Texas Rebels--Paxton

by Linda Warren

  “Well, no. Even though I’m not ready to get involved with anyone, I’m still a young woman. But my whole life is centered around Annie and her future.”

  “What about your future?” He was pushing her again, but he had this need for her to look at him and see him as a man, and not just a ladies’ man.

  She placed her hand on his chest, and he felt the warmth through his shirt. “You just made my life so much better. Thank you. Now I have to get back to Houston and Annie.”

  That took him by surprise. “You’re leaving?”

  “It’s been days since I’ve seen Annie and I have to get back to her.”

  “Didn’t they ask you to stay away?”

  A tinge of pink colored her cheeks as she slipped on her jacket. “I’ll get around that.” She started walking toward the house, saying over her shoulder, “We better go. I bet Gran’s waiting on us.”

  He stared at her back. Sadie was on one side and Remi used the stick on the other as she walked. She was leaving without a backward glance. So much for his ladies’ man status. She’d opened his heart and slammed it shut faster than he could blink. He took a deep breath of cold air and let it circulate through his system. It was just as well things ended now. What he was feeling for Remi was just a result of his conflicting thoughts about his future. It had been on his mind so much and he’d reached out to her for a reason he didn’t understand just yet. But for now the “The Heartthrob” was headed back to the rodeo circuit. His heart intact.

  Chapter Six

  When Paxton reached the back gate, he’d come to terms with whatever he was feeling for Remi. He’d forgotten for a brief moment she was Ezra McCray’s daughter and that was a big stumbling block for him and the whole family. He had plans to meet friends in Houston on Saturday and it was time for him to move on and forget this little interlude.

  Remi held the gate open, holding Memphis by the collar. “If I let her out, she’ll just chase the chickens and geese and then Gran will get mad.”

  After closing the gate, he followed her inside. She was so happy she seemed to be bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  “Gran, the most amazing thing happened,” Remi said even before they could get inside the back door.

  Miss Bertie turned from the sink. “Where have you two been? I’ve been calling and calling.”

  “We were talking.”

  “You were talking and couldn’t hear me hollering?”

  “We were down by the pond watching the geese.” Remi waved a hand. “Listen, Gran, I have something to tell you.”

  Miss Bertie placed her hands on her hips. “Something amazing, you said.”

  “I fell...”

  “Oh, my goodness.” Miss Bertie ran to Remi and patted her shoulders and arms. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “No.” She held up the stick. “Paxton made me this and I pushed up from the ground all by myself. Paxton didn’t help me at all, did you?” She looked at Pax.

  “No. She did it all by herself.” He removed his hat and coat.

  “I thought you could get up off the floor and were just doing strengthening and stretches.” Miss Bertie stared at Remi.

  Remi looked down at the cane in her hand. “No, Gran. I’m not quite there yet.”

  Miss Bertie hugged Remi. “Don’t you think I know that? I was just waiting for you to tell me something.”

  “I’m sorry. I just want everyone to think I’m well so it won’t affect the adoption.”

  “I’m your grandma. You can tell me anything.”

  “Thanks, Gran. But I think it’s time to go. I have to get back to Annie.”

  Miss Bertie stepped back with a frown. “You’re not going anywhere. Those people asked you to stay away so potential adoptive parents could visit with Annie and that’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to follow the rules. What do you think those nurses are going to tell CPS about you coming in when you’re not supposed to? It won’t be good and it will go against you.”

  Sighing deeply, Remi complained, “Oh, Gran. Why do you have to be so sensible?”

  Miss Bertie glanced to the table. “Sit down and let’s have lunch.” She pointed to a chair at the end of the table. “You sit there, Handsome.”

  Paxton took a seat and Remi removed her coat and sat down, some of the happiness leaving her face. It was clear how much she loved that little girl.

  On the table sat Elvis salt and pepper shakers and a napkin holder. Elvis was everywhere in this kitchen. He hadn’t noticed before. He stared at all the food—fried chicken, gravy, mashed potatoes, biscuits and green beans. A pie was cooling on the counter. He’d need a nap after eating a meal like this.

