Texas Reckless

by Gerry Bartlett

  “If it’s meant to be…” he sang.

  If only.

  * * * *

  The Wagon Wheel was packed. The full parking lot made it clear this was a popular place. Rhett could feel all eyes following them as they headed for their corner table. Sierra stopped and spoke to several people before the hostess finally got them seated.

  “Something smells good.” He inhaled and felt his taste buds do a happy dance. Somewhere nearby, steaks were on a grill.

  Sierra smiled. “You’re smelling mesquite wood on the fire. It can make my eyes burn if it gets too strong, but it makes a steak taste good.” She pointed to the menu, which was heavy on grass-fed beef. “I’d recommend the ribeye.”

  “Sounds good. Medium rare for me.” He smiled at her across the candlelit table. She had put on makeup, a subtle amount that suited her. She wore a clingy top that dipped low enough for him to appreciate her feminine curves. The bright red looked perfect with her blond hair and tan.

  “Let me order some of the sides they’re famous for—jalapeno creamed corn and au gratin potatoes. You’ll love them.” She smiled at the waitress who brought them a basket of yeast rolls. “Marty, hi. I hoped we’d get your table. How’s Buddy?”

  “Fine. Working himself to death.” The waitress was a pretty brunette in a green-checked shirt and jeans.

  “Marty, this is Rhett Hall. He’ll be staying with me for a while.”

  “Oh, really? Good for you, girl. About time.” Marty winked. “What can I get you to drink? We’ve got a fine selection of Texas wines.”

  “What do you say, Rhett? You want to try one?” Sierra grinned at him, clearly in her element here.

  “I’ll bring you a cabernet from Caldwell that’s supposed to be really good with steak. You are having steak, aren’t you?”

  “Of course. Nice to meet you, Marty. I’d like to try a Texas wine.” Rhett picked up Sierra’s hand. He didn’t mind being linked with Sierra. Why not play along? She didn’t jerk her hand away.

  As soon as Marty left, he picked up a roll and buttered it. Of course Sierra was staring a hole in him. “What?”

  “Hand-holding? Are you going to pretend to be my boyfriend while you’re here instead of admitting you’re a writer doing research?”

  “Would you go along with that?” He offered her half the roll. “I didn’t see you deny Marty’s assumption.”

  She took the roll and bit into it. When butter glistened on her lips, it was all he could do not to lean forward and add another element to this show. Yes, he’d like to lick that away, take it deeper, experience the taste of her. She must have seen his thoughts in his eyes, because she finished the roll, then wiped her mouth thoroughly with her cloth napkin.

  “I don’t need to tell the world my business. Let them think what they want. You and I know the truth. You’re paying for the privilege to stay with me. Period. No bedroom access included.” She picked up her water glass and drank deeply.

  “If people thought I was your significant other, it might make it easier for me to ask around, get information.” Rhett smiled at her raised eyebrow.

  “I told you, I’m an outsider here. Being connected to me won’t buy you any access.” She looked up as Marty approached with the wine bottle and showed Rhett the label. “Trust me on that.”

  Rhett ignored her, getting into the act of approving the wine selection, watching Marty open the bottle and sniffing the cork. “Seems good.” He tasted the sample. “Nice. Should go well with steak.” He held out his glass to Sierra. “What do you think, honey?”

  She rolled her eyes but took the glass and tasted. “Good, Marty. Pour it.”

  They ordered, then sat back to watch the crowd. It was a full house and people were dressed up. A small Texas town didn’t go for suits and ties, though a few men wore them.

  “Sierra MacKenzie, you have a nerve, showing up here.” A man in a jacket over his jeans slapped a cowboy hat against his thigh as he knocked against the table, making their glasses rattle.

  “Randy, you’re drunk. Go home and sober up.” Marty grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away. “Sorry, Sierra.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not until I’ve had my say.” He bumped the table again and this time their wine bottle swayed and would have hit the floor if Rhett hadn’t caught it.

  “You’d do well to listen to the lady. Take off.” He stood and faced the man. They were about the same height, and he could smell the beer on the man’s breath. “You’re making a scene.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” The guy pushed Rhett with a beefy hand on his chest.

