The Texan's Christmas

by Linda Warren

  “She doesn’t talk to women like you.”

  Lucky’s hands curled into fists. Stay calm. “Must be nice living in that righteous world. Does she know you’re in here?”

  “Hell, no. A man has to have some fun.” He leaned over and whispered, “You and I could have a lot of fun.”

  She turned on her heel and marched into the back room before she hit him. Suddenly she heard a familiar voice. It couldn’t be. She peeped around the corner. Kid was sitting next to Luther. Why couldn’t he just leave?

  “Hey, Kid,” Luther was saying. “Long time no see.”

  “Been sort of busy.”

  “Yeah, you Hardin boys are in the oil business.”

  “It’s a dirty job but someone has to do it.”

  Luther’s laugh was an obnoxious sound. “What are you doing in here? Getting reacquainted with Lucky?”

  “No. It’s hot and I wanted a beer.”

  “Yeah, right.” Luther snickered and then shouted, “Hey, Lucky, bring some beers to the back table for the guys and me.”

  “You’re going that way,” Kid butted in. “Why don’t you carry them yourself?”

  “Because that’s what she does—wait on men.”

  Kid turned on the stool. “I don’t like the way you said that.”

  “Who cares what you like, Hardin? Lucky’s a tramp and you ought to know that better than anyone.”

  That’s when Kid’s fist connected with Luther’s jaw and he went flying into another time zone—almost. He landed against the jukebox and an old Waylon Jennings song came on. “I’ve always been crazy…”

  How fitting could that be?

  The room became completely quiet and she motioned to Bubba Joe. Luther moaned and Bubba helped him to his feet as Luther’s friends gathered round.

  “Time to go,” Bubba Joe said.

  At the door, Luther turned back, rubbing his jaw. “This ain’t over, Hardin.”

  “I’m right here, Luther.”

  “Fun’s over,” Bubba Joe announced and everyone went back to their drinking.

  “What are you doing?” Lucky snarled at Kid.

  Kid twisted his fist and sat on the stool again. “Breaking my hand, I think.”

  “I want you to leave.”

  “I didn’t like what he said.”

  “So? You’re not my protector. Who do you think comes in here? A Bible study group? It’s men with loud mouths, dirty ideas and bad attitudes.”

  “Then why in the hell are you doing this?”

  She exhaled a hot breath. “I want you to leave—now.”

  “All right, I was wrong—once again and…”

  “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry because sorry doesn’t even start to cover the multitude of your sins.”

  He winced. “Can I have a beer, please?”

  “No.”

  He held up his hands in defeat. “I’ll leave if you’ll tell me what those guys were doing here last night.”

  “You’re not in a position to make deals. And it’s none of your business.”

  “Are you into something illegal?” he persisted.

  She stomped her foot, went into the storeroom and sat on several cases of beer. Bubba Joe stood in the doorway and she nodded.

  “Lucky.”

  “Do it.”

  She got up and listened near the doorjamb.

  “Kid, you have to go,” Bubba Joe said. “Lucky wants you out of here.”

  “Yeah, I got that impression.”

  “Just leave. I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “I think I’ll go put some ice on my hand and maybe my head. I seem to make all the wrong decisions. Look out for Lucky.”

  “I always do.”

  Lucky leaned against the wall and wondered how long she could keep this up. A part of her was happy that he’d taken up for her, the other part was angry. She knew what the people of High Cotton thought of her, but it cut deep to hear it said in front of Kid. Hating him got her through many days and seeing him after twenty years was doing a number on her resolve to never let Kid get to her again.

  He would leave and her life would get back to normal. She prayed it would be soon.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  UNABLE TO STOP HIMSELF, Kid waited outside until closing. When Lucky and Bubba Joe walked out he knew she was okay and drove away. Trying to maintain his adult dignity, and at times that was hard to find, he made the trip to Houston and his apartment. He called Aunt Etta to let her know where he was.