  As he buttered a biscuit, Miss Bertie eyed him. “You know, Handsome, you remind me a lot of Abe.”

  “My grandfather?”

  “Yes, sir. Old Abe was a handsome devil back in high school. All the girls chased him and he chased them right back.”

  That gave Paxton pause. Was he like his grandfather?

  “But he loved only my grandma.” For some reason he thought he should make that clear.

  “Now there’s a story. Your grandma Martha wouldn’t have anything to do with him in high school.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Martha’s daddy was a Baptist preacher and he wasn’t letting her date a wild Rebel. That’s what they called him—Wild Abe.”

  Paxton laughed. “I can believe that.” He’d heard a lot of stories about his grandma’s preacher daddy, but this was a new version. “So how did they finally get together?”

  “Well, we all graduated high school. Abe went to work on his dad’s ranch and Martha went to work at the courthouse. She still refused to have anything to do with him. Then one night there was a dance at the VFW Hall. Her daddy let her go. There’s this dance—I forget what it’s called—but all girls hold hands in a circle and the guys hold hands outside of the girls and they go around and around as the music plays. When the music stops, you have to dance with the person in front of you. That night when the music stopped, Abe stood right in front of Martha. She tried to turn away, but he grabbed her arm and started dancing. And they danced together till the day she died. I don’t know what he said to her to change her mind, but you know Abe has a lot of charm.” She nodded at Paxton. “Like you.”

  He took a bite of biscuit and mulled over what Miss Bertie had said. Maybe he was like his grandfather. Grandpa had been a ladies’ man. He’d heard that story many times. And he’d found a woman to love. A once-in-a-lifetime love. Maybe there was hope for Paxton, too.

  Very little was said after that. Miss Bertie talked about the cow, and Remi moved her potatoes around her plate with a fork.

  Miss Bertie tapped her fork against Remi’s plate. “Eat. Put some meat on those bones.”

  Remi flushed. “Gran, you don’t have to keep telling me I’m thin. I’ve already been told that.” She glanced at Paxton with a lifted eyebrow.

  He did what every cowboy would do when he was backed into a corner. He winked.

  Remi threw a green bean at him. He caught it deftly and popped it into his mouth. Her jaw dropped opened.

  Miss Bertie slapped her hand on the table. “Stop it. This is the dinner table. Behave yourselves.” Both Remi and Paxton could hardly contain their laughter. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this good inside. It usually required a lot of Jack Daniel’s.

  Getting to her feet, Miss Bertie said, “Clear the table, Remi, and I’ll get the pie.”

  As Remi carried dishes to the sink, Miss Bertie stepped closer to him and whispered, “So that’s the look, huh? I got it now.”

  “Uh... Um...”

  Before he could find a suitable response, a knock sounded at the door. Miss Bertie set the pie on the table and went to answer it.

>   “What are you doing on my property?” The angry voice had Remi and Paxton rushing into the living room. Ira McCray and Ruger McCray, Remi’s uncle and brother, stood just inside the door. In the worn jeans and Western shirts, they had unshaved faces and an unkempt appearance. Remi’s brother had always been a little strange, a kind of recluse. He rarely went into town, but occasionally he’d go with his cousins to Rowdy’s Beer Joint. He was the type of guy who could wear out a psychiatrist’s couch.

  Ira pointed a finger at Remi. “Tell her to stop calling Ruger. She only upsets him.”

  Miss Bertie looked at Ruger. “Did you lose your tongue? Why does your uncle have to speak for you?”

  “That’s none of your business, you crazy old woman.” Ira answered instead of Ruger. “Just tell her to stop calling.”

  Miss Bertie stepped aside. “Tell her yourself.”

  Ira stiffened his shoulders and spoke to Remi. “Leave Ruger alone and go back to that whore of a mother of yours.”

  Remi’s eyes narrowed. “I have a right to speak to my brother and I do not appreciate you calling my mother names.”

