“Please,” Cassie whispered to him. Or at least that’s what Lucky thought she said at first. But when she repeated it, he realized she had said, “Breathe.”
Oh, man. Cassie looked ready to bolt so maybe her talking to Bernie was a good idea after all. While the two of them were doing that, maybe he’d try to have the kids wait with Wilhelmina so he could join the grown-ups.
Cassie and Bernie went to his office. Cassie shut the door, all the while repeating “Breathe.” Lucky went in the direction of the reception area.
Where there was no Wilhelmina.
Just a pair of suitcases sitting on the floor next to her empty desk. But there was a little sign that said I’ll Be Back. The clock on the sign was set for a half hour from now. It might as well have been the next millennium.
Mia was holding on to the gum and pig as if they were some kind of lifelines, all the while volleying glances between her sister and him. Since it was possible there’d be some yelling going on in Bernie’s office, Lucky motioned for the girls to sit in the reception area.
He sat.
They didn’t.
And the moments crawled by. The silence went way past the uncomfortable stage.
Lucky didn’t have any idea what to say to them. The only experience he’d had with kids was his soon-to-be nephew, Ethan. He was two and a half, and Lucky’s brother Riley was engaged to Ethan’s mom, Claire. Too bad Ethan wasn’t around now to break the iceberg.
“So, what grade are you in?” he asked, just to be asking something.
Mia held up the four fingers of her left hand—the hand not clutching the gum but rather the one on the pig. Since he doubted she was in the fourth grade, he figured maybe she was communicating her age. So Lucky went with that. He flashed his ten fingers three times and added three more. Of course, she was way too young to get that he was thirty-three, but he thought it might get a smile from her.
It didn’t.
He tried Mackenzie next. “Let me guess your favorite color. Uh, blue?” He smiled to let her know it was a joke. The girl’s black-painted mouth didn’t even quiver.
And the silence rolled on.
Oh, well. At least Bernie had said this so-called custody arrangement would only last a day or two, and they weren’t chatter bugs. Mia’s tears seemed to have temporarily dried up, too. Plus, Cassie was likely jumping through hoops to do whatever it took for them not to have to leave here with these kids. Lucky was all for that, but he wasn’t heartless. He still wanted to leave them in a safe place. Preferably a safe place that didn’t involve him.
What the heck had Dixie Mae been thinking?
“Bull,” someone said, and for one spooky moment, Lucky thought it was Dixie Mae whispering from beyond the grave.
But it was Mia.
Those little blue eyes had landed on his belt buckle, and there was indeed a bull and bull rider embossed into the shiny silver. Lucky had lots of buckles—easy for that to happen when you rode as long as he’d been riding—but he had two criteria for the ones he wore. Big and shiny. This was the biggest and shiniest of the bunch.
“Yep, it’s a bull,” Lucky verified.
Mia didn’t come closer, but she did lean out from sour-faced Big Sis for a better look.
“I ride bulls just like that one.” He tapped the buckle, and hoped that wasn’t too abstract for a four-year-old. Of course, she had clearly recognized it as a bull, so maybe she got it.
And the silence returned.
“So, what was it like staying with Scooter?” he asked.
That got a reaction from Mackenzie. She huffed. Not exactly a sudden bout of chatter, but Lucky understood her completely. What he didn’t understand was why Dixie Mae had left them with Scooter in the first place. But then, there were a lot of things he didn’t understand about Dixie Mae right now.
“How about you?” he asked Mia. “Did you like staying with Scooter?”
She pinched her nose, effectively communicating that Scooter often smelled. Often kept on her clown makeup even when she wasn’t working. The only thing marginally good he could say about the woman was that her visible tattoos weren’t misspelled.
“Do we gotta go back with Scooter?” Mia asked.
Lucky wasn’t sure who was more surprised by the outburst of actual words—Mackenzie or him. It took him a second to get past the shock of the sound of Mia’s voice and respond.
