Texas Bossa Nova (Texas Montgomery Mavericks Book 5)

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Texas Bossa Nova (Texas Montgomery Mavericks Book 5) Page 2

by Cynthia D'Alba


  “Crap.” Darren swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there scratching his head. “I was looking forward to sleeping in this morning.”

  “You have,” Reno replied. “It’s almost nine.”

  “No shit?” Darren’s gaze whipped around to his bedside clock. He stretched and stood. “I’ll go hack the ice.”

  “Good. I fed the herd already. I’m headed out to the barn to see to the horses.”

  “Fine. Is there coffee?”

  “Yep.”

  Darren lifted a pair of jeans off the back of a chair. “One of us needs to do some laundry.” He shoved his legs into the denim. “These jeans can almost stand by themselves.”

  “Your turn, bro. I did it last week.”

  “Remind me again why we fired the housekeeper.”

  “We didn’t. She quit after one look at your underwear.”

  Darren laughed and threw a dirty shirt at his brother’s head. “I think it was your socks that did her in.”

  “Not hardly.” Reno tossed the shirt back at his brother. “Catch ya later.”

  He headed downstairs to grab a cup of hot coffee to warm himself up before he headed out again. A kitchen, living room, office, bathroom and small bedroom made up the lower level of the ranch house he shared with his twin brother. Stepping off the bottom step into the living room, he glanced at the stack of ranching magazines piled by the fireplace listing to one side. They’d probably fall into a heap when Darren tossed the next magazine on top.

  When they’d bought the acreage to start up the D&R ranch, the house had been part of the deal. It was old and a little tired in appearance, but the walls were sturdy and the bathrooms worked, and for he and Darren, that was all that was important at the time. They’d been more interested in prime grazing land for their cattle than sleeping arrangements for themselves. But a couple of years had passed, and neither of them had had the time or energy to invest in whipping the house into better condition.

  Two housekeepers had come and gone in the past year. It wasn’t that Reno was a slob, but Darren? That was where the problem lay. Apparently, Reno had gotten all the neatnik genes and Darren had gotten all the good-looks genes. But truth to tell, mopping and dusting weren’t on Reno’s to-do list often either. He dragged his finger through the thick layer of dust on the coffee table. Maybe after the holidays were over, they’d give that housekeeper idea another try.

  Darren clomped down the stairs. “Why you are standing there looking at the table? Something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, if you don’t count the inch of dust.”

  Darren laughed. “Want me to invite Sarah Jane over to dinner again? You know she can’t stand the dust and will have the vacuum out before dinner.”

  As much as Reno hated to admit it—and he knew it wasn’t right—he gave some serious thought to letting Darren do just that. But Sarah Jane Mackey was too infatuated with Darren for her own good. Darren was a player. Sarah Jane was a marrying sort of girl.

  “No. Don’t do that. You know that girl has a serious thing for you.”

  Darren shrugged. “I can’t help it if I’m good looking.”

  Rene rolled his eyes. “Please. Our bulls are better looking.”

  Darren grinned.

  “Besides you should leave Sarah alone. She gets her hopes up when you ask her out.”

  “I’m honest with her,” Darren said. “She knows I’m not in the market for a wife.”

  “Neither of us are,” Reno agreed. “Keeping this ranch in working order and you in line is all I can handle right now.”

  “Kiss my ass,” Darren said with no heat in the insult. He headed into the kitchen but tossed over his shoulder, “I’m the one who keeps your butt going.” He poured a cup of coffee and took a long swallow. “Any problems this morning with the herd? Any new calves?”

  Reno shook his head and picked up the cup of coffee he’d left on the counter to refresh it. “Nope. But we might need to get that old indoor arena prepped in case we need to move the moms and calves in.”

  “This is Texas,” Darren scoffed. “Not Montana. We’ll be fine.”

  The brothers headed out at the same time but went in different directions. Reno walked down to the barn and let himself in through a small entry door, which helped keep the coldest air outside. Horses pushed their heads over stall doors and nickered as he walked past. Compared to outside, the barn was downright comfortable.

  “Yeah, well,” he told them, “be glad you ladies and gents are in here. It’s frosty out there.”

  Gordo, his gelding, shook his mane and nickered as though in disagreement. Reno reached up to rub Gordo’s neck. “You just think you want to run and play.” He pulled a carrot from his pocket and Gordo took it like he hadn’t had a meal in days.

  Reno had a treat for each of the other four horses in the barn, which he provided as he refilled water troughs and feed boxes. While he liked Sam, Archie, Layla and Jasmine, Gordo would probably always be his favorite. He hung around in the barn for another hour, taking care of some repair work on the bridles. Mostly, he dreaded beating his brother back to the house since one of them was going to have to do some housework. He figured first one back would be it.

  The twins had been raised on a ranch located in the middle of Florida where cold weather had been unusual thirty-degree temperatures that happened only a few nights out of the year. Growing up, he’d always felt the pull for Texas, but he hadn’t expected winters to be this cold, regardless of what his father had told him about his childhood in the Lone Star State.

