Cook County: Lucky in Love

by Love, Crystal-Rain

  “So, I guess you’re Bambi, the deer with the chick name?”

  “Bambi was tough. King of the forest, if you recall.” Chance slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Thumper. There’s something I want you to see.”

  “Thumper?” He followed his brother as he started to round the cattle pen.

  “You could be Flower if you want.”

  “Lord have mercy. That woman’s done stole your man card and fried your brain—what little of it you had to begin with.”

  Chance only smiled as they continued walking around the pen toward the direction of the bunkhouse. The building, which housed the ranch hands who worked the property, had been empty for the past few years after Mark Calhoun had married a money-grubbing wench who’d taken him for nearly every last dollar. Left to his daughter, Kenzie, the ranch had suffered over the past two years since his death, but now Chance was taking control of operations, rebuilding the ranch to its former glory.

  One of the newly hired hands nodded at them as he stepped out of the bunkhouse and ran off to do whatever task he’d been assigned.

  “Didn’t you say you were buying some more cattle?” Lucky asked as they continued past the bunkhouse.

  “Yeah, at the auction this weekend. We have to get the size of the herd up, so I’m going to buy another bull and some cows. Once they breed, we should be in good shape. Come the next couple of years, we’ll be doing excellent.”

  “Kenzie already has a bull. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind servicing the ladies,” he commented. He knew Chance wanted to use the money he’d originally saved for a small ranch of his own to help bring the Calhoun ranch back to what it used to be, but good bulls were costly, and one really could do the job.

  “Old Henry is getting up in years. This might just be his last round at breeding. I figure it’s best to get a younger one now.” Chance stopped and spread his hands. “What do you see, Luck?”

  He looked around, seeing green. Lots of green. “Uh, I see grass.”

  “Is that all?”

  Lucky swiveled his head left to right, trying to pinpoint whatever it was his brother was trying to show him, but all he saw was a big stretch of land between the bunkhouse and the old cabin he knew was farther back on the property. “Pretty much. What am I supposed to be seeing?”

  Chance’s mouth curved up at the corner. “A stable and a big paddock.”

  “You’re moving Kenzie’s horses out of the old barn?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess I could so they have more room to maneuver, but this particular area will mostly be used for breeding cutting horses.”

  “Breeding…” Lucky narrowed his eyes at his brother. “What do you know about breeding horses, cattleman?”

  “Not much.” He continued looking forward. “Good thing I have a brother who does.”

  Lucky didn’t miss the glint in his eye. “This ranch has always been about cattle. Why add horses now?”

  Chance shrugged. “Why not? There’s plenty of land to allow breeding of both, and it makes good business sense.”

  “Kenzie knows of your idea?”

  “Yes. She’s fine with it.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “She’s pretty much just turned management of the ranch over to me.”

  Lucky turned away and started toward the direction of the old cabin. “The love shack still back here?”

  “Yeah, but it needs some work to be livable.”

  “I don’t recall it being used for a home.” He grinned. He’d worked the Calhoun ranch for a short stretch during his youth and had used the love shack himself. The cabin served as a nice little place to take a date for a little fun between the sheets. A red bandanna on the door warned other ranch hands it was in use. “I still can’t believe Kenzie never torched the place. She must have never known what went on in the cabin, or that you often used it.”

  “I told her there were snakes out this way. Big, nasty ones full of poison.”

  Lucky chuckled, recalling the young girl’s crush on his older brother. She’d been head over heels from the start, but with a ten year age difference, the little girl had been forced to suffer as Chance dated women of his own age. She won out in the end though, having grown into a beautiful woman and finally snagging her man.

  “Does she know about the love shack now?”

  “Hell no.”

  Lucky laughed out loud. “Whipped.”

  “If I’m whipped, I’m not complaining.”

  They reached the cabin, and he was surprised to see a window pane busted out and the roof sagging under the weight of a huge branch that had fallen on it some time ago. “I guess no one’s going to be getting lucky in there anytime soon.”

  “I don’t know about that. Shouldn’t take you long to fix it and move in.”

