A woman ran from the side of the house. “You could kill someone driving like that. Who do you think you are?”
He had no idea who the woman who stood perhaps just inches over five feet with the short wispy hair was, but she was familiar enough to him. There was a resemblance to his mother in her and that ached in his chest. Whoever she was, he was probably related to her.
“I’m Eric Walker and I’m looking for Elias Morgan, and I’m not leaving until I talk to him.”
Her eyes opened wide and she stopped a mere foot from him. The anger seemed to defuse in her eyes—eyes that matched his mother’s.
“Eric,” she said softly.
“Where is he? I have little patience to sit here and have discussions with total strangers.”
Her mouth dropped open. “He’s busy right now.”
Eric looked around at all the cars. “I see that. You know what, I’ll find him my damn self.”
He pushed past her. His long legs took him closer to the house as she turned to jog after him. “Eric, wait. You can’t go in there. Eric!” She shouted just as a man opened the front door and stepped out.
“What’s going on?”
The woman caught up to him. She panted for breath. “He’s looking for grandpa,” she said and that had Eric tightening his jaw.
So she was a cousin. What a way to meet kin.
“You’re not going anywhere,” the man said as he moved toward Eric. “Why don’t you get back into that piece of crap truck of yours and go home.”
Anger boiled inside of Eric, but the words to argue wouldn’t surface. He simply couldn’t take his eyes off the man in front of him.
They stood eye to eye. All six foot, four inches of them were the same—the same build, the same eyes, and obviously the same fever to be in charge of the situation.
“I’m not leaving until I talk to Elias.”
The man’s eyes narrowed on him. “You’ll have to go through me.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Eric grit his teeth and fisted his hands at his side.
The man smiled. “Like I said, you’re not going in unless you go through me.”
The anger that had balled up inside Eric released into his veins. He pushed into the man with all intent to push past him, only to find the man’s shoulder forcing itself into his shoulder. A moment later the man’s hands were on his chest pushing him back.
“I’m trying to save you from yourself. Go home.”
Eric shook his head and charged toward the man. He could hear the woman behind them squeal and beg them to stop, but it was too late.
The man threw the first punch, which landed right in Eric’s gut. Forcing himself to not hunch over, he brought his right fist up with an uppercut to the man’s jaw, knocking him off balance for only a moment before the man opened a full assault on him.
Eric was only aware that the woman had run inside the house yelling. Both men continued their battery of the other. Eric had been hit in the eye, the cheek, the mouth—but he’d landed just as many punches on the man who looked so similar to him.
“Break it up. Break it up!” He heard his father’s voice say and a moment later two sets of arms pried the men apart.
Each of them hunched over to catch their breath.
Eric’s cheek and lip stung and his eye was freaking going to swell shut. He spit blood on the ground and felt the wave of nausea roll through him. He was not going to puke. He’d die before he did something cowardly like that in front of relatives he’d never met.
When he could focus, he saw Elias Morgan in the doorway of the house.
“No good will ever come from him being here,” he said, his words directly aimed at Eric.
Eric spat more blood on the ground.
“Grandpa, you shouldn’t speak like that to people,” the soft voice of the woman came from behind Elias. “He’s kin.”
“Not mine.” Elias turned and walked back into the house.
It was incredible how hollow two words could make a man feel, Eric thought.
“What are you doing?” His father moved toward him resting his hand on his shoulder. “What have you gotten into?”
“They poisoned the horses. They poisoned the cattle. He wants the land, Dad. He wants to move mom. They’re trying to run us out. I’m not going to stand for that.”
His father shook his head. “Go home.”
Eric opened his eyes as wide as he could and focused them on his father. “I’m not going to lose everything I’ve built because some old man has a grudge against you.”
“Go home, Eric.”
His father’s even tone still could stop him at forty. He didn’t like how weak it made him feel.
But when his father gave him a nod and that simple look it said that things were under control. Everett Walker had obviously taken care of the matter at hand. It didn’t calm Eric. He’d like to have taken a few more shots at the man who was now being comforted by the woman.
Eric pressed the back of his hand to his eye. “I’m not losing my home. They cost me my business today. I’m not giving up on this.”
“Go home,” his father said softly, but sternly. He then turned to the others. “Lydia and Tyson, tell your grandfather I will be back in the morning. We’re not done discussing things.”
The woman nodded. Eric’s father pressed his hands to Eric’s shoulder and turned him toward his truck.
“Go home and get washed up. I’ll be there in an hour.”
The tone was the same as when he was a child in trouble. There was an angry undertone beneath the calm exterior. Though this time Eric thought it might not be because he’d been fighting with some unknown cousin, but it might be because his own father was equally as angry.
Eric gave him a nod, opened the door to his truck, and climbed in.
His father walked toward his car, but waited for Eric to drive away before he climbed in. Eric could see him follow him out of the gates of the Morgan’s estate.
Why was his father taking this in stride? They were killing off animals—their business. They couldn’t sit by and watch the Morgans destroy what they’d built—or destroy them.
