Texas Grit

by Barb Han

  “I’m sure that was a hard decision for her to make.” Dade’s gaze pierced her. There was so much compassion embedded deep behind the fortress he’d constructed.

  “Before she allowed our case workers to take us, she wanted to spend one last weekend together. Looking back, they didn’t have much money, so it must’ve cost a fortune for them to take us to the whale park in San Antonio. They’d bought a small RV, and we stayed in a nearby park. I just remember how hot it was outside, and then suddenly I didn’t care because I was watching this massive animal do all these amazing tricks. It was the most awe-inspiring thing I’d ever seen.”

  “She sounds like an amazing woman,” Dade offered with such sincerity Carrie nearly released all the pent-up emotion bottled up inside her.

  The couple didn’t have much and had planned to travel the country on a shoestring budget. Losing Grandma Millie had left a hole in Carrie’s heart that threated to swallow her. The next group home wasn’t so kind, and the others...

  Carrie didn’t want to go there, so she gripped the stuffed animal and walked outside to the trash. Her neighbor’s king-cab truck was gone, and she wondered where he went. He’d disappear for days on end, sometimes weeks. She opened the lid to the plastic container and dropped the orca inside. More unexpected tears sprang from her eyes, but she immediately wiped them away.

  Dade stood in her kitchen, sipping his coffee. Emotions roared through Carrie. Instead of analyzing them, she walked straight toward Dade, pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him. He stiffened for a split second before wrapping his arms around her waist. She threaded her fingers through his hair, and he deepened the kiss.

  His big frame corded again, and she almost thought she’d done something she was about to regret. And then his hands, rough but gentle, cupped her cheeks and he tilted her face to gain better access to her mouth. His full lips covered hers, and she leaned into his hard body. He was strong and brave and everything she wasn’t at the moment. His kiss was so tender, and yet so hungry, it robbed her of breath.

  She brought her hands up to his muscled chest and flattened her palms against him. She smoothed her fingers over the ridges of his pecs as he pressed his lips harder against hers. Her breath hitched when she looked up at him and saw so much hunger there, hunger that matched her own.

  Dade seemed to come to his senses first, pulling back just enough that if he spoke his lips would still brush against hers. She could feel his breath on her and taste him, a mix of peppermint and coffee.

  He’d done the right thing. The kiss was supposed to slap her back to reality, stop her from overthinking. But the heat that had been missing in every other kiss for her entire life had her mind churning even more.

  And the attraction that she knew better than to allow took deeper root.

  * * *

  DADE HAD WANTED to kiss Carrie from the moment he’d seen her again in the alley behind her shop. After hearing more about what had happened to her years ago...all he wanted to do was protect her. She’d lost so many people. Others had abused her. He’d tried to avoid listening to talk about the neglect she’d suffered after becoming a ward of the state. She’d needed him when she’d returned to Cattle Barge. He could see it in her eyes, even if she couldn’t admit it to him or herself. And what had he done?

  He’d been a typical teenager too caught up in his own issues to do what he should’ve done then...step up and protect her.

  Since then, his mind always circled back to that one time with her before she’d disappeared. They’d been in seventh grade, and he’d asked if she wanted to study together. He’d taken her to a popular hangout spot, the Barn. The two of them had been laughing and talking easily, and he’d liked the way he felt around her.

  Until his friends had shown up. One of his jock buddies, Todd, had stopped by.

  “What are you doing here with her? Shaylee tried to call your house earlier and invite you out with us tonight,” Todd had said.

  “Nothing,” Dade had said defensively. Then he’d motioned toward the stack of unopened books on the table. “Trying to make sure I pass Harris’s English class.”

  Todd had made some arrogant crack that Dade had laughed at before walking away.

  Dade would never forget the look in Carrie’s eyes.

  “I gotta go. Study. So I can pass and get out, away from the jerks in this town,” she’d said, pushing past him. Now he realized she’d been too strong to cry in front of him.

  She’d gotten away from him so fast that by the time he discerned just how much of a jerk he’d been and figured out a way to apologize, she was long gone. She’d been in such a hurry that she’d forgotten her books on the table. He’d tried to return them but she refused to see him after that day, so he’d stopped trying. He’d let her down in the worst way and still felt residual guilt because it wasn’t long after that a relative had claimed her. Then, she’d been abandoned and transferred to another home...the other home with the Bergers.

  She’d disappeared not long after. And he’d never had a chance to explain what he was struggling to understand for himself as a teen—his feelings.

  He’d never experienced that kind of intensity with anyone before. He’d been too young and dumb to know what to do with it. His lack of maturity had caused him to handle the whole situation wrong, and before he could make things right she’d been shuffled around again. She returned the summer before senior year and she’d grown into those long limbs. In fact, she was even more beautiful than she’d been before, and everyone seemed to notice, except her.

  Dade wasn’t making excuses for himself. Everyone thought life as a Butler was easy because his family had money. He had just as many hardships as the next guy. The Mav had worried all his money would make his sons soft. He’d come down hard on Dade and his brother, saying he was making men out of them.