“Do you want to go back with her?” he asked.
“No.” Mackenzie that time. Mia mumbled her own “No.” Judging from the really fast response from both girls, and that it was the only syllable he’d gotten from Mackenzie, he’d hit a nerve.
A nerve that affected his next question. “So, where do you want to go?”
Now, this would have been the time for both girls to start firing off answers. With friends, relatives, rock stars. To a goth store, et cetera. He got a shrug from Mia and a glare from Mackenzie.
What had he expected? Bernie had already told him their parents were out of the picture. Orphans. Something that Lucky more than understood, but he’d been nineteen when his folks died. Barely an adult, but that had barely prevented him from having to stay with a clown.
Though there were a couple of times when Lucky had called Logan just that.
More silence. If this went on, he might just take a nap. Lucky went with a different approach, though. “Is there a question you want to ask me?”
Mia looked up at her sister, and even though Mackenzie’s mouth barely moved, Lucky thought he saw the hint of a smile. The kind of smile that had some stink eye on it.
“Have you ever been arrested?” Mackenzie asked. Yeah, definitely some stink eye. “Because Scooter said you had been.”
“I have,” he admitted. “Nothing major, though, and I never spent more than a few hours in jail.”
Except that one time when there’d been a female deputy who’d come on to him. But that time he’d stayed longer by choice. Best not to mention that, though. In fact, there was a lot about his life he wouldn’t mention.
“What’d you get ’rrested for?” Mia asked.
Lucky smiled, not just at the pronunciation but the cute voice. Cute kid, too.
“Drinking beer.” Like Bernie had earlier, Lucky chose his words wisely. At any rate, beer or some other alcohol had usually been at the root of his bad behavior.
Mackenzie made a hmmp sound as if she didn’t believe him. Lucky didn’t elaborate even though there was no telling what Scooter had told them.
“Don’t drink beer,” Mia advised him in a serious tone that made him have to fight back another smile.
The little girl came closer, leaving her sister’s side and not even looking up for permission. She climbed into the seat next to him, tore the gum stick in half and gave him the bigger of the two pieces.
“Thanks,” Lucky managed to say.
Mia then offered half of her half to her sister, but Mackenzie only shook her head, grunted and deepened her scowl. Much more of that and she was going to get a face cramp.
“Is Lucky even your real name?” Mackenzie again. “Because if it is, it’s a stupid name.”
Such a cheery girl. “It’s a nickname. My real name’s Austin, but nobody ever calls me that.”
Heck, most people didn’t even know it.
“My grandpa McCord gave me the name when I was just three years old,” he explained. “I somehow managed to get into the corral with a mean bull. And despite the fact I was waving a red shirt at him so I could play matador, I came out without a scratch.”
Lucky, indeed. His grandpa could have just called him stupid considering the idiotic thing he’d done.
“What about the lady doctor?” Mackenzie asked, clearly not impressed with his story. She folded her arms over her chest. “Has she been arrested, t
oo?”
“Can’t say,” Lucky answered honestly. “But I doubt it.” Though something was going on with Cassie. Those breathe mumblings weren’t a good sign.
“Is she gay?” Mackenzie continued.
“No,” he said, way too loud and way too fast. He paused. “Why do you ask?”
“Her shoes and clothes,” Mackenzie quickly supplied.
Lucky groaned. “It’s never a good idea to stereotype people.” That was the second time today he’d given such a warning, though Mackenzie probably didn’t have a clue what that word meant. She didn’t seem the sort to work on building her vocabulary.
He cursed himself. Huffed. He needed to take his own advice. Yeah, stereotypes weren’t a good idea.
“Are you two together, then?” Mackenzie asked. “The lady doctor and you?” she clarified, though her question needed no such clarification.
Lucky almost preferred the silence to this. “No. I was business partners with Cassie’s grandmother, Dixie Mae, and Cassie and I went to high school together.”
