Texas Roses (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series)

by Samantha Christy

  She squirms in her seat. “You sure you’re up for it with your ribs and all?”

  “I don’t feel pain when I’m with you.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  I hold out my hand, and she takes it. I don’t let go until we reach our destination.

  After we get our supplies and check into the hotel, we ride up the elevator with a couple and their baby. The kid seems about Josie’s age, and it makes me wonder what Sophie and Josie are doing. When we exit, I ask, “Do you think Sophie thought to move the baby monitor into the guest room?”

  “Probably. She’s pretty good.”

  “What about that sleep blanket thing? Sophie’s never been there at night. We should have told her to use it. Josie sleeps better that way.”

  Amber touches my arm. “Would it make you feel better if we called to check on them?”

  I shrug. “I don’t need to check on them. But I guess it couldn’t hurt, you know, just to make sure the house didn’t burn down.”

  Amber’s smile is huge. I don’t know why the hell she seems so happy all of a sudden. Then again, I’m pretty happy myself. I’m about to lick a whole bunch of dessert off the most gorgeous woman I know.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Amber

  Quinn’s had to take it easy for the past few weeks on account of his bruised or broken ribs. He can still fly but can’t do much in the way of manual labor around the ranch. And I can’t be sure, but I think Josie likes having him around.

  Her early morning cries echo through the baby monitor. I roll over, tired from my meeting that ran late with a new client in Hawaii. I reach over and poke Quinn. “Can you get her?”

  “It’s your turn.”

  “I know, but I was up so late. I promise I’ll do the next two mornings.”

  “Fine.” He leans over and kisses my cheek.

  I lie in bed but don’t fall back asleep. I listen to Quinn through the monitor as he talks to Josie while he changes her.

  “Morning, Jojo,” he says.

  I smile lazily. He has a nickname for her.

  “What can I do to get you to sleep past six thirty?” he says. “How about I make you a deal? Sleep until eight tomorrow, and I’ll give you a thousand dollars.” He chuckles to himself. “No? Okay, how about this—you sleep until eight, and I’ll play the stupid game Sophie plays with you. Does that sound good? Pull my finger if it’s a yes.”

  I giggle into my pillow. They leave Josie’s room, and I can’t hear him anymore. I roll back over and pull his pillow close. I love the smell of him. Waking up to Quinn every morning isn’t something I ever thought I’d want. But the more I do it, the deeper the craving.

  I can’t stay here forever; we both know it. My home is in Calloway Creek. But neither of us has mentioned it in weeks. It’s probably just as well. This—what we have here—can’t last forever. Nothing does.

  My phone pings. I recognize the tone. It’s a banking alert to notify me of a deposit. I open my account and smile. A fat check just went in for matching Michael with the executive VP position last month. I’ve been doing this a while now, but this was by far my largest commission. I could pay my mortgage for months just with this one deposit.

  It makes me think about Quinn and his trust fund. Does he really have fifteen million dollars? What does one even do with that much money? Especially someone who lives rent free on a ranch and drives a truck given to him by his estranged mother. The interest alone must be staggering. If Josie is his daughter, she’ll be set for life. But how much of that life will Quinn be a part of?

  Not able to fall back asleep, I grab my phone and go in search of coffee. I pad out into the living room but stop in my tracks when I see Quinn and Josie on the couch. His back is to me, and she’s been propped in the corner with pillows. He covers his eyes with his hands, removes them quickly, and says, “Peek-a-boo!” I try not to laugh and ruin the moment. I’ve never seen him like this before. He does it again, only with a silly voice this time.

  Then my heart does a double backflip. Because Josie smiles.

  “Oh, shit,” he says. “Did you just—”

  I race over. “She smiled. Oh my god, Quinn. You made her smile. Do it again.”

  “You were watching us?”

  I shrug. “You were having a moment. I didn’t want to interrupt. Now do it again.”

  “It’s stupid,” he says.

  “Will you just do it, Quinn?”

