Getting Lucky (A Nugget Romance Book 5)

by Stacy Finz

  Jake Stryker hung a U-turn on Main Street and flashed his lights. Twenty-one years with LAPD and he’d been reduced to issuing traffic citations. He laughed at the absurdity of it. But honestly, life had never been better. No smog, no traffic, no pissed-off ex-wives showing up on his doorstep, and no homicide scenes so bad that they drove him to the bottom of a bottle.

  He had a good job working for the Nugget Police Department and an even better boss. Rhys Shepard might be twenty years his junior, but the kid had a good head on his shoulders, treated Jake with respect, and was fair. And fun. The three-man department—four if you counted Connie, their dispatcher—played basketball together, took turns buying lunch, and laughed a lot. In a town like Nugget the crime wasn’t bad enough to make you lose your sense of humor. And that’s what Jake had been looking for when he’d been hired on to the small-town police force. That and being able to move full-time into his vacation cabin, where a river full of fresh fish and mountains covered in endless hiking trails were always at his disposal.

  Yep, he was living the dream, he thought as he pulled a brand-new Ram Laramie to the side of the road for doing thirty-five in a twenty-five-mile-per-hour business zone. As Jake approached the vehicle it only took him a few moments to realize that the driver was Cecilia’s boy. Lucky unrolled his window and handed Jake his license.

  “New truck?” Jake asked, and Lucky nodded. “You have trouble reading the speedometer?”

  “No, sir. I guess I’m still getting used to the pedals.”

  Jake laughed. The kid was a smart-ass, but he could appreciate a bit of flippancy every now and again. “You on your way to your mother’s?”

  “Yes, sir. I hear you’ve been hanging out there a fair amount yourself.”

  “That a problem for you?” Jake asked, peering at Lucky over his sunglasses.

  “I’m not sure yet. What exactly are your intentions?”

  Fair question. “Your mother is a lovely woman. We’re getting to know each other. It’s all very respectful, Lucky.”

  Lucky didn’t say anything, just held eye contact with Jake.

  “How’s the cowboy camp coming along?” Jake asked, looking for some neutral ground. “I hear you’ve got a crew up there today. Even working Saturdays, huh?”

  “Yep. You giving me a ticket?”

  “Nope. Just a warning this time. For the future, this is a twenty-five-mile-per-hour zone.”

  “Sorry,” Lucky said, and then out of the blue, “You got kids?”

  “Five.” Jake grinned. “All daughters. Sometimes they come up on weekends. You’ll have to meet ’em one day.”

  “How old?”

  “Sixteen, eighteen, twenty, twenty-one, and twenty-four. The oldest, Sarah, is in her second year of law school and Janny graduated from UCSB in June.”

  “Wow,” Lucky said. “You close with them?”

  “Those girls are my life. Tara, the baby, loves horses. Maybe the next time she’s up, I’ll bring her over to your place.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  Jake tapped the roof of Lucky’s truck. “All right then, take it easy in the city limits, you hear? And tell your mother hello for me.”

  Lucky started his engine and nosed out onto Main. He was a good son, Jake thought. Cecilia had raised him right. She was a fine woman and Jake enjoyed spending time with her. More than he ever thought possible, given his track record. There was a time when he’d played around and had lost three wives in the process. He figured it was a cop’s life. It took him a while to grasp that no, it was a lonely life.

  He started back for the station when Connie came over the radio.

  “Jake, we’ve got a 10-42 at the Wade place.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  It took him less than eight minutes to get there and maneuver around the ambulance blocking the narrow street. He didn’t bother knocking, just let himself in the house, where he found two paramedics standing over Katie Wade, who was lying on the couch.

  Tawny came up to Jake. “I think I might’ve overreacted. She was at the movies earlier and ate too much junk food. I freaked out when she started vomiting. I’m sorry.”

  “No worries.” He put his arm around her. “Better to be safe.” Jake nudged his head at one of the medics. “How’s she doing?”

  “No fever, no headaches, no shortness of breath. It’s up to you, Tawny. You want us to take her in?”

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said, and took Katie’s hand.

