Payton pled once more. “I promise I’ll be better. You guys just need to try. Just try. Please! Please, please, please, please …”
Payton shot up from her covers and stared into the night. It might have been a good eighteen years ago, but when she dreamt of that terrible time, it all felt new again. Like ripping a scab off a wound she thought had healed. Wounds healed, didn’t they? Heck, there’s a saying that promised time will do that very thing. But not this pain. This … this was an ongoing threat. Payton had kept her family together somehow back then, and she’d keep doing it as long as she was able. Family—as unique as hers might be—was all she had, after all.
Chapter 4
Luke scooted his chair away from the table and shot a glance at the rooster clock on the wall. Mom had owned it since his older brother, Ross, was born, but somehow the thing kept on ticking.
“You’re not fixing to leave already, are you?” his mom asked. “I haven’t even whipped the cream for Jason’s dessert.” Dee Branson was wife to one, mother of four, and temporary mom to whoever wandered into her life. The nurturing woman took note of each ranch hand’s favorite dessert, and made her way down the list as the large group met up for dinner each Saturday night. Tonight, she’d made Jason’s favorite: apple crisp.
“No,” Luke assured. “I don’t mind waiting. Was just checking the time, is all.” The truth was, he was tired of the expectant gazes coming from the center of the table. His meddling older brother and his wife had brought friends one too many times. How was it that a married couple in their thirties had that many single friends in their twenties? They were parents, for crying out loud. Weren’t they supposed to be bonding with other parents?
“Thanks again for going to the trouble of making my favorite dessert,” Jason said, looking from Luke to his mom. “I really appreciate it.”
“Oh, no problem. I’m just glad you stuck around long enough for me to get through the other desserts before some of the ranch hands left for the season,” Dee said. “Sure am glad to hear that you’re sticking around.”
“Ditto,” Dad said. “Me and Dee like you better than we do our own boys.”
Luke gave in to a grin as he shook his head. “Good thing Taylor didn’t hear that. He’d be in tears over it.” Luke was glad Jason was staying on.
Before hiring the extra help, Luke hadn’t known what it was like to come in before dark, or stay in bed past sunrise. He really enjoyed the perks of having an extra hand on staff. It seemed the Hollywood stowaway had the pressure of the world on him at such a young age, with his home life as it was. Luke only hoped he’d be able to stand up to his stubborn family and bossy sister, since they didn’t support his decision to go into ranching in the least.
“Did you hear that, Linda?” Rachel asked with a grin. “Jason’s staying.”
A set of brakes screeched in Luke’s head. Wait, they brought Linda for Jason?
“I heard it,” Linda said, shooting a smile past Luke and on to Jason. Probably whom she’d been making eyes at the whole night.
Good. Ross and Rachel finally gave up on me. Let them pick on the new boy. Set him up with the mail lady and the store clerk and any other female not wearing a ring. At least he was off the hook.
“We’re back,” Taylor said as he burst into the room with Ross’s kids.
“We got the cream!” Melanie said.
“And Takis!” Pete added with a wide grin.
“Yeah, but those are for the movie,” Taylor said. “Now it’s time for dessert.” He glanced over at the table. “Wow, these guys look like they’ve been bored without us. What do you think, Pete? They look like a pretty boring bunch, don’t they?”
Nine-year-old Pete agreed with everything his uncle Taylor said. “The most boring bunch ever,” he said with the shake of his head.
Melanie, his younger sister, walked over to her mom and wrapped her arms around her. “My mom isn’t boring.”
“Geeze, thanks a lot, Mellie,” Ross grumbled.
“Well,” Dad boomed. “I might have to agree with Taylor. I think I was just about asleep over here until he and the kids got back.”
“That’s just because you ate too much, Bob,” Dee said with a laugh.
The commotion kept up as Mom whipped the cream. Taylor, who’d recently broken things off with his girlfriend, warred with Jason for Linda’s attention, while Melanie and Pete entertained their grandpa with their wild tales. Luke sank back into his thoughts. Ross and Rachel had moved on to more hopeful candidates to set their female friends up with. The idea brought him relief, for sure, but it was short-lived. Because soon a stubborn piece of his mind trudged through the dark forest of his past.
