The way they’d all been wrong. Too tolerant. Too forgiving. Too…hell. Cole didn’t even know anymore. He could barely remember a time when Hank hadn’t been underfoot. No, his parents hadn’t been the greatest, but he’d had plenty of other perfectly good role models. Dozens of people who’d given him a hand along the way. A sister who’d slay dragons for him. Truth be told, Hank had run out of excuses a long time ago.
But how did you just turn your back on a human being?
Richard Patterson heaved a resigned sigh. “You have to let him go.”
Cole saw agreement in the tight set of Joe’s mouth. Heard it in the grim silence that fell over the group. The dog let out a dejected groan and plopped her chin glumly on her paws.
My thoughts exactly.
“I’ll talk to him,” Joe said.
“No.” Cole said. “My crew. My job.”
Surprised glances ricocheted around the circle. Cole wants to do the talking? His irritation swelled—with them, and with himself. Hank wasn’t the only one who’d been dodging responsibility. It was time for both of them to grow up.
“Are you sure?” Joe said. “He’s practically one of your family.”
“It’s your family, too. This isn’t going to make things easy between Violet and Melanie.” Cole brought the discussion to an end by looking at Tori. “Would you give Tyrell and Mariah a ride to the airport?”
“Sure.”
He met Shawnee’s gaze, not sure what to make of her expression. Was that concern? Or pride? “Can you gather up the crew for a meeting?” he asked her. “I have to talk to Joe.”
“I’m on it.”
Shawnee drained her glass and stood as Tyrell and Mariah came out of her trailer. Tori and Richard also rose. Introductions were made, then the four of them went off to gather luggage and load it in the Charger.
Shawnee poked at her phone. “I’m texting the Leses and Analise, and I’ll go knock on Cruz’s door. I’ll tell them all to come to the office, where we won’t be overheard.”
“Thanks.” Cole wanted to reach for her as she passed. Drag her into his trailer and bury himself in her until everything else went away. Unfortunately, his days of hiding when the going got tough were over. These were his people and, God help them, he was their leader.
But at least Shawnee would be watching his backside.
* * *
Tori caught Shawnee inside her trailer, rinsing sweet tea glasses. She shut the door, then folded her arms and leaned back against it. “You suck.”
Shawnee raised her eyebrows. “Did you fly down here special to let me know?”
“Yes.” Tori tipped the last few drops out of her Dr. Pepper can and tossed it into the trash. “Your dad has been mooching around here for three weeks, you’ve been jumping Cole, your gray horse damn near died, and I have to hear it all from Violet? What kind of friend are you?”
“Lousy. I told you from the start—I don’t do the BFF thing. And my sex life is none of your business.”
“Since when?” Tori’s eyebrows arched, incredulous. “You’re the damn poster child for too much information. And you had your nose stuck in the middle of everything when Delon and I were dating.”
“Somebody had to. The two of you were manufacturing ways to screw it up.”
“And now you owe me. What’s going on between you and Cole?”
Shawnee forced her mouth into the smirk Tori would expect. “I sort of figured after being married twice you’d know about this stuff, but…boys have boy parts, and girls have girl parts, and when you rub them together—” She made an exploding motion with her fingers and a kapow! noise. “Magic!”
Tori gave her a dead-eyed stare. “What I saw when we drove up had nothing to do with sex.”
Right. Tori would have to see that touching little moment. Shawnee yanked open a cupboard door to hide her face and took great care in stowing the glasses so they wouldn’t rattle around on the road. “That was just Cole thinking he needs to play lord and protector.”
Tori straightened, her gaze sharpening. “Did Ace say something to you?”
Only that I’m a walking wrecking ball. Which we all knew. Shawnee wrung the dishcloth tight between her hands. “He was his usual asshole self. I was an asshole back. Turns out he’s better at it than I am. Cole thought”—and rightly so—“that I was upset, so he gave me a hug.”
“Cole…gave you…a hug.” Tori spoke in segments, like she had to process it bit by bit.
