Maverick

by Irish Winters

  “Looks like you’ve got enough help around here.” Maverick nodded toward X and Z. They’d rolled to a stop at the bunkhouse door and climbed out of the truck, two eccentric ranch hands if he had ever seen any.

  “Yes, I do. They’re good guys. X and Z help me as much as they can.” A shadow shifted through China’s eyes. Weariness pegged her tone. “You probably didn’t notice, but they’ve been drinking. Most likely they spent the afternoon at Shorty’s Saloon. I’ll bet that’s where they ran into my sister.”

  “What do they do when they’re not at Shorty’s?” What he meant was how could two old farts like them be any help?

  “They handle the heavy work, plowing, planting, and haying. X is a little shy on social skills. Z’s got a touch of arthritis coming on, but they’re good guys, just a little dog-eared like the rest of us.”

  “Reardon come around here often?”

  “He does now. Leezel used to run with the Kings. My sister...” China raked a hand through her hair, lifting a mass of curls to the top of her head and exposing an elegant neck in the process. “Let’s just say she’s got a different outlook on life than I do.”

  Damn, he didn’t want to look. But he did. With the setting sun behind her and her hair a mass of soft, black tangles, the golden glow cascading over her knocked the breath out of him. Other body parts noticed her, too, and not just her hair. The two buttons of her shirt had come undone in the hubbub, exposing the lacy top of a white bra that accentuated the swell of two fine, plump breasts.

  Of all the times not to be wearing his Oakleys.

  With every heaving breath she took, those pleasant girls swelled against the lace and enticed him. He debated telling her that her blouse was open, like a gentleman should have, but decided to keep his mouth shut and enjoy this very feminine side of a bossy woman. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. She might be embarrassed later when she discovered her wardrobe malfunction. Let her be.

  China took another look at her yard. She blew out a deep sigh. “Well, damn. No sense in crying over spilled milk. I’ll clean this in the morning. So. You come back for dessert?”

  Umm, yeah. Maybe.

  “No, ma’am.” Maverick shook his head to clear his stray thoughts. He looked China dead in the eye instead of at her cleavage. “Came back for that job.”

  “I don’t need pity.”

  The hard tone in her voice told him plenty. She knew how to use that Henry rifle and he had better watch his step. He countered with, “Neither do I.”

  Approval softened her features. Her chin jutted out enough for him to know she meant business. She lifted her head and turned into a damned boss. “Summer’s hard in these parts. You think you’re tough enough?”

  He shouldered his pack and guitar and headed to the bunkhouse. “Guess we’ll find out.”

  Chapter Five

  China watched him go. The man had guts, she had to give him that, but watching Maverick walk away gave her a whole new perspective. Squared-off shoulders, head held high and a lazy kind of arrogance to his gait. His hips rolled with every step, as if he had nowhere to go and all day to get there. If he wanted to go.

  He presented a strong profile no matter which way she looked at him. Right now, the rear view was pretty nice. A man in denim with long legs always worked magic on her insides. Yeah. The guy was F. I. N. E.

  Why he changed his mind and decided to stay was another thing all together. He might not stay long, but having an ex-military guy around for a day or two gave her an immediate sense of security. If he was anything like her father, and she was pretty sure he was, Maverick had nothing but honorable intentions. That was why he came back.

  She had the feeling that he had been to war, done his duty, and maybe gotten a little lost once he’d come home. The horses liked him. That alone spoke volumes about the drifter she had just hired. Well, good. I can use a lost but honorable man.

  It didn’t hurt that he looked good, too. Handsome and honorable. The perfect combination.

  She headed inside and upstairs to make up the extra bedroom for Leezel and her daughter, Kyrie. China caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. She hurried to button her blouse, her face flushed with the knowledge that he had to have seen more of her than she wanted.

  Darn it anyway. No wonder he decided to hang around.

  She traced the edge of her bra, her fingertips dipping between her breasts. It had been a long time since any man had seen her in anything but denim and button-up western shirts. Now this moody stranger might have gotten an eyeful. Somehow, that didn’t seem all too bad.

  Her heartbeat picked up an extra beat or two. Maverick Carson, huh?

