by Stacy Finz
Lucky had a hard time watching the catheter inserted into his daughter’s small chest. For weeks Katie would be under close medical supervision. And even then they wouldn’t know whether the transplant took. The doctors said it could take as long as a year for blood counts to become normal and her immune system to work right.
As he watched a nurse attach one of the packets of his stem cells to Katie’s IV, Lucky felt profoundly responsible. This all came down to him. Could he save his little girl?
Dr. Laurence came in the room as the infusion started. “How’s everyone doing?”
“Good,” Katie said, and smiled so brightly from her hospital bed that it made Lucky tear up. The kid had been through so much and still acted like a trooper.
“Would you like a piece of cake, Dr. Laurence?” Cecilia asked. His mother would feed the world if she could.
“No, thanks,” he said. “I just grabbed breakfast.”
“How you doing, Lucky?” The doctor gave him an appraising look.
“A little sore, like muscle cramps. I’m sure it’ll go away soon.”
“I’ll have the nurse give you some calcium supplements,” Laurence said.
“All right.” Lucky nodded. “I’ll be going into training mode, so I’m guessing the calcium will be good for that too.”
“Training mode?” Laurence looked at him quizzically. “What do bull riders do for that?”
“Cardio, strength training, like any other athlete.”
“I suggest you wait a few weeks,” the doctor said. “Your body needs time to recover from the meds and the procedure itself.”
“Afraid I don’t have the time,” Lucky responded. “The world finals are right before Christmas.”
“Lucky,” Dr. Laurence said, “it’s inadvisable that you climb onto the back of a bull this soon.”
“Why?” Lucky asked while everyone in the room went silent. The general consensus was that it was inadvisable to get on the back of a bull, period.
“You’ll be weak and your body won’t function the way you’re used to it functioning. Bull riding is dangerous enough without having thoroughly healed from a rigorous medical procedure like this. Look, I can’t stop you, but I strongly urge you to sit this one out.”
Sit this one out? This would be his last hurrah. After the spill he’d taken in Billings, he’d been fortunate to qualify at all. Since his place had become crime central, he needed the good publicity of a win to get his cowboy camp back on track. If he dropped out of the finals, he wouldn’t have the legacy—longest reigning champ in PBR history—that he wanted. Needed.
“Thanks, Doc. I’ll think about it.”
Tawny sent him a dark look, and if it wasn’t for the fact that no one wanted to upset Katie, his mother would’ve been all over him too. But this was something he had to do. He’d just tough it out like he always did. What was the worst that could happen to him?
Chapter 22
It felt like forever since Tawny had slept in her own bed. They’d spent three weeks in Palo Alto and now she and Katie bunked at Cecilia’s house.
So far there had been no complications. Dr. Laurence worried about infection, and for that reason had kept Katie on antibiotics. Her red- and white-cell and platelet numbers were down, but that was par for the course. They continued to watch for pneumonia and kidney and liver malfunctions. But the biggest worry of all was whether Katie’s new cells would attack her body instead of getting her better. That’s why she had to be monitored closely. Once a week they had to return to Stanford for checkups. Clay, who owned several planes, had volunteered to take them back and forth so Katie wouldn’t have to withstand the long travel time in a car. Normally, Tawny wouldn’t accept such a generous offer. But in this case she did it for Katie.
Against the doctor’s wishes, Lucky had started a rigorous exercise program. Back at the Four Seasons he’d spent two to three hours a day in the gym on the elliptical, treadmill, and weights. A bull rider needed a lot of upper-body strength.
But the workouts seemed to be doing more harm than good. He was exhausted, and Tawny was convinced that he was anemic. A bull rider friend of his had suggested that he try yoga and Pilates. At first he’d resisted.
“No self-respecting cowboy does chick exercises,” he’d said.
Then he found out that half the guys in the PBR were adding “chick” exercises to their workout regimes. That and martial arts. Lucky had hired Pam, owner of the Nugget yoga and dance studio, to train him. And while the program she’d mapped out for him was demanding, it seemed to be less taxing than his old plan.
