Texas Heroes: Volume 1

by Jean Brashear

  “Wow, Mitch, you lived up in that house on top of the hill? Are these your cows? Mom, look, there’s a horse and another horse and a baby—”

  Davey’s excited chatter eased the ice that held Mitch’s heart in its grip. Memories assaulted him from every direction.

  Perrie answered. “Yes, sweetie. Boone lives there now, with his wife Maddie.”

  “I wonder if he’s big like Mitch.”

  I guess we’ll find out.

  And then Mitch saw a man who had to be his brother, walking down the steps of the big white two-story house that had haunted Mitch’s dreams. He stopped the car, and Perrie squeezed his hand.

  “We’ll just wait here.”

  Mitch yanked his gaze away from his brother’s tall form, glancing at the woman who had changed his life. “No. You’re my family now. You come with me.”

  With Perrie at his side and Davey holding his hand tightly, Mitch closed the distance. His heart in his throat, he studied his brother.

  The boy had grown into a man as tall as himself, the blond hair turned a darker gold. He had the look of their father, though Mitch had Sam’s coloring. And in the blue eyes, Mitch saw the same swirl of emotion that crowded his own chest.

  “Welcome home, Mitch,” said a voice too deep to belong to his little brother. Boone broke away from the dark-haired beauty at his side and closed the distance between them.

  Perrie watched the two big men clasp hands. Then Boone pulled Mitch into a hug that brought tears to her eyes. A few feet away, a statuesque gypsy with a mass of chestnut curls smiled and wept unashamedly as she winked at Perrie.

  This must be Maddie. Perrie like her on sight.

  “Why’s everybody crying, Mom?” Davey whispered.

  “It’s a good kind of crying, sweetheart.”

  Mitch stood at the window of Boone’s office and looked out across land he’d never expected to lay eyes on again. “A sister…” He couldn’t take it in. “Our mother and Maddie’s father, before Mom married Dad?”

  “Yeah.” Boone clapped one hand to his shoulder. “You’re taking the news better than I did. I couldn’t believe Mom could ever give a child up, but she thought Dalton was dead and back in those days…”

  Mitch shook his head. “It had to just about kill her.”

  “I suspect it did.” Boone cleared his throat. “I don’t think Dad ever knew. But he found out later that Dalton was alive, and he never told Mom for fear she’d leave him. He gave Maddie this house because by rights, it should have been hers.”

  “Think Mom would have left Dad for Dalton if she’d known?”

  Boone shook his head. “I don’t think she ever would have left the two of us. And I think she honestly loved Dad.” He exhaled sharply. “But I guess we’ll never know.”

  Mitch thought of Perrie, of how she’d fought for her cub like a tigress, and suddenly he was sure. “Mom would have stayed.” He looked out the window again. “She’d be here still, if I hadn’t—”

  “That’s over, Mitch. You can’t blame yourself.”

  But he did and probably always would. Right now, he had to set something else straight. “Boone, I…” After all he’d heard about what had happened after he was gone, he owed Boone a bigger apology than he’d ever dreamed. “I’m sorry. If I’d known what would happen to you after I left…”

  “No apology needed. Dad should have handled all of it better, but Mom was everything to him. It drove him half out of his mind that their last words had been angry. He finally realized what he’d lost, but it was too late—for all of us.”

  “I can’t believe he’s gone. And I never got to—”

  “Me, either. He was already dead before I knew. But he left something for you.” Boone held out an envelope with Mitch’s name scrawled in his father’s bold hand.

  Mitch eyed it warily.

  Boone’s mouth quirked. “I know. I didn’t want to open mine, either. But it was all right.” He paused. “Want me to leave you alone?”

  Mitch shook his head. He’d been alone plenty long. He tore open the envelope and read.