  He looks at Josie, and I swear she’s waiting for him to make her smile again. “Women,” he says in exasperation. Then he covers and uncovers his eyes. “Peek-a-boo!” He turns to me. “Must have been a fluke. She won’t do it now.”

  “Try again. Use the voice.”

  “You use the voice.”

  “She smiled at you for the first time in her life. You. Now do it again, or I won’t let you go down on me for a week.”

  Immediately, he does it. Emphatically and with lots of silliness.

  And she smiles.

  “She did it,” he says. “Jojo, you smiled!”

  I’m staring. Only it’s not her smile I’m staring at. It’s his. I snap a quick photo with my phone, because regardless of how everything turns out, this moment needs to be remembered.

  Quinn strolls into the kitchen. I’m chatting with Sophie after a long morning of meetings, and Josie is sleeping in the pack-and-play. He looks in the fridge but doesn’t pull anything out. He fishes through some mail. He opens and closes some cabinets. I try not to laugh. The man is bored. “Something on your mind, cowboy?”

  “I’m tired of feeling useless.”

  “You’re not useless. You’ve flown at least three days this week.”

  He looks longingly out the window. “It’s not the same. I want to get back on a horse. Want to go riding with me?”

  “You think that’s wise?”

  He pounds his side. “The ribs are healing. I’m going stir-crazy.”

  I shrug. “Sure. I’ll ride with you.”

  “Sophie,” he says. “Same deal this Friday night?”

  “You don’t have to pay me five hundred dollars every time you want me to stay over with her.”

  “I’m only trying to help you out. You won’t have this job much longer.”

  “Fine. But just this once, and only because I need to pad my bank account. Who knows how long it will be before I find another family.” She gazes at Josie. “I’m going to miss her. And you’re like the best bosses ever. Is it selfish of me to wish she turns out to be yours?”

  I don’t tell her I ask myself that same question every day.

  Quinn ignores her comment. He’s gotten good at side-stepping any talk of paternity. And he checks the DHR mailbox obsessively. Lately, I’ve found him quite literally waiting for the mailman to deliver the mail.

  We leave for the stables. Maddox storms out of the office entrance. He sees us coming. “Fucking Jon. Already up to his old ways.”

  “What’s he done now?” Quinn asks.

  “He’s messing with our suppliers again. Does the man have nothing better to do than make my life complicated?”

  “Let me take care of it.”

  Maddox kicks dirt. “I don’t want anyone confronting him. Could make things worse. I’ll deal with it and hope he gets bored eventually.”

  “Why do you think he’s going through the trouble?” I ask. “From what I’ve learned about the Thompsons, with Joel gone, it doesn’t seem like Jon would be in the market to buy the ranch.”

  “He doesn’t want to buy it,” Quinn says. “He just wants to fuck with us. Somehow, in his mind, he’s made it everyone’s fault but his that he went to prison.” He pats his ribs. “With these things sidetracking me, I may do a little investigating. See what he’s up to.”

  “Don’t get yourself into trouble,” Maddox says.

  “Nah. I’ll just follow him and do some digging.” He thumbs to the stable. “Amber and I are going riding. We’ll catch you later.”

  M
addox walks off. I cross my arms. “You just can’t stay away from danger, can you? If you’re not flying, you’re breaking your ribs at the rodeo, and now you want to spy on your uncle?”

  “Relax. I only want to find out what he’s planning and be one step ahead of him.”

  “And you can do that just by watching him?”

  He shrugs. “I know some people. Jon has a lot of enemies in this town. Folks who wouldn’t think twice about giving me any dirt.”

  “I thought you said most people hate you too. Why would they help you?”

  “Because ruining my uncle would end my grandfather’s reign, that’s why.”

  “And what would make anyone think you’re not plotting to take over his empire?”

  He laughs, then winces. He’s not nearly healed. “You watch too much television.”

  We tack up the horses—I know how to do it myself now—then we head out. When he leads his horse toward a difficult trail, I cut him off. “We’re going this way,” I say.

