Killian (The Sons of Dusty Walker Book 3)

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Killian (The Sons of Dusty Walker Book 3) Page 10

by Holt, Desiree

“I do, but who says things can’t change? And they did. You can’t deny it.”

  “Say they did. There’s still that other thing. You know how I feel about a long-term relationship. I’m a bad bet for any woman, but especially one who has as much to offer as you. I’m trying to save you from disaster.”

  “Save me? Save me?” Anger washed over her. She was so tired of him putting himself down that way, especially over something that did not have to be true.

  “Yes. You should thank me. I’m thinking of you.”

  “What a crock of shit.” She slammed her napkin down on the table. “You are your own person, Killian. It’s not as if you have some dread hereditary disease, for heaven’s sake.”

  He glared at her. “It is hereditary. Or at least I feel like it might be.” He drained his beer and stood up to get another from the fridge.

  Even in the midst of her anger, Lexie couldn’t help admiring the fine shape of his ass beneath the towel or the broad muscular back. What a waste of an incredible man if he let his opinion of his heritage destroy his life.

  “So, you’re never going to fall in love?” she demanded. “Never get married? Do you know how stupid that sounds?”

  “It’s not stupid at all. It’s the truth.” He uncapped the beer and took a long drink straight from the bottle. “What if I took a chance, and I was right? Someone like you can’t imagine what it would be like to make a mistake in a personal relationship.”

  Enough.

  “Is that so? Someone like me? Well, I made a monumental mistake, and I’ve regretted it ever since.”

  “Like what?” he challenged.

  “I went to art school in Savannah. Yes, art school,” she repeated, when she saw his expression of skepticism. “Even people in Red Creek can love the arts.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Oh, yes, you did. I saw it on your face. See? See what happens when you make assumptions?” She swallowed some of her wine. “So I met someone in art school, a very talented painter. His name was Rick.”

  “Let me guess.” His mouth twisted in a grimace. “The two of you fell in love.”

  “At least one of us did,” she snapped. “But he had an ulterior motive. I was in line for a prestigious award and the possibility of my own show. He made me feel so special about it, encouraged me, told me he was so happy for me.” She snorted. It had been a big fat lie.

  “What happened?”

  “Rick came from a very wealthy family. I learned afterwards he bought off two of the judges, including the gallery owner. My two closest friends, the ones who told me to dump him from the beginning, told me to fight for myself, but I didn’t have the heart.”

  He scowled. “And Rick? What did he do or say?”

  “Oh, he was all consoling and everything. Said he knew I really deserved it. But I knew he was lying. And it didn’t take more than a couple of days before he wasn’t even hanging around anymore.” She dashed a hand at her eyes again. “Can you imagine what a fool I felt like?”

  He stared at her. “So, you packed up and came home? Why didn’t you stay and fight for yourself?”

  “Why aren’t you staying and fighting for the person I know you are?” She drained her wine. “I know we haven’t been together very long, but you can’t deny there’s something special between us. You know, you can raise horses anywhere. Even here in Red Creek.”

  His mouth tightened in anger. “Who told you? I only said I had no plans to stay.”

  “That’s not important. Just someone concerned maybe you were going to throw your life away. Horses aren’t much company on a cold night. Don’t you want to find out what we’ve really got?”

  “I know what we’ve got. At least what I’ve got. A bad family history. Anyway, speak for yourself. You ran home and left your art behind. Why aren’t you still painting if you’ve got that kind of talent?”

  She jumped up from her seat and grabbed his hand. “Come with me.”

  “What’s going on? Come with you where?”

  “Shut up.” She was going to be sorry, but she was too angry to let it go. She opened the door to her studio room and threw up her arm in a sweeping gesture. “Here. Come take a look. I haven’t walked away from it. I’m trying to reclaim it.” She flipped on the light.

  He walked into the room, looked around, and stopped, a stunned expression on his face.

  Uh-oh. She had totally forgotten the portrait on the easel. She should have covered it, but she hadn’t planned to bring anyone in here.