  “Big mistake, bud.” Rhett handed Marty the bottle and gripped the man’s hand, twisting it until it was behind the bozo’s back. He had the element of surprise and sobriety. Before the guy could wind up and make a fist, he’d walked him fast toward the front door. “Say one more word, Randy, and we can finish this outside.”

  “The hell you say.” Apparently Randy had the idea that he was going to prove he was a badass. Rhett just shoved him out the door and onto the gravel parking lot, where he landed facedown.

  “Get up and I’ll be happy to give you a lesson in how to speak to a lady.” Rhett watched the man roll over.

  “Lady? The bitch is holding us all hostage. Making us wait while she—” He fumbled at his waist.

  Rhett knew that move and stepped on the other man’s wrist before Randy could pull out his gun. Open carry. Texas was nothing if not gun friendly.

  “Ow! Shit! Get off my arm!” Randy struggled to get his hand free.

  “No way in hell.” Rhett leaned harder, his foot firmly on the forearm. “You want a broken wrist?”

  “I called the police. They should be here any minute.” Marty hovered behind him. “I’m real sorry about this. Randy and his pals in the chamber of commerce have a lot riding on that senior citizen land deal. You know about that?” She looked up when a sheriff’s car with lights and siren pulled into the parking lot. Small town, quick service.

  “A little.” Rhett nodded at the deputy, who took one look at the man on the ground and got out his handcuffs.

  “Sierra needs to reconsider selling. A lot of people want that deal to go through. The town is dying otherwise. Just saying.” She turned and told the deputy that Randy had made a drunken fool of himself. Apparently it wasn’t the first time. The deputy disarmed the man on the ground then took a brief statement from Rhett before he let him return to the dining room.

  Sierra still sat where he’d left her. She’d made good progress on that bottle of wine.

  “Randy is on his way to jail.” Rhett sat back in his chair and picked up his own glass of wine. “He can sober up there. Are you okay?”

  “Am I?” She looked up at him with stricken eyes. “How about you? He shoved you. Then the way you handled him…” She took a drink. “I can’t believe I just sat here. Frozen. I should have jumped up, confronted him. Defended myself. Not let you do it.”

  “Hey, I got to pull out my man card. Show you I’m not just a writer but a doer. Were you impressed?” He was determined to lighten the mood. Sierra MacKenzie took way too much on herself. He’d already figured that out. And why the hell should she be blamed for the problems of a dying town? Let them figure out their own solutions.

  “Very impressed.” She finally smiled. “I’m really sorry about that. Randy Cox owns the local Quik Stop. He’s one of several small-business owners who would benefit if we had that senior living deal go through.” She looked him over. “You didn’t answer me. Are you okay? That move you made looked like you’d had law enforcement training or something. I didn’t see that in your background.”

  “Did you worry about me?” Rhett smiled. “You can see that I’m fine. Didn’t even break a sweat. I took a course in self-defense as research for one of my books. Did a ride-along with cops in Boston as well. It comes in ha
ndy when I have to write a fight scene. I’ve had to use it in every book.” He glanced around the room. “Anyone else here going to attack us?”

  “Maybe. I hope not.” She drained her glass, then waited while Rhett gave her a refill. At this rate they might need another bottle. “Let me explain why Muellerville is getting this attention all of a sudden. Why the development company isn’t likely to give up. This town has a unique geographic location. It’s why my dad bought the ranch so many years ago.”

  “What do you mean?” Rhett leaned in. He wished he could bring out his cell and record this conversation. But he’d remember. He was finding anything this woman said memorable.

  “We’re exactly ninety miles from Houston, ninety from San Antonio and the same from Austin.” She put down her glass. “Three major cities and each only an hour and a half away. The roads are good, speed limits are high, and people don’t seem to think anything of driving that far for a weekend getaway or a good meal these days. Not in Texas anyway.” She looked around. “I bet there are people from Austin here right now for a Saturday night out.”