  Son—

  I expect I lost the right to call you that a long time ago. It’s the biggest regret of my life. I don’t make any excuses for what I did—there aren’t any excuses for it. I loved your mother so much that I just couldn’t get past losing her, but in doing so, I lost two fine sons. I’d give everything I own to take it all back, but it’s too late for any of that. I’m dying, and all I can hope is that you’ll be found so that you’ll finally know how sorry I am.

  I hope you’ll come home one day, to the place where you should have been all these years but for an old man’s pride and stubborn blindness. I don’t know what life has done to you since that terrible night, but I hope it’s been better to you than I was.

  Your mother wouldn’t be proud of me. All Jenny ever wanted in life was to make the people she loved happy, and she did that for all of us, every day of her short life. I think they broke the mold when they made her, but if there are two women out there with hearts as big as hers, I hope you and Boone find them and get back some of what you lost.

  It was an accident, Mitch. You never would have hurt her on purpose. She would tell you to let it go. She loved you with every breath in her body. It was just one of those terrible trials that life hands us. Some of us handle them right, and some of us fail.

  I failed you, son. If it’s any consolation, I’ve paid every day since. I wronged you, and it’s my everlasting regret that I won’t live long enough to tell you in person. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I do hope someday you’ll have a son of your own and you can do right everything that I did so very wrong.

  Dad

  “Mitch?”

  At the sound of Perrie’s voice, Mitch turned from the window. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring off into the distance. He held out his arms and she came into them without hesitation.

  “Davey’s asleep. Are you all right?”

  He handed her the letter and met his brother’s gaze over her head while she read it. Boone’s eyes said that he understood. All Mitch could do was shake his head. So much loss. So much pain.

  Perrie’s golden head lifted, her blue eyes swimming with tears. She glanced back at Boone, then over at Maddie entering the room, silvery eyes sympathetic. She turned again to Mitch. “That poor man,” she sighed. “I wanted to hate him for what he did to you, but now I just feel sad for him.”

  Maddie spoke up then, snuggling against Boone as he pulled her close. “I never knew Jenny, but I feel like I did. I think I know what she’d say.” She looked around the room at each of them. “I think she’d say that love was the legacy she wanted to leave, however short or long her life was.”

  She would tell you to let it go.

  Mitch felt his throat tighten, saw a sheen in Boone’s eyes. “Love was everything to her. She handed it out like it was water, free and easy to find. Like a spring that would replenish itself, the more she gave away.” He held onto Perrie tightly. “But it takes some of us longer than others to believe that.”

  His brother nodded, then looked down at Maddie, love arcing between the two of them, so bright it filled the room.

  Mitch looked at Perrie. “I don’t know where we’ll wind up, but I know I’d like for us to start here. What would you think about getting married in Morning Star?”

  Tears trembled on her lashes as she smiled. “I think it would be perfect. Here, with the people Jenny loved so very much.”

  “Except one,” Maddie reminded.

  “But we’ll find her,” Boone insisted.

  Around the room, heads nodded solemnly and silent promises were exchanged.

  Maddie said it for all of them. “And then we’ll bring her home to Morning Star.”

  Home, Mitch thought. Wherever Perrie was would be his home now. Morning Star was just a place.

  But it was a special place, finally free of ghosts, a place where he could always return. Here, where he’d f
irst learned about love, he now felt the blessing of forgiveness, the return of bright memory instead of dark, angry pain.

  It was fitting that here he would bind to him the woman who had given him love when he’d thought himself forever alone. In this place where he’d once lost all hope of love, he would begin again. He would speak vows that he would never break: to love, honor and cherish, to guard this woman and her children with his life.

  Finally, Mitch felt free, felt the darkness, so long his companion, slip away. “I love you, Perrie,” he whispered into her honey-gold hair.

  “I love you, Mitch.” Her arms stole around his waist, clasping him tightly. “Welcome home.”

  He was home at last. Home in the arms of love.

