Texas Holdem (The Hell Yeah! Series)

by Sable Hunter

  “Which means, what?” Avery pressed. “I think you’ve jumped to some pretty big conclusions. Tricia adored you, you fool. She worshiped the ground you walked on. How could you do her this way?”

  For the first time, Lance was feeling grave doubts. “You never answered my original question. Is she sick? I held her last night while she shook like a leaf in my arms. What could make her do something like that?”

  Avery stared down at her sleeping baby. “I shouldn’t tell you anything. You don’t really deserve to know.”

  Lance hoped he didn’t end up getting fired over this. “Please, Avery. She won’t talk to me. If I’m going to help her, I need to know what I’m dealing with. Do you know?”

  “Yes, I know.” Avery met his eyes, hers hard and resolute. “She has epilepsy. She’s going to need help and you’re the man for the job.”

  “Epilepsy?” Lance was stunned and scared. “I don’t know enough about it to make any judgments whatsoever. Is she going to be okay?”

  “With the proper medications and someone to help her, yes. You need to think long and hard about this, Lance.” She walked him to the door. “I certainly hope you’re the man my family thinks you are.”

  Lance thanked Avery and left the ranch, pausing only long enough to call Aron to tell him he needed a few hours off. There wasn’t anything urgent to be done, so he just climbed into his truck and drove. He had some decisions to make and he needed to get his head screwed on right to make them.

  As he headed north, Skye called to tell him that she and Noah were in Oklahoma to meet with Brooke. Lance wished them well, but he didn’t let on about his own situation. They had enough on their plate without him adding to their worry. This was something he was going to have to work out for himself.

  Mile after mile clocked on the odometer. Memory after memory came to his mind. He relived every word he’d ever said to Tricia – both the tender ones and the cruel ones. Had he made a horrible mistake? To hear Avery tell it, he had. There was only one other person who knew the truth and he was going to ask her face to face.

  Arriving at North-Star, Lance beat on the door, calling Marcelle’s name. “Marcelle Lambert! I want to talk to you!” He hammered again. “Marcelle, it’s Lance Rogers! Open up!”

  When the old grand dame came to the door, her steps were slow and she looked pallid, her skin tinged with gray. “Have you changed your mind, Mr. Rogers?”

  “Not about the ranch, no. I need to ask you a question.”

  “Let’s sit in the den, I don’t feel like walking to my office.”

  He fell in step behind her, watching while she eased down carefully in a chair. “You’re dying, aren’t you?”

  “Aren’t we all? Just by different measures.” She picked up a handkerchief and held it to her lips. “My offer still stands.”

  “When was the last time you talked to Tricia?”

  “Not since the day before I spoke to you. I’ve been in the hospital.”

  “Does she know this?”

  “No, I don’t intend to be a burden. I want my last days to bring her joy, not pain.” She shut her eyes and breathed heavily as if exhausted with life.

  “I’m sorry if I can’t muster up a lot of concern.”

  “I don’t expect any from you. What did you want to ask me?”

  Lance folded his arms and backed up to the ornate fireplace. “Did you know Tricia has epilepsy?”

  “Yes. She had it as a child. Unfortunately, I understand it’s returned.”

  “Are you close to your granddaughter?” Lance didn’t have an interrogation plan, he was too upset to try and trap the old lady in a lie. Mainly, he was shooting in the dark.

  “I think I’m making progress. I am endeavoring to repair our relationship while I can.” She pointed to a chair. “Won’t you sit down?”

  “I don’t want to get too comfortable.” Lance paced across to the window and looked out at the vast ranchland beyond the fence. “Does she know about our past? About Shenandoah?”

  “No, not at all. Not unless you told her,” Marcelle stated emphatically. “I’m trying to regain my granddaughter’s regard, Mr. Rogers. I don’t treat the few precious moments I have with her as a confessional.” She coughed and took a sip of water. “Although, she would probably forgive both of our sins, if we asked. Unlike me, she is kind hearted. Do you want me to tell her everything?”

  “No, I don’t.” Lance shook his head. “Why did you offer me the ranch in exchange for marrying Tricia?”