  “I’m okay, Mommy. Really, I feel fine.” Katie sat up. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

  Katie looked okay to Jake. Pale, but he’d seen her worse. The poor kid. “We could monitor the situation,” he told Tawny, and turned to the little girl. “And if you feel the slightest bit sick, you’ll tell your mom, won’t you, Katie Bug?”

  “I will, I promise.”

  Jake looked at Tawny.

  “All right,” she agreed, and the paramedics nodded.

  “We’re right down the street if you need us,” one of them said as he packed up to leave and carted his equipment out to the ambulance.

  “I feel stupid,” Tawny told Jake.

  “This is what we’re here for, Tawny. Nothing to feel stupid about.” Jake squeezed her shoulder and kept his eye on Katie, who’d gotten up to turn on the TV. He intended to observe her for a bit, even if she appeared to be fine. Well, as fine as a little girl with leukemia could be. “Hey, while I’m here I sure wouldn’t mind taking a look at some of those boots you’ve got. You want to help me pick some out, Katie?”

  Tawny’s daughter took Jake by the hand and walked him out to the studio, Tawny on their heels. Katie had plenty of pep in her step, nothing to indicate that she needed emergency care.

  “Which ones do you like?” Katie asked Jake as he wandered Tawny’s studio, perusing racks of boots. All kinds of boots—everything from classic cowhide to exotic skins.

  “Whoo-wee. I like them all. You got any in an eleven, Tawny?”

  “You like the skins?” She pulled down a couple of pairs from the shelf.

  “I love the skins.” He took the black ostrich ones and sat on a bench to try them on.

  “I like those,” Katie said, and her face seemed to take on a little color, which was good.

  “Wow, they’re comfortable.” He got up and walked across the room. It was as if they were molded to his feet. “What, someone forget to pick these up?”

  “No,” Tawny said, and smiled. “I was experimenting with the leather, which came from a different vendor than I typically use. I can sell them to you for a hundred bucks.”

  Jake looked at her. “I’d be lucky to get a pair of boots like this for six hundred.”

  “I’m having a special.”

  “What you’re doing is handing over the store.” He knew she was giving him preferential treatment. Over the last year he’d been the one to respond to most of the Katie calls. Knowing that Tawny was on her own, he’d become particularly paternal toward her. “You take a check?”

  “Mm-hmm. I know where you work.”

  “Walk me out to my rig, Katie Bug.” He wore the boots as they went to get his checkbook. Maybe he’d come back and get Cecilia a pair. When he found out her size.

  “They’re looking good, Jake.” Katie gave the boots a sideways glance.

  Jake chuckled. “Maybe when you grow up, you ought to go into sales.” When they got back inside the studio, he wrote Tawny a hefty amount. It wasn’t charity. Ordinarily a man on a cop’s salary could only dream of owning a pair of Tawny Wade boots. He was damned happy to have them.

  “Thank you,” Tawny said. “And Jake, thanks for taking such good care of us.”

  “Just doing my job. How you feeling now, Katie?”

  “I feel good.” The kid threw up her arms like she didn’t get what all the fuss was about. A little charmer, that girl.

  “I’m heading back to the station,” Jake said. “But you don’t hesitate to hit 911 if something come
s up, you hear?”

  “Believe you me, I won’t,” Tawny said.

  Chapter 4

  After dinner the following evening, Lucky came over. Tawny was in her studio working on Sam’s boots when Katie came barreling in.

  “That man from the other day is here again,” she said. “He brought me this.” Katie held up a doll.

  Katie had long ago traded in dolls for computer games, but Tawny had to admit that the gesture was impossibly sweet. She couldn’t picture big, bad, bull-riding Lucky walking through the doll aisle of a toy store, but it warmed her heart that he had. And made Tawny feel a pang of guilt for leaving Lucky out of Katie’s life for so long. Hey, she’d done what she thought was best for everyone at the time.

  “Did you say thank you?” Tawny asked her daughter.