  “That’s me.” His voice was filled with awe and amazement. “You painted me.”

  Lexie blew out a breath. Okay, in for a penny, in for a pound.

  “Yes, I painted you. I painted the man I saw. The one I see right now. Look at him. Does he seem like someone who would cheat on his wife? Who’d be the kind of person you think you’re going to turn into? I’ll bet if I asked people who know you, maybe even your mama, they’d tell me they see the same person I do. Someone who’s good and kind and smart and faithful.”

  Killian kept staring.

  “Maybe you were brought here for a reason, however you got here. Maybe we were supposed to meet. And maybe this is the best place for you to raise your horses. Why can’t you give it a chance?”

  Still, he said nothing.

  “I painted you as I see you, Killian, strong and caring, and brave and honest. I saw you with an artist’s eyes. Why can’t you see the same things in yourself and get rid of this ridiculous notion about genes?”

  “You painted all the artwork in Heart Starter.” Shock was evident in his voice. “You should try for another gallery showing.”

  “I paint now for myself,” she told him. “That’s all I need to be happy. What about you? Have you figured out yet what will make you happy?”

  She waited, holding her breath, to see what he’d do. When he walked out of the room and headed to the bedroom where he picked up his clothes, she knew she’d lost.

  “Damn you,” she said. “Just damn you to hell. Go on. Live your miserable life. Hide away with your horses so you don’t have to be with people. Be sure to tell your mother you aren’t the son she thought she raised.” She waved her arm at the front door. “Go on, go. Get the hell out of here. Next time, I’ll find someone who really appreciates me.”

  He stood in the bedroom, dressed except for his shirt. “Lexie.” He looked at her helplessly. “I never wanted to hurt you. You have to know that.”

  “I know you’re a spineless coward, so maybe I don’t want you after all. Go on. Out. Right now.”

  He was still struggling into his shirt when she pushed him out the door. Looking around the room, she spotted the flowers sitting on the little table where she’d placed them. Impulsively, she picked up the vase, opened the door and threw them, vase and all, down the stairs. They landed in the alley with a satisfying crash. Then she sat on the landing, still dressed only in a towel, and let the tears come.

  Chapter Seven

  Killian didn’t remember the last time he’d been so miserable. When he’d left Lexie’s, he’d felt worse than garbage, so upset with himself he didn’t think he’d feel better any time soon. He drove around for a long time, not thinking, just trying to get his head on straight. Lexie’s excellent dinner sat like lead in his stomach, much as the whole situation lodged like a rifle bullet in his brain.

  How had he let this happen? All he’d wanted was to get into Red Creek, do his week of servitude, and get the hell out. There was nothing here for him, he’d told himself. And certainly it was no place for him to pursue his dream.

  But then he’d walked into Heart Starter, and his brain took a vacation. Lexie Choate slammed into him with the force of a tornado. He felt like Dorothy must have in the classic movie, The Wizard of Oz. Unfortunately, he didn’t have red boots, and when he clicked his heels, all that happened was the sound of the heels hitting each other. He’d done his best to keep in mind the object of this charade—getting the money to start his ranch to
raise Appaloosas. Red Creek wasn’t even on his personal map.

  Then, of course, there was his belief Dusty’s genes made him an unsuitable partner for any woman. He couldn’t seem to get his mind around the whole situation. How could this man have said he loved four women? How could he keep them all secret from each other and his wife? Out and out lie to everyone? What did he think his sons would think when the cat was finally out of the bag and they all met for the first time? Did he have any idea of the shock it would cause?

  Killian hadn’t been prepared for Lexie Choate, either. If he was real honest with himself—and he figured it was finally time he was—he’d probably fallen in love with her the minute he’d laid eyes on her. She’d not only taken his breath away, she’d captured his heart. All the bullshit about enjoying each other for a week, having a good time until he left, and then good-bye with no hard feelings? That was exactly what it was—bullshit. He hadn’t been fooling anyone but himself.

