Not Just a Cowboy (Texas Rescue)

by Caro Carson

  Luke kept one eye on her as he picked up a rag and started polishing a higher row. “I hope you’ll get some sailing in, when you get back to whatever you’re dreading going back to. I assume ‘dread’ is the right word.”

  “Is it that obvious?” she asked quietly.

  “Can I help?”

  She shook her head slowly. He’d never seen her look so sad. They kept polishing gauges, wiping away every trace of sea salt left by the coastal air.

  “Why don’t you want this mission to end?” he asked, when they came to the end of their rows.

  She folded and refolded the cloth in her hands. “Do you know what the problem is with sailing? The lakes in Texas are huge. I can run full sail for miles, outsmarting the wind, using it for speed. But at the end of the day, I’m still stuck on a lake in the middle of Texas. I haven’t gone anywhere.”

  He took the neat square of cloth out of her hands. “Do you know what the problem is with being a cowboy? On a good horse, you can ride for miles without seeing another soul as far as the eye can see. But at the end of the day, you’re still stuck on a ranch in the middle of Texas.”

  “Come see me tonight.”

  “Leave your hair down.”

  Without looking around to see if anyone was watching, she kissed him on the lips, and then she was gone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Luke heard Zach’s whistle, but he didn’t take his gaze off Patricia’s receding figure.

  “I guess you don’t have to paint my helmet when we get back,” Zach said.

  “I wasn’t painting your helmet because I saved your sorry hide from heat stroke.”

  “That, too. But damn. You got her to kiss you.”

  Patricia disappeared among the tents. Luke chucked the polishing cloth she’d folded into the bin where they kept the rest.

  Zach gave a swipe to an already-shining gauge. “You’re not as happy as I would be about getting kissed by a woman with some sexy friggin’ hair.”

  “She’s from Austin, right? She must be. We’re all part of the Austin branch of Texas Rescue. So answer me this. Why does she act like she’ll never see me again?”

  Zach was silent, which meant he was actually giving it some thought. “I can’t help you there. Be careful these last few days. I wouldn’t want to see it go bad on you.”

  Murphy came around the side of the truck. “Are you guys going to talk all day? You got time to lean, then you got time to clean.”

  Zach deliberately leaned against the engine. “No one says that in real life, Murph.”

  Chief Rouhotas walked up, too. Luke thought they might as well be livestock. A beautiful female had scattered them, and now the men were huddling up, ready to regroup. Luke would’ve found that amusing, if he’d felt better about the whole situation.

  Chief spoke first. “I didn’t expect to see Miss Cargill cleaning a fire engine, I’ll tell you that.”

  Murphy’s laugh sounded suspiciously like a snort of disgust. “I guess it’s fun when it’s not your real job. Right, Luke?”

  Luke was in no mood for surly remarks. He felt too surly himself. “Your panties are in a wad because I’m an unpaid volunteer? Feel free to share your paycheck.”

  “I’m just saying it must be nice to stop and chat when you feel like it. No one can tell you to get to work, since no one is paying you. Miss Cargill shows up and wants to flirt, then you get to stop and flirt.”

  Zach made a great show of banging his forehead on the red metal of the engine. “Murphy, Murphy, Murphy.”

  The chief just shook his head at Murphy. “I’ve got a life lesson for you, son. Be nice to money.”

  “Whose money? Hers, or Luke’s?” Murphy jerked his chin at Luke. “At least you work on your ranch. She just sits around and gets her nails done.”

  The unfairness of his assumption hit Luke in the gut. Sure, Patricia had money. She looked like money, from her yacht-club clothes to the way she carried herself. Murphy had noticed that much, but he didn’t recognize the work Patricia did. That required a correction. Luke was in the mood to give it.

  He stepped forward. “Did you like your warm, dry bed last night? She’s the reason you had a place to sleep. You enjoyed having a hot meal and a shower after that fire, didn’t you? Guess who you have to thank. Before you get pissed off that she’s got diamonds in her ears, you better be thankful she’s got a mind as sharp as a diamond, too. Are we clear on that?”

