The Baddest Virgin in Texas

by Maggie Shayne

  Maybe he should just tell her. He nodded his head. Yeah. He'd just tell her.

  That decided, he started humming along to the tune of the music, and then he frowned. Considering what he was facing a few more miles to the south, he had to wonder just what in the hell he was feeling so good about.

  "You have to tell me where he went," Jessi went on. "Chelsea, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

  "I promised Garrett I wouldn't say anything." Chelsea had every intention of saying something—Jessi could see it in her eyes.

  "Look, this is silly. I know he left. I'm okay with that, but there's a reason I need to know where he is. I'm going to have to get in touch with him … when the time is right … and…" Jessi frowned then, and tilted her head. "Chelsea, why in the world wouldn't Garrett want me to know where Lash has gone?"

  "Because they both think you'll go running after him."

  Jessi's eyes widened. "Like I'm so desperate I need to chase a man down and throw myself at him? God, Chelsea, you don't really believe that, do you?"

  "No one believes that," she said. "No one thinks you'd go after him to throw yourself at him. It's…" She let her voice trail off.

  Jessi frowned. She knew something more was going on than what she already knew. And if she couldn't find out what it was, her name wasn't Jessica Brand.

  "If I wasn't chasing him to rope and brand him, Chelsea, why would I be going after him?"

  Chelsea lowered her eyes.

  "He's in trouble, isn't he?" Jessi whispered, and she searched her sister-in-law's face.

  "No. Not yet," Chelsea said.

  She wanted to say more, Jessi could see it plainly, but she also knew that it was up to her to ask the right questions. Chelsea couldn't just break her promise to Garrett. It was one of the things Jessi respected most about her. That deep-running sense of loyalty.

  "But he's in danger, isn't he, Chelsea?" Chelsea didn't nod, but her eyes affirmed Jessi's guess. And then Jessi caught her breath. "He went after that sleazy Zane, didn't he? I'm right, aren't I?"

  Chelsea met her eyes and said nothing.

  "Where?" Jessi pressed.

  "I can't tell you that, Jessi. I promised Garrett…"

  "But…?"

  "But if the phone should ring around midnight, and if you were to pick it up and be very quiet, you might find out exactly what's going on with Lash. I'm only saying so because I think you deserve to know and because … of this…"

  She dipped a hand into her pocket, and Jessi heard the crinkle of cellophane. Then Chelsea pulled out the pink bit of wrapper and opened her palm to reveal the home pregnancy test's brand name across the front.

  Jessi snatched it out of Chelsea's hand and jammed it into her jeans pocket, looking around them to be sure no one else had seen. "Where did you get that?"

  "It was my turn for housework," Chelsea said. "I was taking out the trash, and it sort of fluttered out of a bag. Darn lucky it was me and not one of your brothers who picked it up."

  Jessi closed her eyes and tried to slow her escalating heartbeat as she realized just how easily that might have happened. "It was those damned condoms that little freckle-faced monster poked full of holes," she confessed, her words emerging in a fast, harsh whisper. She rushed to get them out before she could change her mind.

  "Oh, Jess," Chelsea muttered. She was watching Jessi's face, waiting, all but holding her breath. "Are you going to tell me?"

  "Tell you…?"

  "Jeez, Jessi, tell me the results! I'm dying here." Jessi closed her eyes and lowered her chin to her chest.

  "Positive," she whispered. "I'm pregnant, Chelsea.

  Chelsea's arms came around her, pulled her close and held her hard. "Oh, baby, it's gonna be okay. I promise you that. This is between you and me for now, okay? No one's going to know until you're ready. And, honey, you know I'm gonna be here for you, no matter what you decide to do."

  "Thanks," Jessi said, and then she let herself hug Chelsea back, and a few tears burned her eyes.

  "Thanks. God, it's good to hear that. But I think I've already decided… I want to keep it, Chelsea."

  Chelsea stroked her hair. "Then I'll help you. You're going to be all right." She stepped back just a little and looked down at Jessi's face, smiling. "Are you going to tell him?"

