“Hi, Clay, did I catch you at a bad time?”
Clay noted the weariness in her voice. “Just got done playing a game with the boys. They’re getting too damn good, you know. Probably ought to watch who they play with online.”
She chuckled, though it wasn’t with her usual heart. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” There was a brief silence. “Actually, it’s about the boys that I called.”
“They giving you a hard time? Really, Jules, if playing games is causing problems with their homework or other friends then—”
“It’s not them, Clay. Or you.”
He released a quiet sigh of relief. It had been when he’d visited over Christmas that he learned of the boy’s interest—as most their age—in gaming. Clay had gotten the latest system shortly after he moved into the cabin at the Last Hope ranch. It’d served as an escape at the time, from the realities he’d seen. Every shot he fired on the animated screen was another of the bastards that had killed his friends and left him alone to carry the memory.
“I called because the boys have a spring break coming up soon, and I thought maybe they could come visit you, if you didn’t mind,” Julie asked.
“I’d love that, Jules. You know, there are more than enough empty cabins here right now. You could all come out. Get Louis on a horse. I’d love to see that.” Clay grinned, but his gut told him something wasn’t right.
“Yeah, well. You know Louis. He wouldn’t dare want to scuff up his Gucci’s.”
Clay smiled, choosing not to respond with what he thought about his brother-in-law’s lack of interest in anything but himself. “When is break?” he asked.
She sighed. It was uncharacteristic of her. She’d always been a take-charge kind of woman. A really good mom, as it turned out. Once Clay was able to see past his own issues. “Jules, what’s going on? That’s like the third time you’ve sighed since we’ve been talking. Are you feeling okay?” He sat upright, leaning his elbows on his knees as he listened.
Her heard her swallow. “I’m fine. Things are…fine. I just think Louis and I could use some time alone. Maybe go somewhere—the beach. He used to love the beach,” she said as though an afterthought.
Clay had noticed her husband’s absence even over the holiday season. He’d hoped that it had been end-of-the-year deadlines. He was beginning to sense there was more to this story. “Well, listen, if the boys want to come out, I’d love to have them here. They can stay here in the cabin. It’s got a second room. They can help me out around the ranch. Maybe learn to ride.”
“That sounds amazing, Clay, thank you.”
“You’re welcome to visit, too, Jules, anytime,” Clay added. “I have a feeling you’d love this place. Kind of reminds me of Texas. End of the Line, the little town up the road from here, is pretty low-key, much the same as Piedmont was. You remember?”
He could hear the smile in her voice. “Riding our bikes down to the creek on a summer day. Gosh, spending the whole day just roaming around the countryside. Mr. Neely at the gas station used to give us a bottle of cola for a nickel.” She sighed. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Here we’ve got Betty at the Sunrise Café. The woman makes a homemade cinnamon roll the size of a dinner plate, I swear to you.”
“The boys won’t want to come home,” she said quietly.
Clay waited for her to explain the odd tone in her voice. Instead, she moved on, her voice brightening a little.
“I’ll call you when I have their plane reservations. You can pick them up in Billings?”
“Not a problem.”
“Great, thank you, little brother. I appreciate this.”
“Happy to have them. Just pack plenty of jeans and sweatshirts—toss in their hats and gloves. Do they own a winter coat?” he asked.
“Yes, they have a winter coat. They’ve been on a ski trip with their soccer club before.”
Clay raised a brow. His nephews led far different lives than when he was a kid. “Good deal. Call me when you have things ready.”
“Thanks, Clay, I’ll tell the boys in the morning. They’re going to be crazy happy.”
That made him smile. It’d been a long time since his presence in anybody’s life had made them ‘crazy happy.’ “Hey, Jules?” he said.
“Yeah?”
“Are you crazy happy?” He waited, the silence confirming his suspicions that not was right in her world.
“I’ll call you in a couple of weeks with their flight information,” she said, side-stepping his question by pulling the big sister bossy shit. “Meantime, see if you can get a life outside of playing games online with your nephews.”