The shower Eric took actually hurt. His knuckles were bruised and so was his shoulder. His left eye was nearly swollen shut and the gash on his lip was going to have him choosing his food wisely for the next week.
When he’d slipped on a new pair of jeans, he pulled on a worn out T-shirt and headed to the living room to gather his hat. He needed to check on Whiskey River.
His father’s presence on his couch should have startled him, but deep down he’d expected him.
“I have to check on Whiskey River,” he said moving toward his boots.
“You have a few minutes. Sit,” his father demanded without looking up at him.
Eric sucked in a breath and moved to the chair across from his father.
Everett Walker was built just like Eric. He was tall and sturdy, but he could contain his feelings without punching people. Eric seemed to be still learning that.
His father’s arms rested on his knees and his fingers were steepled. This meant he was deep in thought.
“I don’t want you going over to the Morgan’s again, do I make myself clear?”
“I need answers.”
“Do I make myself clear?”
Eric bit down. “Yes.”
“Elias had nothing to do with the misfortune we’ve had.”
“Misfortune?” The word had Eric shooting up out of his chair. “Horses are dead. Cattle are dead. Misfortune?”
“Sit,” his father said calmly and Eric did so. “I’ve known Elias my whole life. If he says he didn’t do something, he didn’t. Besides he has legitimate alibis for his whereabouts the past few days.”
“So he paid someone. He certainly wouldn’t have done that himself.” Even Eric knew that.
“Don’t go back there,” his father said as he rose and Eric followed. “Byron messed up, but I keep my word. No one will s
uffer. Not Byron, not you, and not Elias Morgan.”
“How can you care about him?”
“He’s part of you, Eric. That’s blood.”
His father’s words stung as badly as the cut on his lip. “Who were the others? Lydia and Tyson?”
“Your mother had a brother who was killed in combat in Desert Storm. Lydia and Tyson are his children.”
“I can’t believe I live ten miles from family I’ve never met.”
His father nodded. “Elias was very clear on that matter many years ago. I wonder if he’d reconsider now.” He moved toward the door. “You do have your gun nearby don’t you?”
“Always,” Eric said slowly. “Why?”
“I believe our problems are not Elias Morgan, but that troubles me too. Because I don’t know who is behind all of this. Protect yourself,” he said as he opened the door and walked out of the house.
Eric watched as his father drove away, then put on his hat and walked out to the barn.
Ben was sitting with Whiskey River now and Dr. Parks hovered over him.
“It won’t be long now,” Dr. Parks said and Eric felt the heaviness of grief swell in his chest. “He’s comfortable though.”
Eric moved toward the large animal that lay in his stall on his side. He knelt down next to his nose and gently stroked him.
“I’m sorry buddy,” he said as a tear welled in his eye. “I’ll avenge this.”
Ben looked at him. “You know who did this?”
Eric bit down on his lower lip. “Not yet, but someone will pay for it.”
Whisky River nudged Eric’s hand with his nose as if to say goodbye and then he was gone.
Chapter Sixteen
Susan dropped her purse and bag into the oversized chair in the living room and then plopped herself into the loveseat. It had been a long day.
She smiled, though, when she thought of breakfast with Eric. That had made the day go by perhaps a little better.
“You’re home late,” Bethany said as she walked through the doorway with two cups of tea.
Susan was sure she jumped a bit. She was still getting used to another person living in her house.
“Some night’s classes just go a little longer.”
Bethany handed her a cup of tea. “I did my bedtime yoga and I was still too awake. I thought this would help.”
“You do yoga before bedtime?”
Bethany nodded as she took a sip from her cup. “Yes. It’s wonderful. I could teach you some if you’d like.”
“Maybe someday.” Susan sipped from her cup. “Let’s see, you run, you do yoga, and you sip tea. Is this all Hollywood stuff?”
The question had flustered Bethany a bit, that was obvious by the tightening of her lips and then the forced smile. “You always have to look your best.”
“You’re not in Hollywood anymore.”
“Can’t let go of myself. What if I get a call tomorrow?”
“Will that happen?”
Bethany eased down on the loveseat next to Susan. “It might. I have some contacts.”
“Do you want that to happen?” she asked, reading more into Bethany’s answer.
“I don’t know. Right now what I’d like to do is get to know my family.”
“It sounds like you’ll get to do that at Sunday dinner.”
Bethany nodded. “I’d like to get to know my brothers and sisters though. I’m sure we’ll work into that.” She sipped her tea again and then looked up with wide eyes. “I did get a call from Dane today. He said he was at the hospital.”
“What happened?”
“Got kicked in the face by a scared horse or something. Ten stitches across his jaw.”
Susan winced. “That’s horrible. Is he okay?”
Bethany shrugged. “I’m sure he is. It was nice he thought to tell me. It made me feel like a part of the family.”
“You are a part of it. I suppose in this time of loss everyone is just a bit out of sorts. I know when my grandfather died it took me a while to get over it.”