  “Amber, I’m fine.”

  “If laughing causes you pain, you’re far from fine. We’re taking the easy trail.”

  “You think you’re the boss of me?” he says with a smirk.

  “I just want my man in one piece, is all. So sue me.”

  “Your man, huh? I like the sound of that.” We ride out, taking it slow. “Speaking of me being your man, I was wondering if you’d be up to ditching the rubbers. I mean, we’re only sleeping with each other now.” He shakes his head as if it’s a novel thought. “We could drive into town, get blood tests or whatever.” His heated stare permeates me. “And damn, it sure would be nice to feel every inch of you without a raincoat.”

  “I think that can be arranged. Go ahead and set it up.”

  He grins. “As soon as we get home.”

  Home. It’s strange how a place that doesn’t belong to either of us has taken on such a meaning.

  Quinn’s phone rings. “It’s the lawyer. I have to take this.” We bring the horses to a stop. “Hey, Ms. Nessman. I didn’t expect to hear from you.” He listens. “Yes, ma’am, I have a minute. Do you mind if I put you on speaker? My girlfriend is here, and I don’t want to have to repeat everything later.” He taps the speaker button on his phone.

  “As I was saying, I wanted to talk to you about something. A few weeks ago, you sent over the legal papers Ms. Minchion gave you. I know we said we’d wait to talk until your results come back, but something caught my eye.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “If you claim not to be the father, why is your name on the child’s birth certificate?”

  “Because Michelle put it there.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “How so?”

  “In order to have your name listed on the birth certificate, you each have to be there in person and show proper identification. If a parent doesn’t show up in person, they can submit a notarized document, but again, you would have had to appear before a notary and provide identification.”

  “What the hell? But I didn’t even know about Josie until last month. I sure as shit didn’t show up in person, and I didn’t sign anything.”

  “Then we’re looking at fraud committed by Ms. Minchion. Do you have any reason to believe she’s in possession of your passport, driver’s license, or state ID?”

  “No. Why would she be?” His face goes ashen. “Oh, crap.”

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “My wallet went missing.”

  “When?” the lawyer asks.

  He looks to the sky and runs a hand through his hair. “About two fucking months ago. Pardon my French. I was at a bar, and I’d been drinking. I thought I lost it. Canceled my credit cards and got a new license.”

  “Was Ms. Minchion there?”

  “No, she wasn’t there. She would have been super pregnant.”

  “Can you remember the exact date?” she asks.

  “It was the weekend before Aaron’s wedding, so late April maybe.”

  “Josie was born on April twenty-fifth,” I say. “She could have had her and then devised a plan to have someone steal your wallet.”

  “I’m going to kill her,” Quinn says.

  “When are the paternity results expected?” the lawyer asks.

  “Any day now.”

  “Then don’t do anything quite yet. Let’s see what we’re up against here. If you’re not the father, we can sue to have your name removed from the birth certificate, and she’ll most likely be brought up on charges for falsifying government documents. If you are the child’s father, fraud or no, it’ll be a moot point, and we’ll have other things to deal with.”

  “So you’re saying Josie’s mother isn’t only a deadbeat mom, but also a criminal.”

  “People do desperate things in desperate times, Mr. Thompson. We’ll talk more once you have the results.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” Quinn says and puts away his phone. He looks pissed.

  “There’s nothing you can do about it now,” I say.

  He turns his horse back toward the stable. “I can go check the goddamn mailbox. That bitch is going down.”

  “Quinn?”

  He stops.

  “If she goes down, who will take care of Josie?”

  He doesn’t answer. He just shakes his head and trots off.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Quinn

  For three days, I’ve followed Jon. I’ve made it my full-time job when I’m not needed on the chopper. And as far as I can tell, he doesn’t do squat. Sleeps until noon. Meets his cronies for a late lunch at one of the restaurants he and Mom inherited from my grandfather. Goes to a pool hall. Meets more shady-looking characters at Mom’s guest house, where he’s evidently sleeping for now. Gets take-out somewhere. Goes to bars and leaves with random women.