Clay thought about his unorthodox agreement to help Sally Andersen. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.” After hanging up, he sat for a moment and realized how far he’d come from the brooding hermit he’d been. His stud-muffin bubble suddenly burst in his brain. How the hell was he going to manage his nephews visiting over spring break, being a part-time short order cook, and a woman who wanted him on-demand?
***
He’d polished his dress shoes, brushed his teeth twice, and smelled like a damn magazine insert for men’s cologne. He stood at the entrance of the End of the Line high school gym feeling as though it was his first prom. Glad to finally see a familiar face coming toward him, he reached out and accepted Miss Ellie’s outstretched hand.
“If I wasn’t the host, young man, I’d bid on you myself.” She slid her arm through his. “Come on, I’ll show you to your table.” She tugged him into the gymnasium.
“It looks like spring threw up in here,” he commented, taking in the brightly colored décor. He’d never seen so many glittering gowns and Stetsons in one place. Two drop-down screens looped a slideshow of an historical montage of End of the Line—then and now—followed by headshots of each of tonight’s bachelors participating in the auction.
“We’ve tried to seat you gentlemen throughout the room so you can mingle with the guests.” She patted her hand on the back of a chair. The table was empty. “You’re early. You’ll be seated with your friend Hank. And if my memory serves, I believe, Rein and Liberty are also at this table.”
“Hank, now there’s a guy who should have been in this auction,” Clay said with a smile. Despite his bitch of a sister, Caroline, Hank was one of his best friends. They’d lost contact after college, right after Clay joined the Army. Not everyone in his family agreed with his choice, with the exception of his grandfather back in Texas. He was a decorated WWII vet and he had no hesitancy showing his pride in Clay’s enlistment. They’d written back and forth during boot camp and again when he went overseas, but his grandfather hadn’t lived to see him return home. Clay had often wondered what his life might have been like had he chosen to go pro in football instead. And it always came back to the tattoo on his bicep that he’d gotten while on a leave with his buddies from camp. It’d been his grandpa’s favorite saying. These colors don’t run.
“Wow. Damn, son, you clean up fairly well.”
Clay pulled from his reverie and looked across the table at Hank walking towards him. He stood and grabbed Hank’s hand with a grin, then dispensing with protocol, pulled him into a bear hug. “You’re as ugly as ever,” Clay joked, eyeing his friend dressed in dark blue jeans, a pressed white shirt and black bolero tie. He wore a giant silver buckle on his belt, boots, and a black Stetson.
“Where the heck did you get that?” Clay pointed to the buckle.
“Montana Jewelry down in Billings. Figured I better blend in.” He grinned a million-watt smile.
“It ought to be you up there, instead of me. I can see if I can arrange it,” Clay offered.
Hank stopped the idea with upturned hands. “No, thank you, just the same. But I will enjoy watching you get up there.” He looked around. “So where does a guy get libations around here? That was not a fun flight heading over those mountains. Radar didn’t show anything, but I swear those winds seem like they’re blowing something in.”
; Dalton walked up, a rolling cooler in tow. “Anyone here thirsty?”
Hank laughed. “Did you think this was a tailgate, bro?”
Dalton straightened his shoulders. More amazing to Clay was the Stetson Dalton wore. Angelique must have put the kibosh on his beloved Cubs baseball hat this evening. “It just so happens that I’m making a delivery to the bar. I’m supplying a few cases of my special craft beer for the occasion. I figure just because I cut out drinking doesn’t mean other folks have to.” He pulled out two bottles, handing one to Hank and another to Clay. “What’d you think of that first batch I sent over for you to sample?” Dalton asked him.
Clay took the frosty bottle and the opener Dalton offered next.
Dalton grinned. “What do you think of that?”
Clay studied the logo on the opener. “Kinnison Legacy?”
Dalton shrugged. “It fits.”
He shrugged. “Good a name as any, I guess.”
“You see the horse head? Pretty cool, right?” Dalton grinned.
