by Jess Bryant
“Very funny.”
“How close did you get before she shut you down?”
“One more word and I’m calling mom.”
“Okay, okay… damn you’re really sour on this girl huh?”
“I can pretty much bet you that if I ever see her again it’ll be too soon.”
It was a good thing Bluebell was packing up and leaving town first thing tomorrow morning. If she was sticking around he’d track her down and wring her neck. Screwing her was the last thing on his mind now.
“Don’t suppose you’re going to tell me who she is?”
“No.”
“Fine. Hand me a beer, I need to talk to you about the ranch and I can see it ain’t going to go smoothly with the mood you’re in.”
Zach rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to tell his brother not to say ain’t. Correcting his brothers came naturally but he said it just as much as they did. Besides, as they liked to point out, they were adults now. Instead he grabbed a beer, gave it a hard shake and tossed it at his brother.
“Nice.” Devin caught it with a snort but set it aside so it didn’t blow up in his face.
“What’d you want to talk about?”
Like he didn’t know?
“Mom told me what you said about selling your part of the ranch.”
Of course she had.
“I was just upset. I don’t…”
“I think it’s a good idea.”
Zach nearly blew beer out his nose. As it was he choked and sputtered. He had to set the beer down and his eyes watered. It took another couple of coughs to get air back into his lungs and it stung like raw hide. He half expected Devin to get up and come pound on his back but his traitorous brother simply watched him stammer and waited.
“What?” He asked when he finally recovered enough to speak. Surely he hadn’t heard right.
“You heard me.”
“You want me to sell my stake in the Triple Star? Are you crazy or just plain stupid?”
“Neither.”
Zach stared his younger brother down and tried to figure out who the stranger sitting at his table was. It still looked like Devin but his brother knew he’d given up everything for this ranch. He would never think that Zach could actually walk away from it.
“You’re going to need to make yourself real clear Devin.”
“You’ve run the ranch for half your life. I think it’s long past time that you did something else, something you actually want to do. Riley’s done with school now. I’m here and nobody loves this place more than me. Let us take care of it.”
He’d wrongly thought his blood pressure couldn’t get any higher tonight. Dark spots danced in his vision. His fists curled into balls instinctively.
“You want to push me off my own fucking land now? Is that it?”
“What? No.” Devin shoved to his feet which was not the right move.
Zach wanted to punch something, hard. He’d already had more than enough reason to want to tear something apart when he got home. Devin being here now, saying he wanted Zach to give up the ranch that he’d been in charge of since he was just a kid was too much.
He’d never punched one of his brothers, not once. He’d always been able to control the anger when it shot to the surface. He’d always been the bigger man, the big brother. He’d learned to suck it up, to bury it down deep and when that didn’t work he picked a fight with someone else. Tonight there was nobody else.
“Get out of my house.” He growled.
“Zach. Listen, you’re not thinking…”
“Out. Now. I’m serious Devin. You don’t want to be here right now. Trust me.”
The tone of his voice must have sounded lethal because Devin actually took a cautious step back and put his hands up. Zach was seething. He couldn’t take his anger out on his brother so he needed him gone.
“I’m not trying to take anything from you. You never wanted any of this. You never wanted the land and the cattle and the responsibility. If Dad hadn’t died you’d have gone to college and got a job doing something else.”
“Yeah well, Dad did die. He died and he left me to take care of you and Riley and mom, to take care of the ranch. I gave up everything so there would still be a ranch to run when you and Riley were old enough so don’t stand in my fucking kitchen and tell me you want me to give you what’s mine.”
“I thought you’d want this.” Devin sighed.
“Want to hand over everything I’ve worked my ass off to create?” He picked up the beer bottle, rethought it and slammed it back down.
“You never wanted this place. You hate the sunup to sundown schedule. You wouldn’t even talk about buying that land back from the Montgomery plot. It’s a good investment, a good offer and you won’t even look at the paperwork because it’d be more acreage you’d have to deal with.”
“That’s what this is about isn’t it? The Montgomery land? You’re mad I said no?”
“I’m mad you wouldn’t even look at it. I’m mad you still treat me and Riley like we’re kids instead of business partners.”
“Fine. Take the damn land if that’s what you want but don’t look at me and tell me that you think you’re doing me a favor by taking the Triple Star away from me.”
“I thought you’d want this. Really, I’m not trying to force you out Zach.”
“It’s all I have. I gave up everything for this place. I don’t have anything else.” He snarled.
He hated having to say the words. Devin should have known. Devin should understand even if nobody else did.
Riley was too young those first few years to see how hard it had been but Devin had been fourteen. He’d been old enough to know that bills weren’t being paid. He’d been old enough to know how close they’d come to losing everything. He’d been old enough to see Zach had poured everything he had back into the land to keep them going.
So how was his brother standing in his kitchen telling him he thought walking away from it now was even an option? Sure he’d thought for a minute it might be nice to let his brothers take over but that was just him living in a dreamland. He didn’t have anything else. He hadn’t gone to college. He didn’t have any other skills than being a rancher and Devin wanted to take that from him with some misguided notion of setting him free.
