Texas Reckless

by Gerry Bartlett

  Texas Reckless

  Also by Gerry Bartlett

  Texas Lightning

  Texas Trouble

  The Texas Heat Series

  Texas Heat

  Texas Fire

  Texas Pride

  Table of Contents

  Also by Gerry Bartlett

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Texas Reckless

  Gerry Bartlett

  LYRICAL PRESS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  LYRICAL PRESS BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2019 by Gerry Bartlett

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Lyrical Press and Lyrical Press logo Reg. US Pat. & TM Off.

  First Electronic Edition: December 2019

  eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0717-9

  eISBN-10: 1-5161-0717-9

  First Print Edition: December 2019

  ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0720-9

  ISBN-10: 1-5161-0720-9

  Printed in the United States of America

  Chapter One

  Rhett Hall was driving too fast and he knew it. Like he was running away. Oh, hell no. He eased off the accelerator. He’d been ready to leave Austin anyway. See more of Texas. So he’d taken off down the first side road he’d come to. Now he was lost and he didn’t give a good goddamn. Not after what had happened with the hot tattoo artist he’d left behind. Dumped. For the first time in his sorry-ass life.

  He glanced at the speedometer. He was pushing ninety again. Lucky for him Texas had generous speed limits. He was on the open road, enjoying the powerful engine in the rented Corvette.

  The blur of something crossing in front of him came out of nowhere. He slammed on the brakes but not soon enough. Whatever it was crashed into the car. He fought to keep out of a creek bed coming up on his right and steered left toward a gravel drive. By the time he rocked to a stop, steam poured from the smashed front end of the car. Busted radiator.

  Rhett turned off the engine and climbed out to see what he’d hit. A deer lay in the road. Shit. He’d killed Bambi. His sister Scarlett would be crying. He felt pretty bad about it himself. He looked both ways, then hurried over to make sure it was dead. Yep. Dead as a doornail, his dad would say. He grabbed its front legs and dragged it out of the road before it caused another wreck. Then he walked back to the once beautiful car. It might as well have joined the deer in heaven.

  He picked up his cell from the front seat. No signal. And not another car in sight. Where the hell was he? The only thing he remembered about that little town with the obscenely low speed limit was that it had one of the biggest Chevy dealerships he’d ever seen, mostly stocked with pickups. He’d left it about ten minutes ago. At the speed he’d been traveling as soon as he’d blown past the city limits, that was way too far to walk.

  At least he’d crashed in front of an impressive stone entrance surrounding an iron gate. There was a call button. He punched it and waited. No answer. Of course not. This was not his day, his week or even his month. The fence on either side of the gate was topped with barbed wire so he’d leave that alone. He had no choice but to climb over the gate. Eight feet. No big deal for a man who worked out.

  Well, usually. Since he’d been in Texas most of his workouts had been with Casey—bike riding, hiking and activities of the horizontal variety. Damn, he didn’t need to think about how great that had been. As it was he’d never be able to forget her, thanks to the tattoo circling his left bicep. He’d been a sucker for l—lust, not love. He wouldn’t admit to that. Not when he’d been kicked to the curb.

  He pocketed his keys and his cell phone and took a running jump at the gate. When he got a good hold of the top rung, he swung a leg over, cursing when he heard a rip. Of course he had on the wrong pants for gymnastics. Now he’d be showing his jewels when he got to wherever this driveway led. He dropped down on the other side and brushed his stinging hands on his thighs.

  The gravel drive was long with a gentle rise. He couldn’t see what he assumed would be a ranch house at the end of it. Brown-and-white cattle grazed on either side of him, held back by more barbed wire. In the distance, buzzards flew over something. Wouldn’t be long before they discovered Bambi. He didn’t want to think about that.

  There were trees scattered around, and most of the cows clustered under their shade. It was hot for May and he was already feeling it. In the distance, oil wells pumped. Perfect Texas scene. He pulled out his phone to remember this with a picture. He’d just stepped on a rock next to the fence for a better angle when he heard hoofbeats. A horse thundered toward him down the drive, its rider wearing a cowboy hat.

  Rhett stayed where he was. He was a trespasser and didn’t know how this rancher would feel about it. He kept his hands out by his sides and a smile on his face, then started to step down from the rock. He figured he’d say something stupid like “I come in peace.”

  “Don’t move!” The rider pulled out a rifle and aimed it at him.

  “Hey!” Rhett froze. Move? Holy crap. Was he going to be killed for jumping onto private property? He waved his phone. “I was just taking a picture. Instagram?” He eased his foot off the rock.

  “I said don’t move!”

  The rifle shot was so loud and close, Rhett fell back. Dirt and rock kicked up inches from his right foot and instinct made him grab the wire fencing with both hands. Shit. The metal barbs bit into his palms.