There were few times Clay had seen Dalton damn near giddy about anything. The times he’d talk about the new baby on the way and building a tree house with Emilee in the backyard were just two that came to mind. This craft beer was the third.
Clay took a long pull on the bottle and licked his lips. “Yeah, I think you might be on to something here.”
“Listen, I’m thinking if I can convince Dusty to go into partnership, that we could get this thing rolling right here in End of the Line. Maybe sell growlers. That’s the big thing right now.”
“The big thing for you right now is to get your Kinnison Legacy over to the bar.”
Angelique walked up and tapped her husband’s shoulder. Dressed in a long ivory gown, accented by authentic turquoise jewelry, she wore her long, dark hair loose and was the image of a beautiful statuesque mother-to-be. “Hi Clay, Hank, sorry to break up this boy’s club, but my husband doesn’t seem to know when to stop once he gets going on something.” She smiled at him and he leaned in to kiss her.
“And you love that about me.” He patted her protruding belly. “See you later.”
Angelique scanned the crowd. “Have either of you seen Rein or Liberty?”
Clay shook his head. He hadn’t spoken to Rein since earlier in the week to arrange his schedule. He’d been going in daily for the breakfast and lunch crowds, the café’s heaviest meal times. Thankfully, she wasn’t taking special occasion or large groups for the next few weeks.
Hank shrugged. “Nope, I’d think they’d be here shortly.”
Clay nodded toward Wyatt and Aimee who’d just arrived. “Maybe Wyatt’s heard something?”
The well-dressed pair joined them. Somber faces accompanied their attire.
“What is it?” Angelique grabbed Aimee’s hand.
“Rein and Liberty can’t make it. Liberty had another dizzy spell. Doc suggested that she may be dehydrated and she should get off her feet and get some fluids down her. He wants to see how she’s doing in an hour or so.”
Dalton appeared again without the cooler. He handed his older brother a beer. “Check out the new stock from the Kinnison Legacy. Sounds impressive, doesn’t it? Hey, where’s Rein and Liberty?”
Wyatt studied the bottle with a frown. “He and Liberty are staying in. She wasn’t feeling well.”
Dalton draped an arm around his wife’s shoulder. “You think one of us should head up there and see if they need anything?”
“I suggested that when I spoke with him. He’d rather we stayed here and support Miss Ellie and Sally,” Wyatt replied. “They’ve talked to Doc. If he needs us, he’ll call.” Wyatt held up the bottle. “Anyone got an opener?”
Both Clay and Hank handed him their branded Kinnison Legacy bottle openers.
Wyatt glanced at Dalton. “Bottle Openers? Next thing you’ll want Dusty to sell Growlers.”
“Exactly,” Dalton said with a grin. “I’m seeing t-shirts, baseball caps, sweatshirts—”
“Whoa, there cowboy.” Wyatt eyed Dalton. “How does this batch taste, because that stuff you sent over last week… ” Wyatt made a face. “Not so great.”
“Try it.” Dalton urged, watching his brother carefully.
Wyatt took a swallow, considered the bottle, and nodded his approval.
“I wanted to sit down and go over some options, crunch some numbers,” Dalton said.
Wyatt took another drink. “Yeah, little brother, this is good. Rein is our numbers guy. We’ll talk about it at Sunday dinner.”
Clay finished his beer and noticed Sally standing across the room speaking to Tyler. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I need to talk to.” He started across the room, pushing past the awkward click of his leg. With all the noise, he felt sure he was the only one that heard it, but it bothered him just the same. Before he could reach her, Sally had followed Ellie backstage and Tyler turned, walking toward him.
“Hey, look at you.” Tyler slapped him on the arm, then held out his arms. “How do I look?” he asked.
“Looking good, Tyler,” Clay responded, frustrated that he’d missed talking to Sally.
“Sally just told me that had record numbers of single women for the auction this year. I’m kind of hoping that Kaylee bids on me, though. I’ve been finding every reason on earth to stop by the clinic.” He smiled. “I think she seems interested. Guess we’ll see.”
