Fearless in Texas

by Kari Lynn Dell

  She stepped over to the corral. The piebald nudged at her with his nose, and she rubbed his forehead, grateful for something to do with her hands. He wasn’t much to look at, but he was in excellent shape, his shoulders and flanks thick with muscle. On closer inspection, she could see that at least half of the fence rails had been replaced, the ends freshly cut and smelling of sawdust and pine sap. The dilapidated shelter also sported new brace posts and patches on the roof, and the stack of hay bales alongside was neatly covered with an old truck tarp tied to concrete cinder blocks.

  As Hank stepped away from the camper to prop his arms on the side of the corral opposite her, she could see that, unlike Norma, his hair was clean and his clothes, jacket aside, had seen a washing machine in recent memory…and nobody washed their chore coat.

  She ran her fingers through the horse’s forelock. “Nice spot. What do you do other than keep the place up?”

  “She’s got a couple dozen cows running around in the hills.” His lip curled at the irony. “Yeah. My favorite.”

  Geezus. Hank was voluntarily herding cattle? This was worse than Melanie had thought. “She owns this place?”

  “Nah. It’s tribal land, but if they run her out of here, they’d just have to put her somewhere else. And it’s open range, so the cows go wherever somebody doesn’t fence ’em out.”

  Which accounted for the cattle they’d seen grazing the road ditches. “Does she actually pay you?”

  “Only in beef and venison. She is a damn good shot. I scrounge up enough pocket money to keep gas in the generator and beer in the fridge. Don’t need anything else.” He made a show of looking around. “Guess we coulda picked up a little, but we aren’t in the habit of entertaining.”

  Anger sparked at his snotty tone. “I heard they have a phone at the Babb store. If you’d bothered to call, I wouldn’t have had to sneak up on you.”

  “Sorry.” His gaze settled on her, unrepentant as his voice. “Didn’t mean to drag you away from work.”

  The barb struck home, but she refused to let him see her flinch. “No problem. I’m what you would call between jobs.”

  “You finally told the Leech where he could shove it?” For an instant he was startled out of his shell, but she only caught a glimpse before he retreated behind a sneer. “Wonders will never cease.”

  She shrugged, matching his attitude. “I screwed up. Got involved with a client who turned out to be married. Let’s just say when I found out, I didn’t take the news well…and now I’ve got all kinds of time on my hands.”

  “So you figured you might as well put them on Wyatt.”

  A denial leapt to her tongue, but she swallowed it. She refused to lie, and she hadn’t come here to explain or excuse herself. “I just wanted to be sure you’re okay.”

  “Well, now you’ve seen for yourself.” He spread his arms, inviting her to see that no, he was not okay, or anywhere in the vicinity. But he was alive and physically healthy. For now. He shook his head. “You can stop looking at me like that. I decided not to rid the world of my presence.”

  “Don’t say that!” she snapped.

  The horse shied, then ambled off to lip at the remainder of his morning hay.

  Hank held up both hands, palms out. “Just kiddin’, Sis. You used to have a sense of humor.”

  I also used to have a bright future and a brother who called me every Sunday. “It’s been stretched a little thin lately.”

  They stared at each other across the corral, each tense second loaded with all the things she couldn’t say and didn’t want to hear.

  She detected a softening in his expression—or manufactured it out of the flickering shadows. “I had a bad moment in Toppenish. It hurt like hell, and I’m literally gonna be paying for it for the rest of my life, so I’m not keen on tryin’ that again.”

  She drew a deep, steadying breath. “How long do you think you’ll stay?”

  “Dunno.” He cocked his head toward the pickup. “How long you plannin’ to sleep with the enemy?”

  “Wyatt is not—” Hell. She didn’t even know where to start, and from the way Hank’s jaw had tightened, there was no explanation that would suffice. “Could we forget about that? I just want to talk to you.”

  He squinted, then rubbed his chin, making a show of thinking it over. “You know how Miz Iris always says you can judge a man by the company he keeps?” He jerked his head toward the pickup. “If that’s how you want to hang, then we don’t have anything to talk about.”

  “Hank. Wait!”

  But he’d already turned his back. He paused only to lift one hand and flip his middle finger. “Pass that along to the condescending prick and tell him ‘no’ still means ‘hell no.’”

  And then he was gone, swallowed up by the shadows beneath the trees.

  “I love you anyway,” she whispered. The same words she’d said every time she’d bailed him out of whatever mess he’d managed to get into. Hank wouldn’t have heard her if he’d been standing three feet away.

  Melanie clenched her hands on the fence rail. The rough bark dug into her palms, a counterpoint to the raw ache in her chest. Dammit. Why had she brought Wyatt? It would have eliminated any chance at a civil conversation even when Hank was still…Hank. She took a moment to breathe through the worst of the pain, then pushed away from the corral and headed for the pickup. The door swung open, and Wyatt stepped out. Bing must have been watching, too, because she came out of the trailer with Norma stumping along behind. Wyatt watched her intently but didn’t say anything, just held the door.

  Bing climbed behind the wheel, also silent. No one spoke until they bounced from the dirt track onto the main gravel road.