  “You’re probably right. There’s a huge population of aging baby boomers from all three cities who might be interested in a retirement community here. That’s genius, actually. Especially if you add some amenities that the demographic might like.” Rhett’s mind was clicking on all cylinders. Hey, he’d even like to invest in a project like that. Though he sure wouldn’t tell Sierra that.

  “I know! Trust me, I’ve heard the sales pitch.” She drained her glass again.

  “You could benefit from being in close proximity to such a project, Sierra. Forget the cattle and expand into a kind of bed-and-breakfast thing for visitors to the seniors. Or rent out the horses. Offer rides to the grandkids who’ll come to visit.” Rhett couldn’t contain himself. Then he saw her face. Bad move.

  “Would you quit being so damned logical?” She threw down her napkin. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. I’m sure our steaks will come while I’m gone.” She stormed off in the direction of the restroom sign on the far wall.

  “Well, hell.” Rhett refilled his own glass.

  “Steaks will be out in a moment. Another bottle of wine?” Marty arrived when he flagged her down. “Sierra didn’t look happy.”

  “She’s not. I talked to her about that senior living project. She won’t sell. She loves her place.” Rhett stopped Marty with a hand on her arm after he ordered a second bottle. “How do you feel about this proposed project?”

  “I’m for it.” Marty bit her lip. “Sierra does love her place and her horses and makes sure everyone knows it. But do you have any idea what a big deal this would be? How many jobs it would bring to a town that has a pitiful few?”

  “I’d have to look into it.” Which Rhett planned to do as soon as he got back to his laptop.

  “My husband has an auto repair shop. His only competition is the Chevy dealership. Imagine hundreds of seniors living in the area. Many of them drive foreign cars. Buddy can work on Hondas, Toyotas, you name it.” She laughed. “Hell, I’d be able to quit this gig and stay home for a change. I can see it now.”

  “You’re right. It would be a boon. But years away from completion, Marty.” Rhett could imagine what Sierra would face if she was the spike in the road.

  “I could wait if I knew something good was coming. Besides, the construction workers would be here in the meantime, doing business with all of us.” She leaned in. “I love Sierra, but if she fucks this up?” She looked around. “She won’t have a friend in this town. And that’s the truth.” She hurried off when she saw Sierra coming out of the restroom.

  Rhett stood when Sierra approached the table. Damn. This put a new light on her problem. She had to live in this town, and what she wanted might just make her public enemy number one. He had some research to do. That was obvious.

  Marty approached carrying a tray loaded with their plates and two bowls of side dishes. The smell was enough to lighten his mood. At least temporarily. But not for long. Not even some of the best food he’d ever eaten could take his mind off the trouble Sierra might have ahead of her. He was definitely staying. How could he get lost in a fictional tale when the real one around him was so damned interesting?

  Chapter Six

  When they got to her gate, Sierra gave him the code without hesitation. Probably not smart but she had agreed to let him stay. Besides, she was just tipsy enough that she didn’t dare walk around the SUV to put in the code herself. At the house he parked his rental where she told him to, then helped her out of the car.

  “Thank you for dinner; you didn’t have to do that.” Sierra gave him her hand then let him keep it as he walked her across the gravel drive to the back door.

  “I have to thank you. The Wagon Wheel had great food and more Texas characters.” He stood aside while she tried to unlock the door. “You need help with that?”

  “Here.” Sierra had to admit the wine had gotten the better of her. “You unlock it. I’ll get you your own key tomorrow. I hate that I have to lock up at all. We didn’t used to do it, but with the cows dying and fence problems, I got paranoid.” She leaned against the porch post. “My brother put in the security system at the gate and everywhere else he thought I needed it. We’ve got alarms all over the place.” When she gestured she lost her balance and fell into Rhett, gripping his muscular arm.

  “Hey, careful.” He grinned down at her as he steadied her then flung the door open. “Same code here?” The whine of the alarm in the house started as soon as the door opened. His smile in the light next to the back door was part amused, part interested. Good for her ego.

  “Sure. See if you remember it.” All that wine. No wonder Rhett was looking good to her.

  “Got it.”

  She smiled up at him when the alarm beeped then went silent. “Maybe I should be more suspicious of you, showing up like you did.”

