by Carolina Mac
What about Race? I have to tell Jackson and I have to tell Race’s father.
She trudged to the kitchen feeling much older than her thirty-five years. She pulled a Lone Star out of the Sub-Zero, plopped down on one of the stools at the island and chugged half of it.
After staring at her cell for five minutes, she made the call. “Hi, Lance, it’s Annie. I have some bad news.”
BLAINE ARRIVED at Misty’s bedside a few minutes before seven. He sat in the guest chair and picked up her hand. “So sorry I was gone all day, sweetheart. Things happened that I don’t want to talk about.”
Misty smiled. “There’s only one thing I want to talk about. Going home. I’m being released on Friday.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Friday, December 22nd.
BLAINE CHECKED OUT of the Marriott at nine, for what he hoped was the last time, and drove to the hospital. Doctor Fielding was releasing Misty at ten and he didn’t want to be late picking her up.
The previous afternoon, Blaine had brought her the clothes and toiletries she’d asked for from home. He felt a twinge of excitement for the day ahead, something he hadn’t felt for a long, long time.
As he strode through the hospital lobby he noticed the Christmas decorations.
Is it almost Christmas? Maybe I should be buying decorations or shopping or some damn thing.
He pressed the elevator button and stepped out on Misty’s floor. The past two days she had been out of intensive care and in a private room. It made visiting more private and relaxing.
She was dressed in black jeans and a red sweater when he arrived. Her blonde hair was brushed but hung in loose curls around her face. She smiled as he walked through the door.
“You look fantastic,” he said. “Feel like getting out of here?”
“Sure do. Can’t wait to get home and see Hoodoo. I missed him a lot.”
“Travis has been taking care of him since he was given a clean bill of health by Doctor Dunbar. I think he’s a little attached to him.”
“Aw, maybe we should get Travis a dog of his own.”
Blaine grinned. “Wouldn’t be a bad idea. I think he’s lonely.”
The nurse arrived with a wheelchair and Misty made no fuss about riding to the exit. Blaine helped her out of the chair and into the truck waiting at the curb in the pickup loop.
She sighed as she settled into the leather seat. “Smells like you in here,” she said. “I missed that.”
“Maybe I need a shower.”
“Not that kind of a smell. I meant like your scent.”
“Oh.”
They’d been on the road an hour when Misty said, “I didn’t realize I was so far away from Austin. You were driving back and forth all this way. I’m so sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault you were way out in hill country. I’m happy that you’re okay. That’s all that matters to me.”
“Kind of a rough start to our relationship,” said Misty. “Maybe we need a second date.”
Blaine chuckled. “We haven’t had much time for dating, have we?”
“While I was lying in the hospital thinking about what day it was, I realized it was winter solstice. I always make special food on the twenty-first.”
“I don’t know what winter solstice is,” said Blaine, “I have a lot to learn.”
“It’s Yule. The shortest day of the year. The dark half of the year makes way for the light half. I bake and put up special decorations.”
“You can do that when we get home.”
“I’m well enough to stay in my own house,” said Misty.
Blaine shook his head. “Don’t think so. Doctor Fielding said one more week of rest.”
“I won’t fight you on it, I don’t have a lot of energy to waste on arguing.”
Blaine glanced at the clock on the dash. “We need to hurry to the train station. I don’t want Carm to get frightened.”
“Sad about her sister,” said Misty, “but I’m glad she’s coming home. She’s so nice.”
“Now that her sister’s gone, she considers me her only family,” said Blaine.
THE HISTORIC ANGLICAN CHURCH two blocks from the Capitol was surrounded by state security, Austin PD squad cars and Texas Ranger SUV’s. Media vehicles occupied every parking space inside of a six blocks radius and their camera-ready personnel lurked on the sidewalks ready to pounce on anyone deemed newsworthy.
The black limo provided by the funeral home Annie had selected, delivered her and Blaine to the front steps. As she stepped out of the car, security surrounded her and pushed back the crowd of reporters.
Dressed in a snug fitting black dress topped with a thigh length leather coat and matching boots, Annie painted an elegant picture. Blaine gripped her elbow and steered her towards the church steps.
“Is it true, Mrs. Powell, that Governor Richardson died at your ranch?”
Annie turned and snarled at the blonde talking head. “Of course, it’s true. Where else would he be? He was my best friend.”
“Come on, Mom,” said Blaine. “Let’s get inside.”
They found seats at the front in the reserved rows. Jesse and all the Quantrall boys were already seated. Their father, Lou had grown up with Scott Richardson and their families had been fast friends throughout the years. Beside Jesse sat Travis and with him was Lily.
The service was long and formal, the prayers and hymns interspersed with the testimonials of dozens of political colleagues. The last to speak was the newly sworn in Governor, Hugh DeVouge. His speech, although generously padded with compliments and kudos for Governor Richardson and his years in office, lacked sincerity.
Blaine sat silently in the first pew holding Annie’s hand and trying his best to quell his anger.
I’ll get you DeVouge. By the time the next election rolls around, there won’t be a person in Texas voting for you.