  “Is that an arena?” Wyatt asked, pointing down the river.

  “Yes. There’s a bar and restaurant up on the hill. They have team roping and open rodeos all summer. Hank comes over and helps out to earn a little spending money.”

  Melanie’s head jerked up. “Fighting bulls?”

  “They asked. He said no.” Bing’s tone implied that his refusal had not been a polite one.

  Melanie closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head. “I can’t believe he won’t even try…”

  “Can’t.” Bing corrected. “Not until he makes peace with what happened to that boy.”

  “How’s he going to do that out here all alone, with no one to help?” Melanie demanded.

  Bing raised her eyebrows.

  Melanie made a frustrated noise. “But he’s down there with nothing…”

  “Exactly. I found him a place where there are no expectations to live up to. No one to let down.” Bing shot her a pointed look. “From what I’ve been able to pry out of him, that’s a nice change.”

  Melanie felt her face going hot. Yes, she’d lost her temper and her patience at times, but dammit, she’d also been the one cheering him on. She’d paid the tuition for a bullfighting clinic when their dad refused, then driven Hank all the way to Stephenville for the damn thing, missing two good rodeos in the process.

  She hadn’t fought for him all these years to just walk away now.

  Bing heaved a big I told you so sigh. “This is why I didn’t want to take you down there. You only see what it’s not. Did you even notice what is there? When he first came, he barely set foot out of that camper. Lately, he’s been fixing on the corral and barn, riding that ol’ horse for hours through the hills, working over at the arena a couple of days a week. I even got my nephew to drag him to open gym nights at the grade school a few times. It might not sound like much, but from where he started…”

  Melanie blew out a long, shuddering breath. “And I’m supposed to just leave him, and expect a bunch of strangers to care as much about him as I do.”

  “I doubt we can manage that.” Bing’s face softened. “You are his sister. But I will look out for him. It’s what I do.”


  And it was what Melanie had always done. Now Bing thought she could waltz in and do a better job of it?

  Melanie stewed all the way back to the plane. When they arrived, she was stunned to realize it was only twelve thirty. They hadn’t even been on the ground for two hours, but there was no reason to hang around.

  She would be back, though—alone and with a plan.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to eat before you go?” Bing asked as she pulled to a stop.

  “We just had pie,” Wyatt reminded her, even though he hadn’t eaten any. “And if the trip home is anything like coming over, we’re better off on an empty stomach.”

  Melanie leaned against the pickup beside Bing while Wyatt untied the plane and did his preflight inspection. Satisfied, he came over and extended a hand to Bing.

  “We appreciate your help.”

  “You’re welcome.” She turned and folded Melanie into an unexpected hug. “I’ll keep you updated.”

  “Thank you,” Melanie whispered. “And thanks for everything you’ve done for him. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. It’s just…”

  “I know.” Bing patted her back, then turned her loose, gave a final wave, and drove away.

  Melanie stood watching the pickup bump over the grass and onto the highway, oblivious to the chilly wind that whipped her ponytail like a flag. She started when Wyatt put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Do you want to stay?” he asked quietly. “I can arrange a rental car, and we could go back to see him again tomorrow…”

  She shook her head, especially at the we. “It would be a waste of time.”

  Even if she went to Norma’s alone, in a place like this, Hank was bound to hear if Wyatt was anywhere in the vicinity. She took in the mountains, the river, the lake. It was incredibly gorgeous. And maybe Bing was right. It could be good for Hank. For now.

  She turned abruptly toward the plane, shaking off Wyatt’s hand when she would rather have curled into the hard, reassuring heat of his body. She’d dragged him along to see Hank without a second thought, a flashing red sign that she was already becoming way too accustomed to leaning into his strength.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said.

  He didn’t argue. She supposed the gist of her thoughts was obvious to a man who knew her way too well. When they were settled in, seat belts securely fastened, Wyatt handed her an airsickness bag.

  She tried to push it away. “I was fine on the way over.”

  “And you’ll probably be fine on the way back.” He shoved the bag onto her lap. “But just in case. You are not puking purple all over my cabin.”

  She didn’t have the energy left to fight even this tiny battle, so she kept the damn thing. “Whatever. Take me home, Chuck.”

  Chapter 37

  Melanie woke with a visible start when the wheels touched down. After their night in the woods, Wyatt could tell if she was sleeping…or faking it so she didn’t have to talk to him about what had passed between her and Hank. He knew the act had become reality when she started twitching and mumbling.

  Was it the stress, or was she like him—incapable of shutting down completely? He wanted to know. Just once, he wanted to be with her for reasons other than crisis control. To hold her, touch her, watch her sleep just for the mutually agreed-upon pleasure of it.

  He also wanted world peace and an end to global warming.

  She blinked groggily and scrubbed a hand over her forehead. “How did I doze off on that carnival ride?”

  “After we refueled, I took a detour and found smooth air over southern Idaho and the low end of the Blues.” He turned off the runway and taxied toward the area reserved for private aircraft. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

  “Not that you’d notice.” She yawned hugely and checked the clock. It wasn’t quite five o’clock Pacific time. “Wow. You can cover a lot of territory in a day with this thing.”

