Lone Star Longing (Hearts of Broken Wheel, #1)

by Fredrick, MJ

  “I can’t get anyone to come out here, yet, and I don't know how long it will last.”

  “But you know how to fix it?”

  “I do. I’m going to put in a new toilet, too.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that toilet.”

  “Sure, but in case there is, I didn't want to drive all the way back into town to buy a new one.”

  “Throwing your money away. It better not be one of those low-flow toilets.”

  “Now where have you gone that has a low-flow toilet?” he demanded.

  “The church installed them. Said we were being environmental. Have to flush three or four times to get everything to go down.”

  He was pretty sure she was exaggerating.

  “Not low-flow, though that wouldn't be a bad idea. Why don't you go to the bathroom before I get started? I don't know how long it’s going to take, and I have to turn the water off.” He needed to find the shut-off valve, first. Shouldn’t be too hard, if he followed the water lines.

  “Have you had lunch?” she asked.

  He’d thought about stopping, but didn't want to get something when he didn't know if she’d eaten. “Nah. I thought we’d go get dinner after I’m done in here.”

  Her brows snapped together. “You’re pretty confident in yourself.”

  “Maybe. Maybe I’m going to have to put you up in the motel tonight, too.”

  “I’m not going to stay there. I already told you.”

  “And you’re not staying out here without water,” he countered. “Let me find the shut-off valve and get to work before we head into town.” He walked back out the door.

  God, this was going to be a nightmare, he realized when he stood in the tiny bathroom where he and his siblings had taken so many baths, spent so much time when they were younger, just for some privacy. Technically, he should take out the vanity, too, but he didn't have another to replace it, and the sink was mounted to it. He was just going to patch the floor, replace the toilet. That was all he could do before he headed to Las Vegas tomorrow.

  He wasn't even going to bother tearing up the linoleum. He just struck at the soft point of the floor and punched a hole in it, then pried up the board, which pretty much splintered into dust.

  Hell. This was going to be worse than he thought. He punched another hole to widen it enough for his hand, and when he knelt to pull it up, he heard it.

  Rattling. Under the floor.

  “Shit!”

  “Don't you cuss in my house, Mister!” his mother shouted from down the hall.

  Fascinated, but smart enough to keep his distance, he pried up more boards until he saw the space under the house. He pulled out his phone and flicked on the flashlight to illuminate the space.

  The ground was moving, and occasional glint caught the light as the snakes—yes, plural—moved around, disturbed by the construction.

  “Shit shit shit shit!”

  “Beck!”

  “Mom, bring the gun.” But no, he didn't want her coming in here, and freaking out. “No, I mean, call an exterminator. One who takes care of snakes.”

  “What in the world are you doing?” His mother’s heavy footsteps made their way down the hall.

  “There’s a nest of goddamn rattlers under your bathroom!” His pulse was racing, his palm itching for a gun.

  She smacked the back of his head, moving faster than he expected. “Do not take the Lord’s name in vain in my house.”

  “Mom. Snakes. Under your floor. Gun, please.”

  But he decided not to wait for her to bring it to him, pushing past her down the hall to grab it from its rack himself.

  LACEY PARKED THE CAR in front of the Conover house just as a shotgun blast roared from inside, echoing off the walls of the bluff.

  She froze, her hands on the wheel. Then she reached for her phone to call the sheriff.

  But no, she didn't have a signal out here. God, what was she going to do? Beck was here—his truck was parked in her usual spot. If Beck had lost patience with his mother and killed her, Lacey didn't want to walk in on that and risk her own life, and that of her baby.

  But she didn't think that was the case. Mrs. Conover could make anyone crazy, but Lacey didn't think Beck had a short temper. God, what kind of fool would she be to walk into a house after hearing a gunshot?

  She was a nurse, though, and if someone was hurt, she needed to help.

  Her dad had insisted she carry a gun, since she was always out, and in some isolated places. He wanted her to be able to defend herself from predators, human or otherwise. He taught her how to shoot and made sure she had her concealed carry license. She always had the gun in the car, but had never needed it.

