The only time he and Brooke called a truce was when Kent and Dara were around.
Kent was his best friend. Dara was Brooke’s. Somehow, someway, the two of them had fallen in love, gotten married and started a family. Through all of that, he and Brooke had remained civil to one another in their presence. Once Kent and Dara had moved to Houston, they didn’t see them as often—meaning Brooke didn’t have to bother with civility when their paths did cross.
Why she treated him like he’d done something to personally offend her, he didn’t know. “There’s just no pleasing some people,” he said, scratching his part Great Dane, part Great Pyrenees, Harvey, behind the ear. “And she is one of those people.”
Harvey made a somewhat agreeable canine sound before turning to rest his chin on the open passenger windowsill.
“Glad you agree.” Audy patted the dog on the back, stepping on the accelerator as they cruised down the long country road leading to Briscoe Ranch.
His phone rang, but he ignored it. It was probably his big brother, Forrest, wondering why he was taking so long. Or his other brother Webb texting him to complain about Forrest. His sister, Mabel, was off working in Wyoming—so she wouldn’t be calling. Or it was Uncle Felix, finally remembering whatever it was he needed from the store that he couldn’t quite remember when Audy had left to take Beau to school this morning.
Right now, it was Harvey and him, the wide-open road, peace and quiet.
Brooke wasn’t the only one who’d had a rough morning. First Forrest, then Beau, then Mr. Gutierrez, and then, finally, Brooke Young. Every single one of them seemed to feel he needed a talking-to about something he was doing wrong. The poor example he set, his music, his driving, his waving...
But he always listened to his music that loud, he liked it that way. He didn’t have a single ticket on his driving record—he’d taken defensive driving more times than he could count to make sure each of them was erased. The waving?
It’s possible Brooke’s sister didn’t understand I was wanting to slide in front of them...
But there was no need for Beau to have slammed the truck door so hard he all but knocked it off its hinges. That boy was too much like Forrest. Too uptight. Too worried about what everyone else thought. Too caught up in schedules and action plans and goals and all the little things that sucked away all the spontaneity and excitement in life.
“At seventeen, I was too busy making memories to sweat the small stuff.” He sighed, draping his right arm along the back of the truck’s bench seat.
Harvey glanced back over his shoulder at Audy, his long plume of a tail thumping against the seat.
“I know.” Audy nodded. “My little brother needs to learn how to live a little. Live in the moment. Maybe I can give him some pointers on that?” He patted Harvey’s back again. “Forrest would love that.” He chuckled.
Harvey yawned.
Audy’s phone started ringing again, but he turned off the ringer, blasted his music and turned onto the gravel drive that led to the main house. He slowed, not wanting the rocks to ding and chip the paint on his truck. His truck was his baby. A fully restored 1986 Chevrolet K-20 Silverado Fleetside, with all the bells and whistles. Forrest said it was the only thing in the whole world Audy took pride in. Audy was pretty sure his big brother had meant that as an insult. Instead, Audy agreed.
Poor Forrest. Audy couldn’t remember a time when his big brother wasn’t acting like some uptight eighty-year-old. What did he have against having some fun? Living a little? Then again, Uncle Felix wasn’t much of a disciplinarian. It wasn’t his fault, though. He’d been a confirmed bachelor, no cares in the world, until he’d moved out here to raise the lot of them. Audy shuddered at the thought.
Poor Forrest? More like poor Uncle Felix. He’d gone from single and carefree to guardian of six kids. Six. He shuddered again.
You only get one life, so make the most of it.
Audy wasn’t sure where he’d seen the quote, but it’d spoken to him. He’d taken a good, long look at the world around him and decided he was going to do just that: make the most of every day. Audy’s risk-taking, thrill-seeking to-do list was never-ending. There was always some new thing—something that pushed the boundaries of safety and acceptability and got his adrenaline pumping. He was always ready for a challenge. Always.
The only thing he wasn’t ready for? Winding up in a situation that would saddle him with the sort of burdens and responsibility his family was always on him about. He’d grow up and do something with himself... But not yet. He had more living to do first.