THE GOVERNOR’S MANSION on Colorado street was decorated for Christmas, lighted wreaths in all the windows and a huge spruce tree on the front lawn covered in twinkling white lights.
Security officers dressed in dark suits, stood at the front door admitting only those on a printed guest list. DeVouge stood in the foyer making his presence known and lording it over all who entered.
Blaine escorted Annie inside and she had to pass DeVouge to get to the dining room. She’d planned an elegant buffet and arranged for a caterer without consulting the newly sworn in governor.
He stepped towards her and blocked her path. “Mrs. Powell, how lovely to see you.”
Annie stepped closer, backed him into a corner and whispered, “I know all about you, DeVouge. Watch your step.”
His face lost color and he moved on to other guests.
Blaine steered her into the dining room. “What did you say to DeVouge?”
Annie shrugged as she eyed the spread on the long dining table. “Just a word of warning.”
Unaware that Annie even knew Hugh DeVouge, Blaine prodded her. “How do you know him?”
“When Jim Powell worked his magic putting the proper authorities in place for the safe-house, Hugh DeVouge opposed him every step of the way.”
“I didn’t know that, Mom.”
“He’s self-serving and underhanded,” said Annie. “I don’t trust him and I don’t want you working for him.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
“Why not?”
Blaine grinned. “He fired me.”
JESSE STOOD in a corner of the elegant living room with a piece of pecan pie on a plate in his hand. “This is a sad day for the State of Texas,” he said to Travis. “Scott Richardson was the best governor we ever had.”
Lily, dressed in a black suit, stood by Travis’ side. “Will we be working for the new governor?” she asked Jesse in a whisper.
Jesse shook his head. “Don’t think so. Blacky had a meet with the man yesterday and he fired us.”
Travis cranked his head around to see where DeVouge was. “Can he do that? I thought… never
mind what I thought.”
“You thought right, Trav. You can’t fire somebody who don’t work for you.”
Lily raised a perfectly arched brow. “Who do we work for?”
Jesse smiled and ate his pie.
AS SOON AS HE could get away, Blaine excused himself and drove home. The dogs greeted him with a chorus of barking and he was happier than he’d been in days.
“Something smells good in here, Carm.” He strode across the kitchen and grabbed her in a bear hug.
She giggled and pointed to Misty sitting at the table by the window.
“What’s going on with my girls?”
“I’m making a Yule log,” said Misty. “We’ll cut it tonight at midnight.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Blaine. “I’m having a Corona. Want a drink, Mist?”
“I have coffee, thanks.” She looked up from her decorating with sad eyes. “Was the funeral terrible for you?”
“Uh huh, but worse for Annie. She feels responsible for Scott’s death.”
“Why would she?”
“Umm… its complicated.” He sat down and blew out a breath. Are the dogs getting along?”
Misty nodded. “They played a long time in the yard.”
“Should you be resting?”
“I am resting.”
I think that means ‘back off.’
In Spanish, Blaine hollered over to Carm at the stove. “Do y’all want a Christmas tree?”
A warm smile spread across her face. “Si.”
“Okay, tomorrow I’ll buy a tree and decorations.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Saturday, December 24th.
Christmas Eve
DECLAN PARKED the Coulter-Ross truck in the short-term lot at Austin-Bergstrom.
“How do we know that Daddy is already on the plane?” asked Jackson.
“I arranged it,” said Annie, “and the morgue confirmed it.”
Declan checked the luggage while Annie got the boarding passes.
“Want coffee, darlin?” asked Dec. “We’ve got a few minutes before they call us to board.”
“Sure. Do you want chocolate milk, honey?”
“Nope. I’ll wait until the girls in the plane give me a drink.”
Annie smiled at her son.
He looks so much like Race it’s breaking my heart.
They settled into first class with Jackson by the window. Declan held Annie’s hand and encouraged her to rest while she could. She nodded, laid her head on his shoulder and never said a word the whole trip.
At McCarran, Lance Ogilvie waited in arrivals. Race had been as tall as his father, but broader in the shoulders and more muscular. Since the last time Annie had seen Lance, his dark hair had become much grayer. Understandable with what Race had put his father through the last twenty years. He stood up when they came through the doors and held out his arms for Annie.
Tears flowed as she melted into his arms.
“I brought your son home.”
I sincerely hope you enjoyed Splitting Aces, book two in the Blackmore Agency Series. If you would like to continue to book three in the series, Dead Man’s Hand, I’ve included the first two chapters for you.
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Author Notes from Carolina:
The Blackmore series is off and running and I’ve had good feedback so far. There will be more stories in the future involving Jesse and his brothers, I guarantee it.
A special thank you to the fans who take the time to reach out and share their ideas, support, and opinions. You know who you are, Holly, Lynn, June, Dorothy, Shelley, Diane, Wendy, Shirley and Freda, Jerry, Dawn, Alice, Billy and Melinda, Jim and Gayle, Ava, Terry, Renee, Dolly, Tammy, William and Celestia to name a few. If I missed you here, message me and I’ll add you to the list.