  ~THE END~

  TEXAS BAD BOY

  Texas Heroes: The Gallaghers of Morning Star

  Book Three

  Jean Brashear

  Everyone thinks Lacey DeMille is the next thing to royalty, a society girl with beauty, brains and money—but sexy Texas bad boy Devlin Marlowe knows better. Twenty years after being exiled in disgrace for daring to want her, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks has sweet revenge in his grasp…for only he knows that her whole life is built on a lie.

  And revenge may be more costly than either of them can imagine.

  Prologue

  Houston, Texas

  Nineteen years ago

  Moonlight drifted over her skin like the kiss of a lover. Devlin’s hands weren’t quite steady as they traced Lacey’s tender curves. With a reverence he hadn’t expected to feel, he brushed his lips against hers.

  When Lacey gasped softly and tightened slender fingers in his hair, every last vestige of Dev’s desire for revenge flew away. Who her father was and how much Dev hated him didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that after this night, they would be forever changed. Forever bound.

  “Dev?” Her voice trembled as his hands had.

  “Shh, it’s all right. You’re so beautiful, Lacey.” At eighteen, his experience was not vast, but it was far greater than hers. He smiled, rewarded by the answering curve of hers, that lush, full mouth that drove him crazy.

  “You’re the one who’s beautiful.” She trailed her fingers across his chest, and Dev thought he might die of pleasure.

  “I’m a guy. I can’t be beautiful,” he protested.

  She laughed faintly. “Shows what you know. If you could see yourself the way I see you…”

  He wanted to ask what she saw, this girl who had everything, whose father kept Devlin’s family in thrall like a feudal king oppressed his serfs. But he didn’t really want to know—not tonight, when she was heaven in his arms. All that mattered tonight was that she wanted him—enough to make him her first. Her last, if he had anything to say about it.

  “Dev?”

  He paused, looking solemnly into her wide, innocent silvery eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

  He could see the pulse beating in her throat, feel the tremor of her nerves. His heart sank, but this was too important—she was too important—to rush.

  Then she smiled, and the fear vanished. “I’m only afraid because I don’t know what to do. I want it to be you, Dev. Only you.”

  His throat tightened. Lacey DeMille, the River Oaks princess, wanted Devlin Marlowe, the bad seed from the wrong side of the tracks. Dev kissed her with all the wonder he felt. Then he sat back on his heels in the moon-silvered gazebo and imprinted her on his memory for eternity—the girl he would never forget.

  Lacey reached for him, and he bent to press another kiss as his hands began to unbutton his jeans—

  “Lacey, is that you?” her father called out. “Is someone with you?”

  The magic shattered under harsh, blinding light.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Charles DeMille’s voice fractured the night, bludgeoning its beauty with jagged, angry blows.

  Lacey screamed, shrinking from the flashlight’s glare, wrapping her arms around her body.

  Dev grabbed his t-shirt and slipped it over her head. He moved in front of her to protect her.

  Her father knocked him to the ground with a roar of rage. “You worthless piece of trash—I told you to stay away from her. Who do you think you are, putting your filthy hands on my daughter?”

  Dev jumped up to defend Lacey, but she scampered away from his touch as though it were poison. He tried to catch her gaze, but she was sobbing hysterically and grasping for her clothes.

  “You can’t do this. Lacey and I—we’re in love.” Defiantly, Dev faced his nemesis.

  “Love!” Charles DeMille’s laughter was a harsh bark. “You’re not fit to lick her boots.”

  Dev waited for Lacey to speak up, to tell her father that it was true, that she loved him as he loved her, but she didn’t look at him, didn’t say a word. “Tell him, Lacey. We’re going to be together. Come with me now, tonight. I’ll take care of you, I swear I will.”

  But Lacey only looked frightened.

  Her father laughed at Dev as he had for three years, ever since the night Dev’s father had died in disgrace and everything had changed. “You can’t even take care of the family you have, can you, son? You’ll never amount to anything, and you damn sure won’t ever get near my daughter again. I’ll kill you if you try.”

  Dev stared at the ground then, his mind roaring with rage at being humiliated in front of Lacey. He’d tried to care for his family, but DeMille held all the cards.