Bethany smiled. “I suppose that’s it.” She took another sip of her tea. “I think this is working. I’m going to head to bed. See you in the morning,” she said as she rose from the loveseat and walked out of the room.
Susan leaned back, tucked her legs up under her, and cradled the cup in her hands. She thought about her grandfather. She missed him still. They’d had many adventures together. He was the first one to ever eat something she baked. She’d baked him a cake in her Holly Hobby oven.
Perhaps that was what Eric was going through. What memories did he have of his grandfather that made him who he was?
Susan let her head fall from side to side stretching out the muscles in her neck. Maybe she would let Bethany show her some of those yoga moves after all. The tea had seemed to calm her and she too was ready for bed.
Kicking her feet out from under her she stood and walked to the kitchen. She rinsed out the cup and set it in the sink. She turned off the lights and as she walked toward the stairs she noticed someone walking up the front steps. The figure looked like a man through the frosted glass.
She glanced at the clock. It was eleven. There was no reason anyone should be at the door that late.
Fear crept into her throat as she contemplated yelling for Bethany.
The person tapped on the door. “Susan. Are you in there?”
She tiptoed closer to the door.
“It’s Eric if you can hear me.”
She quickly moved to the door and pulled it open.
He was leaning with his hands on either side of the doorjamb. His head was down and his face shadowed by the porch light behind him.
“What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you.”
He didn’t speak but slowly lifted his head.
The moment she saw his face she covered her mouth to stifle the gasp. “Oh, God! What happened to you?”
She reached for his hand and pulled him through the door. Lifting on her tiptoes she pulled off his cowboy hat and studied him in the dim light.
“Did you get kicked by a horse too?” she asked as she reached her hand to his face.
“I wish. How did you know about that?”
“Dane called Bethany today and told her. He was checking in on her.”
Eric nodded. “Can I stay for a bit?”
“Yes, yes.” She pulled him in further and shut the door behind him. “C’mon, let’s get something on that eye.”
She hurried to the kitchen and pulled a frozen bag of peas from the freezer. Gathering the dishtowel from the handle of the oven, she wrapped the peas inside the towel. “Sit.”
He let out a small chuckle and did as she said. “I have a lot of people telling me what to do today.”
Susan moved to him, positioning herself between his long legs, and pressing the bag to his eye. He winced again. “Does it hurt?”
“Only when you touch it.”
She should have let him take the bag from her and hold it, but she didn’t want to move. Deciding to stand there, very intimately in front of him, she placed her other hand on his shoulder.
He looked up at her with the uncovered eye. “You look beautiful.”
That made her laugh. “My hair is in a knot on my head and I have flour on my clothes. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Eric lifted his hands to her hips and she sucked in a breath. “Thanks for letting me in. I’ve had a crappy day and about an hour ago I realized that I didn’t want to wallow in it any longer. I wanted to see you.”
Susan licked her lips and gazed down into his dark eyes. “What happened to you today?”
Eric raised his hand to the bag and pulled it from his eye. Laying it on the table, he turned back and took her hands in his. “I lost my horse today.”
“Oh, Eric.” Her voice cracked as she said it. “I’m so sorry.”
He nodded. “Lost a mare too and four head of cattle by the time the day was over. My business officially is shu
t down since I had to move out the rest of the horses. I found out they’d been poisoned.”
“That’s horrible. Who would do something like that?”
“I have my ideas, but I’m told I’m wrong. Anyway, I met family I didn’t know about. Specifically my cousin.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Sure. I met him when he punched me in the gut, which obviously was the beginning of the fight I got into.”
Susan moved in closer to him. “I think you’re right. You had a crappy day.”
“It started nice though,” he said softly.
Susan pulled back and looked down at his swollen eye, and cut lip. “I was thinking that before you arrived.”
“You know what would make my lip better?”
“What?” she said breathlessly.
“If you kissed me—softly,” he added.
His hands were on her hips again and she steadied herself by placing her hands on his shoulders. “Are you sure about that? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“At this moment, I think it would hurt more if you didn’t kiss me.”
Susan gently cupped his face in her hands and tipped her head to press a soft kiss to his lip. “How is that?”
“Feels better already.”
She kissed him again, this time lingering a moment longer. When she pulled back, she gazed down into his eyes.
Eric nodded. “Yeah, that’s doing the trick,” he said smiling. He maneuvered himself so that now she was straddling both of his legs and he eased her down onto his lap so that their chests pressed against the other’s and their mouths were exactly even so they could deepen the kiss.
Susan wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist. It was so much more intimate than ever before and she found herself sinking into him, wanting more.
Eric’s hands slid up her back and she let the moan that stirred in her ease out.
Cupping her hands over his face she deepened the already heated kiss only to have him jerk away.
“Oh, God! I hurt you. I’m so sorry.” Susan pulled her hands back.
Walker Pride (The Walker Family Book 1) Page 11