  “All right. Now jump off the rock and come toward me. Fast. In case that thing has friends.” The rider slid off the horse, gun still aimed in his direction.

  “Thing?” Rhett peeled his wounded hands off the wire and jumped, staggering a little before he hurried in her direction. Yeah, he could see now. The shooter was a woman. She took off her straw cowboy hat and wiped her brow wi
th her sleeve, holding her rifle easily in her other hand.

  “Look at what you almost stepped on.” She gestured with the gun.

  “God.” It was a snake. Or what was left of one. She’d blown its head off.

  “Rattler. Might be a nest of them under there. They like to sleep under rocks like that during the heat of the day.” She frowned at him. “What were you doing climbing over my gate?”

  Rhett’s heart pounded and he had to take a minute. “Uh, car trouble. Tried the call button but nobody answered.”

  “Saw you on the camera. You didn’t wait very long before you went into business for yourself.” She nodded toward the phone Rhett had dropped when he’d grabbed the wire. “Did you call for help?”

  “Couldn’t get cell service.” He knew he should go after his phone, but then if the snake had a family over there…

  “There’s a dead zone outside the gate. Reception’s a problem around here.” To his shame she didn’t hesitate, just walked over, limping slightly in her well-worn cowboy boots. She carefully skirted the rock then plucked the phone out of the grass. Quick-stepping toward him, she wiped it on her jeans.

  “For a minute there, I thought I was in a dead zone.” Rhett forced a laugh. At least he hadn’t wet his pants, but it had been a near thing. Tough guy. Easy to fake in the pages of the fiction he wrote. Facing a rifle? He swallowed, sure he was still pale.

  “Sorry if I scared you, shooting like that. You okay?” She handed the phone to him with a smile.

  “Now that I know you weren’t shooting at me…” Rhett gingerly stuffed the phone in his pocket, then found a smile for her, too. “Rhett Hall.” He offered his hand.

  She looked at it and frowned. “You’re bleeding. I’ll help you take care of that back at the house. My fault. I scared you into grabbing that wire. I really am sorry.” She touched her fingers to his sleeve. “Sierra MacKenzie. What kind of car trouble? You need gas? A tire changed? We can handle that here.”

  “It’s worse than that. I hit a deer. It ran right in front of me. I killed it and it killed the front end of my car.” He shook his head, fascinated by this woman who could shoot like that and had an air of femininity that he couldn’t miss. Her flowered shirt tucked into those worn jeans showed off a nice figure. She had blue eyes that looked him over from head to toe. It made him aware of how he didn’t fit in here. Not yet, anyway.

  She started to say something when there was a honk from the other side of the gate. “Company.” She glanced at her watch. “You’re obviously blocking my gate.” She pulled out a device clipped to her waistband then hit a button, and the gate slowly opened. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

  Rhett followed her as she led the horse out of the way and dropped the reins. He hadn’t thought about blocking anything when he’d come to a stop, just happy to avoid that creek bed. Now a van sat on the shoulder of the road, motor running. Half a dozen kids hung out of the windows, staring at his car.

  “Oh, you really did a number on it.” She left the horse, which stayed obediently while she walked up to the van driver. The man was out of his vehicle, looking over the Corvette. “What do you think, Dale?”

  “Needs a tow. Call Will. He’ll be careful pulling her in.” The man stared at Rhett.

  “Will?” Rhett introduced himself. He showed his bloody palms when Dale extended his hand.

  “What happened?” Dale frowned at Rhett’s wounded hands.

  “Never mind that.” Sierra turned to Rhett. “Put the car in neutral. Will it hurt too much if you steer while Dale and I push this thing out of the way? Inside the fence.”

  “I think I can manage. Who’s Will?” Rhett opened the car door.

  “Will’s the owner of the Chevy dealership in town. If you drove through Muellerville, you saw it.” Dale took up a position behind the car. “He loves Corvettes. He’ll treat it right.”

  “I saw that dealership. Couldn’t miss it.” Rhett didn’t like the idea of Sierra pushing while he didn’t do much more than steer, but he was in no position to argue. His hands were killing him. It was torture enough gripping the steering wheel carefully with his fingertips. Soon she and Dale had the car inside the gate and out of the way.

  “Dale, mind taking Rhett up to the house with the kids? He can use the house phone to call Will.” Sierra stepped up to the van door. “Now I wonder who is going to ride with me up to the barn. Any volunteers?”

  There was a chorus of “me,” but she finally picked a skinny little girl who looked like a brisk wind would blow her away. Sierra quickly put her up in front of her on the horse and they rode away.