  Still, she’d agreed to it, right? He had laid it all out for her, and she’d been fine with it. She’d said so. If tonight hadn’t been so intense, if what she really felt hadn’t slipped out of her mouth unintentionally, would he have enjoyed her for the rest of the week then headed off—even though now he was sure he’d have a hole in his heart? So which way was he worse off—taking a chance on something sure to end in disaster or running away from it and playing it safe, never knowing what he might have had?

  An image of Lexie flashed across his brain, naked beneath him, bound and pliant, offering herself to him without restraint. When they’d climaxed together tonight, even an idiot would have realized it was more than just sex. They’d touched each other deep inside, a feeling he could only describe as…love. Could you fall in love with someone so quickly? She had already been badly hurt once. Could he take the chance he’d do the same thing to her?

  He thought about the portrait she was painting of him, the way she’d captured him. She’d painted him with strength in his face and compassion in his eyes. He was stunned she saw him that way when he didn’t see himself like that. She had obviously found things deep in his soul he didn’t know were there.

  She had painted them in all her work. As he recalled the ones he’d seen, he realized she had an incredible talent going to waste because of some idiot. If he, Killian, was stronger and smarter, he could help her move beyond her anguish and feeling of betrayal and share her talent with the world. Of course, he couldn’t coax her to take a chance when he was such a coward himself.

  The more he drove and tumbled his thoughts, the more confused he became. When he realized the sun was peeking over the horizon, he finally headed back to the house. Lou and Marliss would be up, ready to put him through an interrogation. What in hell could he tell them? That he and Lexie had agreed to play house for the week and then part as friends?

  Dumbass!

  He realized now how he’d felt about her from the minute he’d laid eyes on her. It had been too fucking stupid of him to think that could work.

  He smacked the steering wheel hard.

  Jackass!

  He never should have come to Red Creek to begin with. Should have told his mother he wanted nothing from someone like Dusty, left it all to the other three sons, and stayed in Montana still dreaming about raising his own horses.

  He crested a small hill, pulled over to the side, and stopped, just staring at everything. For the first time since he’d arrived, he took a real good look at the sight. The house, a massive structure of stone and wood, stood on a small rise surrounded by acres of hills and pastures, with an unimpeded view of Osprey Lake. It was easy to imagine cattle roaming over the fertile land, or a herd of horses.

  Could he ever see himself living here instead of Montana? Would he be haunted by Dusty’s ghost and the things he’d done? But, damn, this was gorgeous land. Truth to tell, Red Creek was about the size of his hometown in Montana. He liked the closeness of the people, the friendly and familiar environment.

  Then there was the question of whether he could work at all for D. Walker Minerals. He’d loved his side trips with Dusty, and the overnight to Georgia had gotten his blood flowing again. Maybe it was possible to do both—raise horses and hunt for mineral leases. The company had good specialists and worked with top geologists. It wasn’t as if he had to live in the office. A good balance could give him everything, including his horses.

  Of course, he might have already blown the whole thing, as idiotic as he was.

  He should drive on up to the house, go in and shower and change his clothes, and hope Lou would fix one of his special breakfasts—after he and Marliss finished giving Killian the third degree, of course. Then they might ask him to pack up his gear and get his ass out of town for good.

  He groaned and banged his hand on the steering wheel again. It really should be his head.

  He wished his mama was there for him to talk to. She’d slap him upside the head then give him words of wisdom that would set him on the right path. He looked at his watch. In Montana, it was only five o’clock. He’d probably be in trouble, but he had to make this call. Not even Lou and Marliss could give him the words he needed right now.

  He punched the speed dial for his mother then tapped his fingers on his thigh while he waited for the call to be answered.

  “Killian?” His mother’s voice sounded as if she’d just woken from a dead sleep, which she probably had “This better be some kind of emergency.”

  “Hey, Mama.” He pulled out his best soothing tone.