  After stripping out of his clothes, he found ice in the freezer for his hand and jaw and fell into bed. Before sleep claimed him, he saw Lucky’s blue eyes and wondered if she’d ever smile for him again. Why was that so important to him?

  He woke up groaning. Every muscle in his body ached, especially his hand. He had to stop fighting in bars or it was going to kill him. Literally.

  The ice had melted and the bed was damp. He didn’t bother with it. The maid would change the sheets. He winced all the way to the bathroom. He had a Jacuzzi but he never used it unless he had female company. After filling it with water, he slipped in and let the hot, swirling water relax him.

  Afterward, he felt much better and was ready for the day. He dressed and headed for Shilah. The company was located in the Murdock Building in downtown Houston. It was twelve stories high with a huge sculpture of an oil derrick out front surrounded by a flower bed of blooming plants that the gardening crew kept looking spiffy. He parked in his spot and got out. At the back door, he realized he didn’t have his keys. Damn! He’d left them at the apartment.

  He strolled to the front entrance. Carlos, the maintenance guy, opened the front doors early. He went through the large lobby where Stephanie, the receptionist, was settling in at her desk. When she saw him, she tottered around it on four-inch platform heels until she was almost touching him with her body. The low-cut tight-fitting knit dress left little to the imagination. It was exactly the way he liked his women. Why wasn’t he liking it now?

  “Hey, Kid, I haven’t seen you in a while.” She smiled in that seductive way he knew well.

  He took a step back. “I’ve been busy.” He dated her a few times, but she was a little young and over-the-top, even for him. A complete airhead, the only thing Stephanie saw or cared about was her reflection in a mirror. He wasn’t sure what that said about him and his taste in women, but then again he did. He was an airhead, too.

  She fluttered the fake eyelashes. “Wanna have some fun tonight?”

  “I…”

  “My friend’s in town so maybe you could ask your brother and we could make it a foursome.”

  He frowned. “My brother? Which one?”

  “Not the CEO. He’s much too intense, but the other one is nice.”

  “You mean Chance?” He could feel his face setting into one big frown like a plaster-of-Paris mold.

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s married with kids and if the world was coming to an end he wouldn’t cheat on his wife.”

  “Oh. I just thought he’d like to have some fun.”

  “Fun to Chance is seeing his wife after a long day, hugging his daughter and holding his newborn son.”

  She rolled her eyes. “B-o-ring.”

  “It’s called integrity, honor and until death do us part.”

  Placing a hand on his chest, she murmured, “We can make it a threesome.”

  He removed her hand. “I’m not into that.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since forever,” he flung over his shoulder as he walked to the elevator.

  He kept the steamed up emotions inside until he fell into his chair in his office. Why had Cadde and Chance inherited good qualities? While he had received the short end of the stick on morals and values from good ol’ Dad?

  He’d once told Chance that people are shaped by the ones around them. Genes and environment play a factor. As does free will when we mature. He’d learned that in Bible study as a kid. So maybe he needed to stop
blaming his father and look inward. He’d had choices and no one had made them but him.

  In school, he’d loved Lucky. He’d never cheated on her and he could have, many times. So what had made him into the selfish bastard he was today? The answer was simple. He had. And only him.

  His head was starting to hurt so he grabbed his briefcase and went to work. With the leases in a folder, he walked down to Cadde’s office. As usual, Cadde was at his desk. He was a permanent fixture.

  His brother looked up. “I thought you weren’t coming in today.”

  He laid the folder in front of him. “There’re the leases for those tracts in south Texas. It’ll have to be a smaller well because the rest of the land is leased up.”

  Cadde glanced through the folder. “Good. I’ll have Barbara take it to bookkeeping.” He leaned back. “What about Lucky’s land?”

  “I told you that’s off the table and I’m serious.”

  “Kid…”

  Chance walked in, interrupting them. “Have you… Oh, Kid, I didn’t think you were coming in today.”

  He could feel Cadde watching him. “What’s wrong with your hand? You’re holding it funny.”

  “I did something stupid…again.” He flexed his fingers.

  Chance gasped. “You didn’t! You said you’d take some time and think.”