  Of course, this winter was an aberration compared to the past two. It’d started earlier and with more force. But if the television weathermen were to be believed, this cold front would pass through and they’d be back in the forties and fifties by the New Year.

  Reno killed as much time as he could in the barn and then headed back to the house, resolved that he’d have to find where the last housekeeper had stored the vacuum. Maybe he could convince Darren to pick up his crap all over the house. After all, Christmas Eve was tomorrow night, and he knew their parents would be there sometime tomorrow. They had to break down and do some cleaning today, but only the bare minimum was needed. Their parents wouldn’t be staying with them. They’d had the good sense to book a suite in the Evergreen B&B in town.

  Magda was stunned at the first look of her father’s house. It looked so different. The hardwood floors shone as though cleaned and polished within an inch of their lives. The living room tables were clear of magazines and various clutter. The living room had been vacuumed recently. Even the fireplace mantle had a fresh shine. Who was living in Zeb’s house and what had they done with her father?

  The kitchen was like the living room, clean and neat. No dirty dishes in the sink. No moldy food in the refrigerator.

  She dropped her bags in the guest bedroom with its new curtains and patchwork bedspread. Not a trace of dust anywhere. It was as if he’d known he was having company and had hired a cleaning service to get everything ready.

  Snooping in Zeb’s personal space would be such an invasion of privacy, but that didn’t stop her from opening his bedroom door and taking a quick look inside. Bed made. Hardwood floors shiny. No dirty clothes tossed over the dresser. No nasty boots on the bathroom floor. Magda turned in a circle, looking around. The house was amazingly dirt-free and neat.

  This was not the Zeb Hobbs she knew.

  Something was definitely amiss here.

  And as much as she’d love to know what, her brain decided it’d had all it could take and refused to process any more facts at this time. Magda headed back to the guest room, stripped and hit the hall bath for a hot shower. Afterwards, she fell asleep as soon as she slipped between the fresh sheets.

  She awoke to her cell phone ringing. Stumbling out the bed, she staggered over to her coat and found her phone.<
br />
  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Magda Hobbs?” The female voice was unfamiliar to Magda.

  “Yes. This is Magda.” She pulled her phone away from her ear far enough to see the time but kept it close enough that she could hear. Two p.m. She’d been asleep for five hours.

  “Hold on. Your father would like to talk to you.”

  There was a rustling as the receiver changed hands.

  “Magda?”

  “Hi, Zeb. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine, honey. Just fine. Dr. Myles is going to do that cardiac cath test in about an hour. I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Right. I’m awake. I’m on my way.”

  “Blanche says the weather is clearing up so you should have no problem on the roads, but will you make your old dad happy and drive my truck? You know I hate that damn motorcycle.”

  Magda smiled. Her dad, who used to ride bulls professionally, thought her motorcycle was dangerous and she took too many chances riding it.

  “I will. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

  “The keys are in the kitchen on the hook by the back door.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll find them and be there soon.”

  As she hung up, she wondered who Blanche was. Knowing her dad, probably some cute nurse young enough to be another daughter.

  Magda made great time getting dressed and to the hospital. She was in Zeb’s room before he left for the cath lab. There was no Blanche there. She started to ask her dad who Blanche was but she let the subject drop when the tech came to take him.

  The waiting room for the cath lab was fairly empty when she followed Zeb down. But that probably wasn’t surprising given it was almost Christmas and only the most necessary tests were being done. The tech had told her it’d take about an hour. Magda watched the hands of the big wall clock inch around the face for the longest sixty minutes of her life. When the double doors hissed open and Dr. Myles walked out, she stood.

  “He did great,” Dr. Myles said. “He had a one-hundred percent blockage in one vessel and an eighty percent in another. I put a stent in the worst one and we’ll do the other one after the holidays.”

  “Why didn’t you go ahead and do both today? Is he that unstable?”

  Dr. Myles smiled. “No, no. Nothing like that. I like to do one at a time, so if there is a problem, I know where it is. If I did both of them and there was a problem, I couldn’t know for sure which artery had the issue. This way, when he comes back for the second stent, we’ll know the first stent is working as expected.”

  Magda nodded. “Got it.”

  “He’ll be a little sore and there could be some mild pain. He has to stay lying on his back with his legs straight for four hours.”

  “Okay. I’ll stay with him.”

  “He’ll be in recovery for an hour or so. You can go back and stay with him.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Myles.”

  “I’m going to keep him in the hospital for a couple of days, but he’ll be home and ready to ring in the New Year shortly after that.”

  She chuckled. “Great. Thanks.”

  “Happy holidays,” he said.

  “You too.”

  Magda stayed in recovery until Zeb was moved back to his room. The recliner looked promising, so she stretched out in it to sleep. But sleep didn’t come, at least not quickly. She knew she’d be facing the greatest threat to her heart tomorrow. Reno Montgomery. She had no doubt he’d be at the Montgomery dinner at Olivia and Mitch’s house. If there was a Montgomery family function, it was expected that all Montgomerys would attend. The Montgomery clan was tight that way.