  She hoped she didn't need it now.

  Gun in hand, shoulders squared, she marched up to the house, shaking in her sensible shoes. She mounted the steps with just about the last of her strength just as the door swung inward and Beck stepped into view from the shadows, eyes wild.

  God, he had lost his mind and shot his mom.

  She brought up her gun and took the stance her father had taught her, though she knew she couldn't pull the trigger, not at this close range.

  Immediately his eyes dropped to the gun and his hands went up, empty of weapons. Behind him, his mother appeared, shotgun tucked under her arm, and Lacey’s own stance wavered in shock, the barrel of her pistol dipping toward the porch.

  Mrs. Conover scowled. “What are you doing in my house with a gun?”

  “I—heard a shot.” She couldn't stop her voice from sounding accusing. Lacey double-checked the safety before lowering the pistol awkwardly to her side. She’d left her bag in the car, and the gun was too big for the pocket of her scrubs.

  “Snakes,” Beck said, a little out of breath himself. “Rattlers. Under the floor of the bathroom.”

  A chill washed over Lacey’s entire body. She had made a point never to use the bathroom of her clients, but she had cleaned them week after week. And the floorboards of Mrs. Conover’s bathroom weren’t the sturdiest. Her knees weakened a little before she got a hold of herself.

  “Yeah, we’re going to have to get an exterminator out here before we do repairs. Meanwhile, I need to move my mother into the motel.”

  “Hell no, I’m not going there,” Mrs. Conover exclaimed. “I’ll go finish off those snakes myself.” She turned back toward the hall.

  Beck caught her arm, dropped it almost immediately. “You can’t. If you hit a pipe and it ricochets, or punches a hole in it, we’ll have a worse situation on our hands. Just...get a few things and I’ll drive you over to the motel.”

  “You think snakes are bad, no telling what old man Aguilar will have there. That motel is older than I am.”

  “Yeah, but it’s been completely remodeled and updated,” Beck told her. “I’ve been staying there and it’s pretty nice. New beds and sheets and carpets and fixtures. And you can’t stay here. The bathroom is all torn up. It’s unusable. Please, Mom, just go pack a few things, and as soon as I get you settled, I’ll get someone out here as quickly as possible to exterminate and repair.”

  Lacey recognized the stubborn expression on Mrs. Conover’s face. She was not going to be swayed, no matter the inconvenience.

  “Unless you have a friend you’d rather stay with,” Beck persisted.

  “I will stay here, and I will dig a hole in the yard to do my business before I go stay in town.”

  “Mrs. Conover, you can barely walk down the steps. How are you going to do that?” Lacey said quietly. “Really, at the motel, you’ll be on your own, they have cable TV, you can even order in from the diner.”

  “How do you know all this?” Mrs. Conover demanded, eyes narrowed.

  Lacey stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “Everyone knows. They have signs. I mean, the Aguilar family has owned it for years. They were the first ones to get cable, remember? I used to go watch with Sofia when we were younger. Come on, I’ll help you pack. Do you have a suitcase? Or should I get
some bags from the kitchen?”

  She didn't wait for an answer, just guided the older woman down the hall to her room. She could sense Beck relaxing a bit behind her.

  Lacey didn't look into the bathroom as they passed, as if just by looking she would see a snake crawling through the open floorboards. She suppressed a shudder.

  Once Mrs. Conover got into the bedroom, she dropped to the bed and set her shotgun against the wall. Her shoulders slumped.

  “Let’s check your sugars and your blood pressure before we do anything else. I’ll go get my bag out of the car.” She wanted to put her gun away, too.

  “My blood pressure’s going to be through the roof.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure mine would be, too. I’ll be right back.” She took the shotgun in her free hand, to give to Beck to put back in its place on the wall.

  “Thank you for that,” Beck said, when she walked out on the front porch.

  “For what?” she asked with a breathless laugh.