If Kaylee went for the shaggy, red-bearded, blue-eyed, Ed Sheeran look-a-like type, then Tyler had it going.
“It’s all for Miss Ellie and the shelter, right?” Tyler said. “I could use a drink, though.”
“Right, for the shelter.” And what was to become of the lusty fantasies he’d been having about Sally all week. Clay felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down to see a set of bright blue eyes housed in a petite frame. The glasses the woman wore gave the illusion of her eyes being twice their size. She wore a powder blue gown and a lavender sweater, and if he wasn’t mistaken, those were white Crocs under that gown.
“Yes, may I help you? Do you need an escort back to your seat?” He took the elderly woman’s hand and patted it.
She squinted at him, her gaze taking him in from head-to-toe, lingering at times to the point of uncomfortable. She did a once-over glance at Tyler in his tuxedo.
“Just checking out the goods. I’ve saved all year for this. Aim to get my money’s worth.” She looked back at Clay, pointing a well-manicured albeit crooked finger, at him. “And I know where I’m seated young man, I may be old, but I’m not senile…not yet, anyway.”
Clay watched in shock as the woman started to walk away, her pace slow and calculated. She pivoted suddenly on those sensible shoes. “And don’t think I haven’t got a couple of moves left in me, young man. Just been waitin’ for the right one to come along.”
From behind, he heard Tyler chuckling. He glanced back and found him looking at the floor, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold in his laughter.
The spry, barely five-foot senior citizen, toddled away.
“I think she’s gunning for you, Saunders.” Tyler grinned. “See you backstage after dinner.”
Clay stood a moment more scanning the room, hoping to spot Sally to no avail. “All for Miss Ellie,” he muttered. He walked back through the now-crowded tables, artfully dodging a few jaunty finger waves by women who caught his eye.
He sat down next to Hank, nodding with a smile as his friend introduced him to the guests seated at the table. Two seats—Rein’s and Liberty’s—remained empty.
“How are your nephews doing?” Hank asked a few moments later as they enjoyed their steak dinner.
Clay accepted another Kinnison legacy beer from the waiter. “Things have been better since I was out there over the holiday. Here, I’ve got some pictures.” He pulled out his cell phone to show him some of the candids they’d taken at Christmas. Julie’s husband had been absent in all but one, that was Christmas morning. He handed the phone to Hank. “My nephews are almost ta
ller than their mom. I’ve been playing games online with them since I came back. So things are good there. Who knew that a game system would bring me closer to my nephews, right?”
Hank nodded as he studied the pictures. “Your sister is still a knock-out.” Hank glanced at Clay. “I mean that in a good way, not like a creeper way.” He looked back at the picture. “I remember going out there in our freshman year, just after your mom moved out there, I think. Julie was engaged and I remember thinking, wow, that guy is one lucky SOB.” He looked up at Clay and frowned. “What was his name?”
“Louis,” Clay said.
“Oh, right, does he go by Louie, or Louis?”
“Definitely Louis.”
He handed the phone back. “I’m glad that things have worked out. Good lookin’ family they have there.”
“The guys are coming out to stay with me over spring break.”
Hank smiled. “Staying with Uncle Clay.” He dug into his dinner.
Clay flipped through the photos, remembering Julie’s voice over the phone. Why hadn’t he noticed the dark circles under her eyes in these pictures before now?
“So, you mentioned something about it being a record crowd of single women tonight?” Hank had the whole billionaire cowboy thing going on and Clay suspected that if he chose to, his friend could have his pick of several ladies in the crowd. “You have your sights on anyone in particular?”
Clay glanced toward the stage and saw Sally talking to Dusty. He was helping emcee the event with Miss Ellie. They seemed to be going through a script of sorts and Sally appeared to be patiently walking through the steps of his responsibilities. He doubted she’d had a bite to eat.
No Strings Attached (Last Hope Ranch Book 1) Page 11