  Dade, in turn, had signed up for the military the day he could enlist. Basic might’ve been hard for some, but not Dade. In more ways than one, it had been his salvation. He’d let go of the anger—or so he’d thought, until the Mav had tried to make amends. But he never really trusted anyone again except his brother and sisters. He’d constructed walls that made it difficult for anything or anyone to penetrate. The Butler kids had been forced to band together to survive their childhood with Maverick Mike.

  Dade knew one thing was certain. Thinking about the past never made it better, and it sure as hell didn’t change anything. Dade judged people by their present actions. He looked at Carrie, who was studying him curiously. Intelligent, beautiful Carrie.

  “Say something,” she said, and he could tell that, for once, she was having trouble reading him.

  He stood there, looking into her beautiful eyes. He fisted his hands to keep himself from reaching out to touch her silky skin.

  And then a little voice in the back of his head reminded him how much he’d regret not doing just that. Touching her. Kissing her. Oh, hell.

  Throwing common sense out the window, he stalked toward her, took her in his arms and kissed her again.

  She responded, tunneling her fingers into his hair and moving her sweet lips against his. All arguments imploded, and the world righted itself for just that one moment when she was in his arms.

  This time she pulled away first. Dade sure as hell couldn’t have done it.

  She blinked up at him, and he couldn’t read her. “Your job in the military train you to run toward danger?”

  “Yes. What does that have to do with you?”

  “I’ll hurt you, Dade. I won’t mean to, but I will.” She stepped away and turned her back to him.

  Whatever craziness was going on in her life didn’t matter this time. “You need to know that I have no plans to walk away from you until I’ve seen this through.”

  She rubbed her arms as though a chill had run up them, but it was hot outside.

  “Will you let me?�
�� he asked.

  There was no hesitation when she nodded.

  He spun her around, hauled her against his chest and kissed her again.

  And there was so much power in that one kiss he knew he had to figure out a way to help her without touching her again.

  Chapter Nine

  Carrie woke after a couple hours of sleep. Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she realized it was almost one o’clock in the afternoon. Panic gripped her that she’d somehow forgotten to open the store and then she remembered making the call to Harper earlier. Images of everything she’d worked so hard to build tumbling down the drain smacked her in the face. It was a sobering thought and one she didn’t want to give much energy to.

  Her movement woke Coco, who was curled up at the foot of the bed. She hopped down and Carrie immediately missed her warmth.

  There was a note propped up on the nightstand from Dade. She picked up the folded paper and turned the edges over with her fingers, thinking about the couple of kisses they’d shared before they’d come to their senses and put a little distance between them. He’d insisted on staying to make sure she was okay.

  “Call when you wake up,” the note read. She didn’t make calls before coffee if she could avoid it.

  Thoughts of last night at the sheriff’s office and of Brett’s murder stalked her, sitting like a heavy lump in her chest that made breathing almost impossible. At least Nash was gone.

  She pushed up on her arms, still in disbelief any of this could be happening.

  Maybe coffee could somehow wake her up from the nightmare of learning that someone she once cared about was gone. Brett. Her heart felt like it might burst out of her chest. He was so young, and she couldn’t even imagine how much pain he’d felt in those final few moments of his life.

  Carrie threw her legs over the side of the bed and walked into the adjacent bathroom to splash cold water on her face and brush her teeth.

  Her ringtone belted out from down the hall as she rinsed. Her heart stuttered, because her immediate thought had been that it was most likely Brett calling. But he wouldn’t be contacting her ever again. Carrie’s legs went rubbery, and she had to grip the wall with both hands to steady herself.

  Don’t look up. Don’t look down. Keep forging ahead and life will catch up. Mrs. Sanders’s words wound through Carrie’s thoughts. She must’ve just turned sixteen years old when she’d lived in her group home. The kind woman had been diagnosed with a rare bone cancer and had had to shut down her operation.

  Carrie’s heart lurched. The short time she’d lived with Mrs. Sanders had given her a chance to begin the healing process after that last brutal attack. The thought that Mrs. Sanders might be watching over Brett now offered some small measure of relief. Mrs. Sanders had a way of bringing hope to the hopeless. Brett might’ve turned out to be a jerk but Carrie didn’t wish him dead.

  Fighting against the onslaught of emotion building, threatening, Carrie got to her phone as the call rolled to voice mail. She didn’t recognize the number, which was probably just as well. She wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone anyway. Although based on the number of messages on her phone, quite a few people were trying to reach her. All from numbers she didn’t recognize as she thumbed through the log.

  There were dozens of unread messages from Brett, waiting. His last attempt to reach her had been less than an hour before his death. She still couldn’t grasp the thought that Brett was gone. Even though she knew it was true on some level, her mind wanted to argue against the fact. Somehow offer proof that this was all some kind of awful dream and she’d wake any minute to find that he was very much alive.

  She glanced at the spot on the counter where the stuffed orca had been, grateful it was gone. A text from Dade said that Ed had stopped by this morning with a deputy to pick it up even though there might not be any evidence on it. Dade had shown them where it was outside in the trash.

