Kael (Texas Rascals, #6)

by Lori Wilde

  could be counted upon to remain the same.

  The rebellious streak that had been a part of him since

  childhood egged Kael on. It was that wild streak that had

  driven him to seek his fortune tempting fate. The same

  streak that had prodded him to make a name for himself

  and prove to the world he was more than Chet Carmody’s

  pampered son.

  Desperate to blur the hurt stirred up by Daisy’s rejection,

  Kael kick-started the motorcycle and flagrantly ignored the

  pain shooting up his leg.

  A familiar thrill rumbled through him. A thrill he hadn’t

  experienced since New Year’s Day when the Texas Tor-

  nado had tromped him into the arena dirt.

  Kael gunned the machine and started off across the dry

  pasture.

  Even though it was early May the drought had already

  taken a toll on the withered grassland. Long stalks that

  should have been bright green were parched yellow instead.

  Grasshoppers leaped from beneath his tires as he blasted

  across the field. The sun beat down, hot and relentless. Gulf

  breezes did nothing to alleviate the heat, seemed, in fact,

  to agitate the air with heavy humidity.

  Sweat trickled down the hollow of Kael’s throat. Grass

  slapped against his thighs. His left knee ached but he ig-

  nored the discomfort. He wanted to ride fast enough to

  eradicate all thoughts of Daisy Hightower from his mind.

  Increasing his speed, Kael traveled along the fence line

  dividing his property from Daisy’s. The smell of honey

  mingled with the scent of white clover and alfalfa.

  He roared through the alfalfa field, stirring up honey bees

  as he went. His parents had been watering the crop, oth-

  erwise Daisy’s bees would have had little to feed upon.

  Daisy’s bees. Kael briefly shut his eyes and swallowed.

  In that short flash he saw her. Standing before him, covered

  in bees, a smile on her face, honeycomb dripping from her

  hand. She’d been sixteen to his eighteen, and he’d been

  completely smitten with her.

  She’d seemed so brave, so fearless. Just like he did when

  he was on a bull’s back. It was only later that she taught

  him the secret that allowed her to stick her hand into the

  hive without being stung.

  He’d never known another woman like her. Not before,

  not since. Daisy Hightower was one of a kind. Brave, in-

  dependent, opinionated, strong, capable and stunningly

  beautiful. She accepted no excuses, made no allowances

  for herself or anyone else. When her parents had been

  killed, she’d taken over running the farm without a misstep.

  She harnessed herself to hard work and responsibility like

  a horse to a plow.

  Exactly his opposite. Responsibility had always seemed

  like a prison to Kael. He recalled the words Daisy had

  hurled at him during their last fight. She’d called him a

  coward. Had she been right?

  He’d told himself he was pursuing his dream, making his

  mark on the world and accepting the wanderlust that

  gripped him. Had he in truth been running from commit-

  ment? Had his love for Daisy been so strong he feared the

  power and used bull riding as a convenient excuse to escape

  the intensity of his feelings?

  Stop thinking about the past.

  Kael gunned the motorcycle, revving the engine higher,

  faster, until the alfalfa flashed before him, a yellow blur.

  The sun scorched his skin, the ground, the air.

  Sparks flew from the exhaust.

  Bees circled, irritated by his maneuverings.

  Kael swung the Harley in a wide circle, made another

  pass through the alfalfa. Perspiration coated his whole

  body, and he reveled in the sensation. He liked the sensa-

  tion. Dirt, sweat, dust, speed. It reminded him of the rodeo.

  A white cloud rose from the fodder field.

  Kael narrowed his eyes, frowned. What the hell?

  Smoke.

  No mistaking the odor.

  The cloud billowed and spiraled, spreading quickly

  throughout the tall hay.

  Panic, hard and sudden, slammed into Kael’s stomach.

  Sparks from the exhaust must have caught the pasture on

  fire! Stunned, he pulled his Harley to a stop, idled the en-

  gine and watched.

  The air filled with frantic bees, diving, swarming, buzz-

  ing in a thousand directions desperate to escape the fire,

  but they were dulled by smoke.

  Daisy’s bees! They couldn’t endure prolonged exposure

  to the intense heat. His heart dropped.

  Bright orange flames licked at the alfalfa, rising higher.

  Kael stared in horror as the bees struggled to keep flying

  then, bunch by bunch, tumbled headlong from the sky.

  Oh, Lord, what had he done?

  ‘ ‘Do you smell something?’ ’ Aunt Peavy asked, her nose

  twitching as she sniffed the air.

  “No.” Daisy studied the ledger spread out before her.

  She was sitting on the back porch, taking advantage of the

  noonday shade offered by a palm tree, while Aunt Peavy

  hung towels on the clothesline.

  Taking a sip of fresh-squeezed lemonade, Daisy frowned

  at the book. Unfortunately, figures didn’t lie. Hightower

  Honey Farm was in serious financial straits. If they

  scrimped and saved and nothing unforeseen happened, they

  could survive this disastrous season. But just barely. By

  winter, if she were very careful, she might have enough

  money to purchase a few new bee colonies.