  Marcelle leaned her head against the back of the chair and sighed wearily. “I want Tricia to be happy. I don’t think either one of you should suffer for the sins of your fathers, so to speak. I thought I could force the issue.”

  “No one should try to play God, Mrs. Lambert.” He faced the woman who’d soiled his life, raising his hand to make a point. “When I leave here, I’m going straight to Tricia and convince her to let me help with the baby. I’m going to ask for her forgiveness.”

  “As you should, she was innocent.”

  Lance ignored her, but he knew she was right. “I don’t know if she’ll have me, but I’m going to ask her to be my wife. Our child deserves my name.”

  “How romantic of you,” she drawled sarcastically.

  “This isn’t about romance, this is about doing what’s best for the baby.”

  “I’m not sure how much luck you’ll have. Tricia is kind hearted, but she can be stubborn.” Marcelle sighed deeply. “If you manage to get her to the altar, my promise still stands.”

  “No. No way. I didn’t come here to talk about Shenandoah.” Lance shook his head, his eyes stern and determined. “Keep the damn ranch. I don’t want it, not this way. I’ll provide for my family, we won’t need anything from you.”

  Marcelle didn’t argue, she didn’t appear to have the strength.

  Once Lance was gone, she smiled and shut her eyes.

  * * *

  Ting!

  “May I help you?” Bryn called from the back of the florist shop. Coming into the showroom with her arms full of baby’s breath, she stopped in her tracks. “Oh, it’s you.”

  Lance frowned at the dismissive attitude. “Do you know me?”

  “You’re Lance Rogers.”

  The redhead didn’t seem to like him very much. “You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Miss. You recognize me, but I don’t know you.”

  “I’m Bryn Harmon. I work for Tricia and Avery. Neither one of them are here right now. Do you need a nice bouquet of prickly pear or poison ivy, perhaps?”

  Lance would’ve found her amusing if he weren’t so worried about Tricia. “You’re the girl who has Denver Bolden chasing his tail.”

  “I don’t like that, Mr. Rogers.” Bryn frowned. “I know you’re Denver’s boss, he speaks highly of you.”

  “I’m his supervisor, we both work for the McCoy’s.” Lance thought it best to clarify the situation. “Apparently, he’s the only one speaking highly of me at the moment.”

  Shrugging, Bryn went about her task of putting together a bridal bouquet. “Oh, Tricia doesn’t have a bad word to say about you. She’d just rather not see you or talk to you.”

  “Okay.” Lance could see he was getting nowhere fast. “So, is she upstairs?”

  Bryn shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’m minding the store, not minding her business.”

  Lance frowned. “Isn’t the store her business?”

  “Don’t mess with me, Lance Rogers.” Bryn waved a lily in his face. “You can’t go around making women cry and breaking their hearts, especially not when they’re pregnant with your child. There’s a special place in Hades for a man like you.”

  “Hades?”

  “That’s right, I don’t cuss. I used to be a nun, I’ll have you know. I took vows to God.”

  Lance’s eyes widened. Now he knew why she wouldn’t kiss Denver. He wondered if Denver knew this bit of news. “Why did you leave the church?”

  Bryn looked uncomfortable. �
��I don’t talk about that with strangers.”

  “I see, that’s probably for the best.” She was a pretty woman, but he could see Denver had his work cut out for him. Something told him there was more to Miss Bryn Harmon than met the eye. “Well, I’ll just leave and let you…arrange. You tell Tricia I came by and that I need to talk to her as soon as possible. Will you do that?”

  “I will relay your message.” Bryn nodded primly. “I hope you have a blessed day, Mr. Rogers. Try to stay out of trouble.”

  Lance retreated. He was quite sure his troubles were just beginning.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Over the next four days, Lance grew more and more frustrated. Tricia was managing to elude him at every turn. When he called her, she wouldn’t answer the phone; when he came to see her, he was told she wasn’t at home. In fact, every time he visited the shop, she never seemed to be working. She was going out of her way to avoid him. After how he’d treated her, who could blame her?