Like a dim flashlight peering through overgrown vines, muddy terrain, and mounds of thorny briar, his subconscious fought to dig up old pains. Attempting to remind him of just why he wasn’t looking for love. Of why he downright feared it.
No. Don’t go back there, Luke. It doesn’t help. It never has.
He forced his eyes back on Taylor and his animated replay of how Mojo ran off with one of the horseshoes after snatching it from Pete’s hands. Mel and Pete giggled like someone was tickling them with both hands. Even Mojo joined in on the action, barking at the excitement. Perhaps what Taylor said was true: The place was boring without him and the kids.
No worries. Luke had been through enough in his life to know there were a lot of things worse than boring. No need to go rocking a steady boat, even if it was stuck in the same spot.
Chapter 5
“Payton …” Chloe’s voice urged through the phone line. “I really don’t want you to worry about things here. You’ve trained me well enough that if you died tomorrow the place wouldn’t miss a beat, remember?”
Payton might be offended by what Chloe said, but she’d quoted Payton’s own words. “True, but only because I handpicked the best assistant-slash-vice-president ever.”
“I won’t argue with that,” Chloe said.
Payton grinned. No one could argue it—Payton’s best friend since the eighth grade had a mind for business and a love for fashion. Thank heavens she’d been willing to ditch her college major (accounting and finance) and accept a position in an interest she’d minored in instead. Lucky for Chloe, fashion was actually her first love. And though Payton succeeded in the industry, she wished she could say the same.
“So are you at the airport already?” Chloe asked.
Payton pressed the receiver against her ear as she strutted across the large private lot. Sun and warmth and gorgeous blue sky surrounded the waiting jet. “Yes,” she said.
“I can’t believe you’re really doing this. Well, scratch that,” Chloe said. “You’re one of the only people I know who wouldn’t hesitate to fly out to Montana to try and force her brother to come home.”
“Urge,” Payton corrected. “He’s a grown man. I can’t force him to do anything.”
Chloe chuckled. “Why does that feel like a lie?”
Payton lifted her chin toward a breeze that picked up. “Because everyone thinks I go around telling people what to do and they do it. I’m just convincing, that’s all. But Jason has changed. I’m actually kind of worried that he won’t come.” It got quiet for a bit, and Payton dropped her gaze to watch her step. Heat radiated off the tarmac, warming her legs as she dodged the gooey-looking crack-repair trails of tar; stilettos and hot tar weren’t friends.
“How long are you willing to stay?” Chloe asked.
“An hour. Maybe two,” Payton said with a laugh. “No, I may end up staying a few nights if I have to. Maybe up to a week, even.” Or more, if need be. Only she didn’t say that part. “I mainly have to get him back before fall semester starts, which is in, like, eighteen days, not that I’m counting.”
“Huh. Sounds nightmarish. Did Leroy get you in for a pedi?”
“Yes.” Payton smiled at Gordon as he hurried down the steps. “Hi, Gordon,” she mouthed.
The sun lit his thick, silver brows a
s he gave her a sharp nod. “Hello.” Without another word, he pried the suitcase handle from her grip and looped the bag off her arm. Payton shifted her weight at the base of the stairs while Gordon carried them onto the jet.
“And what about Jackie for your manicure?” Chloe asked.
“Done.”
“At least you won’t have to worry about that.”
“True.”
“Roots?”
“Done last week.” Of course, Payton was a natural redhead, but she preferred a little vibrancy to enhance the color.
“Sounds like you’re all set.”
“I guess so,” Payton said, but she was cut off by the frantic sound of Chloe’s gasp.
“Oh my …” She cut off there, sounding too horrified to finish the phrase.
“What’s wrong?” Payton urged, pressing the phone tighter against her ear. The back of her hoop earring jabbed a sensitive spot behind her lobe.
“Oh no, Payton. This is so awful …”
She shouldn’t assume that what Chloe witnessed had anything to do with her; somewhere in her mind, Payton knew that. So why was her throat pulsing in some sort of spasm? Like it might shut off completely? “What is it, Chloe?”