“I know who her grandmother is,” Mackenzie snapped. “Was,” she added, also in a snap. She didn’t offer more on the subject of Dixie Mae, but since Mackenzie didn’t complain about her, maybe that meant she’d gotten along with the woman.
That would be a first, but hey, miracles happened. Lucky had found a way to love the woman so maybe Mackenzie and Mia had, too. Or rather just Mia, he amended when Mackenzie’s scowl deepened.
“I just thought you and the lady doctor were...” Mackenzie said, but she waved it off. “It was just something Dixie Mae said.”
That got his attention. “What’d she say? Specifically what’d she say about Cassie and me? Because if this is Dixie Mae’s way of matchmaking from the grave—”
He stopped. Wished he hadn’t said it because of the look it put on Mia’s face. Little name, little girl. Whopping big ears. She’d already been shuffled around too much, and she didn’t need to hear that she might go through another shuffling all because Dixie Mae wanted her granddaughter and her “boy” to end up together.
Something that wouldn’t happen.
Cassie had already made that plenty clear.
“We need to get one thing straight,” Mackenzie continued a couple of seconds later. “If you hurt my sister, I’ll punch you and the lady doctor right in your faces.”
“Kenzie doesn’t mean it,” Mia whispered behind her hand. She unwrapped her piece of gum, tore it in half again. One piece she put in her mouth. The other, in her pocket.
“I do mean it,” Mackenzie insisted. “Nobody hurts my sister. Nobody.”
“I understand. I’ve got a kid sister of my own. Her name is Anna.” Because he thought it might give them some common ground, he started to tell her about Anna, that she was a college student in Florida, that he’d walk through fire for her. But Lucky stopped.
And he silently said another hell.
Had someone hurt Mia before? Was that why Mackenzie had doled out that threat? And for the record, he did think she meant it.
Mackenzie clammed up again, and even though he looked at Mia to see how she was dealing with all of this, she was swinging her legs, humming to herself and rolling the silver foil from her gum into a little ball. Lucky would have pressed Mackenzie for more info, or rather any info, but he heard the footsteps coming up the hall.
Finally.
He stood, moving in front of the girls in case Cassie and Bernie had to tell him something that wasn’t meant for those big ears. But selective muteness must have been catching because Bernie sure wasn’t talking, and Cassie dodged his gaze.
“Well?” Lucky finally prompted in a whisper. Probably not a soft enough one because Mackenzie and Mia weren’t doing any gaze-dodging at all. They had their baby blues pinned to him.
“We reached a solution,” Cassie said.
“Good?” And, yes, it was a question. One they didn’t answer. “All right, where are they going?”
Bernie and Cassie exchanged uneasy glances. “Home,” Bernie answered, looking right at Lucky. “With you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“HOME, WITH ME?” Lucky said.
All in all, Lucky took the news about as well as Cassie had expected. He added, “No.” And he kept on adding to that no. “It’s crazy there now what with Riley and Claire’s wedding coming up. They’re getting married in the house.”
She knew Riley and Claire, of course. Had even heard about Riley leaving the Air Force and getting engaged to Claire. But Cassie hadn’t known about the wedding planning. Still, their options were limited here.
“It’ll only be for a day or two,” Cassie reminded him. She also tried to keep her voice at a whisper, but there wasn’t much distance between them and the kids. It didn’t help that Mackenzie was glaring at her.
“You don’t know that,” Lucky argued. “He doesn’t know that.” He flung an accusing finger at Bernie. “I’ll get us all rooms in the Bluebonnet Inn—”
“I’ve already tried,” Cassie explained, “and they’re all booked for the high school reunion, class of 1948.” Some might cancel because they weren’t spring chickens and might not be able to make it, but Cassie couldn’t count on that.
“We can all go to Dixie Mae’s house in San Antonio, then,” Lucky suggested.
Cassie really hated to be the bearer of more bad news. “She’s already sold it. The new owners apparently closed on it earlier today.”
“When did Dixie Mae arrange that?” he snapped.