  “All right, okay, enough.” The chief backed Luke up a step with a hand on his shoulder.

  Zach tried for a joke as he backed Murphy up. “You can’t get mad every time a woman likes Luke better than you. It happens for no good reason, now and then.”

  But Murphy shook Zach off. “Of course she likes him. He owns a goddamn cattle ranch.”

  Luke didn’t like the way this whole morning was going. He tried to follow Zach’s lead and laugh it off. “She must just think I’m pretty. She doesn’t know I own a ranch.”

  “Sure, she doesn’t.”

  Back off. Luke rested his hands on his hips. No fists. No fighting stance. But aggressive enough that thick-headed Murphy ought to get the point. “Unlike some men, I don’t go around bragging to women about the size of my acreage.”

  “You got oil wells on your ranch, don’t you?”

  Obviously, Murphy didn’t know when to stop. Equally obviously, he had a chip on his shoulder when it came to money from some past slight. Luke wasn’t going to knock that chip off since he hadn’t been the one to put it there. He turned away.

  “You think a Cargill doesn’t know about an oil well?” Murphy said to his back. “Hell, they smell it miles underground. Maybe she’s not after your body. Maybe she’s after your land.”

  Luke opened the cab door, prepared to climb up to get the phone he’d left on the seat. Chief’s next words gave him pause.

  “The kind of oil the Cargills go after is too big for them to concern themselves with a few wells on ranches. If you’re going to talk out of your backside, at least know your facts.”

  Luke turned back around. “She’s related to those Cargills?”

  Chief was just getting warmed up as he laid into Murphy. “You like this engine, son? Her father bought it. That’s right. For years, we struggled to find enough in the budget to maintain the old engine. Then one day, out of the blue, Daddy Cargill himself just writes us a check. Six hundred thousand dollars. And while he was at it, threw in a hundred thousand more so we’d have all new equipment on the shiny new truck.”

  “Daddy Cargill?” Luke asked. He’d seen him once in Dallas, showboating at an NFL game. He’d walked down the sideline, a rhinestone cowboy, filling his arms with cheerleaders as the crowd took photos.

  He was nothing like Patricia.

  “This engine was a gift from the oil baron himself. He was wearing a white suit when he came by the station in his Cadillac. Why did he throw nearly a million our way? It’s because his daughter works for Texas Rescue, that’s why. So you’re not going to piss her off, understand me, Murphy? If Miss Cargill likes the fire department, then the fire department gets money. She wants you to put up a tent in hundred degree heat, then you put up a tent, and you smile at her while you do it, understand?”

  “Chief.” Luke spoke his name firmly, but the chief was on a roll.

  “She can come by as often as she wants, and she can touch anything or anyone she wants.”

  “Chief, that’s enough.”

  “If she wants to talk to Luke, hell, if she wants to sleep with Luke, you get them a bed and you plump the goddamned pillows for them.”

  “Chief.” Now it was Luke backing the chief up a step. “That’s out of line.”

  The chief shut his mouth abruptly. He ducked his head. “Sorry. No offense.”

  “For God’s sake, you have a daughter yourself.”

  “You’re right. Forget I said that, Murphy.”

  There was nothing else Luke could do. Nothing to say. He could barely think straight.<
br />
  Patricia was the daughter of Daddy Cargill.

  Luke repeated that to himself a few times, but it didn’t sound real. To hell with waiting until dark. He wanted to talk to Patricia now.

  “I’m going to get coffee.” He slammed the cab door shut as he passed it.

  “Me, too.” Zach ruined his show of solidarity by turning around to holler at the chief. “If any Rockefeller ladies are looking for someone to bat their eyelashes at, let me know. I’m happy to help out the department.”

  * * *

  “Hello, Daddy.”

  There was a long pause. Patricia waited patiently, sitting at her out-of-the-way picnic table, staring at the nearby stucco wall of the hospital that would soon put hers out of business. She’d waited for a break in the construction on its roof to place her call. The smell of hot tar was wafting down, pungent enough to make her consider moving, but while the workers were applying it, the construction noises were minimal.