  "No," she said. "No, I can't. Not yet. I want him to fall in love with me, Chels. If I tell him this, then he's going to say and do anything he thinks necessary to get me to marry him, and I want to know it's real. I won't marry a man who doesn't love me."

  "But, honey, what about the baby?"

  "What baby?" Garrett said from the doorway. Jessi stiffened and saw the look of shock in Chelsea's eyes. Then Chelsea painted her face with a great big smile and kept on talking as if she hadn't seen or heard her husband. "You going to watch that baby for me next weekend or not, Jessi? 'Cause if you can't, I need time to find someone else. I promised to fill in at the Women's Center."

  "What? Oh … um, sure. I'd love to watch little Ethan for you. Anytime." Without turning around or even glancing her brother's way, Jessi hurried out of the house.

  She closed her eyes in relief when she heard Lash's voice on the other end of the phone line at midnight that night. Her bag was already packed and waiting in the truck outside. She had a map. She'd filled the gas tank and checked the oil. She was ready.

  She covered the mouthpiece with her hand so that neither Lash nor Garrett would hear her relieved sigh when Lash's voice—sounding perfectly normal—reached her ears. She hadn't even realized she was holding her breath.

  "It was Zane, all right," Lash told Garrett. "He's here, with about a dozen others I suspect are part of his rustling operation. Then there's Petey and his crew of cutthroats. All told, I'd say this is going to be a tough nut to crack."

  "You'd better sit tight, then," Garrett said. "You got a room somewhere?"

  "Yeah, fleabag hotel called Casa del Coronado. But I can't just sit here, Garrett. I have a feeling Zane and the boys are just gonna take the money and run. And we might never track them down if that happens."

  "You stay where you are," Garrett said. "I'll call the Federales and get them started, and then the boys and I will be—"

  "No, you guys stay out of this. I don't want to be responsible for Jessi losing one of her brothers. This is my fight."

  "Hey, pal, those are my cattle about to become fajita filler, so how do you figure it's your fight?"

  "It's a family thing, like I told you. I want you to stay out of it, Garrett."

  Garrett muttered, but agreed. Jessi stood there gaping, not believing her brother would be such an idiot. Lash was going to end up dead!

  "All right, pal, but wait for the Federales, okay?"

  "Unless he makes like he's leaving town, I'll lay low."

  "Good. Now give me the pertinent details, so I can get some help on the way."

  Lash recited the address of the hotel where he was staying, and gave a phone number. Jessi grabbed for a pen and copied both down rapidly, then tore off the sheet of notepaper and jammed it into her pocket, where her pickup keys were digging into her thigh. "Be careful," Garrett said.

  "How's Jessi?" Lash asked. She was halfway to hanging up when she heard that, but she snapped the phone back to her ear.

  "Still acting pretty darned strangely, Lash. And I can't figure her out. First she was depressed again, and then tonight, she seemed kind of … I dunno, wound up and tense or something. I was hoping she'd have snapped out of it by now, but—"

  "You haven't told her where I am, have you, Garrett? You promised you—"

  "Hell, no, I haven't told her."

  "Oh." His voice sounded vaguely disappointed. "Then, she hasn't asked?"

  "Asked? Hell, Lash, she demanded. You know Jessi. But I kept my word. I guess she figures you decided it was time to move on."

  Lash was quiet for a long time.

  "Lash? Did you hear me? I said, she figures—"

  "I heard you. I didn'
t want her to go thinking that, either."

  "Well, you know how she is. Jumps to conclusions quicker than a prairie dog diving for his hole."

  "Do me a favor, Garrett?"

  Jessi gripped the receiver a little tighter as she listened.

  "You tell her I'm coming back. Just so she knows I didn't pull up and move on without even saying so long. Okay?"

  "You know, Lash, I've been trying to wait on this, because you asked me to, and because I agreed in good faith, but I think it's about time you tell me about it."

  "About what?"

  "About Jessi. And you. I mean, it seems to me that you and she have—"

  "Sorry, Garrett, you're gonna have to be patient just a little bit longer on that one. I told you we'd talk it out, and we will. But I think it's only fair I talk this through with Jessi first." There was some noise in the background, and then Lash came back on the line. "Just know I don't want to see Jessi hurt any more than you do, okay? Now I gotta go. There's a big Mexican here shaking his fist at me and shouting about el telefono," Lash said. "Goodbye, Garrett." And then the line went dead.