With that in mind, he turned onto the barn road instead of heading back to the main house. If he got his horse, Dusty, saddled and gone before Forrest got here, he wouldn’t have to listen to another one of his big brother’s lectures. It might not start out that way—but it always turned into one. Forrest didn’t seem to know how to speak to Audy without coming across like an arrogant know-it-all.
He was parking the truck when his phone started ringing again.
“Persistent, aren’t they?” Audy said to Harvey.
Harvey yawned.
Audy pulled the phone from his pocket. Not his uncle or his brother. Not a number he recognized. Maybe something rodeo related? Maybe RJ had found out something about the snot-nose youngster pretending to be a bull rider, Sterling Dunn. No one tried to make a fool of Audy Briscoe, especially not some upstart wanting to build a name for himself. He’d been waiting for a chance to ride against the punk and, when it came, he was going—no matter how mad it’d make Forrest. Forrest didn’t get the whole bull-riding thing, which made sense since Forrest didn’t get much about Audy.
“Yello?” he answered.
“I’m looking for Mr. Audy Briscoe?” The man’s voice was brusque. “This is Giles Vincent. I’m an attorney.”
An attorney? This couldn’t be good. “What would you be looking for Audy Briscoe for?” He rested his elbow on the bed of his truck. “Is he in trouble for something?” He racked his brain for any possible mishaps.
“No. Nothing like that.” Mr. Lawyer-man paused. “Am I speaking with Audy Briscoe?”
“As long as you’re not looking for me to buy anything, sell anything, or anything along the likes, then, yes, you are speaking to Audy Briscoe.” He winked at Harvey.
Harvey rested his head on his paws, not looking the least bit amused.
“To confirm, this is Audy Briscoe? This has to do with a legal matter pertaining to Joy Adams, daughter of Dara and Kent Adams.” Lawyer-man waited. “Her co-guardianship.”
He frowned. “I signed that paper saying I’d do it, didn’t I?” Audy frowned. Hadn’t he? That was right after their daughter was born. He’d told Kent they were making a mistake, but he and Dara had laughed off all his protests and handed him a pen. “But, hold on, now. This is about paperwork, right?” The silence that followed was so loaded, Audy felt a prickle of unease race down his spine. “Why are you calling me, Mr....”
“Mr. Vincent.” The man drew in a deep breath. “I work here in Houston. I was one of Kent’s colleagues. Good man. Good friend.”
Audy nodded. The best. Kent might be doing the white-picket-fence thing, but he didn’t hold it against his best friend. Kent had the best sense of humor—always quick with a comeback or a joke. He’d managed something no one else had: Kent—and Dara—made the whole grown-up thing look decent enough. “He is,” he said.
“There is no easy way to say this, Mr. Briscoe, so I’ll get right to it. Kent and Dara Adams were in a fatal automobile accident this morning—after dropping Joy at day care.”
Audy could scarcely breathe. The world came to a screeching halt, and he wasn’t sure where the roaring in his ears was coming from—only that it was getting louder. “What?” He’d heard wrong. Or...or... Audy was gripping the side of his truck then, a surge of fury rising up in him. “Is this some sort of j
oke? Kent is a practical joker but this isn’t funny—”
“No, it is not funny.” Mr. Vincent sighed.
“Then tell Kent to knock it off and I’ll call him later—”
“Mr. Briscoe.” The man cut in, cool and calm and far too serious. “I realize this is somewhat of a shock. I, too, am struggling to process this sudden loss. All I can do is carry out their wishes...now that they’re gone.”
Gone. Audy focused on a tiny scratch in the paint of the truck bed. The scratch was fine. Hair-fine. So fine it was almost invisible. Kent. Dara... The man kept talking about Houston, the thunderstorm that morning and Kent swerving to avoid a fallen tree limb—he’d hydroplaned into oncoming traffic and hit head-on. The more the man talked, the bigger the scratch seemed to grow.
Why is he still talking? Audy didn’t want to picture what the man was saying. He didn’t want to think about Kent behind the wheel of the eyesore of a family SUV he’d bought when he’d found out Dara was expecting. Audy had teased him mercilessly—still teased him when he had the chance. It was what they did. Joked. Teased. Pushed buttons. He didn’t want to picture the two of them scared or panicked or...