“Zach?”
“Go away Devin.” He tried to sort through the tornado of emotions roiling in his gut.
“No.”
He looked up and met the green eyes that looked just like his. There were photos from when they were kids that even their mother had a hard time distinguishing which son it was thanks to their resemblance. As adults it was still obvious they were brothers though Devin wasn’t as tall and wore his dark hair long around his shoulders. Looking at him was sort of like looking at a younger, stockier version of himself. Tonight he looked like a complete stranger.
“What’d you say?”
“I said no.” Devin crossed his arms over his chest, “You’re taking this all wrong because you’re in a bad mood. Calm down and think logically. I’m not trying to take the ranch away from you. I’m trying to give you an out.”
“An out?”
“Yes. Riley and I aren’t little kids anymore. We don’t need you to keep making all the decisions on your own. Don’t sell us your stake in the ranch, fine. But at least let us take on some of the responsibility; let us help you for once.”
“I don’t need any help.”
“Of course not, you’re not a stubborn son of a bitch either I suppose.” Devin shook his head, “Just think about it okay. Nobody’s going to take the ranch away from you. I just thought you might want the chance to do something else with your life. If I was wrong, I’m sorry.”
Zach took deep gulping breathes and tried to calm down. Was he overreacting? Probably. It had been a long night so far and he wasn’t sure where he stood on much of anything. His brothers wanted more power in the ranch. He wanted some of the weight off his shoulders. But that didn’t me
an he’d walk away. Ever.
“I’m not selling you my stake. I might not have chosen this life if Dad were still around but it’s the only one I know.”
“Fair enough.”
“But I’ll think about letting you and Riley take on more responsibility.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
“Good. Now get out of my house, I still want to punch something and your ugly mug is looking pretty good right about now.”
Devin chuckled and broke through the tension that had built up in the small room. Zach could be logical and reasonable. He still needed to beat the crap out of something because the frustration had built to an unbearable level but he was calm enough to be rational and take it out on the tile floor in the master bath instead of his younger brother.
“You didn’t hit me when I wrecked the white dodge when I was sixteen so I doubt you’d hit me now.”
Zach snorted.
“You didn’t even hit me when I punched you that time.” Devin smirked.
That time was a time they didn’t talk about so Zach came back with a smartass response instead, “Reminding me of all the times you truly deserved an ass-whipping isn’t exactly helping.”
Devin just grinned and settled his hip against the counter, “You mean like the time I got caught buying beer with that fake id.”
Zach chuckled at the memory, “Or the time you nearly burned the barn down.”
“Or the time I almost cut my hand off trying to saw off the shotgun because I saw it on some damn TV show?”
They both laughed then and some of the weight eased from Zach’s shoulders. Devin had been a wild one even when their father was around. He’d started to settle down the past few years but he’d always be “that wild West boy” to most of the people of Fate.
Zach wouldn’t have it any other way. Devin was his younger brother. He was allowed to run wild, do what he wanted. He had that freedom because Zach had made sure he wasn’t touched by the weight of responsibility too early in life. He’d never take back any of the decisions that brought them here.
“Thanks for stopping by.” He picked his beer back up, “I’ll think about what you said. You want an actual beer?”
“Nah. I’ll leave you to it.” Devin shrugged out of the doorway and grinned, “You should probably put some ice on that situation.”
“Kiss my…”
“Yeah yeah I know.” His brother laughed, “I’m going, just think about what I said.”
Zach watched his brother’s back as he disappeared out the front door, the screen door slamming behind him. Only Devin had ever been able to talk him down once his fury hit the surface. His middle brother was a calming influence… Except of course when he was the one driving him crazy in the first place. Zach grabbed his beer and sucked it dry. He thought about grabbing another but that wouldn’t even put a dent in the pounding behind his temples so he tossed the empty in the garbage and headed down the hallway instead.
The master bedroom was the first thing he’d renovated in the house when his mother moved out. He’d ripped out the carpet and conditioned the wood that lay below. He’d stripped out the flowered wallpaper and painted the walls a cool khaki. His parents’ furniture had been replaced with big, dark wood pieces.
It was a man’s bedroom, the type of place that would never be mistaken for a place a woman could inhabit. He hadn’t set out to make it that way but that’s the way it had turned out. A woman would never mistake it for a place to nest which was fine by him, not that he’d ever made it a habit of bringing women back here.
He glared at his bed and cursed Bluebell Montgomery Carter one more time. How he could still manage to wonder what she’d look like tangled in his sheets despite everything that had happened tonight was beyond him. He summed it up to the fact she’d run out on him when he’d just barely gotten started with her and continued into the master bathroom, knowing sleep wouldn’t come anytime soon.
The sledgehammer was already leaning against the wall near the light switch. He’d pulled out all the cabinetry leaving the room mostly bare. Plastic sheeting covered the shower and tub.