Besides changing his workouts, they’d stopped having sex. His stamina for that was just fine, but they obviously couldn’t continue under Cecilia’s roof.
On the nights Katie had been in the hospital recovering from the transplant, Tawny and Lucky had stayed in the suite in the same bed, making love. She’d like to think that it had been a way for her to work off the stress of the transplant and find a modicum of comfort while constantly worrying over Katie’s health. But she’d be lying. The truth was, Tawny was falling deeper and deeper in love with Lucky.
Unfortunately, he was the ultimate cowboy, never talking about his feelings for her—if he even had any—or where the two of them might be headed relationship-wise. All she knew was that he liked sleeping with her.
And there was no guarantee that Lucky had completely gotten over Raylene. He might’ve gone cold turkey for now. But for Lucky she was a hard habit to break. And Raylene wouldn’t let him go that easily. Tawny suspected that she still texted him. His phone would ping, he’d look at it, shake his head, and tuck the cell away in his pocket. Then again, for all Tawny knew, it was someone else from his bevy of buckle beauties.
She tried not to get jealous, since she had no hold on him.
Noah frequently came to the house. The transplant had become a big part of his story, especially the fact that the doctor had told Lucky not to ride and he planned to do it anyway. Today, he’d come by as she was leaving for her studio.
For much of the morning she tried to get caught up on orders. Around two, she heard a noise and went to investigate. Lucky stood up against the backyard fence, trying to catch his breath.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, fearing that it was more than the rigorous exercise routine. “Were you over at your mom’s? Is it Katie?”
Lucky held up his hand. “No, nothing like that. I saw Raylene today.”
Her heart stopped. Looked like today was the day Lucky fell off the wagon. Deep down inside, Tawny knew it was coming. “Oh,” was all she said.
“Can we go in the house or the studio?”
She led him into the studio. It was closer and she wanted to get this over with.
Lucky gazed at her cutting table, where she’d been tracing a knife and fork out of leather. “Brady’s boots, huh?”
“Yep.” Ever since they’d gotten back, Brady had been bringing dishes to Cecilia’s house.
“I thought you were backed up on your paying jobs.”
Not that it was any of his concern, but she tilted her head at the project and said, “This is what I do when I’m taking a break. So you and Raylene are back together?” She shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans because they had started to tremble.
“Can I have a drink of water?” The truth was, Lucky didn’t look so good. Pale.
“I’ll get it for you. Sit.” She wheeled her work chair his way and pushed his shoulders down until he sat. “I’ll be right back.”
Tawny went inside the house and filled a tall glass with ice and water and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen on her way out. He’d been popping the pills like they were mints. The man was crazy to attempt riding in the finals. All she had to do was look at him to know that he shouldn’t be exerting himself this way.
“Here.” She handed him the glass and watched him down the water in a few big gulps. “You want more?”
“I’m good.” He put the glass on her table. “Sh
e’s beyond pissed at me.”
Clearly he meant Raylene. “Why, because you left her to take care of your daughter?” Tawny couldn’t control the contempt in her voice.
“Because she knows I’m sleeping with you.”
Tawny let out a sour laugh. “I can imagine. Me being ugly Thelma Wade. Why are you sleeping with me, anyway? Convenience?”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “There’s nothing about you that’s convenient, Tawny.”
He motioned to the bench next to him. “Sit down for second.” And she knew it was coming. Lucky was back with Raylene.
“Ray and Raylene are telling the police, and anyone who will listen, that I lured Ray to my ranch so that Gus Clamper could kill him—that it was a murder-for-hire until Ray got the drop on Gus. They claim they have proof.”
Tawny gasped. “My God. What proof could they possibly have?”
“I have no idea, but Ray’s a wily coyote. I wouldn’t put anything past the sumbitch.”
“But not Raylene?” Tawny huffed.
