After nearly an hour, her phone rang.
Schmiddy scowled at her as Ryder shifted but fell back asleep.
She pressed “Answer” and ran back into the bathroom, closing the door. “Hello, Mom?”
“Why are you whispering?” her mother whispered.
“Ryder’s sleeping.”
“Ooooh. You got that far already? Good for you. He’s a hottie.”
“No, Mom. We’re not in bed. We’re on his plane, chaperoned by his bad-tempered bodyguard.”
“Oh. That’s no fun.” She laughed. “Well, here’s some bad news. McCrae called Terry and told him to cancel the money wire. He’d gotten his mother to send him a few thousand and he’s heading out of Illinois.”
Brooke’s head dropped. “Goddamnit. How the fuck does he always manage to slip through every tricky spot?”
“He’s a snake, that’s why. But don’t tell Terry I said that.” She made a sad sound. “I’m sorry, dear. It was worth a try.”
“Yes, it was. Thanks for your help. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll try to figure out something else.”
“K. Bye.”
Brooke stood in the tiny bathroom a few minutes trying to figure out what to do next. She didn’t want to wake Ryder. When she opened the door, Schmiddy’s head popped up in his seat on the other end of the plane. She waved him back to the bathroom.
He shook his head very slowly.
She popped her eyes wide, and made the motions more urgent.
He glared at her for a moment but finally got up off his chair, tiptoeing past Ryder to stand at the bathroom door. The tiptoeing threatened to make Brooke giggle, but she stifled it.
Waving him in, she stood back.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” He whispered the words.
She scrunched into the corner between the sink and the wall. “Hurry up.”
The big man dipped his head and maneuvered his body into the small space, closing the door behind him.
The sight of him mashed into the tiny room finally broke her down and she let go and chuckled a few times. “I just wanted to say hi, and ask how you’re doing.”
The growl he let out nearly shattered the mirror.
Brooke held up one hand. “Sorry, bad joke. So, McCrae cancelled the money thing, and has left Chicago already. I don’t want to wake Ryder. He looks exhausted. Can you ask the pilot to swing by DC and drop me off?” She knew it was a long shot, but maybe they were running ahead of schedule enough to make the detour.
“Swing. By. DC.” He let out a long breath, as if she had no geographical knowledge whatsoever. “I’ll see what he says.”
“Thank you.” She let him leave the small room first, then slipped out and sat on the couch at the back of the plane.
He knocked on the cockpit door then stood talking to the pilot for a few minutes. When he came back her way, she stood to step into the bathroom, but he shook his head. “No time to bring you to DC.” For such a big guy, he whispered very quietly. “You’ll have to go to South Dakota. Once we get there, Ryder will decide what to do with you.” He curled his upper lip as he said that last part.
She was sorely tempted to poke a finger in his chest and tell him where on her posterior his snarly face could kiss, but she just nodded.
He turned away.
On an impulse she grasped his forearm. “I’m sorry, Schmiddy. I don’t mean to cause trouble for him. Really, I don’t.”
Leveling a narrow-eyed look at her, he bared his teeth. “But you just keep doing it anyway.” He walked away, taking his seat at the front of the plane.
She plopped down on the couch out of his line of vision, and looked out the window at the clusters of lights along their flight path. How had this gotten so messed up? Now she’d be a burden to Ryder.
From now on, she’d handle it herself. There had to be a way to do something that would bring McCrae out of hiding without involving Ryder.
She closed her eyes and ran through five dozen different options.
A hand on her shoulder woke her. Ryder stood over her. “We’re getting close.” His hair stood all on end, and his eyes looked puffy. He yawned. “We missed Chicago, huh?”
She looked out the window. The sun had just cleared the horizon. “Guess so.” She looked toward the front of the plane, imagining Schmiddy having gotten his jollies from telling Ryder the whole story. “Guess you heard why, huh?”
He sat next to her. “Yep. Sorry we couldn’t get you home right away.” He frowned.