“Archie,” she hissed, quieter now.
Payton’s eyes clenched shut. Please, no.
Chloe cleared her throat and continued, the words low and rushed. “I came to the clubhouse for my massage, right?”
“Okay …”
“I requested a poolside massage in one of the private cabanas, and suddenly I see this couple step out of a cabana kitty-corner to mine and they’re all over each other. And then I notice that the guy …”
Payton reached for the railing at the base of the stairs. The hard angles gouged into her palm. “Are you sure it’s him?”
“It’s Archie, Payton. It’s definitely him. He’s with some skanky blonde.”
“No way. He wouldn’t do that.” Payton released the railing and strode away from the jet.
“I’m sorry, Payton, but I’m almost positive it’s him. Want me to take a picture and send it?”
Payton’s first instinct was no, but she pushed past it, knowing there was nothing to be afraid of. Archie Kendall was too smart to do something so dumb. “Yes. Take a video, in fact, because pictures lie.”
“Okay, I’ll get what I can.” A small click ended the call.
This was not happening. There was no way Archie was with another woman. Breathe, Payton. Archie would never, ever cheat on you; he knows how important this wedding is. Chloe’s eyes were adjusting to the sun. She was probably wearing those super-dark shades that matched her coal-black hair.
She shoved her phone into the back pocket of her peacock-blue jeans, straightened her dusty-blue blouse, and tugged at the hem of her deep-sea camisole. She circled her way back to the base of the stairs slowly, arms folded, waiting for Chloe’s text. At last it came, a small buzz with accompanying beeps—three high-pitched tones.
Her pocket felt a hundred pounds heavier suddenly. Her heart did as well. The magnitude of what that text might reveal—it was simply too great for the world around her to keep moving as it was. Fast and flawless. Cars speeding along the nearby highway. The people of Los Angeles going about their day. Shopping and working and visiting with friends. Would they catch wind of this soon? How quickly would it be on the celebrity gossip columns?
Please say Archie isn’t cheating on me. I can only save one thing at a time.
A distant palm tree bounced and swayed as a large bird perched there, its black, shiny eyes set on her. Its expression was almost sad, as if it, too, knew that her world was about to crumble.
She pulled the small device from her pocket and let out a slow breath. Chloe had sent a video, just as Payton asked.
Hovered over the phone, neck tight and shoulders tense, Payton shielded the screen from the sun and hit play.
The picture was fuzzy at first, catching a couple from a distance. It zoomed in on the two, surrounded by blue, and then came into clear, undeniable focus. A full-curved, bleach blonde woman nudged up to a guy whose face was covered by hers as she kissed his cheek.
Payton squinted. Did those look like Archie’s arms? They were pasty compared to the woman’s. They kind of looked like his. Wait, the ring … he was wearing a ring that looked a lot like Archie’s. The guy’s hair—it looked a lot like that perfectly sculpted quiff of his.
Please don’t be Archie Kendall.
The woman tipped back, and the guy moved in, began kissing her neck! Payton’s stomach lunged and churned like it’d been thrown onto one of the moving cars on I-405.
At last he pried his head away from hers, allowing the sun to catch his pale blue eyes. Sweat glistening off his freshly shaven face. It was him.
Curse after curse ran through Payton’s mind at the confirmation. Forget about I-405; her stomach had plunged so low and fast that it was probably headed to the earth’s very core. Or perhaps that was her heart. Was it even still beating?
Payton knew—without a conscious thought—that she still had to get on that jet. But a list of other to-dos raced to the forefront. Call her PR rep, Roz, give her a heads-up in case the press caught wind of it. Call stupid, stupid Archie and tell him what an absolute idiot he was to do what he was doing.
What was he doing, anyway? Hoping to have a fling? Did he still want to get married, or was he planning to call everything off?
“Ms. Keller?” a voice came from behind. Gordon’s voice.
Payton glanced back.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She gulped, nodded. Move, Payton. Move! You still have to go get Jason.