  As far as she knew, her relationship with Reno was not common knowledge. Relationship. Even as she used the word, she flinched. Was that what they’d had? A relationship? A real connection? She didn’t know. What she did know was they’d come together like lightning and thunder. Their lovemaking had been hot and out of control. Their touches had been frantic and consuming. Their lust for each other hadn’t abated after each time together. Instead, sex between them had been gasoline poured on a fire. All flame and passion.

  No words of love had been professed. No promises for the future exchanged.

  And that’s how she’d known she needed to go. She’d known that much heat would incinerate her heart and leave her alone, just as it had for her mother.

  Chapter Three

  Christmas Eve morning, Magda woke with the worst crick in her neck. The recliner in Zeb’s room looked more comfortable than it actually was. The television was on and he was watching one of the morning shows.

  “Morning,” she said and stretched her arms over her head.

  “Merry Christmas Eve, honey.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “A little sore. My back is aching from lying flat so long yesterday.”

  “Do you want me to get the nurse to get you something for your back?”

  “Nah. I remember a bull once that made it hurt a whole lot more than this.” He pushed the button to raise his head higher. “Listen. I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  “Christmas presents. I was heading out to do my shopping the night my ticker decided to give me a good scare.”

  “Of course. Who and what?” She glanced around for a piece of paper and settled for yesterday’s newspaper. Retrieving a pen from his table, she prepared to write in the newspaper’s white margins. “Ready. Shoot.”

  “Pretty simple. Something for Mitch and Olivia. For Adam, I promised him a new cowboy hat. Get him something grownup looking, okay? Not a kid’s hat. For Eliza Grace, probably anything will do. At her age, she’ll probably like the wrapping paper better than the present anyway. I ordered your present, so you might want to check my post office box and see if there is a package. But if it’s there, don’t open it until tomorrow.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know.”

  “Go by the liquor store and make sure the ranch hands all get a fifth of Jack Daniels.” He hesitated and then cleared his throat.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Well…” He cleared his throat again. “I’ve been seeing this lady friend and I need to get her something.”

  “You old dog, you.” Magda hiked her eyebrows for effect. “Some sexy lingerie?”

  “She’s not like that.” His voice held a tone of censure. “She’s a nice woman.”

  “Oh.” Magda blinked a few times trying to take in what her father was actually trying to tell her. “Well, I might need some ideas for your lady friend. What’s her name, by the way?”

  “Blanche. Blanche Jenkins.”

  The tumblers in her mind fell into place. Blanche of yesterday’s phone call.

  “I see. Well, what would you like to get her?”

  “I don’t know,” he snapped. “Something nice. Pretty. Just use your judgment.”

  “Okay.”

  The room was quiet for a minute.

  “Um, do I know Blanche?”

  “Doubt it. She didn’t move to town until after you’d left.” Zeb’s voice was brusque and his tone sharp. She almost took offense until she realized that he was embarrassed or maybe nervous talking about this Blanche person. Very interesting.

  “I see. How about a scarf? Or a pair of gloves? Or does she collect anything? You could add something to her collection.”

  Her cell phone rang before he answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Magda? Olivia Landry.”

  “Good morning, Olivia. What’s up?”

  “Just checking on Zeb.”

  “He’s doing great. A little grumpy.”

  Zeb snarled at her and Magda snickered in response.

  Olivia laughed. “All men are little boys when they’re sick.”

  “Tru
e.”

  “Can Mitch or I do anything to help?”

  “Don’t think so. I’m doing some shopping this afternoon, but that’s about it.”

  “We’ll see you tonight, right?”

  “What time? What can I bring?”

  “Bring yourself. That’s it. Come about six.”

  “See you tonight.”

  After she clicked off, Magda leaned over and kissed Zeb’s cheek. “I’m heading out. Call me if you need anything.”

  Magda’s spirits were as light as meringue as she left the hospital. It was Christmas, her favorite time of the year. Plus, drunk Santa was far, far away. And she had presents to buy. As much as she personally hated shopping, using someone else’s money for payment put a whole different slant on it. What could be more fun than spending someone else’s money?

  The stores were crowded with last-minute shoppers. Present-wrapping lines were long. But it seemed as though most people were in the holiday spirit.

  The first gifts were easy. The last one, the present for Blanche, was much tougher. What did you buy for a woman you didn’t know that your dad was apparently seeing? Clothing was totally out since Blanche could be anywhere from a size two to size twenty-two. Besides, wasn’t clothing a little personal? So nothing that required sizing and yet was special. Now that was a tall order.

  She wandered through department stores sniffing lotions and perfumes and decided a woman’s scent was too intimate to buy for someone she didn’t know.

  Finally, she called Olivia. “Hi, Olivia. I know you’re busy getting ready for tonight, but I have a quick situation you might can help me with. Zeb said he’s seeing some woman named Blanche. I’m blanking on her last name. Jennings or Jacobson, or something like that. You know her?”

  There was a pause and then, “I do know her. Blanche Jenkins.”

  “Yeah. That’s her. I’m supposed to buy her a present from Zeb, but I have no clue what she might like. I don’t even know how old she is.”

  “Blanche is…” Olivia hesitated again. “Well, she’s closer to Zeb’s age than yours.”

  “Super. Do you know her well enough to know what she might want from Zeb for Christmas?”

 

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