“Mackey!” Samantha cried. “Oops—sorry, Rissa.”
She shook her head and smiled. They were only kids. The colt needed to learn to deal with distractions at some point. She focused on settling him, but part of her was attuned to the man whose presence she could feel on her skin like rays of warm sunshine. His deep voice twined with the children’s chatter and squeals to make a melody all its own.
Then, without even looking, she knew he was there, right outside the fence, only a matter of feet away.
The night before rose, wild and alive and brimming with a tangle of emotions.
“He’s looking good,” Mackey said.
She kept the colt moving, turning with him. “He is.” She couldn’t keep the warmth from rising into her voice. She made herself face him. “I heard about the fire truck. That’s amazing.”
He shrugged. “I had contacts.”
“It’s an incredibly generous gesture,” she said. “A need that’s been keeping Ian up at night.”
“He seemed pretty happy about it.”
She laughed. “An understatement, I’d bet. Those things must cost the earth.”
“I’ve been lucky.”
“I suspect working very hard had more to do with it.”
Look at me, Mackey. You can trust me.
But he looked anywhere except at her.
“What time is the party, Mackey?” Samantha asked.
“Party?” He reared back in surprise.
“Mama said everyone is going to be at Ruby’s tonight to thank you.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it before words came out. He exhaled. “I don’t really—” He shook his head and glanced at Rissa helplessly. “Seriously?”
“That’s what the kids tell me. The jungle drums have been pounding.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. All but scuffed his boots in the dirt and said aw, shucks. “That’s not necessary. I’d really rather not.”
She was charmed by his discomfort. “I’m not sure you have any choice. You’re a hero.”
“I just—”
“You just made it possible for the residents of this place to sleep more soundly at night, Mackey. Two homes have been lost in the last several months, and grass fires are a constant danger this time of year. We’ve been helpless,” she said. “You just waved your magic wand and changed that.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not the good fairy.”
“Of course he’s not!” Eric cried. “He’s a guy. Guys don’t have fairy wands.”
“What’s wrong with fairy wands?” Samantha argued. “I like fairies.”
“Because they’re stupid, dorky girl stuff—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—” Mackey placed a hand on each head. “I’m not threatened by the idea of using a wand,” he said, his eyes dancing as he looked at Rissa. “Much.”
She laughed. “I can picture you with some wings. Big badass ones, though.”
“Is that a bad word?” piped Samantha.
“Yep,” nodded Mackey sagely. “I think Ms. Rissa might need a spanking.” One eyebrow arched, and the devil was alive in those green eyes.
“You can’t spank Rissa!” Eric cried out.
“I can’t?” His eyes never left Rissa’s. He had never looked less like someone to worry over.
She had to bite back a grin. “Nobody’s spanking anybody,” she said.
“Aww…” Mackey protested, standing there all gorgeous and crazy hot, stirring up memories. Stirring up her insides.
“But you two should probably go wash up before you leave.”
“Okay!” Samantha cheered. “Come on, Eric.”
He didn’t budge. “Bet I can’t come. My mom will say no.” His small shoulders sagged.
“Good. You and I can stay here,” Mackey responded.
“You can’t stay here. You’re the hero.”
“I’m not—” Mackey halted, exasperated.
“You can stay with me,” Rissa offered to Eric.
“You’re not coming?” Mackey’s eyes pierced.
She frowned. “I…”
“You have to,” he replied. “If I have to go, you have to.”
She snorted. “And exactly why would that be?” A treacherous part of her wanted him to say he needed her.
“You have to protect me.”
“What on earth from?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. I just…I wish you would.”
Not exactly a declaration, but… “Chicken.”
He grinned. “You betcha.”
“Mackey’s not afraid of anything!” Eric protested.
The man looked down. “Tell you what. Think your mom might let you go if I asked?”
Soulful eyes looked up. “I don’t know,” Eric answered honestly.
Rissa was all too aware that Mackey would be catnip to a woman who could never be without a man for long. Mackey could fend for himself, but…
Are you worried? Jealous? Seriously?
Of course she wasn’t.
Yeah, she was. “I’ll talk to her.” She and Gina weren’t best of buds, for sure, but Gina had listened to her and sent Jimbo packing. Plus she liked that Rissa freed up her time by taking Eric. That enabled her to let more lowlifes into her bed.
How Rissa wished she could do something more for that child.
“Thanks, Rissa.” The boy’s gratitude was written all over his face.
“You’re welcome.” She glanced over. “So what time does the shindig happen?”
Mackey shrugged. “Beats the hell—heck out of me. Ian just said to meet him there at six, so he could buy me supper.”
“You’d better go on, then. I’ll come later, but I’ll talk to Eric’s mom first.”
“Uh-uh,” Mackey said. “I’m not leaving without you. Eric and I will go do the evening chores while you finish up. C’mon buddy.” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder, and they turned away before she could argue.
But they were still in hearing range, so she did her best chicken cackle.
Mackey laughed and waved to her over his shoulder.
Rissa turned back to the colt. “All right, sweetie. Let’s try this again.”