Shawnee hitched a shoulder. “He’s the affectionate type.”
“Cole,” Tori repeated. “The guy didn’t speak directly to me until three months after we met.”
“Must not’ve had anything to say.”
Tori angled around to look into Shawnee’s face. “You’re messing with me, right?”
“What do you think?” Shawnee asked, batting her eyes.
Tori growled, spun away, and flung herself on the couch. “You are such a pain in the ass.”
“And this is why we don’t have sleepovers and play Magic 8 Ball. How’s your daddy getting along with his new horse?”
Tori glared at her for a beat, then gave up with an irritated huff. “Great. We went to the club roping in Canyon last week and he caught five out of six steers.”
“Awesome. He must’ve been pumped.”
Tori smiled. “Yeah. It was pretty cool.”
Upon exiting the U.S. Senate, Tori’s father had made learning to rope his first objective. After two years, his appearance at ropings in the Panhandle hardly caused a stir anymore, except among single women of a certain age, and most of them were too scared of Tori to do anything about it.
“Lord, I’m tired. Daddy called me right after he got off the phone with you.” Tori let her head fall back against the couch cushions. “Was last night as scary as I’m imagining?”
“You have no idea.” Shawnee still felt a little sick, remembering the screaming. The gun. Cole and Cruz putting themselves in the line of fire. “When your daddy gave me his cell phone number, I figured I’d only need it if I got drunk and disorderly on the wrong side of the border. I couldn’t believe he jumped right in.”
Tori studied her for a moment that stretched long enough to get uncomfortable. “That’s what real friends are, you know. People who want to be there for you in the hard times. And tend to get irritated when you don’t let them.”
Yep, Tori was pissed. And it was only gonna get worse when she found out about New York. Shawnee opened her mouth, but before she could spill the beans, there was a familiar deep thud on the door.
Cole stuck his head in. “Everybody’s over at the office. You ready?”
“Yeah.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and glanced at Tori. “Wanna have lunch after we’re done?”
Tori shook her head. “As long as we dragged the jet out of the hangar, Daddy figured we might as well fly on up to Ellensburg and watch Delon ride in the finals.”
“Why ever wouldn’t you?” Shawnee drawled. “It’s only a couple thousand miles out of the way.”
Tori stood and sauntered to the door, making deliberate eye contact with Shawnee as she passed. “We can finish this conversation when you bring me back my trailer.”
“Yes, princess.” Shawnee sketched a mocking curtsy.
Tori flipped her off. Now that was the kind of girl chat Shawnee appreciated.
Unlike the one they’d be having when she got home.
Chapter 33
Tick, tick, tick, tick…
Even now, his palms damp and his heart pounding as he looked at the expectant faces looking back at him, Cole was intensely aware of every second that they weren’t on the road, putting miles behind them. It was ten hours to the next rodeo in southern Utah. Every minute they delayed was a minute of rest lost for the stock.
But this was more important than his
schedule, dammit.
What remained of Cole’s crew were waiting in the confines of the rodeo offices—the Leses, Analise, and Cruz. Shawnee grabbed the chair closest to the door. Joe took a seat in the corner, leaving Cole alone at the front of the room, the focus of all those eyes. Waiting for him to say something. The sweat beaded along his hairline and in his armpits. He could feel his face stiffening to the point of cracking, like Play-Doh left out in the hot sun.
He met Shawnee’s gaze. She lifted her pointy eyebrows as if to say, Well? But then she smiled, just a little, and nodded. You can do this.
He drew in a huge breath. The first words gushed out with it. “Mariah and her father have decided not to press charges. However…” Cole had to stop and take another breath. “A law was broken. Analise, Cruz, Shawnee…you were all witnesses. I won’t ask any of you to commit a crime of omission by keeping quiet if your conscience tells you otherwise.”
Chairs squeaked and feet shuffled as glances were exchanged.
“What does the senator say?” one of the Leses asked.
