Last of the Red-Hot Cowboys

by Tina Leonard

  “Home! You’re not happy there?”

  “I’m happy,” she said carefully, and Callum said, “Oh, you’ve met a man.”

  He knew her too well. “I have, but it’s not like that.”

  “You can’t quit and come home just because of a dude. You want me to come there and kick his ass?”

  She smiled. “No, thank you.” Callum was a huge, brawny policeman. The women loved him, but he never settled with one, saying that cop work was too dangerous for him to settle down while he was young, that it wouldn’t be fair to a family. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “I can still come kick him around, just to make myself feel better. I don’t like anybody upsetting you.”

  “I think I like him, and that’s what upsets me.”

  “You’ve had serious relationships before.”

  “This isn’t quite like that.” Those had been the starry-eyed crushes of a young girl. What she felt for Trace was so entirely different she felt like she finally knew what it was to fall deeply, truly in love.

  She couldn’t be in love.

  That would be so dumb.

  “You don’t want to come back just because of some guy. Trust me, you’ll always regret it. Now talk to Mom. She wants to send you some chocolate chip cookies. She’s just sure they don’t have any food where you are.”

  Her mother got on the phone, then her father, then the rest of her brothers, and by the time Ava had talked to every single member of her family, she felt better. More in control.

  The facts were the facts, and she’d fallen for a man who had no interest in anything beyond himself. He’d kicked her out of training, and even though he claimed he’d take her back, she knew too well that had been a pity offer borne out of his embarrassment that Saint and Declan had picked up her training. Besides which, Trace would do anything for Judy—he’d had a freak-out about bullfighting, but he was also a control nut, and once he’d realized she was serious, he didn’t want anybody else training the team.

  Thankfully, she knew all this. Last night had been a strange aberration: Tension and worry left over after the bar brawl at Ivy’s. Trace’s injured arm. The wild night on the town.

  The fact that she was truly crazy about him.

  But that was then and this was now. And I’m very good at knowing my limits.

  She went to find her team. They were on the sofa, waiting for her.

  “Where’d the couch potatoes go?”

  “They left,” Cameron said.

  “Oh. They’ll be back, I’m pretty sure.” She picked up her keys. It was time to head into town and check on her horse.

  “They won’t be back,” Harper said, her voice quiet. “They said they were leaving town.”

  Ava’s gaze went to Cameron, who looked miserable as she nodded. “They said it was time to get some air.”

  “They wouldn’t leave Hell. They have a business here—not that Trace couldn’t run it in their absence, I’m sure. But he’s got a bad arm.” Ava shook her head. “They would never leave him, or the mayor, or any of their small-town busybodying buddies.”

  “They said it was time for Trace to grow. And that he can’t grow with them around to coddle him and lean on,” Cameron said.

  “He’s twenty-eight. He was a platoon leader.”

  Harper shrugged, sipped her coffee. “They said they know Trace best, and right now, Trace needs to be on his own in order to grow. Whatever that means.”

  “Well, those buttheads,” Ava said. “Saint trains me. He didn’t even give me notice.” Surely they hadn’t meant it. Those guys were totally loyal to Trace, not to mention that they seemed to have a thing for her teammates that didn’t seem entirely a “just friends” kind of thing.

  “He said Trace was taking over your training,” Harper said. “And they also said they wanted you to take real good care of their buddy while they’re gone. The best care, because Trace can’t take care of himself, even if he thinks he can. And make sure he doesn’t take his stitches out himself. Last time he did it, he made a mess of everything, at least according to them.”

  Great. Just great. The sexiest cowboy she’d ever laid eyes on, and she was supposed to take care of him?

  What could possibly go wrong with that plan?

  * * *

  Ava went to Redfeathers on Saturday night to meet Judy, who claimed that this dinner was going to be something special. Cameron and Harper went with her, drooping a bit now that the Outlaws had left town.

  Ava was dying to get Judy’s perspective on that. The mayor walked in, tall and beautiful as ever, stealing every eye in the joint, seemingly wearing her shorn half-hair like a badge of honor. No one would have dared mention the half-hair Judy was rocking, courtesy of Ivy Peters.