  She listened to the quieter sounds of fumbling on the other end of the phone line. Rustling sheets made such a distinctive noise. Her father had grown so heavy in the past twenty years, he grunted when he tried to sit higher on his satin pillows. Patricia closed her eyes, but it didn’t help erase the visual image.

  “Hello, sugar. Give me just a moment—don’t go anywhere—”

  There was no caller ID on the phone by his bed. Last time Patricia had been in that house, the phones throughout had been oversize Victorian abominations of gold and ivory. In what Daddy thought was true Texas fashion, the old-fashioned ivory handsets were made from the horns of steer. Patricia never used them. She didn’t have to; she and Daddy had a deal. The tacky palace was his. The lake house was hers.

  “All right, sugar, tell Daddy what you need that couldn’t wait until tonight, but make it quick. I’ve got company, but I just sent her to fetch me a snack.”

  Wait until tonight? Good Lord. Her father thought she was one of his women. He must have already lined up an even newer mistress while he was seeing the new mistress, and the old mistress hadn’t been paid off and put out to pasture yet.

  “Daddy, it’s me. Patricia.”

  The change of tone was immediate, and defensive. “How am I supposed to know it’s you if you call me ‘Daddy’?”

  “I’m your daughter. Who else would I call ‘Daddy’?”

  “You’re not cute. Get down to business, little girl.”

  “You haven’t signed the checks I left. Only Melissa’s.” Melissa was Wife Number Three in Argentina. Patricia had checked her banking app once more and gotten a full screen this time. Only Melissa’s check and the pre-authorized withdrawals like the jewelry store were listed.

  Her father’s chuckle was transparently forced. “That’s the most important one. Keep the women happy, that’s what I always say.”

  “I’m a woman. It would make me happy to be able to pay for maintenance on the lake house. The staff deserve their paychecks on time. One of the boats needs a new furler and they are all due for bottom jobs—”

  “You know I don’t like all those fancy boating terms.”

  “Paint, Daddy. The bottoms of the boats need painted every year. It will cost less than a tennis bracelet, and you give those out like candy.”

  “No one sees the bottom of a boat, sugar. You should spend the money on yourself. Get your own topside spiffed up. That’s the way to get a man.”

  The insult stung like a slap. Patricia was tallish, and slender, but she had breasts. She just wasn’t an inflated stripper. Her father’s view of women was distorted after decades of keeping the company he did. He didn’t know what a good figure was, and that was all there was to it.

  It shouldn’t have mattered. Yet, after shedding tears over Luke’s experience at the car accident last night, her eyes watered now. How rotten, to have remembered how to cry.

  “Your year is almost up.” Daddy’s reminder was malicious.

  Patricia couldn’t stand it a minute longer. “I’m sorry, the connection is really bad here on the coast. You’re breaking up. I’m going to have to go.”

  “The coast? What are you doing there?”

  “The hurricane. There was a hurricane last Sunday, remember? Never mind. Sign the checks. Please.”

  She ended the call. Very carefully, she placed the phone on the picnic table, face down. She’d slept so well last night, feeling good because she’d made Luke feel better after a tough accident scene. It was still morning, but already Patricia felt as tired as she’d ever been in her life. She folded her arms on the table and put her head down.

  I cannot live my life this way. I will do anything. I will marry anyone I have to.

  She felt the bench give next to her.

  She only knew one man who was big enough to rock her like that.

  An arm brushed her arm. A hip pressed against her hip.

  She only knew one man who was confident enough to sit so close to her.

  She picked up her head and blinked at the sunny day until her vision cleared.

  I will say goodbye to anyone I have to.

  “Hello, Luke.”

  * * *

  He had no idea what to say.

  Nail guns fired high above them on the hospital roof. Patricia was sitting properly at the table, of course, with her hair pinned up properly, too. Luke was facing the other way. He stretched his legs out and leaned back against the table. He knew he ought to say something, but his mind was drawing a blank.