  Jessi restrained herself from slamming the living-room extension down and hurrying on her way. Instead, she waited for Garrett to hang up first. Then she put the phone down quietly and walked to the pickup truck parked out front. She got inside, and pulled the door closed quietly.

  She was not chasing after Lash Monroe. Her pride wouldn't allow it. And she wouldn't agree to marry him until she was sure he loved her, respected her and truly wanted her to be his wife. Not even if he got down on his knees and begged until his ears bled. No way. But maybe … maybe he was getting a little closer to loving her for real. Maybe he even did already, and just hadn't realized it yet. Maybe there was still a chance.

  She bit her lip and told herself not to get her hopes up. She didn't need him. She wasn't worthy of the Brand name if she couldn't have her baby and raise it perfectly well on her own without any help from any man.

  But, God, she wanted him. She wanted him so much it hurt all the time, like a toothache that wouldn't go away. She even ached for him in her sleep.

  But there was a whole other issue here. He was the father of the child she was carrying. And there was no way in hell she could sit safe and sound at home while her baby's father was out there getting himself killed. She had to do something. Lash wasn't going to rob her child of the chance to know its father.

  Besides, she loved the damned fool.

  Jessi coasted the pickup truck as far as it would go, and then she turned the key.

  Garrett sat up in bed at the loud protests coming from the holes in Jessi's muffler. "Where the hell do you suppose she's off to at this time of the night?"

  "Veterinary emergency?" Chelsea suggested.

  "The phone didn't ring."

  Chelsea was quiet for a very long moment, and Garrett reached out to flick on the lamp so that he could study her face. Damn. She had something to say. Something she was dying to get out. "Chelsea, hon?"

  "The phone did ring, Garrett. And when the phone rings in the middle of the night, and you're a veterinarian, you probably tend to dive for it in case it's a veterinary emergency, wouldn't you think?"

  Garrett just looked at her. Just sat in the bed and stared at her. She was telling him something. "If Jessi did pick up the phone, she would have said something."

  "I don't know," Chelsea said. "I mean, if she picks it up and starts hearing the answers to questions she's been wondering about for a day or two, she might not say a word."

  "She went down there after Lash, didn't she?"

  "My goodness, I hope not!" Chelsea sat up in the bed. "I mean, it sounded to me like Lash was in trouble right up to his neck down there." Then she frowned. "Oh, but that can't be right. You didn't think it was necessary for you and your brothers to go help him out, so it must be perfectly safe for your baby sister, as well, right?"

  Garrett closed his eyes, feeling the barb of guilt his wife had no doubt inflicted on purpose. He flung back the covers and pulled on his jeans, opened the bedroom door and hollered. "Ben, Elliot, Wes! Get up, and get dressed. Time for a road trip."

  Jessi's old pickup truck wouldn't go above forty-five unless it was out of gear and going down a steep hill. Going uphill, she didn't think it would hit fifteen, but, thankfully, these roads were pretty much flat. There was another route that would have been a bit shorter, but there were one or two inclines on it that would have been too much for the old engine, so she chose the flat way, knowing it would be faster in the long run.

  She'd breezed through customs without incident, though one young officer had advised her not to drive too far from home in that truck. Hell, the truck ran fine, just a little slowly, was all. Once she got past the border, she pulled off the road, turned on her dome light and consulted the map she'd purchased earlier. She was nothing if not prepared. She found the little town of Pueblo Bonito and mentally plotted out her route.

  But then a pair of bounding high beams cut through the windshield, glaring into her eyes, and she couldn't see a thing. Panic seeped into her brain when the lights stopped, facing her, the vehicle having pulled off onto the shoulder, right in front of hers. Instinctively she reached out to lock both doors, and then she turned her key to crank the motor. She'd just back up, fast. All the way back to the border guys, if necessary. These lowlifes were going to be sorely disappointed if they thought they'd found some lost American female who'd make easy prey for their night's amusement. The dirty—

  The headlights went out, and Jessi blinked in the sudden darkness. Was that—?