  He whirled around. “Move in?”

  “Yep. It makes sense to live on the ranch if you’re going to be here breeding horses.”

  “You just have everything figured out, don’t you?” Lucky’s tone came out sharp, and from the look in Chance’s eyes, he knew his brother had picked up on it.

  “Do you have a problem with the idea? I thought you’d be glad to be offered such an opportunity.”

  “Why, because I couldn’t earn it on my own?” He turned away from the love shack and barreled back the way they’d come. “I’m thirty-four years old, Chance. It’s time to quit babying me.”

  “How am I doing that?” his brother asked as he caught up to him. “I want to breed horses, and I just happen to have a brother who’d be a great man for the job. Of course I’m going to offer you the opportunity before I’d even think of anyone else.”

  “You’ve created the job as a way to watch over me,” Lucky challenged as they reached the area he planned to use for his horse breeding venture. “Poor Lucky, he gambles away all his money and he’s getting too old. He can’t ride the circuit much longer. He’ll never get out of that trailer park.”

  “I’ve never thought that.”

  He stopped and raised an eyebrow at his older brother. “Never?”

  Chance had the grace to look away. “You gotta admit, you’ve had some rotten luck, bro.”

  Yeah, he’d found two dead women in the space of three months, the second one being his mother. “Skill beats out luck,” he said calmly despite the anger roiling in his gut. “It’s skill that’ll get me some fat purses this season. I can get myself out of the trailer park, if I want to leave it.”

  “Don’t you?” Chance eyed him, his gaze full of incredulity. “The place isn’t exactly a happy part of memory lane. There’s not a single inch of it that doesn’t have some awful memory etched into it, whether it be a beating by the hand of one of Mom’s boyfriends, or a place she passed out after too much booze. Not to mention…”

  His voice trailed off, but Lucky knew what he’d been about to refer to. “The bedroom where Mom shot up her last set of drugs. You don’t need to remind me. I’m the one who was there to find her.”

  “And you’re never going to let me forget it, are you?” Chance lifted his Stetson long enough to thrust a hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Mom died. Okay? I’ve said it a hundred times. I don’t know what else I can do.”

  “Buying me a job and home isn’t the solution,” Lucky snapped, then heaved out a calming sigh. Now he felt bad. It wasn’t his brother’s fault their mother was a drug addict or that she’d killed herself. And it definitely wasn’t his fault Lucky had picked up a wacko who also offed herself three months earlier. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this attitude. I’m just… I’ve got some stuff to work through. In the meantime, I don’t know about this horse breeding idea.”

  Chance nodded, jaw set. He definitely wasn’t happy.

  “Fine, but at least think about it. I really want to do this, but I don’t know enough about breeding quality horses, and my hands will be full with the cattle. I’d rather have someone I can trust to do a great job than just anyone off the street.”

&n
bsp; “I can understand that.” Lucky glanced back over the land. “When are you going to start building?”

  “Today. That’s why I went ahead and hired in a full crew of ranch hands despite the herd not being very large. I have quite a bit of improvements planned, and I want them done as quickly as possible.”

  “I’ll think about the offer, but don’t get your hopes up.” Lucky turned away and they walked together toward the main house. “When is this fitting Kenzie scheduled for me?”

  “She set it up with Bernie over at the boutique. She said you can go in any time today.”

  He groaned. “That’s a total chick store, you know. You’ll owe me.”

  “So, you’re going to be my best man?”

  “No, I’m just going to try on the damn monkey suit because it makes me feel all hot and tingly to wear one.”

  Chance laughed out loud.

  Lucky shook his head in disgust. Damned if he’d ever go through all this fuss to please a woman. He was perfectly content staying a blue jeans-clad bachelor.

  Chapter Three

  Lucky stepped into the darkened interior of Hell’s Belle. He smelled of aftershave, a touch of cologne, and spearmint breath spray. Not that he was planning on kissing anyone. Nope. His poisoned lips were staying far away from Cook County’s female population. He was only here because there was no place else for him to go, and he’d had his fill of time spent alone.