“When do you think you can be here?” the man asked.
“There?” Audy cleared his throat and tore his gaze from the scratch. All around him, life was going on. He could hear the horses in the barn, the low rumble of conversation from the men getting ready for the day, and the distant lowing of their Red Angus cattle out to graze. The morning Texas sun, higher now, was already beating down on him—promising triple-digit heat by noon. Audy ran a hand over his face, trying to make sense of...everything. What is happening? How could this happen? Kent and Dara were good people, good parents. Things like this didn’t happen to people like them. It wasn’t right. Nothing about this was right. “Where?”
“Here. To Houston. To pick up Joy.” The way Mr. Vincent delivered the statement, it was almost like he hadn’t just uttered the most alien and horrible, life-changing words ever.
Ever.
“Um...” He was supposed to pick up Joy? His throat seemed to shrink, pulling in on itself until it was a chore to breathe let alone get words out.
“I realize this is sudden, but Joy will be placed into child protective services until you arrive. We both know Kent and Dara’s top priority was Joy. So, the sooner we get her settled, the better. Don’t you agree?” The man stopped talking.
Something clicked in Audy’s brain. Of all the words Lawyer-man had said, one stood out. It was the sort of information that eased up just a little on the tightness of his throat and the panic hammering away inside his chest. “Co-guardian.” He sighed. Yes. He wasn’t the only one who had signed the papers that day. He wasn’t the only one who’d looked at Kent and Dara like they’d lost their minds... Thankfully.
“I called you first,” Lawyer-man continued. “I will call Miss Young once we hang up. Unless, of course, you’d rather?”
He shook his head. Chances were, she wouldn’t even take his call. “No, sir.” Besides, there was no way he was going to break Brooke Young’s heart. Brooke and Dara had been best friends since...well, forever. She’d been horrified that he’d been picked as Joy’s godfather and co-guardian—something that had tickled him pink at the time. Now? He’d never, in his whole life, been so relieved. He wasn’t alone in this, she’d signed those papers, too.
“Fine. Perhaps the two of you could arrange to make the trip together?”
“Yeah.” Audy didn’t want to take a long car ride with Brooke but it made the most sense to ride together. Truth be told, he wasn’t equipped to handle this. Not the accident or the passing of his friends or being a guardian to any living thing. But Brooke? She was. If he were smart, he’d stay out of the way and let Brooke handle this. “I’ll head over to her place now—should give you just enough time to call her and...let her know.”
Mr. Giles Vincent gave Audy the address of where to meet him and hung up.
“Well, Harvey.” Audy stared up at the blue sky overhead. “Looks like it’s going to be one humdinger of a day.” It could be worse—he could be alone in this. He wasn’t. Like it or not, he and Brooke were in this together. He was pretty sure that was a good thing. Wasn’t it?
CHAPTER TWO
BROOKE BEGAN ASSEMBLING foil sheets on the mobile cart, nodding as Mrs. Ruth Monahan—Miss Ruth to her friends—said, “You won’t believe what I heard—” Which is what the older woman said whenever she had an extra juicy something to tell.
“Just touching up the roots?” Brooke asked, needing an answer before Miss Ruth launched into one of her stories. No matter how many times she’d gently tried to get Miss Ruth to start toning down the fire-engine red that was only found in a bottle, Miss Ruth always said no. The senior citizen would say she might look old, but she didn’t feel old. And, until she felt old, she didn’t want to see a single gray strand on her head.
“Yes, yes, just the roots.” Miss Ruth nodded, her bright red curls bouncing. “Same as always.” Her gaze met Brooke’s in the large illuminated mirror at Brooke’s workstation—all but bursting with gossip.
“All right.” Brooke smiled. “Do tell, Miss Ruth. I can’t wait to hear.” While she didn’t necessarily approve of Miss Ruth’s fondness for being right in the middle of things that had nothing to do with her, Miss Ruth always had interesting tales to tell.