  He nodded, then switched over to the ground frequency and radioed Pendleton Aviation that he was going to tie up instead of hangaring his plane for the night and wanted it fueled for takeoff to Reno the next morning. Heat radiated up through the soles of his shoes when they stepped out onto the asphalt.

  Melanie tilted her face into the mid-afternoon sun, soaking it up. “Ahhh! I thought I was never going to be warm again. I don’t know how Hank…”

  She trailed off with a shake of her head, clearly not ready to discuss her brother. Still in her thinking space. When she emerged, would she jump in her car and drive straight back to Montana? Without Wyatt. He might not have heard what was said, but the gestures Hank had made toward him had been crystal clear.

  Wyatt should apologize for tagging along. He’d known what would happen when Hank saw him, but for Maddie’s sake—and for Grace’s—he’d had to judge the situation for himself. The fact that Melanie had allowed his presence was testimony to how scared she’d been about what she might find out in those woods.

  Once again, Wyatt was the lesser of available evils…and pathetically grateful to be even that much to her. Saying he was sorry would be just one more lie.

  While Wyatt tied the plane down and went through his postflight routine, Melanie strolled over to a vending machine beside the door to the flight school office. She’d pulled her hair out of the ponytail, and it rippled in the breeze as she sauntered toward him with a Coke in each hand, a leggy, loose-hipped all-American fantasy girl.

  He downed half the Coke in the first few gulps. Damn, that tasted good. When he lowered the can, he took the chance of asking, “How are you doing?”

  “I’m not sure yet. But I do know I’m starving.” She visibly shook off the clouds that darkened her eyes. “Burgers?”

  “Race you to the car.” And this time, he won.

  * * *

  When they emerged from the drive-through, Wyatt asked, “Home?”

  “No.” She slid him a considering glance. “I realize you’ve already done more than enough, but could you manage one more favor?”

  “Sure.”

  Her brows arched. “Not even going to ask what it is first?”

  “Not today.” Not ever, even if he went through the motions. For an incredibly perceptive woman, she had somehow failed to realize that he was incapable of saying no to her. “What do you have in mind?”

  He doubted it included taking her back to the apartment, pulling the curtains, and trying to love her hurt away. After everything she’d been hit with in the past week and a half, how was she even upright, let alone functional?

  “Come riding with me. Horseback,” she clarified when he blinked in confusion. “I need some fresh air to clear my head after today, and the boys need exercise…if I’m going to rope tomorrow night.”

  “Really? That’s…great.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “I doubt it after all this time, but I’ll get back in the groove eventually. So…?”

  She wanted him to ride. With her. Hell. Why didn’t she just ask him to strip naked on Main Street? He’d be less self-conscious. He sighed. “That’d be great.”

  He almost managed to sound like he meant it.

  She ate in the car—careful not to drip ketchup from her loaded burger, he noticed—then left him to wolf down his two double burgers while she caught and brushed the horses. As she tossed blankets onto the back of the sorrel, Wyatt realized the flaw in her plan.

  “You only have one saddle.”

  She swung it onto the horse and reached under his belly for the front cinch. “You can take this guy. I’ll jump on Roy bareback.”

  Literally. As Wyatt tried to get comfortable in the unfamiliar western saddle, she grabbed two handfuls of mane and vaulted onto the buckskin, then settled on his back as if she was kicked back in a rocking chair.

  Gesturing at the trail, she said, “Lead the way.”

  Damn. He’d been
hoping to totter along behind where she couldn’t watch him, and he could enjoy the sight of her flowing so easily with every move of her horse. Unlike him. He sighed and nudged the sorrel forward. The horse stepped out eagerly. Wyatt was intensely aware of Melanie’s gaze on his back as he tried to focus on the rhythm, the press of his thighs and calves against the saddle, keeping the reins snug to maintain that ever-important contact his riding instructor had drilled into his head.

  When the trail crossed the saddle club driveway, she rode up alongside. “Did you ever ride outside the ring? Just meander over the hills or whatever you have out there?”

  “No. My family doesn’t meander. Our riding was all about discipline.”

  “Well, this isn’t.” She poked him lightly in the side. “Make like Gus McCrae and slouch a little. The judges aren’t watching to be sure your horse maintains a perfect topline.”

  “Habit,” he said stiffly. “I was taught to keep my horse between my legs at all times.”

  She laughed. “An excellent strategy. Things tend to go straight to hell when I fail to keep a leg on either side of my horse.”

  Wyatt grinned reluctantly. He was aware that he was overly sensitive about the subject, but all of the things that set him apart, his riding style had always felt like the most emphatically not cowboy.

  “What we need here is to give your brain a logical explanation for why we ride the way we do.” She moved a few steps past, then swung Roy around to face him, making a wide, sweeping gesture. “Picture the Panhandle, and how much ground a horse might have to cover. You want him as relaxed as possible to conserve energy on those dawn-to-dusk days—his and yours. And that is one of Cole’s horses, so I guarantee he can follow a trail or a cow from here to Texas all by himself. Your job is to leave him alone and let him do it.”