  “Of course.” Because of the leukemia, Katie got lots of gifts. Donna and some of the other townswomen would show up with stuffed animals, slippers, and pajamas. Maddy Shepard, the police chief’s wife and co-owner of the Lumber Baron Inn, often brought her DVDs. Clay McCreedy got Katie her first bike, said it was too small for Cody, but it looked brand-new to Tawny. And pink. “He’s still here, though.”

  “Oh?” Tawny absently patted her hair. “Why didn’t you send him in?”

  “I will,” Katie said, and skipped off.

  A few moments later, Lucky’s large frame filled her workshop. “So this is where you make the boots, huh?” He had on faded jeans, a denim shirt, and a pair of ropers.

  She looked down at his boots and feigned outrage. “Ariats?”

  His lips tilted up. “They’re a sponsor. I get ’em for free. Besides, yours are too pretty for what I do.” He gazed around her shop. “Wow. You made all these?”

  “Yep. And a lot more.” Inexplicably, she wanted him to know her accomplishments, and pointed to the binders that held pictures of her work. Boots she’d made for the likes of Merle Haggard, Chris Isaak, Madison Bumgarner, and Tom Hanks.

  He popped one out and thumbed through the pages. “Hot damn, these are some fine boots. How much does a pair like this go for?” Lucky held up a picture of a pair she’d made for a Napa vintner, featuring dozens of hand-tooled grapes.

  “Three thousand,” she said, and he whistled.

  He strolled around the room, taking in the cutting tables and her industrial sewing machines. “How come you’re not rich?”

  “It took me seven months to make that vintner his boots. Everything is done by hand and I only use top-of-the-line materials.” She paused. “And with Katie’s illness, the business has had a lot of fits and starts. I can’t work a lot of the time.”

  “What do you do with all these?” He pointed at the rows of boots that lined the walls of her studio.

  “I sell them.”

  “Where are the twelves?”

  “Over there.” She showed him a rack by the door, and he made a beeline for it.

  She heard him take in a breath and watched as he removed the one pair of boots she didn’t want him to see. Tawny kicked herself for leaving them out.

  “I want these,” he said, and started to try them on.

  “They’re not for sale,” Tawny protested, walked over to him, and tried to pull them away.

  “Everything is for sale. Name your price. I’ve gotta have these.”

  She should’ve been thrilled. Instead, she felt incredibly uncomfortable. Embarrassed, to tell the truth. “Seriously, Lucky, they’re not for sale.”

  “Why the hell not? These boots were meant for me.” With his finger, he outlined the inlay silhouettes of a bull rider, the Sierra looming in the background. “It’s like you had me in mind when you made them.”

  She turned away so he wouldn’t see her face. “They’re someone else’s.” There were a lot of bull riders in Nugget. Feather River College had one of the top rodeo teams in the West Coast region. So what if they weren’t world champions like Lucky? “He’s already paid in full and owns the design. I’m sure you can find another pair you like as much. Or you could always commission your own design.”

  “Who purchased these?” Lucky wanted to know. “I’ll buy them off him. Any price.”

  “I’ll ask him if he wants to sell them to you, Lucky. But I wouldn’t count on it.” She faced him now. “I’m guessing you didn’t come over here to buy boots. What’s up?”

  “I came to bring Katie the doll. And I brought a paternity kit. It’s in my truck.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I suppose you want to do the swab yourself to make sure it’s on the up-and-up.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind, not that I don’t trust you.” He flashed a factitious smile.

  “How about I do it while you watch? That way I can tell her it’s another one of her medical tests.” Katie had had so many over the last four years she wouldn’t know the difference.

  “That works. Should I go get the kit?”

  Tawny looked at the time. “Her show’s on right now. It’ll be over in twenty minutes. Then she’ll get ready for bed. I’ll do it then, if you don’t mind?”

  “Nope.” He wandered around her studio a little more. “Did this used to be a garage?”

  “Yeah. My dad used to fix his clients’ clocks in here. In winter he’d bring in a space heater. Before he died, he installed forced-air heating for me.”

  “I hadn’t heard that he died. I’m sorry, Tawny.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad he’s no longer suffering.”

  “You didn’t really have any help with Katie, then, did you?”

  “He died when she was two. But while he was alive he did what he could.”