Cole searched through the phrases he’d memorized, trying to anticipate every question or concern. “He is comfortable with their choice.”
Another lengthy silence. Then Analise. “Is Tyrell gone for good?”
“No. He’ll meet us in Utah.”
More silence. More shuffling. Then Cruz piped up. “What happens when Hank’s ready to come back?”
Cole drew another deep breath, forcing himself to look from face to face, meeting every eye in the room. “Hank won’t be coming back to work for Jacobs Livestock.”
What air was left in the room disappeared in one giant inhalation. Cole braced himself for the outrage. Instead, there were only quiet sighs, slow nods, resigned shakes of the head. And, if he wasn’t completely off base, a whisper of relief. Cole had offered up a punishment severe enough to soothe a guilty conscience, without ruining Hank’s life.
Something like grief tore through Cole’s chest. These people had considered Hank one of their own, jumped to his rescue despite his flaws. And now…even if they forgave him, none of them would ever quite feel the same about him.
And Hank would never understand how much he’d lost.
“So that’s it?” Cruz asked, his near-black eyes impenetrable. “Tyrell stays. Hank goes.”
“Yeah.”
Cruz considered for a beat. “Okay,” he said.
No one said another word, but the pact they had made might as well have been carved in stone. We don’t speak of this again.
As they rose and scuffed out the door, Cole propped his elbows on the table, laced his fingers tight together, and stared at the creases in his knuckles. He heard Joe get up and leave and thought he was alone. Then a chair scraped on the dusty wood floor. Shawnee walked over, pulled another chair close to his, and wrapped her arms around him, ignoring Katie’s low growl. They sat that way for a long time, the woman pressed against his shoulder, the dog against his leg. Again something tore inside Cole’s chest, but this time it felt like a good kind of pain. Scar tissue ripping away, giving the soft, tender parts of his heart room to expand.
Shawnee kissed his temple, then stood. “I owed you one.”
* * *
Three hours later, Melanie Brookman’s white SUV whipped into the rodeo grounds and parked behind Cole’s trailer. There was no mistaking the family resemblance. She had the same brown hair, worn long and straight, and the same lean, athletic body, which had made her the defensive player of the year in their high school basketball conference.
But unlike Hank, her brown eyes were sharp, her posture radiating don’t even try to mess with me. A dozen years in the business world had carved away any softness from back when she and Violet had raised their fair share of hell. She didn’t waste a meaningless smile on Cole or Joe when she climbed out of the car.
“I’m taking him home until he’s fit to work again,” she said abruptly.
Hank slouched out of the car, jerked a nod of greeting toward Joe, and mumbled something to his sister. Melanie shot him a quelling glare.
“Come on inside,” Cole said, and led the way to the office.
He dragged over chairs for Melanie and Hank, then took a seat with Joe on the opposite side of the single long table. Melanie eyed them, head up, nostrils flared, like a horse that scented a threat. Hank slumped in his chair and stared at his knees.
There was no sense beating around the bush. “Hank won’t be coming back.”
“You’re firing him?” Melanie came almost out of her chair. “He has a contract!”
“Which has a moral turpitude clause,” Cole said. “You should know. You helped Violet write it.”
“He hasn’t been convicted of a crime,” Melanie shot back. “You have no legal grounds for his dismissal.”
Cole steeled himself against her fury. And worse, the bewildered hurt in Hank’s eyes. “So sue us for breach of contract.”
Melanie opened her mouth. Then she clamped it shut with an audible click of her teeth. Any such suit would require describing the circumstances under which Hank was let go.
“Tha’s bullshit,” Hank slurred, his confusion morphing into anger, with an edge of panic. “I been with you since I was a kid…”
And you still act like one. Cole shook his head, chest aching. “I don’t want to do this, Hank, but you didn’t leave me any choice.”
“I’ll call Steve—”
“We all agree,” Joe broke in. “We warned you at Fort Worth. No more second chances.”