  “I didn’t do anything to the headstone so pull your eyeballs back into your head.”

  “What did you do?” Cadde asked.

  “Well, I went to The Beer Joint and Luther Farley said something I didn’t like about Lucky so I decked him. Didn’t even think about it. Just bam—knocked him clear across the room right into the jukebox.”

  Chance sank into a chair with a long sigh.

  Cadde stared straight at him. “What did Lucky think about this?”

  “Let’s just say she wasn’t happy and asked me to leave.”

  “Listen, Kid.” Cadde used his “board meeting” voice—a rough growl that made everyone pay attention and for once Kid was listening. “If you feel anything for Lucky, stop fighting, especially in her bar. If you don’t care for her, then get the hell out of her life.”

  “I’ve already figured that out myself. I don’t know what I’m feeling at the moment so I’m taking some time off to get my head straight. All my work is updated so I’m outta here.”

  “Where’re you going?” Chance asked.

  He shrugged. “Not sure. Probably spend some time with Aunt Etta and try to talk to Lucky in a nonconfrontational way.”

  “Please leave the headstone alone,” Chance begged, “until Lucky is ready to change it.”

  With his hand on the doorknob, he couldn’t resist teasing his honorable, upright brother. “Oh, Chance, I forgot my key this morning. When I came through the front, Stephanie stopped me and asked if I wanted to go out tonight. She requested that you come along. Her friend is in town and they’d like to do a foursome. I told her I’m busy, but she could certainly call you.”

  “You didn’t! Kid!”

  He took the stairwell and laughed all the way down at the shocked look on Chance’s face. What the hell was wrong with laughter?

  LUCKY SAT ON THE STOOP, having her early morning coffee and talking to Travis on her cell.

  “The cowboys didn’t come in,” she told him.

  “I know. I drove by several times.”

  She gripped the phone. “Travis, don’t you trust me to do my job?”

  “Sure, but when it gets dangerous, I’m going to be there.”

  In a way it was nice he was looking out for her. With Kid around, she might need his help, but she didn’t want it to come with any emotional strings.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, giving in a little.

  “Anyway, the rustlers are on the move. Three registered Brahma cows were taken from the Southern Cross ranch last night.”

  “From Judd Calhoun?” She was shocked. Southern Cross and High Five were the biggest ranches in High Cotton.

  “Yep, and he’s fighting mad.”

  “I bet. The rustlers are getting stupid. To go onto a ranch that size takes nerve. How did they do it?”

  “The east side of the property borders an old county road that closed many years ago. They came down it with a trailer, cut the fence, threw up portable pens and coaxed the cows into it with feed. I’m at the site gathering evidence. The rustling will be in the limelight now because Judd will make it that way.”

  “I know Judd and he’s not going to stand for it.”

  “By my calculations the rustlers have a big herd stashed somewhere in a back wooded area and they’ll try to move it soon.”

  Lucky chewed on her lip. “Tomorrow is Saturday and it’s always a busy night at the bar. I’m sure the stolen Brahmas will be the topic of conversation. I’ll keep my eyes and ears opened.”

  “Good. Call if anything comes up and I’ll drive by the bar later.”

  She sighed. “If you have to.”

  “I’ll be busy here most of the day trying to pacify Judd. Not one damn surveillance camera on this big ranch.”

  “Well, Travis, with armed cowboys I don’t guess he saw the need.”

  “He does now.”

  Lucky clicked off. The rustlers weren’t some petty thieves. This was an established ring of skillfully planned robberies. She had to be extra careful and watch her backside. But most of the time her concentration was on Kid. Any minute she expected him to come flying up the lane in that fancy truck demanding she put his name on the headstone.

  She got up, coffee cup in her hand and glanced toward the hill. Her childhood was buried there, as were all her foolish dreams of first love lasting forever. She didn’t know how to go forward without looking back. Twenty years and she still didn’t know how to do that.