  Four tall shapes emerged from the shiny new oversize pickup truck and sauntered toward her. Shapes she wished she didn't recognize. She thought about shifting into reverse and making a run for it anyway, but she knew she didn't stand a chance of outrunning Garrett in his brand-new umpteen-horsepower machine. Maybe they'd believe she was just out for a little evenin' drive.

  She unlocked her door and rolled down her window. Garrett leaned his crossed forearms on the door, then smiled at her. "Honey, you gotta come home now."

  "The hell I do," she said, instantly on the defensive, no matter how sweet his smile.

  His smile turned to a frown. "What good do you think you can do down here? Hmm? You'd just get yourself hurt, and then Lash would have more to worry about than he already does."

  Jessi wrenched on her door handle, shoved it open, pushing her oversize brother out of the way as she got out, and then slammed it again, standing toe-to-toe and nose-to-chest with him. "Seems to me I did you quite a bit of good when you were in trouble, Garrett Brand. Seems to me when one member of this family needs help, there are usually Brands coming out of the woodwork to see he gets it. And you and I both know that Lash is in trouble down here."

  Wes, standing off to one side, tilted his head and eyed Garrett. "That true, brother?"

  "He'll be fine so long as he keeps his head down."

  Elliot piped up. "Well, sure, Garrett. But supposing he don't keep his head down?"

  "You know, Garrett, he did get his face all busted up defending our sister's honor. Don't we kind of owe him one?" Ben asked.

  Garrett sighed heavily and turned to face them all. "Look, guys, this isn't my decision. Lash made me promise to stay out of this. It's a family thing. A long-overdue showdown between him and his foster brother, and he wants to handle it alone. I gave him my word."

  "Yup," Wes said, voice deep and slow. "Just like you made all of us give you our word not to get involved when you were walking into an ambush in that box canyon. But remember, Garrett, if we'd kept our word back then, you'd be dead right now. Maybe Chelsea would, too."

  "Exactly," Jessi said. "Lash needs our help, and I'm going to give it to him. Whether he wants it or not is completely beside the point."

  Garrett shook his head. "Look, I get the feeling this thing with him and Zane is private. It would be different if Lash were family, but he's not, and—"

  "You're wron
g about that," Jessi said, and then she bit her lip, because her brothers were all staring at her, waiting for—and probably fully expecting—her to have the last word. Only … they were gonna flip when they heard what that last word was. She closed her eyes and drew a breath. "Technically, Lash is family."

  "How's that?" Elliot asked innocently. She opened her eyes just to slits, and saw Wes and Garrett's tempers sizzling to life. Ben stood calmly, no emotion showing on his face.

  She scrunched her face up tight, clenched her hands into trembling fists at her sides and blurted out, "I'm carrying his baby."

  Silence. Dead, stony silence. She opened her eyes just enough to peek out at them. Their faces were shocked, but turning mean. Reddening. Jaws tight. Teeth grinding. And yet they didn't speak. It was so quiet she could hear the ghostly moan of a distant wind in the desert, and the crunching, skittering sound of a tumbleweed rolling around somewhere out there. It all felt like a scene in an old western film—the one just before the big showdown. That moment when all the townsfolk hustle their women and children off the streets, and the black-clothed gunslingers step out on opposite ends to face each other. Death seemed to hang on the air. It might be after midnight, but there was a definite "high noon" feeling to all of this.

  Then, finally, someone spoke. It was Wes. He said, "I'll kill him! I'll kill that double-dealing snake in the grass. I'll—"

  "Can't kill him," Garrett said, and it tore at Jessi that his voice was a little choked with emotion. "We can make him wish to God we'd kill him, but we can't kill him. 'Cause there has to be enough of him left to marry her."

  "Oh, no—"

  "Man," Elliot said, "I sure hope Zane has Lash in a coma or something before we get there. He'd be better off."

  Ben touched her shoulders. "Are you okay, Jessi?"

  "I'm gonna take my bull whip to that yellow-bellied liar and strip every inch of hide off his sidewindin' body!" Wes threw his precious Stetson on the dusty road and stomped on it. "I'm gonna pull my bowie outta my boot and—"