  I crawl into bed at three o’clock in the morning. Amber snuggles next to me. “How long are you going to keep this up?”

  “Until I’m satisfied he won’t hurt the people I love.”

  She stiffens. Is she wondering if she’s one of those people? I haven’t said it. I want to. But deep down, I know she’s not ready to hear it.

  “Sleep,” she mumbles. “I’ll get up with Josie.”

  “I’ll do it,” I say. “You did it two days in a row.”

  “Mm.” She falls back to sleep and rolls off me.

  Josie stirs, so I get out of bed and walk quietly into her room. The people I love. The words roll around in my head as I watch her. I contemplate that God made babies cute so people are drawn to them. I mean, why else would we put up with wiping up another human’s shit, and getting up at all hours of the night? Unless you’re Michelle, in which case, you dump said shit on someone else.

  I stand in the doorway until she settles down. She’s getting better at soothing herself and has even slept all the way until morning most nights this week. I go back to bed, but I don’t sleep. I think about what Amber said the other day. Michelle will be brought up on charges. What will happen to Josie? Will she grow up in foster care? Get adopted? I wonder if my being wealthy can help her. Can I pay an agency to make sure she gets placed with a good family? Will they do background and medical checkups on them to verify they aren’t sick and just don’t know it, like Amber’s mom was?

  It’s not your problem, I tell myself. Or it won’t be as soon as the results arrive. But I’m restless the rest of the night. Because I know I don’t believe it.

  I come home for a late lunch after another reconnaissance mission. No more of that today; I have a group to take up in the chopper later this afternoon.

  Sophie and Josie are playing on the living room floor. Sophie is convinced Josie will roll over soon. I watch, silently cheering her on, when there’s a knock on the door. Amber comes out of the bedroom, and we stare at each other, knowing anybody we know would have just walked in. I go on high alert thinking it might be Jon. He’s stupid enough to violate the restraining order.

  Amber goes fo
r the door before I can stop her. Thankfully, it’s not Jon. Amber jumps into Tag’s arms. She squeals, “What are you doing here?”

  “Are you kidding? I had to come see this for myself after all the pictures you’ve sent.” He looks around her. “Is that her?”

  “That’s Josie,” Amber says, smiling almost like a proud mom.

  Sophie stands, and it’s as if Tag forgets all about Josie. He grins wryly and holds out his hand. “Tag Calloway.”

  “Oh, no.” Amber pushes him out the door. I hop up and follow, closing it behind me. “You are not screwing the nanny,” she says.

  Tag laughs and lifts his chin at me. “You already beat me to it?”

  Amber pouts. “Nobody is screwing the nanny.”

  “Way to rain on my parade, Black.”

  “Why are you really here?” she asks. “It’s not like you to want to be around a baby.”

  “You got me. Truth be told, I’d rather face the plague.” He shivers in mock disgust. “I have a meeting with a board of directors in Dallas tomorrow.”

  “Cowboys?” I ask.

  “Nah. Small college team. But as long as I was in the neighborhood, I figured I’d stop by for the day.”

  Amber opens the door. “Well, you have to at least meet her.”

  Introductions are made, and although Tag still looks like he wants to eat Sophie alive, Sophie’s full attention is on Josie.

  While Sophie fixes a bottle, Tag sits on the couch sipping lemonade, staring at Amber and the baby. “You look like a goddamn mom,” he says.

  “I’m a woman holding a baby, Tag. It hardly makes me a mother.”

  Amber blows raspberries on Josie’s cheek.

  “You act like one too,” he says, raising a brow.

  “She’s pretty incredible, don’t you think? She’s smiling now, and she’s going to roll over any day, aren’t you sweetie? And, oh my gosh, she loves the horses. I mean, I’m not even sure she can see very far, but I swear whenever I take her in the stable, her face lights up.”