“It’s that Briscoe boy, again.” Miss Ruth shook her head. “I’ve been in this town forever and a day and I can tell you that there’s never been a Briscoe up to this much no good.”
Brooke didn’t have to ask which Briscoe. It would be Audy. It was always Audy. If there was a person that embodied the phrase “Trouble is my middle name,” it was Audy Eugene Briscoe. She was still bent out of shape over this morning’s run-in.
“You don’t say,” Brooke murmured, using the end of her comb to section off strands of red hair. Was she really going to have to listen to an hour-plus recounting of yet another one of Audy Briscoe’s antics? She had plenty of stories of her own. He’d been a braid-pulling terror on the elementary school playground, a point-and-laugh sort of bully in middle school, a conceited hot-or-not-list-making scholarship-stealing jerk in high school and a no-good bull-riding heartbreaker ever since. She didn’t have time for that sort of careless and reckless existence, she never had.
That is why she and Audy Briscoe didn’t see eye to eye. And never will.
“Sometimes I think that boy has a death wish.” Miss Ruth clucked her tongue, knowing not to move while Brooke was doing her hair. “You’d think he’d take more care—after his brother’s passing and all.”
Brooke nodded, in full agreement. Garrison, Texas, wasn’t a big town. It took pride in being a county seat, the county courthouse standing proudly in the middle of the downtown square. But it wasn’t the tidy storefronts or the myriad of festivals that set Garrison apart. For Brooke, it was how people looked out for one another. Some folk were closer than others, of course, but the faces and names of everyone who lived in her small town were familiar. There were a lot of Briscoes—six siblings, five surviving—but Gene and Audy were the ones everyone knew best. Gene had been the golden one, he’d been a good boy and he’d grown into a good man. He was respected and liked by all who knew him. When they’d heard he’d been killed overseas while serving in the army not a year after enlisting, the whole town grieved for him.
Audy? Well, everyone knew Audy for entirely different reasons. Ninety percent of those things weren’t appropriate to discuss in polite society.
“Now, I was not there to witness this firsthand, of course. One thing’s for certain, I’m long past the days of staying out into the wee hours of the night causing mischief. Not that I ever did such things, mind you.” She paused, winking. “It was Earl Ellis that gave me an earful about the whole thing when I went to pick up my new fertilizer spreader for my garden.”
; Brooke grinned, folding the foil around the short curl she’d coated with color. She could easily imagine Miss Ruth being a troublemaker in her heyday.
“Such foolhardy nonsense won’t stay innocent fun for long. I just hope those boys wise up before something happens to one of them.” The older woman sighed. “Once again, he and that RJ Malloy were up to no good—”
Of course they were. Even when they’d been little, Audy and RJ were causing trouble. Big trouble. Half the time they didn’t get caught—the other times, they got away with it.
“—running back and forth across the bullpens last night.” Miss Ruth sighed again.
That gave Brooke pause. “On the fairground?” She frowned. “But aren’t they—”
“Full of bulls for this weekend’s rodeo? Yes, ma’am, they certainly are. That was the whole point. I guess they were trying to see who could make it back and forth more times.” She lowered her voice. “But then Tyson Ellis showed up... You know Earl’s son, Tyson? Isn’t he doing a good job as the assistant city manager? And being in charge of the rodeos that come through? Such a good man, don’t you think? Ya’ll dated for a spell, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “I do and we did. He’s a good man.” Her phone started vibrating in her pocket, but she ignored it. If it was a client, they’d leave a message.
“Just not the one for you, eh? You know, when I was your age people weren’t so picky. I saw someone I liked, he liked me—that was that.” She blinked. “Where was I?”
“Tyson Ellis showed up.” Brooke finished the last foil wrap and began brushing color along the scalp, completely unperturbed by Miss Ruth’s slight deviation in the conversation. She’d been single in a small town for a long time and her singleness was a frequent topic of concern. No one seemed to believe her assertions that she was perfectly content as she was and in no hurry to settle down. Most people, especially Miss Ruth and her lady friends, didn’t understand that she preferred being the one making all the decisions in her life.
The Rebel Cowboy's Baby--A Clean Romance Page 2