  “Saint and Declan are gone?” Judy said when she learned what had transpired. She didn’t seem the least bit apologetic for having been the instigator of the event that had apparently changed everything in Hell. She looked at Trace, who’d belatedly joined them, sliding into the booth with a nod at Ava.

  Like last night had never happened. Ava glanced back at Judy, waiting for her instructor’s assessment.

  “Those wienies,” Judy declared. “Well, if you can’t take the heat, get out of Hell’s kitchen, I’d say.” She looked at the steaming chicken breast on a bed of brown rice and colorful vegetables on the side Stephen Redfeathers placed in front of her. A fruit salad accompanied that, so fresh Ava could smell the watermelon balls and summery mint.

  Trace received the same, which seemed to puzzle him.

  “No meat loaf surprise?” Trace asked.

  Stephen glowered at him.

  “This looks delicious,” Trace quickly said. “Thank you, Stephen.”

  The tall Native American went on his way, seemingly appeased. Judy looked at Trace.

  “If you want to keep eating dinners here, you’ll eat what’s put in front of you with a smile and without comment, just like you do at your parents’ house.”

  Ava perked up. “Where do your parents live?”

  “Right here.” Trace shrugged.

  So he wasn’t a total loner. Saint and Declan had been exaggerating just a bit about Trace’s need to be nursed.

  “How’s the arm?” Ava asked.

  “What’s the matter with your arm?” Judy peered at him. “What’d you do, pull Prince out of a catfight?”

  “It was a catfight, but not necessarily one Prince participated in,” Trace said.

  Judy looked at his arm closely, went back to perusing her dinner. “I’d recognize Dr. Ann’s stitches anywhere. By the way, you don’t want to take your stitches out yourself—”

  “I know, I know.” He glanced at Ava, shook his head.

  “Trace got caught with a bottle last night at Ivy’s,” Ava said. If Trace wasn’t going to tell Judy the truth, someone had to. The whole thing had been ridiculous and obviously dangerous, not an event to be repeated.

  Judy looked at Trace. “That’s not like you. You’re usually the one causing trouble.”

  Trace waved his fork, dug into his meal.

  “Judy,” Ava said, “where’s Steel?”

  “How would I know?” Judy looked at her oddly.

  Ava sighed. “I guess what I really don’t understand is why you bother to go out to Ivy’s to raise hell—”

  “Ava,” Trace said, his tone low and a little “don’t-go-there.”

  It just egged her on. “I mean, it was dangerous. And foolish. Trace got hurt, and Saint and Declan are gone. You don’t even seem to know where Steel is, but you wouldn’t have gone out to Ivy’s if you weren’t trying to keep him from another woman.”

  Everyone at the table stared at her. “All I’m saying is that you brought us here on a ruse, Judy. You didn’t have a team; you didn’t have a training program in place. Last night changed a lot of things in Hell. A lot. And you don’t seem to notice.”

  Judy’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t like it here, Ava, you have the return t
icket that I gave each of you when you came here.” She looked at Cameron and Harper. “All of you.”

  Trace shook his head at Ava ever so slightly. She looked at Judy, took a deep breath. “Steel isn’t interested in Ivy, Judy. We shouldn’t go out there again. You shouldn’t.”

  “Well, aren’t you cute telling me what to do,” Judy said.

  Ava sighed. “I’m not. I’m saying last night hurt people.”

  Trace got up. “Ava, come on.”

  “Where are you going, Trace?” Judy asked, her tone silky. “Ava’s on my team. I’m interested in hearing what she has to say. Stay in your seat, Ava.”

  Cameron and Harper’s mouths had fallen open. Trace grabbed Ava’s hand. “She can’t right now, Judy. I’m putting her on Rory’s bull tonight, to let her get the feel of what she’s going to be defending. So if you’ll excuse us, ladies, we’ll be heading off.”

  He practically dragged her from Redfeathers.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Ava demanded.

  “Saving you.”