Any mistakes in any of my books are mine and mine alone.
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CHAPTER ONE
Monday, December 25th.
Christmas Day.
FIFTY FEET ABOVE THE WATER, the front porch of the cabin offered a spectacular view of Buchanan Lake. Built one timber at a time by his father years before, the place was as solid as the rock it stood on. Though he’d neglected the property over the last ten years, the place had weathered the elements remarkably well on its own. At the bottom of the hill, the boathouse and the dock had stood the test of time as well as the cabin, and were both as sturdy as the day they were completed. His father had built the place to last and no corners were cut in the doing. The cabin, constructed of rough-sawn timbers and natural field stone gathered from the property, was comfortably furnished inside and equipped with everything one would need for a relaxing weekend.
Almost everything.
From where he stood on the porch, his gaze flickered across the huge expanse of icy gray water, and focused on the dam in the distance. He nodded his head. Ten minutes tops, by boat. A smile began around his mouth and to quell the excitement coursing through his veins, he pulled a hand-rolled Cuban out of the pocket of his dressing gown and lit up. He savored the first drag of the day, inhaled and held it in his lungs.
“I’m glad you’re not smoking one of those things inside,” said Bette. “The stink of it stays in the upholstery forever.”
Why isn’t she still sleeping?
“Merry Christmas to you too,” he growled. He didn’t turn to look at her. Why spoil the day so soon? He knew only too well what his wife looked like—short, fat and ugly. Not the cute little brunette he’d hooked up with in college. Had he ever been in love with her? Maybe not, but he’d been in love with the package—a decent looking girl with half a brain and bushels of Texas oil money behind her—if he played his cards right, someday he’d have it all.
“No, I’m smoking out here and freezing my ass off instead.” His voice had an edge to it that could’ve cut diamonds. “Don’t I always try to please you, sweetheart?”
She crossed the porch in three steps and slipped her chubby arms around his waist from behind. “Of course, you do, Hughie. You made me the first lady of Texas. I couldn’t be happier.”
“Don’t call me Hughie,” he shouted without meaning to and turned towards her with a raised hand.
She cringed and took a step back. “That’s your name. I’ve always called you that since the first day we met.”
“Time for a change.” He paced the length of the small porch, relit his cigar and puffed on it to get it going. “I’m not the guy you knew in college, Bette. Not by a long shot. I’m a different person now. I’m important and I want to sound important. Hughie sounds like a cartoon character. Call me… Malcolm.”
“Malcolm? Why would I start now, calling you by your middle name after twenty-five years of marriage?”
“Why? Because I told you to.”
AT SIX A.M. BLAINE prowled the huge kitchen in his restored Victorian making coffee and thinking of the day ahead. He smiled anticipating the fun they’d have with Annie and his brothers at Coulter-Ross. Jackson, his adopted brother, was only six years old, and he’d been hyped for days waiting for Santa Claus to come down the chimney.
Blaine had no memories of waiting for Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny or anything else in his childhood, for that matter. His first memory was waking up under the bleachers in Odessa fairgrounds when he was fourteen. After that rude awakening, he’d struggled to survive on the streets of a city he didn’t recognize. Another homeless kid befriended him and talked him into joining the O-Zone, a brutal biker gang. Blaine took a sip of his coffee and tried not to think about it.
If Annie hadn’t rescued m
e, I’d be dead.
Annie had adopted Blaine when he was sixteen and he still considered it the turning point and the best day of his life.
Lexi whined to go out and snapped Blaine out of his trip down memory lane. “Come on girl, I’ll let you out into the yard.” He opened the back door and shivered when the December wind hit his bare skin.
Shit, I can’t smoke out there with only my boxers on.
He ran upstairs to get dressed and almost crashed into Carmelita coming out of her room. She giggled and said, “Felice navidad.”
“Same, Carm.” He grabbed her in a hug and hollered, “It’s gonna be a great day.” More than a cook and a housekeeper, Carm was special. She would have been Blaine’s mother-in-law if Fabiana had lived, but things didn’t work out that way. Carmelita Flores had befriended him when they were both at a low point in their lives.
Once he was dressed and had a smoke, Blaine checked the tree in the living room. He made sure the twinkling white lights were on and the gifts perfectly arranged. Misty had wrapped all the gifts he’d bought while she and Carm spent all of Christmas Eve doing marathon baking. How would the three of them eat all those desserts? There wasn’t one Tupperware container that wasn’t filled with tarts, cookies or brownies. He’d better invite Farrell over tomorrow.
After a cursory glance for dirty dishes or wine glasses that had been missed from the night before he headed to the kitchen for another coffee.
Misty would soon be here for breakfast and after what she’d gone through helping him with his last case, he wanted everything to be perfect for her. They’d only been seeing each other for a few weeks, but they were happy, and the new relationship seemed right.
AT THE QUANTRALL RANCH, Jesse joined his family in the dining room for Christmas breakfast. Wendy, his sister-in-law had come next door from the house she shared with his youngest brother Paul, and their toddler, Shannon, to help Molly with the cooking.