Zach shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it aside. Normally he’d switch out his nice jeans for his old worn out work pants and boots but he simply picked up the sledgehammer and set about creating some destruction. The hammer connected and the tiles splintered beneath his feet.
He told Devin he’d think about the ranch business. He told him that he would think more about the Montgomery land and letting his brothers take more responsibility. He’d promised to think about it but that wasn’t going to happen tonight.
Tonight he needed to get all of his aggravation out. He needed a distraction. He needed to forget about everything for a little bit so he did the only thing he could. He tore apart his bathroom and let all of the pent up anger and frustration pour into building something new, something better.
Chapter Seven
The light pouring through the window signaled it was morning. Blue groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. It couldn’t be morning. She felt like she’d just barely fallen asleep.
She’d tossed and turned with the memory of what she’d done last night. She’d come really close to letting a virtual stranger screw her on the hood of her car. As it was she’d embarrassed herself more than she’d ever thought possible.
She hadn’t meant to fly apart the instant he touched her. She hadn’t meant to let it even get that far but he’d kissed her and she’d simply… responded. She hadn’t let herself do that in a very long time which was why it had probably taken all of thirty seconds for her to forget where they were.
Her only sense of relief was that nobody had come out of the rec center and seen them. Odds were good if anyone had the phone lines would have already heated up with the gossip. The idea of just how juicy a fact like finding Bluebell Carter with Zach West’s hand up her skirt in the First Baptist Church parking lot was enough to make her nauseous.
The only saving grace was that she’d never have to face Zach again. Just the idea of seeing him had her thinking about things she couldn’t think about, things like the feel of his big strong hands and that smooth smile. Odds were good she’d never see that smile again.
He’d been really angry when she shoved him away and tore out of that parking lot. She didn’t blame him. If she was a guy she’d have been none too happy to be left hanging like that.
Still, she’d been so embarrassed and appalled by her actions she’d contemplated simply driving straight out of town last night. She’d have done it too if she hadn’t made a breakfast date with her father. She’d have done it if she didn’t have one last thing to deal with.
She needed to talk to her father. She needed to know just how sick he was since everyone in town seemed to think it was pretty bad. She was going to have some scrambled eggs and bacon. She was going to swallow a couple cups of coffee and then she was going to get the hell out of Texas as fast as humanly possible.
Texas made her crazy. Being in Fate made her do insane things as evidenced by her behavior towards a certain charming cowboy since the moment she hit the city limit sign. Not seeing him ever again was just an added bonus to getting out of dodge.
Blue rolled to her feet and ignored the bedroom surrounding her. Nothing in her childhood bedroom had changed since the day she waved goodbye and headed off to college. Still, she’d never felt comfortable sleeping here so she’d sum up her awful nights rest as much to that as her humiliation.
She pulled a robe on over her tank top and pajama bottoms and padded down the dark wood staircase. When she was little she’d once tried to slide down the banister. That had resulted in a gash to her forehead and a bucket of tears. It had also resulted in her father’s admonishment of choice.
“Bluebell, cowgirls don’t cry.”
There was the ding of dishes in the kitchen so she followed the sound. Just as she’d expected Arlene was hovering over the stove. She was cracking eggs and humming along to t
he radio when Blue slid onto a barstool.
“Morning.”
“Good morning Bluebell. How’d you sleep?” Arlene flipped a knob on the stove and gave her a wide smile.
“Fine.” She lied.
“You want a glass of orange juice?”
“Sure.”
She watched the older woman grab a glass and open the fridge. Arlene was dressed in a pair of form fitting leggings and an oversized purple tie-died shirt. Some things were never going to change.
Just like the fact that her father was nowhere to be found. She’d half expected to find him sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee but that would have been a first. Despite the fact he’d promised to meet her for breakfast she assumed he was already out in the barn.
“Your daddy told me you’d like a big breakfast of eggs before you headed out.”
Figured. He’d given the orders but probably forgotten they were supposed to talk. She took the orange juice that Arlene offered and sighed.
“How’s he doing Arlene?”
“What? Oh, he’s fine sweetheart. Why do you ask?”
“Because it seems like everybody in town told me they hoped he was feeling better yesterday.” She frowned, “So I’m going to ask again, how is he?”
“Well, sweetie… I…” Arlene turned back to the pan on the stove, “I think you need to talk to your daddy about that.”
“So something is wrong.”
She knew it. She’d known it the minute she set eyes on him but she’d let him put her off when he said they could talk about it before she left on Sunday. Well now it was Sunday and he wasn’t at breakfast. She was sick of playing nice.
“Where is he?”
“What?” Arlene looked up after a long minute.
“Where is he? Is he already out in the barn? I’m not leaving without talking to him.”
“Oh, no… he uh, I think he’s still in bed sweetheart.”
“Bed?” Confusion beat hard against her frustration. Her father hadn’t slept past six am a single day of his life. She looked at the clock on the microwave. It was after eight. “What do you mean he’s still in bed?”