  It wasn’t ten minutes later that Leezel pulled up the drive, her 1999 beater piece of crap rattling all the way to the front step. Two car doors slammed, but only one pair of pounding feet hit the porch. The screen door squeaked open and slammed shut.

  “Andy China?” a young girl’s voice called. “Is you here?”

  A smile split China’s face. For the next few days, she would be Andy China instead of Auntie China. “Up here. I’m in your room, baby girl.”

  More pounding feet hit the staircase. In no time at all, a grimy five-year-old bundle of excitement named Kyrie hit China.

  “Andy China!” Shenestled into China’s arms, breathless, her head pressed hard into her aunt’s shirt. “I missed you so-o-o much.”

  “I missed you too, angel.” China ran her fingers through the child’s tangled black hair and looked past the dirt and dry, scabby skin on her sweet face. She kissed her niece’s forehead and Kyrie sighed. For a moment, they just held each other tight, but China could’ve cried.

  Kyrie’s ragged clothes smelled as if they hadn’t been changed in days. Her tiny T-shirt barely covered her tummy, and her pants were so short she looked as if she had dressed for a flood. Kyrie had grown taller and thinner—again.

  The screen door slammed. Great. The only downside to Kyrie’s visit. Her mother. Leezel was back.

  “I’m here too, ya know,” she yelled up the stairs. Of course, Leezel wouldn’t think of wasting her energy by climbing the flight of twelve steps to greet China, even though her older sister was in the middle of making up the guest bedroom for her. Not Leezel. No way. No how. She would never change.

  “We’ll be right down.” China set Kyrie’s feet back on the floor.

  “Kin I hewp?” The little girl moved to the other side of the bed, smoothing the wrinkles out of the fitted sheet as she went. “Mommy showed me how. I kin make my own bed. Honest.”

  “Well, of course you can help. Here you go.” China lifted the flat sheet high in the air. For a moment Kyrie was visible between the sheet and the bed. China cringed. The little girl standing there with dark circles under her eyes needed to eat.

  Thank heavens Maverick had grilled all the chicken. Kyrie never had the option of becoming a picky-eater, not with her mother’s transient lifestyle. And Kyrie desperately needed professional help with her speech, another symptom of Leezel’s lax attitude toward parenting.

  “Did you make cookies?” she asked, fixing China with the same wide blue gaze.

  “I always have cookies for you, darling.” China tucked the bottom edge of the sheet under the mattress and tossed a light cotton blanket over the bed. “Did you remember your blankie?”

  Kyrie shook her head, her lip stuck out in a sad pout. “Uh uh.”

  “What happened? Did you lose it?”

  Kyrie barreled into her aunt’s embrace. “Mommy threw it away. I gotta be a big girl now.”

  That news ruffled China’s feathers. A five-year-old doesn’t have to be a big girl. Your mother ought to try being one for a change. “Well, let’s go have dinner and a couple cookies for dessert. I’ll see if I can find another blanket for you while you’re here. Would you like that?”

  “I missed you so much,” Kyrie whispered fervently. “I reawy, reawy did.”

  The love of that child stabbed China to the core
. She snagged Kyrie’s hand before she started to bawl. “After you eat, you can take a bath before bedtime.”

  “A bubba baff?”

  Kyrie was so easy to please. It warmed China’s heart.

  “An extra-bubbly bubba baff.”

  “Oh, goodie!”

  China all but skipped down the steps with Kyrie. The kitchen light was on. Leezel sat in their father’s chair with her long tanned legs stretched across the floor and crossed at the ankles. Good grief. Glittery red stilettos, a tinier than tiny tee and short shorts. Brassy red hair. A diamond studded belly button ring. Why not? Everything else was pierced, inked or dyed.

  She had fixed herself a plate of cold chicken and a handful of cookies. It amazed China that Leezel could fix something to eat for herself but forget her child might be hungry, too.

  “Long drive?” China leveled the sarcasm out of her voice and made a chicken sandwich for Kyrie.

  “No more ’n usual.” Leezel picked the meat off her piece of chicken with her fake fingernails. She might not be able to afford proper food for her daughter, but she never missed a manicure. The polish matched her hair color. “Heard you had company tonight, Sis.”