  All of this was his fault, he could see that now. Some people viewed the world through rose-colored glasses, but he’d been wearing blue-tinted shades for years, shades that cast a shadow on everything and everyone. Since the day his father had succumbed to the Lambert’s trap, Lance had lost his faith in people. He trusted his sister, the McCoys, and a few other long-time acquaintances, but even with them, he maintained a healthy skepticism. Lance tended to expect the worst. Like Deke Rogers had been so fond of saying – expect the worst and you won’t ever be disappointed.

  Since visiting Avery and Marcelle, the ice encasing his heart had begun to thaw. He’d lain awake last night thinking about Tricia. He’d let his hatred for the Lamberts cloud his judgment. She was nothing like them. She wasn’t guilty of what he’d accused her of, he’d sat in judgment of Tricia with only the flimsiest of evidence to convict her. Well, he intended to correct his mistakes, get back into her good graces. Lance was determined to make her fall in love with him again.

  Desperate to see her, he’d visited the florist shop earlier and purchased a large bouquet of fragrant, purple lavender from a very suspicious Bryn Harmon. Now, he was lurking on a street corner, hoping to way-lay the woman who had avoided him all week. Lance knew Tricia well enough to be aware of some of her habits. If he wasn’t sadly mistaken, she would be passing this way shortly.

  On Wednesdays, his good girl went to worship services. Since the First Baptist church was located only three blocks south of the florist shop, she usually walked. Today, the weather was clear, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Hopefully, she hadn’t utilized the services of Uber Freddy. The guy was beginning to get on Lance’s nerves. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was hopelessly attracted to Tricia. Who could blame him? Between Freddy and the female Musketeers, they’d blocked his every move, forcing him to lurk behind a mountain laurel bush, waiting for Tricia to come strolling by.

  “Hey, Mister, whatcha doin?” Lance glanced down to see Sheriff Kane’s son, Dwayne, staring at him while licking a chocolate ice cream cone.

  “I’m waiting for someone.”

  “Can I wait wiff you?”

  Lance nodded to the Opie Taylor look-alike. “I suppose so. Where’s your mom and dad?”

  “Dad’s at his office and Mom is coming this way.”

  He pointed down the street where Lance could see Lilibet Saucier strolling down the street with…Tricia. She looked like a ray of sunshine come to life. What he’d heard about pregnant women was true, she was radiant with child. His child.

  “Are you a real cowboy?”

  Lance stepped back into the bushes so he wouldn’t be readily seen. He didn’t want Tricia to spot him and veer off into another direction. He’d prefer to not have to chase her down the street if he could avoid it. “I make my living riding horses and chasing cows, so yes, I guess I am.”

  “Do you wanna lick?” Dwayne held his cone up toward Lance.

  “No, thanks.”

  “If I come to your house, would you let me ride a horse?”

  “Maybe. The horses at the ranch don’t really belong to me. I just work there.”

  “Who’s them flowers for?”

  Another voice chimed in. “Yes, Mr. Rogers, who are the flowers for?” Lilibet Saucier asked as Tricia stood a few of feet away.

  Lance locked eyes with Tricia and held out the purple lavender. “They’re for this lovely lady, if she’ll accept them and my apology.”

  Tricia tentatively raised her hand and accepted the flowers.

  “Well, you two have fun, I need to get home and feed my family. The sheriff comes home hungry.” She gave Tricia a wink. “Thanks for donating the centerpiece for the altar next Sunday, I know it will be a special occasion. Dedicating two babies at one time! We haven’t seen that in a while!”

  “I’m happy to do it. Both families are very special to me.” All the while, she hadn’t been able to look away from Lance. He was staring at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. “See you later, Lilibet. Bye, Dwayne.”

  Once they were alone, Tricia buried her face in the lavender. “Thank you. I’ve never received more beautiful flowers.” Or any flowers, for that matter. “I understand you’ve been wanting to speak with me?”

  “Yea, I have. It’s just been hard to get past your first line of defense.”

  When a couple of women passed by, eyeing them with speculation, Tricia gestured down the street. “Would you like to take a walk?”