  As Remi spoke, Miss Bertie went into the kitchen and came back with the shotgun in her hands. She pointed it at Ira. “Nobody calls my daughter a whore,” she spat. “Say a prayer, Ira, you’re about to meet your Maker.”

  At first Paxton was frozen in disbelief, but he knew Miss Bertie was dead serious. He reached over and grabbed the shotgun as Miss Bertie pulled the trigger. It sounded like a cannon going off in his head. The buckshot fired at the ceiling, and Sheetrock dust rained down on them. Remi screamed, her hands over her mouth. Ira and Ruger stood paralyzed in fear. That was the first thing Paxton noticed. They both were afraid of what Paxton might do with the gun.

  He held the power. That was evident by their glazed-over eyes. It was an old-time double-barrel shotgun with two triggers. Both barrels were empty. Miss Bertie had used one shell to get the calves in the trailer and the other she’d fired at the ceiling. But Ira didn’t know that.

  Paxton pulled the hammer back on an empty barrel. The click echoed loudly through the room. He held the gun in his hand, his finger on the trigger. For years Paxton and his brothers had put up with the McCrays and their attitude, but today Paxton had something to say. And he was going to say it.

  “Go ahead fire the gun,” Ira said, his throat muscles working overtime. “That’s all your family knows how to do. You’re a bunch of cold-blooded killers.”

  Anger simmered through Paxton, but he kept his cool. He still held the power and he felt it all the way to his toes. “Mr. McCray.” He looked directly at the man. “You don’t mind if I call you that, do you? I was taught to respect my elders.”

  Ira remained silent.

  He pointed the gun toward the ceiling and not directly at the man. “I’m going to tell you the truth about what happened all those years ago. Your brother, Ezra, tried to kill two little boys. They were five and six years old. When my father saw his children lying on the ground bleeding, he jumped over the fence and saw Ezra astride a horse with a rifle in his hands. Ezra lowered the rifle to shoot again, but my dad was faster. He fired first. You know, the fastest draw. Just like in the Old West. That’s why the grand jury no billed my father for the death of your brother.”

  Ira and Ruger still remained silent.

  “Now if I lowered this gun and fired at you, that would be cold-blooded murder. But defending yourself and your children is not, Mr. McCray. You’ve been trying to avenge your brother’s death all these years, but you should be trying to come to terms with the fact that your brother had it in him to try to kill two little boys.”

  “Pull the trigger,” Miss Bertie whispered.

  Paxton lowered the gun toward the floor. “I’m not a killer and neither was my father, Mr. McCray. And if I were you, I would ease out that door and never come back.” He looked at Ruger. “Whatever you do is up to you. Your sister would appreciate a few moments with you, though.”

  Ira grabbed Ruger by the arm and dragged him through the door.

  “No,” Remi shouted, running to the door. “Ruger, please, stay for a few minutes just to talk. We’re brother and sister.”

  “Leave me alone,” Ruger muttered lowly, his head bent.

  “Ruger,” Remi called.

  Paxton gently took her arm and pulled her back into the room and closed the door. “He doesn’t want to talk to you, Remi. You have to accept that.”

  She turned on him. “Stop interfering in my life and my business. It doesn’t concern you. Please go away and leave me alone.” She disappeared through a hallway door.

  Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his hair. Remi was right. This was none of his business and he should’ve stayed out of it. Her words hurt, but he was a big boy, and it was time for him to go home.

  Miss Bertie glared at him. “Why didn’t you shoot him?”

  “Both barrels were empty.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot to reload.”

  “And you just don’t go around killing people.” He held up the gun. “You need to get rid of this thing.”

  Miss Bertie snorted. “I’ll tell you a secret. My eyesight is not what it used to be and if I had pulled the trigger I’d probably have blown a hole in the wall and scared the daylights out of Ira. But then again I might’ve been dead-on. I really didn’t care. No one calls my daughter that.”

  “Miss Bertie, if you shoot someone, the sheriff is going to arrest you. Is that what you want Remi to see?”