She turned to face him. “Ryder, I’ve been doing some thinking. I want to go public with this.” It seemed a little reactionary, but right now, time was slipping away. It wouldn’t be long before she’d have to tell Ryder the whole truth about her song.
“Public?” His voice broke. “What do you mean?”
“I think if I go on the news, tell what happened with the song, show a picture of McCrae, we can flush him out.”
He rested his head back on the cushion. “I don’t know, Brooke. I think we need to talk about this. Get my agent and lawyer involved.”
“No, listen, I’ll leave you completely out of this. Your name won’t even—”
“My name is attached to the song.” He worked his jaw for long moments. “Listen, why don’t you come to the christening with me?”
“Christening?” The word wasn’t something she heard often. “Like, for a baby?”
“Yes, for a baby.” He frowned. “My friend Chase’s little baby girl.” He looked at her clothes. “After we land, we’ll be driving through a fairly big town. We could stop and buy you a dress.”
“A dress.” It’d been a long while since she’d worn one of those. But she didn’t know these people. “I really can’t impose.”
“Reno would love you.” He cocked a brow, looking like he was thinking hard.
“Reno? Is that the baby?”
“No.” He grinned. “The mother.”
Two beeps sounded, and he led her to the main cabin and they buckled in for the landing. The plane touched down with barely a bump.
“It’s settled. You’ll come with me.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Her heart thudded. She’d go just about anywhere with him. “Sure. As long as you help me pick out a dress.”
“Cutie, I wouldn’t miss it.”
Schmiddy growled.
****
After the church service, the small group headed back to Reno’s big A-frame house on farmland outside Rapid City. Just a few friends and family members attended the service, but Chase, Reno, Steele, and Tracy had stared at Brooke when Ryder had shown up at the church with her. Ryder had felt uncomfortable, bringing a stranger to this intimate service, but he’d had no choice.
He glanced at her again. She did look beautiful in her dark green dress and matching pumps. She’d even coordinated jewelry and bought makeup.
At the discount store, Ryder—through his dark sunglasses, and under his baseball cap—had watched her try on three dresses. No one had seen through the disguise. Probably because he’d made Schmiddy stay with the driver in the SUV in the parking lot.
Now, in Reno’s greatroom, Brooke stood a little off to the side, looking around the big house, taking in the rustic furniture and the huge rock fireplace.
Reno sidled up to her, holding a sleeping Joy, and spoke, then the two women wandered toward the back of the house where the bedrooms were located.
“You know, the plus-one on the invitation didn’t mean you had to kidnap a woman to bring with you.” Chase, Ryder’s best friend, and a country music legend, stood next to him, his auburn hair brushed and neat, his dark blue eyes watching Ryder closely.
Ryder tugged the tie from around his neck, pulling it off and shoving it into his suit coat pocket. “Long story.” He had practically kidnapped Brooke, making her think he wanted her with him, while his actual motives were geared more toward self-preservation.
Chase gestured to the front door and the long porch outside. �
��Have a cigar with me.”
Ryder checked the hallway and didn’t see Brooke. He nodded.
On their way out the door, Steele caught up to them. “We going out to talk about Ryder’s new lady?”
Chase grinned. “Yes, we are, buddy.”
Ryder shoved his hands in his pockets. “Not much to tell.”
The three of them sat on wooden chairs at the far end of the porch. Ryder pulled out his fancy lighter and they passed it down the line, each of them lighting up one of the short, narrow cigars Chase smoked.
“You and your damn fire fetish.” Chase looked at the bucking horse etching in the metal lighter. “Is this a new one?”
“Yep.” Ryder accepted the lighter back. The guys had seen his collection of lighters, and frequently commented on how crazy they thought Ryder was. “Number eighty-seven.”
Steele snorted. “Overcompensating for something, but I don’t know what.”