  His tone was grim, his hold on her determined. “I didn’t say anything but the truth,” she said.

  “The truth is fine, to anyone but Judy. We don’t speak quite so plainly to our mayor.” He unlocked his truck, fairly pushed her inside. “Seat belt.”

  He went around to his side, started the truck, hit the road without glancing back at Redfeathers.

  “What has gotten into you?” Ava asked.

  “You were about to get fired,” Trace said, “and if you don’t mind, I’m not ready for that to happen.”

  “Fired? She can’t fire me for speaking the truth. Look at your arm! And your brothers have disappeared. We’re all supposed to act like that didn’t happen when it could have been much worse?”

  He pulled into his driveway, took hold of her face, kissed her deeply, making her think about last night. Not that she could forget; her mind had played over every glorious moment a million times today. She moaned into his mouth, wishing already that they were naked together.

  She pulled back when he released her, a little stunned.

  “Were you sitting at the table tonight pretending that that didn’t happen last night?” Trace demanded. “Not everybody wears their heart on their sleeve. Judy had already apologized to me privately.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You’re right, I shouldn’t have opened my mouth.”

  He got out of the truck, opened her door. “No. You shouldn’t have. Not to anyone but me.” He kissed her hard, making her knees weak and her head swim. “It was cute as hell to hear you trying to defend me, buttercup. I don’t need defending, but that’s when I knew that you really are cut from Judy’s cloth. You like me, but you’re going to act like you don’t. That’s okay. I know just what to do about that.”

  He wrapped her legs around his waist, carrying her to the door, taking them inside, slamming the door with a backward kick.

  “Put me down.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  He lightly bit her neck, nuzzled and then kissed that same spot. Shivers ran up her back.

  “Last night can’t happen again. To any of us.”

  He kissed her hard, blowing her mind. “I haven’t even begun to make love to you. Are you sure you don’t want last night to happen again?” Trace asked.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ava looked into Trace’s eyes, startled by his question. “Do you? Want last night to happen again?”

  He seemed to consider her words forever. Just as he was about to tell her, a knock at the door interrupted his words.

  “Stay right here. I have an answer to that question. And it has to do with getting you out of that sexy skirt.”

  He left the den, went to the front door. “Why did I have a feeling it would be you?” Ava heard Trace say, and she craned to see who was out there.

  Buck walked in, grinning when he saw Ava. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “Nothing at all,” Ava said coolly. “In fact, I was just going.”

  “No you’re not.” Trace looked at Buck. “Buck’s leaving. After he says his piece.”

  He glanced at Trace’s arm. “Wondered if you had to get stitches.”

  “Yeah, and if I find out who threw that bottle, they’re going to wish they hadn’t.” Trace shrugged. “You folks need to calm things down out there.”

  Buck glanced at Ava. “Can we talk privately?”

  “I’d rather not,” Trace said, sighing, “but what the hell. The suspense is killing me. Ava, do not move.”

  Of course she crept to the door to listen when they went outside. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t?

  “Ivy’s planning to bring charges against Judy.”

  “So why are you telling me?” Trace asked. “And what charges?”

  “A host of them, but basically trespassing and inciting a riot.”

  “It’s a public place.”

  “You know as well as I do that Judy’s been told to stay away from the Honky-tonk. That was the agreement in the settlement last summer.”

  Ava’s blood froze.

  “What do you want me to do about Ivy?” Trace asked. “If she’s going to file a complaint, or a lawsuit, that’s her business. I can’t stop her.”

  “No one can. All I’m saying is that you have to keep Judy away from the Honky-tonk. And keep her away from Ivy. It affects everyone, and you might consider that it even affects your girlfriend in there.”

  Girlfriend? It had a nice ring to it—but Trace had never tried to nail down their relationship.

  “Why are you telling me this? We’re not exactly friends,” Trace said.

  “I don’t want to be your friend. To be honest, being your enemy is fine. But Wild Jack doesn’t want any more trouble out there. He says it’s bad for business. Judy’s trouble—she’s always stirring the pot, and you can’t deny that.”