  “For getting her to listen to reason. For coming in to protect her. I mean, that was what you were doing, weren’t you?” He turned to face her and folded his arms over his chest. “You were coming in to protect her from me?”

  “I didn't know what was going on,” she said, taking a small step back and lowering her gaze to the warped boards of the porch. “I didn't know what to do. I just thought that if someone needed help, well, I’m a nurse. I didn't know what might have happened.”

  “Thank you,” he said again. “It’s...I know she isn’t easy. She wants to be independent and it just isn’t possible and I want to thank you for the patience you show her.”

  “I am not always patient,” Lacey replied.

  “Well, that’s good for her, too. She needs to have some push-back, you know, or she’s just going to run over you.”

  “I really need to get her blood pressure and her sugar level tested.” She edged past him to the steps. “Get her packed before she talks herself out of leaving.”

  He looked at her a long moment before he moved out of her way.

  She hurried down to the car, replaced her gun in the glove compartment, grabbed her bag and hurried back to the house, past Beck, who hadn’t moved.

  “You can still check on her, right? In the motel?”

  “Of course.” It would be easier, but she didn't say so, and ignored him when she walked past him into the house.

  Chapter Six

  “YOU ALREADY HAVE A room here. Why would you pay for a second room? I could just stay with you.”

  Beck tried to hide his horror as he looked from Sofia, who was manning the desk at the motel, to his mother.

  “Mom. We haven’t lived together in over a decade. We are not going to share a room and a bathroom. No. Just, no. I have the money. I don't mind paying. Besides that, I’m not going to be here after tomorrow. I’ve got to get to Las Vegas, and it’s not a short trip.”

  Beck wished Lacey had come with them to the motel. He could have used her help keeping his mom calm, because she argued with every decision he made, which room he picked, how long he told Sofia she was going to stay. He was actually surprised she stayed in the first room she was assigned. But then, she stripped the bed and bullied him into helping her make the bed with her own sheets and comforter.

  He worked quietly, even when she snapped at him that he wasn't doing it the way she’d taught him. He didn't want to tell her that he very rarely made his own bed. Hell, he was never in one place long enough to make a bed. But finally she was satisfied with his hospital corners, before she marched into the bathroom.

  He sat on the chair by the edge of the bed, and pulled out the list of phone numbers Mr. Nazareth had given him. He left messages when no one answered, and he wondered if someone had put word out about the job, that it was one to be avoided.

  “Let’s head over to the diner,” he said when his mother emerged from the bathroom.

  “You and Lacey told me the diner delivers.” His mother reached for the remote and clicked on the TV. “I want to see what’s on cable.”

  “Mom, you’re going to be spending enough time in here. Why don't we go out and see people while we have a chance?”

  “Because I don't like people. Why do you think I live where I live?”

  Well. He’d figured that out long ago. But the longer she was alone, the harder it was for her to be sociable. He felt like he needed to push her to be part of the town. Even if she didn't like it, really, he didn't want the town to forget about her.

  “Come on, Mom. After dinner you can watch cable for days, but let’s get something to eat first.” He probably shouldn’t push it, because she was going to be rude to anyone they saw if he put her in a bad mood.

  She gave him a look, but then set down the remote and picked up her purse. “Shouldn’t be too busy this early.”

  He motioned for her to lead the way.

  She didn't want to walk the distance, but he insisted, knowing they wouldn't save that much effort by driving over. So they walked the two blocks to the diner, and he ignored the glare she sent him when she spotted an empty parking spot right in front of the door.

  She walked into the diner waving her hand furiously in front of her face. Sure, the day was warm, but the sidewalk was in the shade.

  She plopped down at the table closest to the door and glared at the waitstaff, who, almost as one, turned so they could pretend not to see her.

  “How long do you think it will take them to notice us and come serve us?”

  “Mom. You haven’t even had time to look at the menu.”

  “It’s not like they put new things on here. It’s always the same. And I know what I want.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t. And I have the exterminator meeting us here in like an hour.”