Ryder wouldn’t answer that, although he knew exactly when his obsession had started. He stared out at the empty wheat fields. The late-fall day had turned out sunny and unseasonably warm. It had been a day very similar to this back in Louisiana. He’d been about six when he found an old lighter in a corner of the barn. He’d polished away years of dirt, and kept the thing hidden from his mother under a loose floorboard in his bedroom closet. At first, he didn’t dare think about it, but soon he let his imagination wander, and the lighter suddenly had been his father’s, left there for Ryder to find one day.
“Joy is a beauty.” Steele flicked his ash over the edge of the porch.
Ryder took a breath, grateful his brother’s observation had snapped him out of the daydream. “She is. Pretty as Reno.” Ryder hadn’t gotten a chance to hold the little angel yet, but he’d seen Steele and Tracy holding her, giving each other meaningful looks.
“It won’t be long for you, Steele.” Chase lifted his booted foot and set his ankle on the opposite knee. “Tracy has that gleam in her eye.”
Steele hefted out a breath. “Gotta finish the house first. Get hitched. Then we’ll talk about it.”
Chase gave Ryder a glance. “That’s how you plan it. But it don’t mean that’s how it’ll turn out.”
Ryder smiled. Chase had just found out about his little Joy. And Ryder…hell, he hadn’t planned to wake up on the airplane over South Dakota with Brooke, and sure as shit hadn’t intended to invite her along to the christening today. But the alternative—letting her go off half-crazy and get on a news show with his story—had scared the crap out of him.
The song about his mother—he wanted it to be respectful, solemn. He didn’t want it turned into a media circus. Brooke was hell-bent on revenge and would end up having her mother organize a march on The Capital to find McCrae, if she thought it would help.
“So, who is this woman?” Steele narrowed his gray gaze on Ryder. “And what the hell is she doing here?”
Chapter Seven
Ryder’s back stiffened at Steele’s tone. He didn’t care to have his judgment questioned, even though he was questioning it himself. He leaned forward in his chair, flicking the ashes from his cigar over the porch rail.
Sitting between him and Steele, Chase calmly puffed at his stogie.
Ryder looked directly into Steele’s eyes. “She’s a woman I’ve seen a couple times.” Technically, that was the truth.
“This is family, Ryder. Personal time. You’d better be sure she’s not—”
“I’m sure.” Ryder broke in. But how could he be positive she was what she said she was? Now, his decision to bring her here seemed impetuous. Stupid.
A woman’s voice carried from around the corner of the house. Reno, Tracy, and Brooke appeared, each carrying a glass of champagne as they listened to Reno explain the property lines.
Tracy waved to Steele. “Ladies, should we bother the boys, or should we just keep going as if we didn’t see them?”
Brooke and Reno turned in their direction. Reno’s black hair had grown longer since the last time Ryder had seen her, but motherhood and marriage suited her. She looked perfectly happy.
“Let’s say hi for a minute.” Reno led the ladies up onto the porch, and they each stood in front of their man.
“What are you boys talking about?” Tracy leaned her long, thin body on the porch rail and flicked her blonde hair back over her shoulder. “Let me guess. Music?”
Steele shifted his gaze to Brooke. “So, you’re that songwriter?”
Ryder swallowed the smoke he’d drawn into his mouth and coughed it out, loud and violently. How had his brother known?
Tracy leaned forward to look around Reno at Brooke. “You’re a songwriter? How exciting. Have you sold any songs? Of course you have. What’s the last song you sold that’s on the radio?”
Brooke looked like a lamb cornered by a pack of wolves. “Well, the last one, let me see. Probably, uh, on the radio?”
Reno elbowed Tracy. “Way to put her on the spot.” She smiled at Brooke. “I bet you’re the mystery writer who wrote that song with Ryder, the one for his mother. Am I right?”
Ryder gasped for breath, his stomach threatening to heave.
“Guess that answers that question.” Chase grinned and smacked Ryder on the back a couple times.
“Not helping,” Ryder choked out. His brain spun around in his head.
Brooke handed him her glass.