Once she set the colt loose in the pasture, she climbed into her battered but trusty red pickup and drove over to Gina’s.
A shiny black truck was parked out front, one she recognized with a sinking heart.
Gina, you promised…
She parked across the street from the tiny, shabby frame house Gina rented. Her last confrontation with Jimbo Chambers fresh on her mind, she rubbed her palms on her dirty jeans and took in a deep breath. Jimbo was a pretty big guy, and he was snake-mean.
But she was out of time. Eric was so excited about the chance to be on hand to honor Mackey, and she knew from past experience that Gina didn’t always answer her phone—half the time it was disconnected because she didn’t pay her bills.
She’d barely have time to shower and change once she got back to the ranch, so…
Here goes nothing…
When she knocked, the door opened barely a crack. “What do you want?”
“Hi, Gina. Could I talk to you a second?”
Gina kept the door firmly in hand, not inviting her inside. “I guess.” She glanced behind her. “But make it quick.” Her eyes darted from side to side, and it could have been anything from drugs to fear.
“Are you okay?” Rissa asked.
Another shift of the eyes. “Just get on with it, okay?”
“I’d like to take Eric to dinner at the cafe with us tonight. Samantha and her mom are going, too. Would you like to come?”
Gina’s face pinched. “Why would I wanna do that?”
A male voice bellowed. “Who the hell is that?”
“Nobody, baby. I’ll be right there.” Her eyes bored in on Rissa. “Is that all?”
“Yes. No—are you sure you’re all right?”
“How many times I gotta tell you?”
“Tell that fucke
r to go. Now!”
“It’s okay, baby. I’ll be right there.” She turned back to Rissa. “Go away, you hear me?”
She started to close the door.
Rissa slapped her palm against it. “Gina, you said you wouldn’t have him around anymore.”
“Eric’s not here, is he? What I do on my own time is my business.”
“You’re not safe with him either. Please…come with me. I’ll get you help.”
“I don’t need your kind of help. Now just—”
Abruptly the door was yanked open. A half-naked Jimbo stood there, scowling. “You! What the hell are you doing here? Don’t you be talking to Gina again, you got that? You leave my business alone. Ain’t no call for you to be here.”
Rissa held her head high. “I was talking to her about Eric.”
“Where is the brat?” He craned to look over Rissa’s shoulder.
“C’mon, baby, let’s go back to bed.”
He smelled like a distillery, and he dug in his heels as Gina urged him back. One thick finger pointed at Rissa. “You don’t be talking to her again, you hear? Don’t you be telling her to stay away from me.” He yanked Gina hard against his side. “You cold, stuck-up bitch, what you need is a real man to thaw you out.” A gleam came into his eyes. “Too bad you’re not my type.” His expression turned sly. “Maybe I could make an exception.”
Rissa tore her gaze from his and pinned Gina, who was busy running her hands over him. “It’s okay, baby. She’s leaving now.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” She looked at Gina. “I will call the authorities if you don’t keep him away from Eric, do you hear me?”
“You can’t have my baby. You bring him home now.”
Rissa knew when she held the trump card. Not that she’d bring Eric here, anyway. “Eric will be staying the night at the ranch. I’m guessing you’d like a whole evening to yourself.
“That’s more like it. Keep the brat tonight,” Jimbo said.
“I’m not bringing him back until this man is gone, Gina, do you understand that? You already neglect him, and I won’t stand for you exposing him to a man who beats him.”
“Don’t take my baby! You can’t have my baby!”
“The fix is easy, Gina. Just keep this lowlife away from him.”
“Why you—” Jimbo charged her, but Gina jumped in front of him and held him back, if barely.
“Please, baby, please, baby.”
She was crawling all over him, crying and sobbing. “Come to the bedroom, baby…please.”
She stuck her hand down in his pants, and Jimbo stopped glaring at Rissa to pick Gina up.
“Get the hell out of here, bitch.” He kicked the door shut in her face.
Then Gina giggled, and Rissa heard the unmistakable sound of a breathy moan.
Sickened, Rissa turned away. She would keep Eric with her, and first thing in the morning she’d start making phone calls. He would be safe for the night, but no way was she going to let him come back to this place.
Gina might tell herself she loved her son, but this wasn’t love. Rissa knew exactly what a mother’s love felt like.
Oh, Mama…what would you do?
Then she thought of all the strays who’d drifted in and out of their house.
Keep the boy until he was safe. That’s exactly what her mother would do.
When she returned, her thoughts were roiling. She didn’t want to ruin Mackey’s celebration by bringing up what had just happened. Anyway, what could he do? He was leaving.
And she could handle this.
She would push and push hard when she contacted the authorities this time. Jimbo made her skin crawl, and clearly Gina’s promises couldn’t be trusted.
She’d done what she could for tonight, though. Now it was time to shower and get dressed in something festive.
As if she owned anything but jeans and work shirts.
Wait. There was this peasant blouse Veronica had given her as a birthday present a year or two ago…
“What’s this about a party for him?” her father loomed in the doorway, scowling. The him was uttered with pure distaste.
