“I’m sure you can. Let me try something I learned along the way. While I grab a crowbar from my pick-up, you turn the key as if you’re starting it.”
Her expression went from friendly to pissed off in a millisecond. “Wait. Does that decal in your back window say, “Texas. Everything’s Bigger”?”
“Yeah.” There was a story behind that and somehow he knew one day some beautiful woman would point out the arrogance of the decal and he’d feel like a dumbass. “My brother applied it as a joke—”
“Were you at the school dropping off a child a few days ago?” Her frown deepened.
Hell, this was turning in a different direction than where he thought it was headed. “My nephew, Max. Sometimes I help out my brother and sister-in-law.”
She tapped the toe of her boot against the road. “Has anyone ever told you that blasting your horn repetitively at a car in front of you in the drop-off zone is not only impolite, but imprudent?”
“Ahh…silver Camry?” She gave a jerky nod. “I’m sorry about that.” He took off his hat, scratched his head, then smashed the Stetson back into place.
“Sorry that you’re busted, I’m sure.”
“I can explain. I was running late—”
“Save it,” she huffed. “Yours is not the only person’s time that’s precious,” she huffed.
He grimaced. He guessed he deserved the cold shoulder after how rude he’d been, but he’d been on a time crunch with a patient. “How about I grab that tool and let’s get this thing started. You turn the key. Okay?”
Without a word, she did as he requested while he went to his truck. He came back and she watched him. “I sure hope this works.”
Damn, I hope so too. Holding the tool steady, he struck the battery twice, the engine groaned and finally started. He grinned. “There. I rectified myself.”
Her features softened. “I guess you did. I’m grateful and impressed. How did you do that?”
“Just a trick dad taught us boys when we were younger. Works like a charm on these old relics.” He grabbed his shirt, slammed the hood, and swiped his dirty hands together.
“I have some wipes in my purse that you can use to clean your hands.”
She came back and handed him the cloths that smelled like baby powder. “I think Mac and Nann have a package of these things around the house. They use them to wipe… Anyway, this’ll save me from needing to run back home to clean up before my trip into town.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you came along. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I can’t be late. That wouldn’t be good.”
He wadded the wipes up and stuffed them into his front pocket to dispose of later. “So, if you were at the school in the drop-off line, does that mean you have a kid?”
She nodded and swept her tongue out to moisten her lower lip. “Cullen. He’s ten.”
“I’m over at the elementary a few times a week volunteering until the school nurse comes back from maternity leave. Maybe I’ll meet him.”
“No offense, but I’m hoping you don’t.”
He didn’t ask what she meant because he took it as the obvious. “How does your husband like Kerrville?” He automatically looked for a ring, but her hand was bare. She had nice, short nails that were a pale pink color.
One corner of her mouth lifted. Did she ever fully smile?
“I’m sure if I had one, he’d like it.” She shifted her boots.
A part of him felt a sense of relief, which couldn’t be chalked up to anything but complete insanity. The last thing he needed was to get trapped in some lustful web again. Once upon a time he’d been a slobbering idiot over Kiernan Everhart, and if the truth be known, he still found her to be the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes upon. “Don’t turn off the truck until you’re someplace safe. If you need anything, just let me know.” Hell, why did he up and make an offer that he didn’t mean? Damn, he did mean it.
An awkward moment passed. “I need to get this feed home before I have to pick up Cullen. Thanks again for your help.”
Mason watched her walk away, admiring the sway of her hips before she slipped into the driver’s seat. He was still staring as she gave him a small wave along with an apprehensive smile as the truck pulled out from the side of the road. He stood there for a few long seconds, then dragged on his shirt and headed back to his truck, now late for his appointment.
If he hurried, he could be at his patient’s house in ten minutes. Although he didn’t like being late, he also didn’t mind seeing Kiernan again. He’d had the biggest crush on her in the past and even got lucky and kissed her a few times, but nothing ever progressed between them. He always wondered why he never asked her on a real date. Because he’d been a yellow-bellied, son-of-a-gun who would live with the regret of never telling her how he felt.
When she’d left Kerrville he thought any chance of taking her out was lost. Kelan said she’d run away to California to pursue independence, eventually opened a business and was happy. Sometime later, while they were fishing, he told Mason she’d shacked up with some guy. Kelan failed to inform Mason that she had a kid.