  “How did you hear that?” Not like it was hard to tell, with the yard torn up.

  Leezel shrugged. “Just did. A person hears things when they’re out and about. You oughta try it sometime.”

  “Guess I’ve been a little busy defending my property. Never mind. We’ll talk about that business with your ex later.” China bit her lip. Now wasn’t the time to discuss Reardon and his biker club, not in front of Kyrie. “Where have you been staying?”

  “Around. You got anything to drink?”

  “You know where the beer is. Are you back with Reardon?”

  “That all you got? Just beer? Hell. You’re as bad as the old man was. Too cheap to buy something folks might actually wanna drink.”

  “I buy what I need. Tell me where you’re living. With Reardon? You are, aren’t you?”

  “You oughta keep decent booze on hand for company. Maybe something stronger.”

  “Company can bring their own, Leezel. If you’re living with him again—”

  Leezel’s light blue eyes pierced China’s.

  Funny. We used to look so much alike, but now...

  Leezel licked her fingers, sticking each into her mouth and sucking, smacking her lips and still avoiding the question. The way she wrinkled her insolent nose always made China want to pop her, just once, but as usual, she didn’t. Their sisterly relationship balanced on a boatload of patience and just as much restraint on China’s part for Kyrie’s sake. Once Leezel returned home pregnant and homeless there had been no other choice.

  Troy Reardon. The bane of China’s existence. Unfortunately, Kyrie’s biological father. If Leezel had shacked up with him and his Kreeps again, China meant to enforce her threat and call the sheriff and Child Protective Services. Kyrie didn’t need to grow up in the middle of that crap.

  “I’m only going to ask you one—”

  “Oh, for hell’s sake, shut up. I’m staying at Vivian’s. She good enough for you? She goes to church.”

  China bit her lip. A church turned into a community center with free room and board for the janitor didn’t qualify as a church for worship, but it was safer than Hog Heaven, or whatever Reardon called his dive. Should’ve named it Krud in keeping with the whole K thing he seemed stuck on.

  China turned her attention to Kyrie, the irony of her name yet another slap in the face of propriety and decency. Reardon had chosen her name. Of course. Why wouldn’t he? It started with a K.

  The moron had no idea of its Greek origin or its reverent message. Coupled with its ancient partner, it became Kyrie Eleison. Lord, have mercy. The perfect name for a child with parents the likes of Leezel and Reardon. Lord, have mercy indeed.

  Kyrie had already devoured the first sandwich. She sat watching her mother and aunt’s conversation, her gaze bobbing back and forth.

  “Would you like another sandwich?” China asked.

  Kyrie nodded and rubbed her stomach. “Uh huh. I yike samiches. They yummy.”

  “See. Ain’t she the polite little lady? Told you I know how to raise a good kid.”

  China couldn’t answer. She had nothing nice to say as she fixed another sandwich and cut a slice of melon for the hungry child, who probably hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The way Kyrie gulped her food pained China. More than anything, she ached to throw Leezel out the door and run away with this baby. No child should have to live the kind of life Leezel lived, but then, no child should have a mother the likes of Leezel to begin with.

  “Are you still seeing your PO?”

  “Yes, mother, I’m still seeing my pro-ba-tion of-fic-er.” Sarcasm fit her. “Hell. I’m barely in the door and you’re giving me the third-degree. What the shit’s wrong with you?”

  Y.O.U. China bit her lip. Any question Leezel didn’t want to answer was third-degree.

  “And yes. I got her vaccinated. Damn. Don’t even ask. I told you I would. God, you’re as big a bitch as ever. You oughta try hanging around with a guy now and then instead of all those damned horses. Now, can I please be excused like the good girl I am or should I stay here and put up with you?”

  You can go to hell for all I care.

  “Andy China?” Kyrie asked. “Kin I have—”

  “Kyrie! Don’t you dare—” Leezel’s hand whipped across the table, but China was quicker. She grabbed her sister’s wrist before she made contact with Kyrie’s frightened little face. That the child cowered spiked China’s anger from high simmer to flaming.

  It was clear this baby had been hit before. Never again.

  Kyrie’s eyes filled with tears, her voice quavering. “I… I sowwy, Mommy. I forgot.”