  “I definitely smell smoke,” Aunt Peavy insisted. “The

  Lord might have given me poor eyesight, but he made up

  for it by blessing me with a strong sniffer. Take a deep

  whiff, Daisy, and tell me I’m not imagining things.”

  To humor her aunt, Daisy laid down her ledger and in-

  haled deeply. “Auntie, I don’t—” She stopped short.

  Hmm, there was a hint of acrid smoke in the air. It wasn’t

  surprising if something had caught fire considering the pro-

  longed drought and the relentless heat.

  “You think somebody’s burning trash?”

  “Surely not. There’s been a bum ban on for three

  weeks.”

  Aunt Peavy paused, a clothespin in her mouth, a pair of

  Travis’s underwear in her hand. “It’s close,” she whis-

  pered. “Real close.”

  Daisy dropped the ledger and sprang to her feet. Shading

  her eyes with her hand, she scanned the horizon.

  There. South. Toward the Carmody ranch. A smoke col-

  umn chugged skyward.

  Aunt Peavy was right. The fire was close. Right in the

  Carmodys’ alfalfa field which bordered her apiary. The

  bees loved pollinating in the sweet fodder. This time of day

  they’d be out collecting nectar.

  Sudden fear flooded her body, bathing Daisy in a cold

  sweat. Not the bees!

  Her knees swayed. No. She couldn’t give in to panic.

  Clenching her jaw, she started across the yard, her legs

  churning as she ran.

  Please God, don't let the bees get hurt.

  A fire engine wailed in the distance.
Her pulse galloped,

  her eyes were glued to the sky. She saw a heavy swarm

  converge high above the alfalfa field.

  Fly home, fly home, she silently urged, but in her heart

  she knew it was too late. The bees were too near the heat

  The closer she got, the thicker the smoke grew. Daisy

  coughed, tasted exhaust fumes. Her side ached, and her

  eyes burned.

  The swarm appeared shaky. They weaved and dipped as

  if they were having difficulty flying.

  Anxiety had her biting down on her knuckles. This could

  not be happening!

  The fire engines drew closer, the plaintive wail growing

  louder accentuating Daisy’s anguish.

  She reached the fence separating her property from the

  Carmodys’ place. Gripping the fence post in both hands,

  Daisy stared at the fire crackling just three hundred yards

  away. The blaze licked hungrily at the alfalfa stalks, pro-

  gressing steadily northward toward her land and her pre-

  cious bees.

  Helplessly she watched as her bees tried to form swarms

  but got caught in the heated updrafts. They circled slug-

  gishly then disappeared into the thickening smoke.

  No, no, no!

  Her bees were doomed and she knew it. Daisy moaned

  and clasped her hands to her ears, trying hard to deny the

  carnage occurring before her eyes.

  Her nose burned. Her throat felt raw and swollen. She

  coughed and blinked.

  A figure emerged from the smoke. A man. Beating at

  the flames with a blanket. Daisy squinted, coughed again.

  Kael.

  Daisy crawled over the fence. Ducking her head, she

  edged closer to the inferno. Heat waves shimmered in front

  of her face. The fire snapped and rustled. The air exploded

  with the odor of burning alfalfa.

  “Daisy!” Kael shouted.

  She looked up.

  “Go back.” He waved her away. His face was red and

  covered in soot.

  “It’s useless.” She reached out and grabbed his shirt,

  pulling him backward. “Stop before you get hurt.”

  A grim expression marred his handsome features, and

  Daisy suppressed the urge to hug him. Why did she have

  this crazy desire to comfort him? Kael would lose nothing

  more than a few alfalfa plants. And with his money, that

  was a drop in the bucket, whereas she had lost her bees

  and her entire livelihood.

  He tugged away from her. “I’ve got to put out the fire.

  It’s killing your bees.”

  “Too late,” she replied.

  Sweat mingled with the soot on his face, streaking his

  cheek black. He clutched the battered horse blanket in one

  hand and stared desolately at the widening area of destruc-

  tion.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

  “It’s not your fault,” she soothed.

  “Kael! Daisy!”

  Shouts drew their attention behind them as a mob of

  people, including Kael’s parents, ran toward them. A quar-

  ter of a mile away, Daisy could see the volunteer fire truck

  turning into the Carmodys’ driveway.

  The wind changed and blew smoke into their faces.

  Daisy was coughing almost continuously.

  “Come on, let’s get back.” Kael took her elbow and

  propelled her toward the gathering crowd several feet be-

  hind them.

  She leaned against his chest and he brushed the hair from

  her face. She blinked, and peered at the people surrounding

  them.

  Daisy labored to draw in a breath. Her bees were dead.

  Gone just as surely as her mother and father and Rose.

  Slipping from Kael’s grasp, she slumped to her knees,

  completely exhausted. Someone laid a comforting hand on

  her shoulder, but Daisy wasn’t comforted.

  The fire trucks bumped across the field. Volunteer fire-

  men scurried like ants, battling the blaze.

  Looking up, she saw Kael and his father join the fire-

  fighters.