  “Guess you’re stuck with me.” Rhett settled in behind the driver next to a quiet little boy. He had dark circles under his eyes, like he had allergies or a sleep problem. His foot never stopped jiggling. It made Rhett wonder about this van loaded with kids. It had a school district logo on the side. Did they have special needs or was she doing charity work? He smiled at the boy. “You excited about riding?”

  “It’s okay.” The boy stared solemnly out the window. A buzzard had moved in and was picking at the snake carcass. “What’s that?” He pointed at it.

  “Sierra shot that snake. She said it was a rattlesnake. I stood on a rock to take a picture then almost stepped on it.” Rhett shook his head. “I come from a city back east. Boston. This is all new to me. What about you?”

  “I grew up around here. I know better than to mess with a rattlesnake.” He frowned at Rhett. “Sierra’s a good shot, then.”

  “Yes. She scared the, uh, stuffing out of me.” Rhett saw a low-slung ranch house straight ahead. It was nice, well kept, with a gleaming pool next to it. There were several outbuildings, including a big barn and a corral with horses in it. Sierra came toward them with the little girl holding her hand. The woman was still limping. Had she hurt herself recently or was it a permanent limp? She slapped her hat against her thigh, her cotton shirt pulling against full breasts. She wore her blond hair short, framing a face dominated by those big blue eyes. She stopped to say something to the girl then looked up at him. Whatever she said made the child giggle. Making fun of the Yankee? Wouldn’t be the first time since he’d arrived in Texas. He could take it.

  * * * *

  “You telling her how you scared the, hmm, stuffing out of me when you shot that snake?”

  “Stuffing? That’s one word for it.” Sierra had just described the scene to Cindy. She shouldn’t laugh. But he’d turned so pale when he’d grabbed that barbed wire, not even flinching when it had cut into his palms. She owed him another apology, she really did.

  “Very funny.” He shook his head. “I’m grateful, but a little warning would have been nice.”

  “You’re lucky I settled for shooting the snake. You did climb over my front gate. How was I to know what you were after? In fact, I still don’t know if it was smart letting you stay here.” It aggravated Sierra that she had to be suspicious of strangers, but things had been happening lately that had made her cautious. “We have security for a reason.”

  “You saw my car. You think I killed Bambi on purpose?” He held out his hands as if they were proof of his innocence. “You want me to go stand in the heat next to my car and wait for a tow? I can take my bleeding hands right on down the road. Might be hard to climb back over that gate, but I can probably make it.” He stared down at his palms. “I wonder if my tetanus shot is up to date. But what do you care? I might be dangerous.”

  Sierra could swear he was hiding a smile as he looked at her through some damned long lashes. What color were his eyes? Green? Hazel?

  “Yes, you might be. Of course, I’m armed. Are you?” She looked him up and down. Bad idea. He was tall and built. Exactly her type. No, she wasn’t supposed to be noticing that.

  “You want to frisk me?” His arms were out again. “It would be my pleasure. Go ahead. Check me for hi
dden weapons.” This time he didn’t hide his smile.

  “I think I’ll take the kids on down to the barn.” Dale the van driver looked back and forth between them. “Sierra, I’ll see you down there when you’re ready to ride.” He herded the children ahead of him. “I talked to Darrel. He said there’s a new calf and a foal. Let’s go see the baby horse, kids! I wonder if it looks like its mama.” That got a cheer from the crowd and they hurried away.

  “You might as well come inside. You need to clean and disinfect your hands. Barbed wire can be dangerous. You may need a tetanus shot if you haven’t had one lately.” Sierra didn’t like the fact that she sounded surly. All she needed was a lawsuit from this city slicker in loafers and no socks.

  “It hurts like hell, too. But, don’t worry, I just remembered—I’ve had my shots. I won’t be suing you.” He grinned at her like she should be charmed. He reminded her of one of her brother’s friends in Houston, the kind Mason kept trying to set her up with for a date. Definitely the city-guy type—tall, toned and neatly pressed in something he’d probably picked up at Neiman’s. He looked like he was ready for a cookout at the ranch. Spare me.

  “Gee, thanks. I’m sure you would have a strong case. Seeing as how you were trespassing at the time.” Sierra shook her head. “Look. I’m sorry I scared you, but it was a shoot first, talk later situation. You’d be in a world of hurt if I’d let that rattler strike.” Sierra pushed into the kitchen. “Sit down. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

  “I’m sorry about the deer. It was a beautiful animal. I tried to stop, but I was going too fast and it came out of nowhere.” He settled at the kitchen island, his bloody hands out in front of him, palms up.

  “It happens. Deer are fast. Nothing you can do when they take a notion to run in front of you.” She liked the fact that he’d appreciated the deer’s beauty. Points for him. “The car’s front end looked bad. That’ll take a while to repair.” She soaked a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide and started dabbing at the mess on his palms. He hissed at the pain. “Sorry.”