He couldn’t deny he was curious…real curious to get to know her again. Not many people leave Kerrville, but when they do, they certainly never come back. He wondered what her story was?
He’d like to find out.
In town, he parked on the street in front of the tiny yellow house with toys scattering the front yard. A large welcome sign hung on the bright red door and the American flag waved on the corner of the porch. Mason followed the cracked concrete walkway and knocked. The door swung open and on the other side stood Justin Wise. In his early thirties, married and a father of three, he returned a year ago from Syria without his right arm. The medical bills were piling up and he had a hard time keeping a job, so Mason tried helping the family out by stopping in at least once a week. Anything he could do for a man who’d served in the military. Mason and Mac’s brother, Morgan, died in the line of duty.
“Hey, buddy. I didn’t expect to see you today.” Justin pushed open the ratty screen door.
Leaning in and using his left hand to shake Mason’s, the strong odor of whiskey assaulted his nostrils. He dragged off his hat and held it against his chest.
Stepping into the house, he scanned the dimly-lit room. The shades and curtains were all closed, every available space was strewn with takeout containers, beer cans, whiskey bottles, and there was an overwhelming stench of stale cigarettes. Mason knew the man had a few habits, but this was the first time he’d seen the house a complete disaster. “Where’s Judy? The kids?”
Justin allowed the door to slam shut, then crossed the room to plop down on the worn sofa and picked up the controller to the Xbox. “She left me.” An explosion sounded from the TV speakers and he cursed under his breath as he swept a hand down his whiskered cheek. He dropped the controller onto the table, knocking a beer can to the floor. “Last week.”
“I didn’t know, man. I’m sorry.” Mason sat down in an overstuffed chair. Something squeaked under his ass. He pulled out a naked baby doll and sat it on the floor.
“Can’t say I didn’t expect it. She said she was tired of the way things have become. Hell, I couldn’t argue with her. I’m tired of me too.” He reached beside the table leg and brought out an opened bottle of cheap whiskey and took a long swig.
“Damn, Justin. I know things are tough, but that stuff won’t make things any easier to handle.” Mason hated to see his friend this way.
His buddy shrugged a shoulder. “You’re right, but for now, it takes the edge off.”
Mason didn’t argue. “Still having the headaches?”
“They come and go.”
“How about the leg?”
Justin scrubbed his red-rimmed eyes then rubbed his thigh where the wound was from the explosion that changed his life. “Doc said I could have the surgery to remove the shrapnel from my leg, but that shit costs money. Not to mention I’d be on my back during r
ecovery and what good would that do? I’m already lucky to get the few landscaping jobs with this?” He patted the healed stump of his arm.
“Still taking the pain meds?”
“Ran out and doc won’t prescribe anymore.”
Mason knew the man was in pain, but he didn’t need to be kicking back narcotics with the alcohol. “Have you started physical therapy?”
He laughed, but it was raw. “Can’t afford another medical bill.”
“It would help. You might even find some comfort from the ghost feelings in that arm.”
“Maybe I’ll find another job. Or not.” He slid the bottle between his knees, took out a cigarette from the almost empty pack on the table and lit it.
“What about over at the mill? I thought you had a foot in?”
“Worked there two days and I was fired. I was late.”
Mason rubbed his forehead. “What happened?”
“I had to take little Jonesy to the doctor. I guess it wasn’t a good enough excuse.” He took a long drag off the cigarette.
Sitting up and bracing his elbows on his knees, Mason said, “We’re needing another hand out at Sully. Why don’t you give it a try?”
Justin brought his watery gaze to Mason. “Hell, what good would I do out on your ranch?”
“Don’t use the excuse that you can’t work with one hand. I’ve seen you lift a bale of hay on each shoulder.”
“I don’t need anyone’s charity.”
“Charity is giving without asking for something in return, buddy. I expect you to work your ass off for a wage.”
The man seemed to mull the idea around in his head, then snuffed out his cigarette. “You’ve always been a good friend, Sullivan.”
“Then take the job and leave the whiskey for special occasions.”
They shook on it.
* * *
[TT1]???
Taken by the Lawman (Lawmen of Wyoming Book 6) Page 18