Hank stared at him for a long moment. Then he stood and very deliberately kicked his chair over with a resounding crash. “Go to hell. I don’ need any of you. I can make it jus’ fine on my own.”
Katie bolted to her feet and growled, low and menacing, as he stalked out the door. Cole put a hand on her head and pushed an envelope across the table. “Mariah left this for Hank. That’s the last he’ll hear from her. If he tries to contact her in any way, or so much as mentions her name online or to his friends, Tyrell will reconsider pressing charges.”
Melanie snatched up the letter and stared down at it, her fingers flexing as if she wanted to rip it to shreds. When she spoke, her voice was low, her temper tightly reined. “You’ve made your point. He gets it now. Give him a few weeks to stew, then talk to him about next season. I promise…”
“We can’t, Mel. Not after this. I’m sorry.”
She sat, head bowed, for a long moment. Then she pushed out of the chair and turned to leave without a word.
“I hope he’s right,” Cole blurted.
She paused to glance at him, questioning.
“I hope he goes out and proves to everyone just how good he can be,” Cole said.
Her lips pressed together and her eyes shimmered. She jerked a quick nod, then turned and strode out the door.
Cole dropped his face into his hands, feeling as if he was going to be sick.
“That was impressive,” Joe said.
Cole made a rude noise. “Me and my great people skills.”
“Three years ago you would’ve hightailed it for the border if anyone suggested you should get up in front of the crew and talk.”
“I sounded like an asshole.”
Joe gave an impatient huff. “You left out all the bullshit. That’s what they expect from you. It’s what they needed. And they were ready to follow wherever you led. Like I said, impressive.”
Cole leaned back in his chair and considered Joe. He’d changed too. He was…not softer, but less edgy. Less cocky, more confident. Year by year, more of Steve Jacobs’s dignity seemed to rub off on him.
With any luck, Cole had absorbed a little too. He could always hope.
Joe blew out a gusty breath. “Holy hell, I need a beer.”
“Follow me.”
* * *
&nb
sp; Shawnee was dozing on the couch when Melanie slammed into the trailer, scaring the bejeezus out of her.
Melanie punched the closet hard enough that Shawnee feared for her hand. “They fired him!”
“Yep.”
Melanie turned on her, snarling. “You knew?”
“Yep. And for the record, I agree completely.”
“Three days ago he saved your ass!”
Shawnee pushed up on her elbows, still groggy. “And last night I kept him from being hauled away in handcuffs. I’d say we’re even.”
“He did not assault that girl.”
Shawnee swung her feet to the floor and scrubbed both hands through her hair. “She’s sixteen, Melanie.”
“Almost seventeen.” Melanie folded her arms, hip and chin jutting. “And she was all for it. What was he supposed to do?”
“Say no.”
“Oh, right.” Melanie snorted in derision. “How many guys are gonna turn down a girl who looks like that?”
“The ones with a brain?” Shawnee stood up, planted both hands on Melanie’s shoulders, and gave her a shake. “He was one wrong word away from prison, Mel. One word.”
The anger leached out of Melanie’s face, along with some of the color. She knocked away Shawnee’s hands. “I can’t even think about it.”
“Well, Hank had better, or eventually he’s going to screw something up beyond repair.”
Temper sparked in Melanie’s eyes again. “You mean like Wyatt blackballing him?”
“He won’t—”
“Bullshit. Hank told me about Fort Worth. One more screw-up, Wyatt said. We both know he’ll do it if he decides it’s for the greater good, the self-righteous bastard.” Melanie’s lip curled, her eyes going dark with loathing. “You watch. Even if Hank doesn’t set so much as a toe out of line from here on out, every time he tries to take a step up, he’ll get kicked back down again. Wyatt will make sure of it.”
Shawnee wanted to argue. Tell Melanie the truth about what Joe had confessed. But it wasn’t her place to shift the blame to Joe, and she sure as hell didn’t want to be the one who blew up a friendship between Violet and Melanie that had lasted over three decades.
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