  “Meeting you here?”

  “Well, yeah, we want to get him hired as soon as possible, and it’s too late for him to go back out there tonight to look.”

  “So why do you need to meet with him? Why couldn't you just do it over the phone?”

  “He wants to be paid half in advance and won’t take payment over the phone.”

  “Are you crazy? Why would you pay him in advance? He won’t come out if you do that.”

  “He won’t come out if I don’t."

  “I won’t want to be here for an hour.”

  “All right, fine, if you can’t sit here that long, then you can walk back to the motel and I will wait for him. But it needs to be done. The longer that floor is open, the worse it will be.” Honestly, at this point, he just wanted to burn the whole damn house down to get rid of those snakes. He wished Broken Wheel had apartments or something where he would feel comfortable leaving his mother. He didn't like her living out of town, but she wanted to be independent. The motel wouldn't do for long, but he wished he could find a secure place for her to live.

  He was going to have to come back next week.

  “Catherine! I can’t believe I’ve seen you in town twice in a week!”

  Both Beck and his mother snapped their heads around as a large woman with hair an unlikely shade of black descended upon the table. She clapped a large hand on Beck’s shoulder and left it there, though every instinct in him wanted to throw it off.

  “Beck, good to see you. How long has it been since you’ve been in town?”

  “A while, and I’m leaving again tomorrow.”

  “Oh, well, that’s not very good for your mom, now, is it? She’s out there all alone, and she’s not getting any younger.”

  The woman, vaguely familiar to Beck and distasteful to his mother, if her expression was anything to go by, pulled a chair out and joined them without an invitation.

  “Did I hear right about Lacey Davila? Isn’t she your home healthcare nurse? She’s expecting? I don't know these days, why these young people are so reluctant to do things in the right order. Get married first, then have your baby. And I guess she’ll be doing it by herself since that man of hers is overseas.”
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br />   “What’s going on, now?” Beck couldn’t stop himself from asking.

  “She hasn’t said anything to me,” his mother said. “You must be mistaken. She’s not the kind to get herself in trouble like that.”

  The woman gave his mother a look beneath her eyelashes. “You know it happens to all kinds. Yeah, that’s what I heard. Her dad told Marianne Skyler, all proud as a peacock that he’s going to be a grandpa, though I really don't think it’s his first time. Didn't Tanya have a baby a few years back? Of course, none of those kids come to see him, do they? Lacey’s the only one who has anything to do with him, which I don't think is right at all.”

  Beck looked at his mother, whose mouth was twisted in disapproval.

  “Don't you dare let her go because of this,” Beck said to his mom. “If it’s true, she’s going to need the income.”

  “She won’t be able to work like she used to.”

  “I can’t see her stopping, unless her health gets bad. Mom, don't judge her.” He knew his mother well enough to know this was exactly what she was doing. Damn, small towns sucked. People could be so small-minded.

  And he focused on that, because he didn't want to face the disappointment that dropped his own gut, knowing Lacey was pregnant with another man’s child. He didn't even know another man was in the picture.

  He shouldn’t think about her one way or another. He wasn't staying. Just because he thought she was cute, and pretty brave, actually, coming into his mother’s house with a gun when she didn't know what she’d find. Yeah, he’d thought that was hot as hell.

  His usual type was carefree and no-strings-attached, the opposite of serious Lacey. He had no desire to get tied down, not to a girl, not to a place, especially not a place like this. Damn. He hated this town. Couldn't wait to get out of here. He didn't need to have sentiment for a pregnant nurse, who had a man anyway.

  Irritated with himself, he pushed away from the table and approached the cluster of waitstaff standing by the drink station.

  “Would it be possible to get someone to wait on us?” His sharp tone surprised even himself. What was he doing, getting so worked up about the news that Lacey was pregnant? He barely knew her, and he was taking his frustration out on some kids. He didn’t not want to be like his mother, taking her unhappiness out on everyone. Hell, he didn't even know what he was going to order, and now he had all these kids looking at him aghast.