certainly be sucky news. She sat on the stool at the kitchen island, tore open the envelope and got started.
The letter was typed, not handwritten, and that twisted her gut a little more than it already was. He’d personally written Garrett’s and Roman’s, but apparently by the time he’d gotten to hers, he’d either been too weak to write it himself or too busy tidying up his empire despite the fact he couldn’t take it to the grave with him.
“Sophie,” she began reading aloud.
“By now you’ve followed through on your life plan and are a married woman. Brantley had better be treating you right, though now that I’m dead, it’s all right for you to hear that I’ve always thought he was somewhat of a spineless weasel.”
Sophie laughed. She’d only been dating Brantley for about a year before her dad got sick, but even then they’d been talking marriage, kids, growing old together. So much for that. She continued to read.
“Of course, maybe all fathers feel that no man is good enough for their daughters, so if Brantley is treating you right, make sure he doesn’t see this letter.”
If Brantley hadn’t read it already, then he wouldn’t get the chance to see it now. Because when she was finished reading it, Sophie was going to light a fire and burn it to ashes.
“Now, here comes the part you’re dreading because I’m sure you know there was what your brothers considered bad news in their letters. I had my reasons for doing what I did, reasons they might someday see as a good thing.”
Not likely. But Sophie steeled herself up and kept on reading.
“I want you to try to mend the rift between your mother and Roman. I wish I could say it had been mended, but I know your mother, and she’d rather be right than happy. Not a good high road to take, considering Roman’s mule-headedness. So, mend it if you can so that Tate will one day be able to call the ranch his home.”
If only. After what’d just happened, Roman might never let him set foot on Granger land again.
She pushed that dreary thought aside and got back to the letter. “And finally, Sophie, here’s what I’m giving you...”
Sophie stopped reading aloud because she was certain she wasn’t seeing the words right. She looked at them again. And again.
But they didn’t change.
Although it was hard to tell now that her eyes were filled with tears. Sophie held the letter to her chest and let the tears continue to fall.
CHAPTER TEN
CLAY TOOK A deep breath, which he was certain he would need, and knocked on Brantley’s door. No answer so he knocked again. After a repeat of the no-answer, he rang the doorbell.
Every second that crawled by only caused his insides to churn more. If April had talked Brantley into leaving, then there was no telling where they could be. He’d have to go searching for them, and after the day he’d already had, Clay just wanted to go home and crash in bed. However, he couldn’t even think about doing that until he made sure his sister and nephews were okay.
He rang the bell a third time and took out his phone to try calling. But that wasn’t necessary. The third time worked—the door flew open, and he came face-to-face with a crying pregnant woman.
“I don’t want to see you,” April snapped through the sniffles.
Clay used his foot to stop her from slamming the door in his face. “Tough. Because you’re seeing me and we’re talking.”
“Nunk!” Hunter squealed and went running toward Clay. Hayden was right on his heels, and Clay scooped them up. The hugs he gave them were for him because the thought of losing moments like this with them had shaken him more than Clay realized.
Brantley came out from the kitchen, and judging from his expression, he’d been through the wringer. Good. Because in a way, this was all Brantley’s fault. If he’d just gone through with the wedding to Sophie...
But Clay stopped.
Frowned.
And he silently groaned when he realized he was damn glad that marriage hadn’t happened. Of course, he wished that Brantley hadn’t wedded April, but that was a different kind of silent groan.
“I was about to put the boys to bed,” Brantley volunteered.
Clay looked at his sister to see what she had to say about that. He figured she was about to snarl something about they’d be leaving first thing in the morning, but she only took the boys from Clay and passed them to Brantley. The boys protested and whined until Brantley promised to read them two stories.
April waited until they were out of the room before she said anything. “I’m not happy about you kissing Sophie, but I understand she’s probably desperate to find a man. Any man. That’s why she used those dating sites.”
“She had one date, and it didn’t work out.” Clay was certain that if there’d been more dates, he would have heard about it. Gossip traveled faster than the speed of light in Wrangler’s Creek. “If you remember correctly, you gave me a subscription to a dating site so I guess that means you think I’m desperate, too. I’m not, by the way. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever be...desperate.”
April looked him in the eyes, and several things passed between them. Unspoken but understood. His sister was one of the few people who knew what had happened two years ago. And because she also knew that it was something he never wanted to discuss, she didn’t bring it up.
Since April still had tears in her eyes, something that twisted at him, Clay reached out and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry this upset you, but you can’t fly off the handle like that. The boys need stability. They don’t need to be moved around because their uncle kissed your husband’s ex. Plus, you need stability, because you’re pregnant.”
She pulled back, her mouth still tight. “That’s what Brantley said.”
Well then, Brantley just went up a notch in Clay’s book. A very small notch since the stability thing was common sense. “So, we’re okay?” he asked.
&
nbsp; “Are you going to kiss Sophie again?” April asked right back.
Was he? Clay wanted to say no way, but he was learning he was pretty weak when it came to Sophie.
“If I kiss her again,” he said, “just remember this stability chat we had.”
Clay would remember it, too. He’d fought hard for stability in his own life. For his sanity. And while kissing Sophie again would lead to some wonderful things, like sex, it would also lead to other things.
Like talking.
His body was all up for the sex, but talking—real talking—was out. He just wasn’t ready to let anyone get close to his “shit to forget” box. And Clay had to admit that ready might never happen.
* * *
“YOU THINK IT could mean something?” Arlo asked Clay.
Clay shrugged and looked at the lump of bedding in the center of the floor. A dirty floor, Clay observed, and it smelled exactly like Clay thought a fishing cabin would smell when it was owned by a man who seemingly never changed his overalls.
Like fish guts, piss and old motor oil.
“I was right to call you out here, huh?” Arlo went on. “Because if Billy Lee really did take a snooze here, it was without my knowing. Just don’t want to get arrested for an old friend taking a snooze.”
Yeah, Clay got that when Arlo called him and told him that Billy Lee might be at the cabin. Arlo had repeated it when Clay arrived. And even though this was Arlo’s third time mentioning an arrest, Clay wasn’t seeing anything to indicate Billy Lee had even been here.
“Though I gotta say, this isn’t the usual kind of place Billy Lee would stay,” Arlo went on. “Too small. Billy Lee’s got that closet phobia thing. Has had it since he was a kid.”
“Claustrophobia?” Clay asked. “Fear of tight spaces?” Because if it was a fear of closets, then that was a first for Clay.
“That’s right. He got it ’cause all them bigger boys in junior high used to cram him in his locker and fart on him through the vent holes.”
Great day. He was learning plenty he didn’t want to know and nothing he needed for the investigation. “Speaking of bigger boys, do teenagers ever break in here?” Clay asked him.
Those Texas Nights Page 13