  Ladies night at Hell’s Belle always guaranteed a full house, particularly since there wasn’t much else to do on a Thursday night in the small community. As Lucky scanned the room, his gaze fell on several women he knew, some more intimately than others, and a healthy amount of men out prowling for a one-nighter. There had been a time not long ago when he would have been the most predatory one of all, but he’d learned his lesson. There would be no coaxing the ladies into his arms and his bed, no matter how good some of them looked in their tight jeans and short skirts.

  “Well, damn. I thought you might be done drinking your troubles away when you didn’t show up here for a few days,” Rhoda, the busty, plus-sized bartender, said with a sigh as Lucky lowered himself onto a stool in front of the spot she was wiping down. “That or you’d ended up in a ditch somewhere after leaving here wasted.”

  “I’d think you’d enjoy having regular customers as long as they pay.”

  “Not if they pay with their life.” Rho looked at him pointedly.

  Her eyes were tired and a sheen of sweat had her bangs sticking to her forehead, and the neck of her gray T-shirt wet. It was clear the night had been busy and she wasn’t in the mood for Lucky’s usual smart-assed joviality.

  “Some man came by yesterday, asking if I knew a Lucky Masters.”

  He groaned inwardly. The last time someone had been asking for him around town, it had been Sylvia Case’s sister. She’d actually told him she didn’t hold him liable for her sister’s death, but if the past had taught him anything, good luck didn’t last long. “What’d he want?”

  “How would I know? I don’t meddle in people’s business.”

  Lucky arched an eyebrow, earning a smack from Rho’s rag. He couldn’t help but laugh. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

  “What do ya want, smarty pants?”

  “I’ll have a Coke.”

  This earned him a rare smile from Rho.

  “I’ll be paying for that,” a soft, sultry voice breezed past him as the woman who’d been occupying his mind entirely too much lately slid onto the stool next to him.

  “It’s ladies night, so you can’t say no to me. Right?”

  Hell. “Make that a whiskey.”

  Rho’s smile quickly transformed into a deep scowl, but she made the drink, asking Cammie what she wanted and filling her order as well. “Watch this one,” Rho warned her before walking away toward the other end of the bar where she was being flagged.

  “Hmm. Should I be wary of you?” the feisty little brunette asked, twirling the girly umbrella in her drink.

  Lucky spared her a glance before taking a swallow of his whiskey, needing the liquid courage to stay seated. The woman had somehow managed to pour herself into a tight, red, V-neck T-shirt, snug jeans and red fuck-me heels that made him want to do just that. If anyone should be wary, it ought to be him. The last time he’d taken a woman to bed, she’d died the next morning. And she hadn’t been nearly as innocent as this one.

  Lucky tapped his shot glass on the bar top, meeting Rho’s scowl with one of his own as she refilled it.

  Cammie tossed a wad of bills on the bar and huffed. “Sorry I bothered you. Enjoy your evening.”

  “Stay,” he heard himself say, the disappointment in her tone gnawing at his gut. He didn’t want to hurt her in any way, and that went for her feelings as well. He’d just have to be mindful not to be too nice and allow crazy ideas to take root in Cammie’s pretty little head.

  “I don’t want to be a bother,” she said as she slowly took a seat on the stool next to his, her voice holding a note of sorrow that gripped Lucky’s insides.

  It was then that he noticed her usually bright hazel eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. His gut twisted as he wondered what had happened to cause her such evident distress, especially as he recalled he had never seen her in this bar before. To his knowledge, Cammie May wasn’t a drinker. Then he remembered Delia’s barb about her finding her boyfriend with another woman.

  “You’re no bother, Cammie, and no man stupid enough to cheat on you is worth drinking and crying over.”

  She looked up, eyes wide in surprise, before offering a slight shake of her head. “I’m not drowning my sorrows in alcohol over a man, Luck. There are far worse things in the world than spineless liars.”