“Raylene isn’t smart enough to fabricate evidence. She just goes along with whatever Ray tells her.” Like ten years ago, but Tawny didn’t say it. “I’ll weather this, but I don’t want it upsetting Katie . . . or my mom.”
“How will you weather something like this? If he really can show proof, you could be in a lot of trouble, Lucky.”
He looked at her funny. “You’re not buying into this murder-for-hire bullshit, are you?”
“Of course not. But you yourself said Ray is wily, not to mention that he has a lot of influence in these parts.”
“I’m not exactly a nobody.”
She supposed that was true, but it didn’t stop her from being scared for him. “How does Raylene feed into this?”
“She’s blabbing it all over town, including to Noah.”
Tawny blew out a breath. “Oh boy. Have you talked to Jake?”
“No. It’s awkward, given his situation with my mother.”
“What about Rhys?”
“Nah. I think I’ll talk to Clay first.”
“Why Clay? He’s not in law enforcement.”
“No, but he’s Rhys’s best friend. Besides, he knows me. He knows I wouldn’t do anything like that and he knows Ray Rosser and what a hothead he is, especially when it comes to his cattle. I trust the guy.”
“Okay.” Tawny didn’t think talking to Clay could hurt. The McCreedys had even more influence in these mountains than the Rossers. “You want me to come with you?”
He tilted his head sideways and looked at her, a little smile playing on his lips. “I’ve got it, but thanks.”
“Whatever.” All she’d wanted to do was stand up for him. “Just trying to be a friend.”
“Is that what we are, Tawny? Friends?”
She purposely didn’t answer. “What’ll you do about the finals?”
“What I always intended to do. Win.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and headed for the door. “Don’t work too hard.” He let his gaze drift back to the pieces of Brady’s boots. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Not if he got arrested.
As soon as she heard Lucky pull away in his truck, Tawny put on her new coat, got in her Jeep, and drove to the police station. If he wouldn’t talk to Jake, she would. At the square she found parking right in front of the department’s old-timey stucco building and heard the bells jingle when she opened the door.
Connie sat at the front of the office, wearing a cordless headset. “Hey, Tawny. How’s that little girl of yours?”
“She’s doing well. Thanks for asking. Is Jake around?”
“He’s in the chief’s office. I’ll get him for you.” Connie got up and walked to the back of the room.
Tawny had only been in the station a couple of times. There was a big map of Nugget on the wall and an FBI fugitive poster. The rest of the office was bland—just messy desks and an alcove with a refrigerator, sink, and coffeemaker.
A few seconds later, Jake, followed by Rhys, came out of a small glass office and waved to her.
Rhys gave her a warm smile. “How’s Katie making out? I think Maddy went by Cecilia’s today.”
“So far, really well. Better than we expected. I must’ve missed Maddy while I was at my studio.” He nodded, clearly curious about why she was here.
“Jake, you have a few minutes?” She wanted to talk to him in private. It was bad enough she’d gone behind Lucky’s back. She didn’t want to announce the Rossers’ allegations to the entire police department.
“For you I do,” Jake said, and took her hand. “Let’s go into the conference room.”
Jake led her into a room with a long table and a few chairs. She sat and Jake grabbed a chair across from her. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Tawny frowned. “Ray and Raylene are telling everyone that Lucky lured Ray to his ranch on the day of the shooting. They’re saying that Lucky hired Gus to kill Ray.”
“I know,” Jake said.
Tawny waited for him to say more and when he didn’t, she added, “They’re telling everyone they have proof. How could they, when Lucky didn’t do that?”
“Are you sure?” Jake asked, and she flinched.
“Of course I am. Lucky would never do anything like that. You’re not saying that you believe them, Jake?”
“As a cop I have to keep an open mind,” Jake said. “I’m also in a compromised position here.”
“Because of Cecilia, you mean?”
“Yes. Officially, I can’t talk about the case with you, unless of course you have some pertinent information.” He waited with his arms crossed.