  “Don’t you hey Mama me. You don’t answer any of my calls then you wake me up at dawn? What’s going on there in Kansas? Are you in a jam?

  He sighed heavily. “You might could say that. Yes, I am in a spot of trouble.” He swallowed. “Actually, more than a spot. Maybe a whole river.”

  “Oh, Killian.” Her sigh was even louder than his. Let me get a cup of coffee so I can wake up my brain. Then you can tell me how you’ve made a mess of things.”

  He waited impatiently until she picked up the phone again and told him she was ready. It took him a while, and he wasn’t sure he was coherent at all times. His mother listened without interrupting until he got it all out. When he finished, he blew out a breath and waited for her to tell him he was full of shit. What she said hurt him even more.

  “Killian.” Her voice actually sounded sad. “I can’t tell you how disappointed in you I am.”

  “Oh, Mama, you know I hate hearing that.”

  “Too bad,” she said. “It’s the truth. I thought I gave you a good picture of the kind of man Dusty was, of his good qualities and why I fell in love with him. I tried to get you to remember what a good dad he was when he was with you.”

  “Yeah,” he said bitterly, “when he was with me. I was one of many.”

  “You stop that,” she snapped. “He may not have gone about things the right way, but he took good care of all of us. Now that he’s gone, he’s left you all a legacy and the means to bond as a family.”

  “You really think it’s possible?” he asked, skeptical about the idea.

  “You managed to agree on how to meet the terms of the will, didn’t you?”

  That was certainly true, although the meeting hadn’t exactly been friendly.

  “And thinking flawed genes will make you a bad lover or husband is plain idiotic,” she went on. “If you turned out to be half the man he was, I’d be prouder than proud. Take a look at the real man, Killian. Get off your high horse.”

  Well. This was certainly not what he’d expected.

  “Look at the mess you’ve made of things with the woman you’ve met there. Do you think Dusty would be proud of the way you handled that? He’d tan your hide, big as you are. Forget about everything else. Dusty respected his women and wasn’t afraid to take chances with us.” She gave a soft laugh. “He made all our lives richer and fuller.”

  Killian tried to get his mind around the idea that if his mother could feel the way she did about Dusty, how coul
d he do any less? Mairi Walker wasn’t an idiot. She knew the reality of the situation. Still, she loved and defended the man, so maybe he was ignoring all the good. Letting his anger take center stage. Could he get past that?

  “Tell me more about your beautiful young lady, son. It sounds like you’ve screwed things up pretty bad there.”

  Killian closed his eyes as he talked about Lexie, again seeing her naked beneath him, skin flushed rosy, eyes flashing, body soft and wet and ready for him. He thought about her across from him at dinner, relaxed and laughing and talking. He thought about the first time he saw her and the way the earth had stood still. And he thought about the painting of him she was doing, and the way she’d seen right into the heart of him.

  What a fool he was. What an asshole. An idiot. And a few other names he could call himself. His mother was right. He’d been looking at things all wrong, letting his own selfish anger take over. If he could do it, he’d kick himself in the ass with both feet. Fortunately for him, his mother was doing it for him.

  “Did you get all that?” Her soft voice broke into his mental chastisement.

  “Yes, Mama, I sure did.”

  “Answer me this. Do you love her? Really love her, the way a woman deserves to be loved?”

  “I do,” he answered, and knew it was the truth the minute he said it.

  “Then you get your act together, wait at least until the sun is fully up, and go throw yourself on her mercy.” Her tone softened. “She’s lucky to get a man like you, son.”

  “Let’s hope she feels the same way. And pray she listens to me.”

  “And Killian?”

  “Yeah, Mama?”

  “I know you’ll be home next week before you go back to meet the others and wind things up. If you get this fixed, bring her with you.”

  He smiled, knowing she was itching to get her eyes on the woman who had stolen his heart.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “One more thing,” she said before he could hang up. “You don’t need to be in Montana to raise your Appaloosas. Keep an open mind.”

 

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