  “Uh-oh, sounds serious,” he murmured, drawn in to the woman’s problems despite warning signals flaring in his brain. This wasn’t the way to stay unattached and distant, but he couldn’t help himself. Cammie May was sad, and he wanted that to stop immediately. “What’s wrong, little one?”

  The corners of her mouth turned upward, almost forming a smile for the briefest of moments before a tiny sigh escaped her smooth, extremely enticing lips. “It’s been years since you’ve called me that. It drove me nuts when I was a kid, but grew on me as I got older. It kind of made me feel special having my own little nickname from the great Lucky Masters.”

  He snorted. “Great? I don’t think so. I was just a ranch hand and a bronc buster. Nothing special.”

  “You were to me,” Cammie said wistfully before her cheeks bloomed pink and she lightly shook her head as if shaking out the thoughts of him from long ago.

  She focused on her drink, twirling the little umbrella while she seemed to collect her thoughts.

  “Out with it,” Lucky ordered, the silence growing uncomfortable. “Who made you cry?”

  She grinned. “Why? You going to beat him up?”

  “Maybe.” Probably.

  Cammie made a small sound in her throat that would have passed for laughter had it not been so sad. “Like I said, this isn’t about a man.”

  She twirled the little umbrella in her drink, silent for a long, tense moment.

  “I have a really good friend in trouble,” she finally continued. “She’s sick, the kind of sick that cough syrup and chicken noodle soup won’t fix.”

  He looked up sharply, his chest constricting. “Which friend?”

  Cammie’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh geez, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Kenzie’s fine, other than regular wedding jitters, I’m sure.” She shook her head as she lowered her chin into her hands. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long, trying day and my brain is a mess right now.”

  Afraid he’d made her feel worse, Lucky rubbed Cammie’s back in an effort to soothe her, but pulled his hand away after he felt her bra strap beneath the thin cotton shirt. His mind immediately went to thoughts of what the all grown up Cammie May looked like naked, and he muttered a curse beneath his breath. The woman was hurting, and he was pictur
ing her naked body in his mind. If there was an Asshole of the Year award, his name was being engraved on the plaque.

  Cammie looked up in confusion, having heard his muttering. Lucky prayed she hadn’t understood what he’d said, or why he’d said it. “I’m sorry,” he offered, unsure what he could say to make her feel better, but figuring a condolence was mandatory in these situations. “I don’t think I know this friend, but I’m sure she’s a good person.”

  Cammie sniffed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “She’s been battling her health problem for a long while, and now it’s trying to shut down her kidneys. She’s too young to die, Lucky, and she hasn’t done any of the things she planned on doing with her life.”

  Sonofabitch. Lucky downed his whiskey and banged the glass on the bar, signaling his need for another shot while damning himself for not letting Cammie walk away when he’d had the chance. The last thing he needed on his mind was a young woman dying, especially one whose death would hurt Cammie. “I’m sorry to hear that, Cam. I hope the doctors find a way to save her.”

  Lucky drummed his fingers along the bar, struggling to think of what to say. Cammie was more upset than he’d ever seen a person get over a friend, and a situation that hadn’t even happened yet.

  He returned Rho’s dark glare with one he was sure was even darker as she poured him his third drink, and he quickly swallowed it down, letting the alcohol burn in the pit of his stomach. He needed it to keep from running out on Cammie, to flee as far from this conversation as he could. He could ride a bucking bronco all day, break every bone in his body and laugh about it, but dealing with damsels in distress that he couldn’t do a damn thing to rescue was when he tucked tail and ran.

  As hurt as Cammie seemed right now, though, he couldn’t just run out on her. She’d been there to offer kind words after Delia Mayberry had insulted him at the diner this morning. He felt the need to return the favor by being the ear she needed as she talked about her friend.

  “The doctors say that she may end up having to have a kidney transplant if she doesn’t start responding to her medication better. Waiting lists are long for organs, but friends and family can be tested, so she doesn’t have to wait on a stranger’s kidney to become available. But she doesn’t really have any family, and she doesn’t know if her friends would be willing to donate a kidney to save her. She’s terrified of what will happen if it gets to that point.”