“No . . . only that I know he didn’t do it and he needs your help.”
Jake sighed. “You hire a lawyer for this kind of help, Tawny. You should tell him that.”
“He actually needs a lawyer? The Rossers are lying, Jake.”
“And a good attorney will help him sort that out.”
“Do you know what kind of evidence they have against Lucky?”
Jake didn’t answer. Just sat there with his arms still folded.
“My God, you do,” she said, realizing this was even worse than she thought. “And you think it’s damning.”
“Have him call his agent,” Jake said. “Pete will know a good lawyer. Ray’s already got the best one here.”
Tawny couldn’t believe her ears. “Does Cecilia know?”
Again, Jake didn’t answer. The man had suddenly closed up tighter than Raylene’s jeans. In Palo Alto, they’d been like a family. Now he was all business. This would kill Cecilia. Tawny needed to tell her before she heard it from someone else. Then Tawny would call Pete.
“Thanks for your help, Detective.” She got to her feet, tucked her chair in, and left.
By the time she got to Cecilia’s, Lucky was already there. From the pall over the kitchen, Tawny could tell that he’d told his mother. The two of them were sitting at the breakfast nook table, Cecilia clutching a cup of tea.
“Jake called,” Cecilia said. “Don’t be upset with him, mija.”
Tawny didn’t know how she could say that. Was love that blind that Cecilia couldn’t see that her boyfriend wouldn’t help her son when he desperately needed help? And then Tawny thought about it. Lucky had been so blinded by love that all these years he’d believed the best of Raylene.
Was it like that for her too? But there was no part of her that believed Lucky could be capable of murder, no matter how she felt about him.
“We need to call Pete,” she said. “Have him recommend a good lawyer.”
“I called him,” Lucky said in a soft voice, presumably so Katie wouldn’t hear. “He and some hotshot San Francisco lawyer are flying up tomorrow morning.”
Tawny got up and walked to the room she and Katie shared. Inside, she checked on her daughter, who lay in the bed fast asleep. The transplant had left her fatigued, one of the side effects.
“She okay?” Lucky asked when Tawny returned to
the kitchen.
“Yes. But I don’t want her to know about this. She’s become so attached to you . . . The news will upset her.” Thank goodness Katie wasn’t in school, where she’d hear the gossip sure as day.
“I’ll make this go away, Tawny. I promise.” Lucky got up and took her in his arms right in front of his mother. “It’s all going to be okay.”
She didn’t know how he could make those assurances. What if it wasn’t okay? “Jake knows what evidence they have.”
“A text message from my phone to Ray’s,” Lucky said.
It just kept getting worse. Almost too afraid to ask, Tawny said, “What does it say?”
“That I knew that Gus had stolen his cattle and that we should confront him together.”
“Did you send it?” she demanded.
“Of course not.”
“Then how do you even know about the text?”
“Clay told me. Ray has been telling everyone.”
“So he obviously made it up if you didn’t text him,” Tawny insisted, looking from Lucky to Cecilia. Cecilia had tears in her eyes.
Lucky pulled out a chair for her. “Sit down, honey.” He waited for her to take a place at the table and said, “The text exists. I didn’t send it, but it’s on his phone from my phone.”
“If you didn’t, then someone else did,” she said. “Who had access to your phone?”
“Half the construction crew,” he said. “The question is, what motive would they have had to set me up like that?”
“Maybe they weren’t trying to set you up,” Tawny said. “Maybe they were just trying to get Ray to come to your property so they could ambush him.”
Lucky smiled. “You missed your calling as a detective.”
“This isn’t funny, Lucky. Here’s another thing I don’t get. The shooting was weeks ago. Why are these allegations against you suddenly surfacing now?”
“Clay says Ray has been holding out on the police, hoping that his information on the drug ring might’ve bought him immunity. But rumor is that the DA is just days away from charging him with killing Gus. That’s why he started spewing this crap about a murder-for-hire scheme.”