Cassie had to shrug. Apparently, her grandmother had been up to a lot of things that Cassie and Lucky hadn’t known about, but from what she could gather, these buyers had agreed to purchase the place months ago and had already done all the paperwork in advance.
Lucky stayed quiet a moment, but the quietness didn’t extend to his eyes. There was a lot going on in his head right now, including perhaps a big dose of panic. “Another hotel, then. Or are you going to tell me every hotel in the state is booked?”
“Told you they wouldn’t want us,” Mackenzie mumbled.
Good grief. This was exactly what Cassie was trying to avoid so she took hold of Lucky’s arm to pull him down the hall. “Watch the girls,” she told Bernie.
Lucky didn’t exactly cooperate with the moving-away-from-them part. “That’s not true,” he told Mackenzie, surprising Cassie, Mackenzie, maybe even himself. “This isn’t about wanting or not wanting you. It’s about, well, some other stuff that has nothing to do with you and Mia.”
Cassie tugged his arm again, and this time she managed to move him up the hall and hopefully out of earshot. “All right, what’s the real problem here?” Cassie demanded. “I mean, other than you don’t want to be home, and this would require you to be. Is it because I’d be there, too?”
He looked at her as if she’d just spontaneously sprouted a full beard on the spot. “What?”
Since that question could cover a multitude of things, Cassie went with the one most obvious to her. “I’ve resisted your advances for years, and you hate me. Now you don’t want me anywhere around you.”
More of the sprouted-full-beard look. “I don’t hate you, and you might not have noticed, but I quit advancing on you a long time ago.”
Ouch. Well, that stung, a lot more than it should have. And it was stupid to feel even marginally disappointed. But there had been something about Lucky’s attention that had made her feel attractive, especially in those days when no other guy was looking her way.
“I don’t hate those kids, either,” Lucky went on. “In fact, the little one’s a sweet girl.” He paused, not exactly hemming and hawing, but it was close.
“Is it because there aren’t enough rooms in your house?” Cassie asked. “Because it looks huge to me.”
“It is huge, and ther
e are plenty of rooms. That’s not the point.” But it still took Lucky a while to get to what the point was exactly. “Logan’s at the house,” he finally said. “His loft apartment in town’s being renovated so he’ll be staying there until it’s finished. Heck, he’s probably there right now.”
She waited, hoping for more of an explanation. Cassie had to wait several long moments.
“Logan and I don’t exactly get along,” he admitted.
“Okay. That’s a valid argument. I understand not getting along with relatives.” Mercy, did she. “But there are advantages to being here in Spring Hill, since it’s where Bernie is. We could be right in his face every day to make sure he’s doing everything he can to resolve this.”
Lucky kept staring at her. Then he turned the tables on her. “What’s really going on here with you?”
Perhaps all those years of seducing women and being seduced by them had honed his perception. Or maybe he had ESP. This definitely wasn’t something she wanted the girls to hear so she pulled Lucky back into Bernie’s office.
“Dixie Mae told Bernie that she thought Mackenzie might be suicidal.” Cassie didn’t add more. Didn’t want to add more. She especially didn’t want Lucky or anyone else to see that just saying those words felt as if someone had clamped on to her heart with a meaty fist and wouldn’t let go.
Breathe.
“If she’s suicidal, why isn’t she in a hospital or someplace where she can get help?” he asked.
“Because she doesn’t have an official diagnosis. That was only Dixie Mae’s opinion. I’ve asked Bernie to try to get Mackenzie’s medical records, but that’ll take a while. By then we should have found their next of kin or made other arrangements.” God, she hoped so anyway.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he pressed.
Yes. Something she wouldn’t tell him, either. Cassie somehow had to get past this so she could try to work out things in her head. If that was even possible.
“I just don’t want Mackenzie to slip through the cracks,” Cassie added. That was true, but it had nothing to do with what she was holding back. “No matter how she dresses or how she acts.”
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