  Lance could see the hesitation and dread in her eyes and he wanted to erase it more than anything. “Why don’t we go back to your shop, so I can say what I have to say in private?”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Shall we go?” He offered her his arm, but she didn’t take it. A pang of regret hit Lance in the chest. “Don’t be afraid, Tricia. I’m never going to hurt you again. I promise.”

  “I know, Lance,” she said quietly, as she walked next to him down the sidewalk. “I don’t plan on giving you a chance to hurt me.”

  Her statement weighed as heavily in his heart as a stone.

  ...“Can I get you something to drink?” Tricia asked politely as Lance took a seat at her dining table.

  “Just water will be fine.” His eyes followed her as she moved around the kitchen. The woman was gorgeous as always. She wasn’t showing yet, but she’d be beautiful when she was round with his child.

  “Of course, I’ll get it for you.”

  She was treating him differently and he didn’t like it. With Lilibet and the others, she acted happy and seemed full of energy. With him, she was subdued and careful. He’d quenched the light in her eyes and he hated it. “I’ll also take a big helping of crow if you have it.”

  “Crow?” She glanced at him quizzically. When it dawned on her what he was talking about, she shrugged. “I have chicken. Will that do?” After she poured a glass of water and added a couple cubes of ice, she set it down in front of him. Before joining him, she placed the lavender he’d given her in a vase and retreated with it to the other end of the table to take a chair.

  “Thank you for the water.” Now, that he was here, Lance didn’t know how to begin. “I think we need to start over.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean. I think we’ve said everything there is to be said.”

  Okay. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him and he didn’t blame her. “Tricia, I was wrong.”

  Her heart began to thump hard in her chest. “About what?” She held on to the bottom edge of the table, pressing the wood so hard, she thought there might be depressions matching her fingerprints.

  “Everything.” He got up and moved closer, taking a seat right next to her. “I was wrong about everything.”

  Tricia began to tremble, nothing to do with a seizure, this was all him. She couldn’t let herself be vulnerable, not again. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  He reached out to stroke her velvety cheek, but he let his hand drop when she winced and moved away just enough to avoid his touch. “Let me e
xplain. The night we made love, I got up early to go to work.”

  She quit breathing so she wouldn’t miss a word. “Yes, I remember.”

  “Before I left, I wanted to leave you a note.” He pointed to the desk near the window.

  Tricia shook her head slightly. “I didn’t find a note.”

  Lance placed his forearms on the table, clasping his hands together. “That’s because I didn’t leave one. As I searched for a pen and paper, my attention was drawn to the framed photograph on the desk.”

  Tricia glanced in that direction. “The one of me and my grandmother with the horse?”

  “Yes. When I saw it, I was thrown completely off balance. I thought everything we’d shared was a lie.”

  “Why? I don’t understand.”

  “Your grandmother is Marcelle Lambert.”

  “Yes, I know.” She stared at his face, trying to read his expression. “You mentioned her the night I came to tell you about the baby. You called her a bad name, but I didn’t understand what she had to do with anything. You were angry because I didn’t tell you about the epilepsy.”

  She’d brought her hands to the top of the table and Lance took the opportunity to capture one. “No, I was never angry about the epilepsy. I didn’t even know you were suffering with it until Avery told me. I’ve never been around anyone with the condition before, I didn’t recognize the symptoms.”

  “You talked to Avery about us?” Tricia’s voice sounded distressed.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Did you tell her I was pregnant?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. I was trying to get her to talk to me.” When she would’ve pulled her hand from his grasp, he held on tight. “Listen, there’s something you don’t know. Something I need to tell you.”

  Tricia’s breath hitched in her throat. “What?” She could tell by the look on his face that it was necessary.

  “Your grandparents, Marcelle and Slade Lambert, knew my father. There was a card game and my father was drunk or drugged and he lost everything. Your grandmother kept pushing him to bet more and more. When he placed his last bet, he put our home up as the final bid.” He let out a harsh breath. “Shenandoah, where that photograph of you and your grandmother was taken, used to belong to my family, until your grandparents stole it from us. We lost everything. My father never recovered. He drove his car into a concrete embankment. I was eleven years old.”