The idea was enough to motivate her. That was her focus—putting her family back together. Archie wasn’t her focus, though even thinking his name made her shoe catch on the bottom step.
Gordon, who was also the pilot, did his best to hide his concern. Payton spotted it in the twitch of his lip, evident through the thin mustache he wore.
Once at the cabin door, Payton glanced back to the palm tree in time to see the bird tilt its head, spread its wings, and fly away.
Payton settled into her favored seat and said yes to the single flight attendant when asked if she’d like a drink.
Focus on your breaths, Payton. She did just that, slow and deep like Tamara, her personal yoga instructor advised.
Images flashed through her mind—Archie’s stupid ring glistening in the sun as he placed kisses on the woman’s neck. Never had he kissed Payton with that kind of passion. Never.
Jason, Payton told herself. Think of Jason. Of Mom and Dad. Bring Jason home and things will be fine. She repeated that very thing as she shut off her phone. If she’d been given the option in that moment to toss it down the jet’s tiny toilet and say goodbye forever, Payton would have done it. Gladly. She hadn’t seen what she thought she’d seen. And she didn’t need to re-watch the video to prove it.
Payton would simply focus on bringing her brother home, and worry of nothing else.
Let’s take this one crisis at a time.
Chapter 6
Luke lifted his hat and wiped the sweat off his brow, willing a breeze to blow over the land already.
“Should have heard Payton chewing me out on the phone the other night,” Jason grumbled, hoisting a bale of hay onto the cargo rack of the four-wheeler.
“Oh yeah?” Luke climbed onto the other ATV. “She’s letting you have it, huh?”
“Yep,” Jason said. “All because she thinks we’re here to live our parents’ lives all over again. Having one Olivia Keller and one Dr. Michael Keller isn’t enough. We need to be clones, I guess.”
The woman sounded crazy, but Luke didn’t want to come out and say that to the poor kid; it was his sister, after all. “That’s too bad,” he offered. “I wonder what caused her to be that way. You know, so controlling.”
“Yeah, I’ve wondered that too.” Jason climbed onto the ATV and glanced over at Luke. “Ready to head
out?”
“Yep,” Luke said. “Follow me.” He roared up the ATV and led the wannabe rancher back to the corral. The fresh air felt cool against his skin, offering that breeze he’d wanted as he rode over the patchy terrain, recalling the day he first met Jason Keller. The kid had had his share of tabloid exposure, stories of the Keller Family’s rebel. But Luke was glad things had worked out well for him here. So far, anyway. And thank heavens he was staying on. With Doug leaving sooner than planned, Luke wouldn’t have been able to manage without the extra help. At some point Jason would move on over to Dad’s place and stay in the bunkhouse there; most of Dad’s ranch hands would be heading back to school, and there’d be enough work there to keep him busy full time.
Luke came to a stop beside the corral, then climbed off to unload the hay bales, placing them beneath the tarp where the horses’ food had dwindled. Jason followed suit.
“Think I’ll have you take over feeding these guys since you’re out this way so often. You’ll do it twice a day.” He grabbed the pitchfork and showed him how to measure the width with it. “About this much for each,” he said, tearing a chunk away from the bale and scooping it onto the prongs. “You’ll have to pay mind to the pecking order, if you will. You already know Rudi, our gelding.”
“Yeah,” Jason said with a laugh. “He was the only one I dared ride for the first month I was here.”
“Yeah, well, we fixed that pretty quick once I heard about it,” Luke mumbled. “We keep Rudi separate so the ladies over there don’t pick on him.” He hoisted Rudi’s food over the gate and walked back to the bale.
“Now we feed the ladies. Ruth will take the first heap no matter where I put it. The others won’t even try to argue. Maggie will take the next one, and then there’s Rita. She’s timid, which lands her at the bottom of the pecking order.” Luke brought a hand up to shield his mouth from the horses, then nodded for Jason to listen close. “But the joke’s on them,” he said under his breath, “cuz we always give Rita the biggest heap.”
This Cowboy's a Keeper (Unlikely Cowgirl Book 3) Page 2