  SATURDAY NIGHT WAS BUSY and Lucky was run off her feet. Thelma Lou came in to help out. After serving a table of six with beer, pretzels and peanuts, Lucky froze. The three cowboys walked in and pushed their way to the bar. She motioned to Bubba Joe who moved closer to them. She’d told him things had gotten out of hand the other night so he’d be prepared. But before either of them could do a thing Kid strolled through the door.

  She didn’t need this tonight.

  With his devil-may-care attitude, he went right up to them, leaning on the bar beside Melvin.

  What was he doing?

  “Hey, guys, I’m glad I ran into you,” he said in his smooth-as-butter voice. “I’m sorry about the other night. I was drunk and thought y’all were ganging up on a woman. When I sobered up, I realized that wasn’t true and I’d just misread the signals. Actually, I’m known for that—making a fool out of myself. The name’s Kid Hardin. How about if I buy y’all a round of drinks? Hell, I’ll buy you two just to prove I’m sincere.”

  “I could have cut you, man,” Melvin snarled.

  “Don’t I know it? That’s how drunk I was. I don’t make good sense when I’m inebriated. Hell, most people would say I don’t make good sense when I’m sober, either.”

  The cowboys laughed.

  “We all get drunk,” Clyde said. “But you came close to getting killed.”

  “Yeah. I still have aches and pains.”

  “Are you getting us a beer or what?” Earl asked.

  What was he doing? Making friends?

  Kid looked around. “It’s busy as a hornet’s nest in here. I’ll get it since Lucky and Bubba Joe are busy.” His eyes met hers and he winked.

  He winked!

  As bold as a rattlesnake he walked around the bar, opened the cooler and pulled out four longnecks. Bubba Joe met him before he could move any farther. They whispered something and then Kid twisted off the tops, setting them in front of the cowboys. After that he yanked out his wallet and handed Bubba some bills.

  “What’s he doing?” she asked Bubba.

  “Being Kid. Who knows?”

  “He’s not licensed to serve beer.”

  “Well, that’s a minor technicality. I say let’
s just leave it alone. He gave me five twenties so they’re set for a while. I’ll watch it closely.”

  And if the night couldn’t get any worse Luther Farley and Frank Gibbons walked in.

  “Damn. This is going to get bad,” Bubba said.

  “Make sure your shotgun is handy.” She moved to the register where her gun was stashed.

  “Hey, Lucky,” a guy called from a back booth, “we need beer.”

  “I’ll get it,” Thelma Lou said. As she grabbed beer out of the cooler, she noticed Kid on the wrong side of the bar. “Hey, who’s the hunk?”

  “Kid Hardin, and he’s fixing to leave.”

  “Damn. I’d like working with that kind of eye candy.”

  “You’re married…and remember Bubba Joe.”

  “So? I’m not dead.”

  Lucky let that pass. She had more important things on her mind. Like how to get Kid out of here without causing a scene. Her stomach roiled with a sick feeling but she ignored it.

  Luther pushed Fred Carter off his bar stool. Fred came up with his fists in the air. “Get another spot,” Luther said.

  “Uh…Luther, I didn’t know it was you.” Since Fred was of a small stature, Luther could pulverize him like a piece of steak. Fred worked for Luther, so he picked up his hat and joined a group at another table.

  Luther eased his big frame onto the stool facing Kid. Lucky edged closer to her gun. No one was fighting in here tonight. She just wished her stomach would settle down.

  “Hey, Luther.” Kid jumped right in. “I’m sorry I hit you last night. I lost my temper. You know I was always doing that in high school.”

  “You never knew how to fight fair.”

  “Hell, man, you were big as an ox and picking on poor Bubba Joe. I had to do something.”

  “You didn’t have to pull down my pants in front of Betty Simmons.”

  “You married her so I don’t see a problem. Maybe she got a glimpse of what she really wanted.”

  A rumble of laughter followed.

  “You’re insane, Hardin.” Luther was trying hard not to smile. “You’ve always been insane.”

  Kid rubbed his hand. “I think I broke my wrist on your steel jaw.”

  “Maybe that’ll teach you to think before you swing.”