  “I’m innocent, I swear it.” He left her propped against the kitchen island then turned and threw the dead bolt. “Scratch that. Not exactly innocent, but I’m not here to work on you to sell this place.” He took her purse from her hand and set it on the counter. “This ranch suits you. You want to keep it? You should.”

  “Thanks, Rhett. I wish everyone agreed with you.” Sierra leaned against the hard stone and gazed up at him. She couldn’t let herself be a fool for a good-looking man.

  Now that she thought about it, this coincidence was a little too good to be true. Hot guy landing on her doorstep. Yes, she’d had him checked out, but clever people faked that stuff all the time. The internet could be manipulated. She’d seen it happen on a TV show, that one about…

  “Your eyes are closing.” He laughed and gently steered her down the hall toward her bedroom. “I think you’ve had a long day.”

  “I have.” She was tired. Through the haze of good wine and good food, she felt a bone-deep exhaustion. He was taking care of her. Nice.

  He found her bedroom at the end of the hall, helped her kick off her shoes—had he noticed she’d tortured herself with heels?—and brought her a glass of water from her bathroom.

  “Drink. It’ll help the inevitable hangover tomorrow.” He pulled back her comforter, and she sat on the side of the bed. “Want me to stay?” He put on a hopeful look, but she somehow knew he was teasing.

  “No, thanks.” Sierra gulped down water. “I’ll be fine. Just…need sleep. See you in the morning.” She waited until he left, shutting the door behind him. She had to get out of her tight skirt. Managed that. Pulled on boxers and a T-shirt, then slid under clean sheets. Bless Rachel for that. The housekeeper wouldn’t be here tomorrow. Sunday. Darrel would do morning chores. Sierra’s day off too. She drifted into sleep thinking about a man who had been a gentleman. Maybe too much of one.

  A screeching siren jerked Sierra out of a deep sleep. Pounding nearby before her bedroom door burst open.
/>   “Your barn is on fire!” Rhett shouted, tossing a robe at her.

  “My horses!” Sierra jumped to her feet, pushing past him as she ran for the back door. Boots. Her barn boots sat next to the door, and she thrust her bare feet into them. Then she was outside, shoving her arms into the robe but not bothering to tie it. She could smell the smoke now, hear the terrified screams of her horses. God. Flames lit the night sky. She realized Rhett ran next to her.

  “I called 9-1-1. Hit the remote to open the gate by the highway.” He shouted that in her ear as they ran. The doors were open and Darrel met them, pulling two of the horses out of the barn. The whites of the horses’ eyes were showing as they cried out and tugged at the leads.

  “What happened? What started this?” Sierra’s eyes stung as she grabbed the leads while Darrel opened the corral gate. “Darrel!”

  “I don’t know. Fire alarm went off and woke me up. I came running. Back wall is on fire. Give me those leads.” Her ranch hand, the only one to live in the bunkhouse, snatched the lead and pulled Charley into the corral.

  Sierra led Rex, her favorite mount, inside, then took a moment to lean against him. No, she didn’t have time for this, though she felt his trembling and heard his labored breathing. A final pat and she hurried back toward the barn. It took everything in her to face the heat and smoke.

  “Fire’s too much for a watering hose. Horses come first.” Coughing and gasping for breath, Darrel wiped off his filthy face then grabbed a couple of empty feed sacks from a stack inside the barn door. He sprayed them with the hose he must have turned on when he first heard the fire alarm. Then he turned the hose on himself. “Going back in.”

  “Right behind you. We have to hurry.” Sierra swallowed nausea, thrust the hose into the horse trough, then picked up sacks and wet them before she ran inside. God, the horses’ screams. She’d hear them forever in her nightmares. There were still six more geldings and a stallion in there, but the mare and her foal were in the stall closest to the dangerous back wall. She had to get to them first. The heat and a wall of smoke hit her as soon as she got inside. She stumbled to a halt. The frantic kicks of horses trapped in their stalls went straight to her heart. They would die if she didn’t move fast. No time for her to doubt if she could do it.