  “Here’s some water.” Kael’s mother squatted next to

  Daisy.

  Daisy took the proffered glass and swallowed thirstily.

  Neela Carmody gifted her with a sympathetic smile. The

  woman looked as if she’d stepped from a ritzy catalog in

  her crisp white blouse, white linen pants and expensive

  Italian sandals. Kael’s mother always wore the most fash-

  ionable clothes and never had a hair out of place. She was

  chic, dapper, sophisticated, everything Daisy was not.

  “What happened?” the older woman asked.

  Swiping her sleeve against her forehead, Daisy pushed

  her bangs from her eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know. Aunt

  Peavy smelled smoke. I spotted the fire in your alfalfa field.

  When I got here, Kael was trying to put it out with a horse

  blanket.”

  ‘ ‘Did it get to your bees?’ ’ Neela Carmody lifted a con-

  cerned hand to her mouth.

  Daisy nodded.

  “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I know how important your

  bees are to you.”

  “Thanks,” Daisy said hoarsely. Important was an un-

  derstatement. They were vital, essential, necessary for the

  survival of Hightower Honey Farm.

  “If there’s anything Chet or I can do, please don’t hes-

  itate to ask.”

  “Okay,” Daisy said, knowing full well she’d never ask

  these kind people for anything.

  “I mean, with Kael being home and all...” Neela al-

  lowed her words to trail off as if realizing how silly she

  sounded.

  ‘ ‘Everything is over between Kael and me. Has been for

  a very long time.”

  “I know that. I just thought, well...to tell you the truth,

  Daisy, I’m worried about his mental health. You know he

  hasn’t been the same since the accident. He’s brooding and

  moody. Not at all like his usual self.”

  From what Daisy had seen of him yesterday, Kael had

  appeared perfectly fine. More than fine. Exquisite. Superb.

  Magnificent.

  “I thought it might be nice if Kael had some old friends

  he could turn to for moral support.”

  Daisy shook her head. “That’s not such a great idea. I’m

  sure Kael’s got plenty of other friends in Rascal.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Neela Carmody sighed, stood

  up and gazed at the firefighters through her pricey sun-

  glasses.

  Daisy felt a little odd, sitting here talking to Kael’s mom.

  Even though they lived next door to each other, she rarely

  saw the Carmodys. They kept a condo in Corpus, letting a

  manager oversee their ranch. They moved in different eco-

  nomic circles, making it unlikely that they would often

  cross paths.

  It hadn’t been hard avoiding Kael’s parents, Daisy was

  so busy and not much of a socializer to begin with. Their

  occasional contact consisted of a low-key exchange of

  pleasantries whenever they met in town, or a friendly wave

  when they passed on the road. The Carmodys were nice

  folks, and she hated the rift that had been created between

  the two families, but the last thing sh
e wanted was to re-

  sume a personal relationship with them.

  Daisy watched glumly as the firemen gradually got the

  blaze under control. At least it hadn’t crossed the fence onto

  her property. But it really didn’t matter. Her bees had been

  wiped out.

  What was she going to do now?

  Glancing at the ground, Daisy spied a bee carcass. Her

  bottom lip trembled. Reaching down she scooped up the

  damaged insect and cradled the poor thing in her palm.

  Gulping back the tears burning her eyelids, Daisy stared

  at the creature that had worked so hard to make honey for

  her.

  “Are you all right?” Neela asked.

  “Yeah,” Daisy lied.

  It seemed life was always dishing her up a bowl of fer-

  tilizer. She wanted to leave but she didn’t have enough

  energy to get up and go home. Telling Aunt Peavy about

  the bees would require more strength than she possessed at

  this moment.

  The fire chief, Kael and Chet Carmody walked over to

  them. Daisy noticed Kael limped heavily. Her heart lurched

  at the sight.

  “I think it’s under control, Mrs. Carmody.” The ruddy-

  faced fireman wiped at his face with a cloth.

  “Thank you, Jim. We surely appreciate your quick re-

  sponse.”

  “We do our best.” He doffed his hat.

  “Yes.” Kael clasped the man’s hand. “Thank you.”

  “Got any idea what started this fire?” Jim looked from

  Kael to his father and back again. “You folks know there’s

  a bum ban on, dontcha?”

  “We’ve no idea how the fire started.” Mr. Carmody

  shook his head. “We were entertaining guests.”

  “I do,” Kael admitted grimly. His jaw clenched as all

  eyes swung his way. “I caused it.”

  A gasp rose from everyone gathered. Daisy stared. Had

  she heard him correctly? Kael had started the blaze that

  killed her bees?

  “I was riding my motorcycle through the field. Appar-

  ently the exhaust sparked and caught the dry grass.”

  His words sent an unspeakable rage spurting throughout

  her whole body. Unbelievable! Trembling, Daisy rose to

  her feet. She should have known! Here she’d been feeling

  sorry for him, worrying about his limp and his mental

  health, while he’d stupidly been gallivanting about on a

  motorcycle. Obviously the bull riding accident he’d suf-