  Coco stood at the back door, whimpering.

  “Okay, sweet girl. I’ll let you out.” Coffee could wait another minute. And then she’d call Dade. Carrie unlocked and opened the back door.

  Coco hopped out but then spun around. Something on the ground had caught her attention. Carrie gasped, and her pulse skyrocketed. Hold on. It was probably nothing more than a cricket. She leaned forward and looked down, catching a glimpse of red. A single rose.

  Carrie’s heart pounded painfully against her ribs. She shooed Coco away from the wilted flower and bent over to pick it up. Then she remembered the fingerprints and froze. Could Brett have left it? No, that was impossible.

  Someone was messing with her. Anger ripped through her, and her skin flamed.

  Coco bolted toward her, causing Carrie to jump. She was on edge and needed to calm down. No, what she needed was a gallon of caffeine so she could think more clearly. She stared at the flower like it might come to life and attack her. There was no way she was picking it up.

  After her dog darted inside, she locked the door and stalked over to her phone. A mix of anger and frustration and helplessness—which made her even angrier—fueled her steps. The minute she gripped her cell, it rang. She jumped, dropped it and took a step back. Okay, now she was letting every little thing get to her.

  Glancing at the screen as she picked it up, she saw that the call was coming from an unknown source. Anger pulsed through her as she answered. Whoever was on the other end was about to get an earful. Before she could speak, a male voice cut her off.

  “Ms. Palmer?” the masculine voice asked. She didn’t recognize it.

  “Yes.” Impatience rolled off her in waves.

  “My name is Darion Jones and I’m with NewsNow! on the cable channel—”

  She ended the call before he could finish. How had the media gotten hold of her private cell phone number?

  News of Brett’s murder had to be out by now. She would think that the sheriff would want to keep an ongoing investigation as quiet as possible. Her employees would never give out her personal information to a stranger, especially not with everything going on. The only person who was capable of doing such a thing was Brett’s mother—he’d given his mother her number for emergencies, if she couldn’t reach Brett first.

  Carrie needed to have a conversation with Dade’s lawyer. Speaking of whom, she needed to call Dade. But a conversation before caffeine was a bad idea, and she also needed to figure out what to do with that rose.

  The first sip of coffee couldn’t make a dent in how exhausted she felt. She put a few ice cubes in a glass. They crackled as she poured the brown liquid over them. Iced coffee was quicker, and she drained the glass a minute later before pouring a second cup, warm this time. She had a feeling that she’d need all the extra energy she could get today.

  Equipped with a little more of her mental faculties, she called Dade. He answered on the first ring.

  “Everything okay?” was his first question.

  “What time did you leave my house?” She intentionally dodged his question. Things couldn’t be less okay.

  “Around nine o’clock,” he said. “Why?”

  “You didn’t happen to see anything suspicious at the back door, did you?” She got straight to the point. She and Dade had always been able to talk to each other. Well, up until things had changed between them in high school.

  “No. I let Coco out before I left and there wasn’t anything at the back door. Why? What did you find?” His concern was outlined in his rich, dark voice—a voice that wrapped around her and promised everything would be okay. But everything would not be all right. A man was dead. She was suspected of murder. And someone had decided this would be a good time to mess with her. Nash? Or someone else? Was there someone from her past who had come back to torment her?

  “What is it, Carrie?” There was so much concern in his tone. His voice was the calm in a raging storm, but she knew better than to allow the c
omfort. Nothing was okay. Nothing would be right again. This was Carrie’s life, history repeating itself. Any time she found something good to hold on to, it would slip out of her grip.

  “What if it was his mom? Or sister? Maybe he told them about it.” She gasped, thinking out loud.

  “Tell me what you’re talking about, Carrie. What did you find on your doorstep?” His strong male voice demanded an answer.

  “The rose.” The words coming out of her mouth sounded impossible even to her when she heard them spoken aloud.

  “You didn’t touch it, did you?” he asked.

  “No. But Coco started clawing at it,” she informed.

  “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

  “Okay.” The two exchanged goodbyes.

  Carrie double-checked the back door, making sure it was locked before pacing in the kitchen. She needed something to do, something to occupy her thoughts. She glanced into the laundry room and remembered the load of laundry that needed to be put away. First, she checked in with work. Her mind was too scattered to go over numbers or the details of orders but she got a high-level update from Harper. Her employee mentioned that reporters were showing up, asking questions.

  A few minutes later, a few deep breaths, and her nerves were beginning to settle with the busywork. All she had to do was wait until Dade got there, she thought as she pulled out the last item from the laundry basket, a pair of jogging shorts.

  But hold on a minute. Where was the sundress she’d worn a few days ago? She might be going crazy—and that was a very real possibility lately—but she could’ve sworn she’d washed it with her jogging shorts.

  She got up and bolted toward the closet to check. Not there. How about the clothes hamper? Her next stop was the master bathroom. The hamper had clothes from the last two days in it and nothing else.