  “Get back to the house, Lacey,” her father ordered.

  She turned away, a look on her face so wounded that Dev felt her pain himself. “Lacey…” he called out, hating himself for not being able to beat Charles DeMille, almost hating her for denying what was between them.

  And then she was gone.

  He would not show this man fear. DeMille had savaged his pride too hard, too often.

  “First thing tomorrow, you are joining the military. You’ll be on the first bus to basic training.”

  “I won’t leave her.”

  Clipped tones answered him. “If I’d known she was sneaking around to meet you, you’d already be gone. You’d better thank your lucky stars I caught you when I did.”

  Dev wanted to hurt him. “How do you know it was the first time?”

  His head snapped from the force of DeMille’s blow, but Dev stood his ground. The man leaned right in Dev’s face, smelling of expensive Scotch and smuggled Cuban cigars.

  “You will leave, or you’ll go to jail. Lacey’s underage, or hadn’t you thought about that?”

  “My family…” What would they do?

  “Maybe you should have thought about them before.” DeMille shoved a finger in his chest. “You aren’t calling the shots here, boy. I am. You won’t be much good to your family if you’re in prison. This way, you’re only gone for two years—unless you get wise and sign up for more.”

  Dev refused to drop his stare, but he knew he was defeated. DeMille had the power. Dev was afraid of what another disgrace would do to his mother. She’d been drowning herself in drink for three years. But his sisters and kid brother—what would happen to them without him?

  He summoned every ounce of strength within him and met DeMille’s stare with equal force. “I want your promise that my family won’t pay for this. They’ll pay enough, just having me gone.”

  Oddly enough, though he hated DeMille, Dev knew his word was good on this one thing. He had never understood why his father’s old boss had stepped in when their world had fallen apart—or why Dev’s mother had let him.

  Dev hated being a charity case, despised what they’d become. He resented that his mother had faith in DeMille but not in him. The family was Dev’s responsibility, not his.

  DeMille nodded sharply. “You’re the only bad apple in the bunch, Devlin. I’ll take care of them. And if you’re wise, you’ll stay gone a long time. Just write your mother so she doesn’t worry.”

  Dev would leave, because he had no choice. But i
t wouldn’t always be like this.

  He had to make certain of one more thing. Though her abandonment cut him to the bone, Dev had to know that Lacey wouldn’t suffer. “What about Lacey?”

  DeMille snorted. “I know who’s at fault here. I’ll give her everything you could never provide.”

  Dev’s pride demanded its due. “You’re wrong. I love her. I can take care of her.”

  Charles DeMille just shook his head. “Your father was headed for prison when he died. You think you’ll ever be good enough for my daughter?” He clapped Dev on the shoulder, smug that he had won. “Son, you’re nothing. You never were.”

  Then his face turned harsh again. “Now get out of here before I change my mind and call the cops.”

  Chapter One

  Present Day

  Devlin Marlowe entered the ballroom late, pausing at the entrance to survey the crush of people. Houston glitterati had turned out in force. If the women assembled had merely donated the price of their designer gowns and gleaming jewels, no auction would be needed to raise funds.

  He could afford the price of admission now, thanks to a series of shrewd investments, but beneath his skin, he still didn’t belong with these people. He might own his own tux, but inside him still lived the boy who’d barely escaped going on welfare.

  This occasion gave him a golden chance to do what he wanted: to observe Lacey DeMille at close range before she saw him.

  And he wanted that, he realized. Wanted time to assess her in the flesh. Wanted to see if there was anything left of the beautiful young girl he had wanted so badly to choose him.

  Before he tore her life apart, he wanted to find the right way to handle it. He owed it to the Gallaghers. They had become more than clients—they were friends he didn’t want to see hurt.

  But fate must be laughing up its sleeve at him. Dev sure wasn’t.

  Even though he’d done all the investigating himself, a part of him still didn’t want to believe what he’d found.