  This was getting to be a bad habit of his, chasing after Patricia with no more than a half-baked plan in mind. He’d done it the first day he’d laid eyes on her, when he’d come back for the glove at night. He’d found her right here, and he’d cared enough to make her eat and sleep. In return, she’d cared about him so much that when he’d fought a fire, she’d worried herself nearly sick.

  Ah, but that had made for a great night, hiding out from the thunderstorm. Not a bad outcome for a man with no plan.

  He’d chased after her again after that, after watching her work alone through lunch, on some half-baked hunch that she might need a friend during the day as well as a secret lover during the night. She never ate alone now, and it was a helluva lot of fun to tease her in broad daylight. That chase had turned out all right.

  Here he was without knowing what he wanted from her. Again.

  “Since I said ‘hello, Luke’ and you haven’t said anything, I can only assume you are about to tell me you’ve had a thought. Perhaps two, given this long silence.”

  The words were right, a classic Patricia zinger that should have made him grin, but she seemed fragile today.

  “I’d say it’s less like I’m thinking and more like I’m wondering. For one thing, I’m wondering what it is you’re dreading going back to. For another thing, I’m wondering why you didn’t tell me you were Daddy Cargill’s daughter.”

  He was watching her closely, but she gave no indication that he’d surprised her at all. Not the smallest flinch.

  “Chief Rouhotas told you?” She immediately answered her own question. “It wouldn’t have occurred to Quinn to tell you. It had to have been Rouhotas. I could tell that he knew, although he’s never said so.”

  “If he’s never said so, then how do you know he knows?”

  She laughed, but it sounded as brittle as she appeared. “It’s obvious in the way he looks at me.” She turned her chin, not her shoulders, just her face, and looked him in the eyes. “Look at how you’re looking at me now. Money changes everything.”

  “I’m not looking at you like Rouhotas.”

  “No, not quite. It hasn’t occurred to you yet to ask me to buy you something.”

  That shocked him. He was already edgy and frankly angry that he’d been blindsided by Rouhotas. “I don’t ask women for gifts. Cash has nothing to do with what I need from you.”

  “Then what do you need from me, Luke?”

  From the roof above them, more nail guns fired away. Their private place had been inv
aded. Their summer romance was ending.

  Not like this. Not here. Not now.

  “What I need is more time with you. Have Karen take over at supper, like she’s supposed to. Eat dinner early. I’m not waiting until dark to see you again.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Luke barged into Patricia’s admin tent, hauling his bulky, beige turnout coat and pants with him. “Ready, Patricia? It’s quitting time.”

  Patricia froze right along with her clerks. He’d been serious about not waiting for dark. She hoped she looked less surprised than she felt as she stood up from her desk. She grabbed a bottle of water, said good-night to everyone in general and no one in particular, and left. Even with his arms full of his uniform, Luke held the tent flap open for her as if it were a proper door and he was the perfect gentleman.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, when Luke headed away from both the permanent and mobile hospitals. He walked with energy, a man who knew where he was going. Gone was the scowl from this morning.

  She wished she didn’t have to bring that scowl back.

  “I borrowed a ride from one of the firefighters in town. It’s part of the code. If your fellow firefighter has a beautiful woman and no way to take her to the beach, then you must loan him your pickup truck. We’re going to go gaze at the waves and think deep thoughts—”

  “Oh, dear. More thinking?” Her soft-spoken barb came automatically.

  Luke grinned, as she’d known he would.

  Immediately, she felt guilty, like she’d led him on, letting him believe this would be a fun evening and not a hard goodbye.

  “And we’re going to watch the sunset,” Luke finished.

  Tomorrow, Texas Rescue would begin breaking down the less essential tents at eight in the morning. The town hospital was anxious to have them leave. Every day that the mobile hospital operated was a day the town’s hospital lost its usual income. It was another sure sign that a town was recovering, when their gratitude for the emergency help turned into calculations of lost revenue.