  Lucky sat in the chair Tawny used to trace clients’ feet. “Didn’t he want to know who Katie’s father was?”

  Tawny hesitated, not wanting to rehash the past. It was done. “I told him he was a ranch hand passing through. That I didn’t know anything about him.”

  “Jeez. Was he angry?”

  “He wasn’t happy. But eventually he came to accept my pregnancy and felt blessed to have Katie.”

  “My mother could’ve helped you, you know? . . . I would’ve come back.”

  “We’ve been over this, Lucky. I can’t change the past.” She put away her supplies and cleaned the table where she’d been working. “Why’d you come back anyway? You could’ve opened your dude ranch anywhere.”

  “It’s a cowboy camp,” he muttered, and Tawny stifled a laugh.

  The whole town joked that Lucky Rodriguez thought a cowboy camp sounded more manly than a dude ranch. Supposedly, according to rumor, he hoped to attract corporations looking to team build. Sam told Tawny that Lucky had also worked out a deal with the Lumber Baron to hold country weddings and events on the property. Once he got it fixed up the way he wanted, Tawny thought the place would be beautiful for parties. Especially the lodge. The little she’d seen of the building had impressed her.

  “It’s my hometown,” he continued. “Why wouldn’t I come back? Plus, my mother lives here.”

  Tawny shrugged. “I just thought that with the Rosser ordeal, you’d want to put this place in your rearview mirror forever.” That night, Lucky had confided the whole thing to her. Not because they were close, but because she was there. Convenient. The incident had shaken him. Although he hadn’t admitted as much, she knew he’d been afraid of being arrested . . . of his mother losing her job.

  “Nah.” He waved her off. “Water under the bridge.”

  Water under the bridge. Even though it had happened a decade ago, it was more than water under the bridge. At least to Tawny. The worst part in her mind was that Raylene hadn’t protected Lucky. If Raylene had spoken up, Lucky wouldn’t have had to slink out of town the way he had.

  She wanted to ask him if there was someone special in his life now, but held her tongue, not wanting to give him the impression that she was interested. Because she wasn’t. Even if he did look like God’s gift to women with those broad shoulders, big brown eyes, sexy five o’clock shadow, and enough cowbo
y charm to fill the Grand Canyon. Lucky Rodriguez had always been her girlhood fantasy. Back then, just a smile from him could make the sun come out on a rainy day. But she’d never been in his league and never would be—especially now that he was a famous athlete.

  “How does Katie do in school?” he asked, making it transparent that he’d come for more than his requisite paternity test. Lucky was obviously burning with curiosity about Katie.

  “Good, when she’s able to go. I thought about holding her back a year because she missed so much, but her teachers thought she’d be able to handle the fourth grade.”

  “The fourth grade, huh?” He grinned. “She’s a pretty little girl. Looks a lot like you.”

  “Hopefully not the way I looked in the fourth grade.”

  Lucky laughed. “Damn, you were scrawny.” Tawny was surprised that he even remembered.

  Lucky grew somber. “What if I’m not a match for the cell transplant?”

  She let out a sigh, a sigh that said I can’t bear to think about that. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  He nodded, presumably getting the fact that she had to focus on the positive. If she didn’t, she’d go crazy.

  “You think she liked the doll?” Lucky asked. “I didn’t know what to get her.”

  “I’m sure she loved it. It was nice of you.”

  “When she finds out the truth, will she think I’m a louse?”

  “No,” Tawny said. This time the guilt was more than a pang. “That distinction will be reserved for me.” She glanced at her watch again. “I should get back inside.”

  “I’ll get the kit.” Lucky made for the door. “I want to get the results back as soon as possible.”

  A week later Lucky got the call. He phoned Tawny, who raced over to the ranch for an impromptu meeting.

  “When will we tell her?” He sat on the new retaining wall, watching Tawny swing her legs back and forth. He figured she was nervous. She had nice legs, he’d give her that.

  Except for the green cat-eyes, Tawny no longer resembled the Thelma Wade he remembered. Still on the petite side, her body had filled out in all the right places. The woman had breasts now and a curvy bottom. Her hair, once a drab bowl cut, was long and shiny brown.