  Looking up at the ceiling, she said, “Look what you did.” She completely ignored his response.

  “You did,” he corrected. “You pulled the trigger.”

  “Oranges and apples.” She waved a hand to dismiss the whole thing. “I have to check on my girl.”

  As Miss Bertie walked to the hall, Paxton noticed a closet. He opened it and put the gun behind some old coats. He hoped she never found it. In the kitchen, he slipped on his jacket and placed his hat on his head. Turning for the back door, Miss Bertie walked in.

  “Wait.”

  He turned back. He wasn’t in the mood for more drama.

  She pulled a five-dollar bill out of her shirt pocket and handed it to him. “For your gas.”

  He was tired of playing this little game, too. “Miss Bertie, I don’t want your money. It was neighbor helping neighbor.”

  “That’s what Quincy told me when he first started helping me after Edgar died. But I don’t want charity. I pay my way.”

  Paxton took a deep breath. “It’s not charity. You cooked a great meal for lunch. That’s my payment. I would have eaten a sandwich if I had been home. So consider it paid in full.”

  She glanced at the table with the pie on it. “Oh, you didn’t get dessert.”

  Paxton held up a hand. “No, that’s fine. I really don’t want any dessert.”

  As usual, Miss Bertie wasn’t listening to anything he said. She cut a slice of pie and placed it on a plate and then she brought the rest of it to him. “Take this. I saved a piece for Remi.” She handed it to him, and he had no option other than to take it. “Don’t worry about the plate. Just give it to your mom and she’ll bring it back to me.”

  At a loss for words, he said what anyone would say. “Thank you.” Once again, he turned toward the door and stopped. “Miss Bertie, you can call Rusty Scoggins and he’ll fix your ceiling and roof. He’ll do it at a reasonable price.”

  “Yeah, I think rain is in the forecast.” Miss Bertie eyed him. “You know she’s really not mad at you. It’s Ruger. She just took it out on you.”

  “I don’t know. It kind of felt like she was mad at me.”

  “Nah. She didn’t mean what she said. I know my girl.”

  Paxton nodded and went out the door, feeling a sense of relief. And disappointment. M
iss Bertie was wrong. He’d somehow managed to hurt Remi once again. But he wasn’t going to dwell on it because the gulf between them just got wider.

  He placed the pie on the passenger seat and loaded his horse. When he crossed the cattle guard, he knew he wasn’t coming back. His good deeds were over. Maybe he was who he was and he should stop trying to be someone else. The ladies’ man. The heartthrob. The charmer. That was who he was. Change was just too hard. Welcome back, Pax.

  * * *

  REMI SAT UP on the bed and wiped tears away with the backs of her hands. She was tired of crying. She was tired of hurting. She was tired of being angry. And she was tired of not being strong enough to stand up to everyone, especially Ruger. If he didn’t want to see her, she should let go, just like Paxton had said.

  Her mother had given up a long time ago. In truth, though, her mother really hadn’t. She just buried the pain deep inside her, not letting anyone know she was hurting for the loss of her son. But Remi kept holding on, hoping for a connection with her sibling. Today she realized that wasn’t going to happen. Ruger was controlled by Ira and that wasn’t going to change. She should have learned that after all these years.

  Ruger’s appearance shocked her. He’d put on weight since the last time she’d seen him, which had been four years. She had called so many times, but he would never answer. His hair and beard were scraggly and he looked as if he hadn’t had a bath in days. Clearly, his life was miserable, but he wouldn’t let her help him. Nor would he let his mother. It was so sad.

  Sadie laid her head in Remi’s lap, and Remi stroked her, feeling the calm after a storm. She’d gotten so angry and she had taken her anger out on Paxton. He’d been so nice to her and she would have to apologize.

  She found he was easy to talk to and she’d rambled on and on about her life, something she never did. Since the accident, she didn’t like to talk about it, but today she couldn’t seem to stop. And she’d told him about her deepest, darkest secret—she couldn’t have children. She still couldn’t believe she’d told him. It didn’t matter, though. After today, she would never see him again.