“You might want to think twice about being rude to the man who could wind up saving your ranch one day.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Mackey bought a fire truck for Sweetgrass. The next grass fire could be on our land, Dad. For a change, we might be able to save pasture and structures.”
“Bought it?”
“Yes.”
“What does he want?”
“Nothing but to be good to this town.”
“Why would he care?”
“The McLarens took him in,” she reminded him. “So he could graduate here. And Mama liked him.”
“Yeah, and look how that worked out. His wild ways took my boy and turned him bad.”
“Jackson didn’t leave because of Mackey, Dad. You drove him away. You didn’t stand behind him when he needed you most.”
“He killed that girl.”
“It was an accident. Everyone knows that.”
“He was drunk. He walked away without a scratch.”
“And he suffered. He was already suffering, but you didn’t care, did you? We were all scared and lonely and—” She was practically yelling now, and it would do no good. Her father was blind on the issue of the son who refused to stay and take over the ranch.
Just as he was blind to the daughter who was trying so hard to do exactly that.
“Nobody said you had to come tonight,” she cast over her shoulder as she stomped off. “But don’t you dare imply he has any motive but generosity.” She couldn’t stand it and glared back. “He’s a good man, Dad.”
“Don’t tell me you’re falling for him. He’s a con man. Always was. You can’t count on him.”
I can’t count on you. But she bit back the angry words that wouldn’t change his mind.
“I’m not counting on anything,” she replied bitterly. “I never do.”
Then she left before things got any worse.
Chapter Thirteen
Samantha and Eric had already left with Celia, which was just as well. Rissa’s insides were still in turmoil over Gina’s focus on her own pleasure rather than her child’s safety.
What kind of mother did that? Rissa couldn’t help contrasting the woman’s behavior with her own mother’s. Mary Gallagher had been fully there for all of them every day of their lives—not only her own children, but every assorted friend or stranger they’d drag home.
How this house had glistened with joy then. Reverberated with laughter and happiness and love.
Until disease and a jealous God had claimed her for their own. Ripped her from the arms of the family who’d needed her so.
Rissa glanced around her as she strode through the kitchen, feeling foolish in her pretty blouse and a denim miniskirt she’d forgotten Pen had sent her.
You’re not a boy, Clary, her sister had said. Stop dressing like one.
She could picture her black-haired sister’s disapproving face. Pen was gorgeous in a city kind of way, sleek black bob, swan neck, tall, slender limbs. She looked like a lady and always had.
Even if she was a shark lawyer. Her razor-sharp mind and her silver tongue had made her a rock star in Philadelphia legal circles, leading to her being recruited by a high-profile D.C. firm.
So she could be a lobbyist scumbag, Rissa often teased her.
“You planning to flash those legs for him, girl?”
She hadn’t spotted her father sitting at the kitchen table eating from the plate Celia had saved for him.
Because of course he couldn’t do something as sociable as join the rest of the town in celebrating Mackey’s generosity.
“See you later, Dad.” She was not going to get into another argument—
She smacked the screen door flat-handed and whirled. “Do you enjoy being a bastard?” she demanded.
“Watch your mouth, girl.”
&
nbsp; “All I’ve ever done is watch my mouth, watch my step, be on the lookout for the smallest thing I could do so maybe you’d—” She snapped her mouth shut. Clenched her fists.
Stop it. Nothing changes. It never will.
“Never mind.” She turned away.
“Maybe I’d what?” His voice got quiet.
Maybe you’d love me for once. Or even just…see me.
But he hadn’t, he wouldn’t, and she was soul-sick of trying. “Good night, Dad.”
And she left.
Mackey stared out the front window of the little cottage, trying like hell to figure out some excuse not to go. It wasn’t that he was shy. He’d never had a shy day in his life.
But this was different. He wasn’t on the West Coast in that world where the competition was cutthroat and he could get in his licks. Or on a battlefield where everything narrowed down to survival for him and his teammates.
This was…Sweetgrass. Here he’d been nurtured and lectured, been held out as a bad example even while knowing more love than ever before in his young life. The people of this place might have deplored his wild ways, but still they’d taken him to their collective bosom. His escapades had incited sermons and warning fingers shaken in his face, but his prowess on the football field and basketball court had made him part of them, the Four Horsemen lifted high on the town’s proverbial shoulders.
He’d chased and kissed girls here, been chased by them. Gotten into one prank after another that had no doubt exasperated many—yet through it all, he’d felt part of something for the first time in his life. Had belonged, if only for a handful of years.
Then Jackson’s mom had been taken, his buddy had gone off the rails, Beth had died and suddenly he, as the bad influence on Jackson, had come in a close second to his friend as the town’s pariah.
He didn’t want to buy his way back into the town’s good graces. That wasn’t why he’d gone after this fire truck.
He’d wanted to help Ian. And okay, maybe make amends. But all of that was private. He hadn’t asked for credit, didn’t want any.
He really did not want to go tonight, but Ruby had called just a few minutes ago and made it clear that he had no choice, not if he didn’t want to spit in their faces.
Texas Wild: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs Book 2 Page 16