  China had made up her mind long ago that her home would be filled with peace, quiet, and children if the opportunity ever presented itself. Physical discipline wasn’t something she visited upon her horses, and she wouldn’t allow it on an innocent little girl.

  She steeled her temper. “You might have forgotten since you’ve been gone a while, Leezel, but Auntie China’s got a rule. We don’t hit anyone. Ever.”

  Leezel jerked her hand out of China’s, her upper lip lifted on one side, her teeth bared. She wouldn’t stay long, only enough to eat decently for a change, and to steal any loose change she could get her hands on, or worse, something that belonged to their father. She needed a place to crash and something to pawn. That was the only reason she had driven the fifteen miles from town.When she left, poor little Kyrie would be at her mercy again, so China walked the tightrope every damned time.

  Leezel arched a wicked eye at her daughter. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Kyrie’s face hit the floor. Her lower lip, too.

  China couldn’t take it. She picked Kyrie up from her chair and swung her around in a circle before she hugged her tight. “It’s bath time, little miss.”

  Kyrie cuddled into her aunt’s arms with an extra quiet, “’Kay.”

  China shielded her from Leezel’s view while they walked down the hall and into the bathroom. “And I’ve got pink bubba baff, just for you. And a pink frog that blows bubbles out of the top of his head, like a fountain. Just you wait and see. He’s wearing a gold crown.”

  Kyrie had turned into a very serious and obedient child. As soon as the bathroom door was shut, she turned to China, her lip quivering and her eyes full of tears. “I vewy sowwy, Andy China. Mommy says I—”

  “You shush now. You have nothing to be sorry about in Auntie China’s house. Never in a million years. You’re the most beautiful girl in the whole world and I’ll make you as many chicken sandwiches as you want.” China’s heart broke. She held her niece tight, her face in Kyrie’s dirty, tangled hair so the child wouldn’t see her cry.

  “I is boo-ti-foo?” Kyrie’s sniffed. “Reawy? I is?”

  China pressed Kyrie to her chest while she turned the bath water on. N
othing filled her heart like this child. She kissed Kyrie’s grubby forehead again and again. If there were any way to hold her niece forever, she would do it. Oh yes. She would give up everything to keep this baby safe and make her happy. “You’re so perfect that the angels in heaven cried for happiness the day you were born because they’d never seen such a beautiful little girl like you.”

  Kyrie scrunched her shoulders. “I yike angels.”

  China scrunched her shoulders just like Kyrie. “Me too, baby. Me, too. And you are definitely my favorite.”

  “Can I pour bubba baff? Pwease?” Kyrie asked very quietly.

  Her hesitance stabbed China all over again. She handed the bottle of to Kyrie. “Sure. Do you know how to open it?”

  “Uh huh.” Kyrie nodded, her tongue sticking out as she unscrewed the cap and tipped the bottle slowly. Too slowly. The teeniest drip plopped out under the running faucet. She glanced over her shoulder at China. “Is that okay?”

  China sat on the edge of the tub. “Go on. Pour some more. You need lots of bubbles.”

  Kyrie poured another teensy bit, again watching for her aunt’s reaction.

  “Tip it upside down. Pour it all in if you want. That’s why I bought it.”

  Kyrie handed the bottle back with a serious shake of her head. “Mommy might not—”

  China snagged the bottle and tipped it upside down. A stream of pink liquid hit the flowing water and suds commenced to billow. Kyrie’s eyes lit up and her cute angel lips made the sweetest, silent wow.

  “Mommy can’t get mad at Auntie China, can she? Now let’s get your clothes off so you can play with all those bubbles.”

  “Oh goodie!” In a minute, Kyrie was in the tub and just another naked little girl with suds in her hair and a happy, clean face.

  China shampooed and bathed her niece to her heart’s content. Everything about this darling child made her exquisitely happy. They mounded bubbles into mountains just to blow them apart. She styled Kyrie’s shampoo-laden hair into licorice-colored swirls until they had a spike twisted around the top of her head. China took a handful of bubbles and blew them high into the air so they’d fall all over Kyrie. The little girl squealed with delight. No better music in the world.