  “She also does a lot of good. Since she came here fifteen years ago, she’s taken us from being a backwater to at least being sometimes civilized.”

  “Ivy likes it rough. She likes Hell being uncivilized. This team Judy’s brought in is just her way of trying to tip the scales. If she can get you lot married off, that’s three less men for Ivy.”

  “Not that I spend that much time at the Honky-tonk,” Trace said.

  “Well, there was a time—”

  “A while back,” Trace said, and Ava’s blood ran colder.

  “Don’t act like you weren’t in love.”

  “You know anything about dead chickens at Rory’s place?” Trace asked, and Ava closed her eyes. He hadn’t denied being in love with someone out at Ivy’s. What Judy had told her, when she’d brought her to Hell, was to convince Trace to take her on. Sweet-talk him.

  Buck was right: Judy was bringing women to Hell who would entice the men to settle down—and not with Ivy’s girls. She’d seen Ivy’s girls, and most of them were lookers, some even stunning. Judy would have seen what Hell would become if Ivy lured the bachelors out to her place.

  Judy would fight that tooth and nail.

  Ava had been a pawn.

  “Chickens?” Buck asked. “Dead chickens? That’s not good. Waste of money.”

  “Why was the judge seeing Wild Jack last night?”

  “Now, that is none of your business.”

  “It’s my business if you want me to keep Judy away from Ivy,” Trace said.

  “Wild Jack is doing a little business with the judge. Not sure what it is, so don’t ask me. Whatever it was got sidelined last night, after Judy’s little stunt. He was not pleased.”

  “No one was pleased.”

  “I’m shoving off,” Buck said. “But just remember, what affects Judy also affects that lady of yours. I’m willing to bet she doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into in Hell.”

  Ava scrambled back to the sofa, her heart somehow feeling like it was dying.

  Trace walked into the den, sat on the sofa opposite her. “I’m sure
you pulled a Judy and heard every word, so I don’t have to fill you in.”

  She stared at him. “I’m probably not as good at it as Judy, but I gave it my best shot.”

  He nodded. “Then you know that we’ve got big trouble.”

  Ava didn’t know what to say. Her mind whirled with everything she’d heard. But none of it could be erased. Everything Buck had said had happened was part of Hell’s history—and she couldn’t become part of Judy’s determined game against her rival.

  Trace looked at her. “Hell isn’t your home, Ava. You don’t have to get caught up in this.”

  She stared at him.

  “In fact, it would be best for you if you didn’t. Whatever you came here for isn’t what you’re involved in now. Or may become involved in. Maybe you’re okay with that.” He got up, paced the room. “But you need to be aware of the situation. If Ivy brings any kind of lawsuit, you will be dragged in, either as a character witness or as a witness to what happened last night. If Buck showed up at my door to tell me this, Ivy’s serious.”

  She nodded. “I got that.”

  “There’s nothing keeping you here.”

  She nodded again. “I know that, too.”

  He sat down again, across from her, not near, not about to touch her. Keeping his distance, giving her space. “Were you really in love with one of Ivy’s girls?”

  “Yes.”

  She blinked at his honesty, took a deep, shuddering breath. “Are you going to tell Judy that she can’t go back to Ivy’s?”

  “No.”

  She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. “Why not?”

  “Because no one tells Judy anything. If a lawsuit or a citation happens, we’ll deal with that then. But if I—or you—tell Judy not to do anything, she’ll do it at top speed. One does not throw down a challenge to our mayor.”

  “Do you want to take me home?”

  “No. I don’t.” He came to her on the sofa, sat next to her, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to take you home. But the last thing I want you to do is get involved with the day-to-day business of Hell. Everyone plays rough here.” He kissed her hand, holding her fingertips against his lips for a moment. “You didn’t come here for this. That’s just a fact. It’s not fair to you to get drawn into something like this. You’re a serious rider. Even if you never get to bullfight, you’re still an amazingly talented rider. You’ve got a great horse. You can do a lot of things. If I was you, I’d look cold and hard at my options, and more than likely realize I had a lot brighter future elsewhere.”