Ryder took it and downed the champagne. “Ack.” He nearly retched. The taste of champagne and tobacco together did not sit well in his belly.
“Come on inside.” Reno took Ryder’s cigar and handed it to Chase, pulled the glass from his hand and set it on the table, then helped him out of the chair and took him with her into the house as if he were a child.
And Ryder was so disoriented, so in need of a bathroom nearby in case his stomach turned inside-out, that he let her.
She linked her arm around his and pulled him into the kitchen. “Here.” She pulled out a chair and set down a piece of bread on a napkin then drew a glass of water. “Drink this and eat the bread to settle your stomach.”
He plopped down on a chair and did as she said. “Reno, I think I screwed up.”
“You mean Brooke?” She sat on a chair across from him.
“I don’t know her that well, and I shouldn’t have risked bringing her here.”
Reno rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “I like her. We had a long bonding talk when I put Joy down for her nap. And I’m a good judge of character.”
“Ha. You married that redheaded bum out there on the porch, and you’re trying to tell me you’re a good judge of character?” Ryder winked.
Reno tipped up her chin. “I invited her to the movie debut next weekend.”
He blinked to clear his head. “You did what?” The last word came out high and loud. Reno and Chase had met when Reno’s screenplay for Prairie Fire had been made into a film, and Chase had been tapped to play a bouncer. The next weekend, the film’s big red-carpet premiere would be taking place in Hollywood. Which meant, photographers, television cameras, interviews.
“And she accepted.” Reno tried for a smile.
“I barely know her.” He couldn’t escort Brooke. And he’d look like an ass if he completely ignored her during the public portions of the event.
“She knows you’ll be working. And she’s okay with just hanging around in the VIP tent.”
“Reno.” He let out a breath which tasted like shit. “I don’t think you want—”
“Aw, damn.” She stared out over his shoulder. “You think what I did was crazy? We just left Brooke alone with Steele.”
He turned and saw Steele, his hand on Brooke’s upper arm, leading her to the other end of the porch. “Oh, shit.”
****
Brooke let Steele take her arm, helping her and her three-inch-heel pumps across the rustic floorboards of the porch. A minute ago, when he’d asked if he could talk to her in private, she, Tracy, and Chase had frozen for a few seconds bef
ore Brooke had forced a smile and nodded.
Now, they reached the far end of the porch and he released her. Even with her heels on, Brooke had to look up at him. In the bright light, his eyes looked like steel with flecks of green. Funny, his cheekbones looked so much like Ryder’s. And his lips and jaw reminded her of Ryder too, in a way.
“You have some questions for me?” She used her meditation techniques to calm herself. This was one of Ryder’s best friends. She had to prepare herself for the worst.
“You claim that your brother stole that song from you.” He watched her face carefully.
“I do claim that, because it’s the truth. My stepbrother is a spoiled brat, and he’s done things like this all his life.” She fisted her hand. “This time, though, he’s not going to get away with it.”
Steele’s brows lowered. “You haven’t found him yet?”
“He’s running. I’m pretty sure he knows I’m after him now. He’s been turning off his phone, probably taking out the battery so I can’t search for him.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. His jaw tightened. “For Ryder’s sake, I want to get this figured out and settled legal-like. I’ve got people who can run searches. For his phone, for his car. Give me everything you have on him, and I’ll get things rolling.”
Brooke’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected this. “So you believe me? That I’m not some lunatic stalker?”
One corner of his mouth twitched. “I believe you because Ryder does.” He raised a brow. “Don’t make me regret it.”
Her heart stuttered a couple times. How lucky was Ryder to have friends this devoted? “I won’t. I know this might not mean anything to you, but I would never do anything to harm him.”
He nodded then pulled out his cell phone. It had a crack running along the screen. A millionaire country star, and he had a broken phone? “Give me your number. I’ll text you, then you can get me his name, social security number, address, and whatever else you have on him.”
Rough Ryder Page 6
