Getting Lucky (A Nugget Romance Book 5)

by Stacy Finz

  “Get out!” He slammed his door shut, ripped off the wire the police had carefully taped to his chest, and floored it back to his ranch.

  Chapter 23

  “What’s happened?” Cecilia asked the minute Jake walked in the door and found her and Tawny sitting at the kitchen table.

  Jake felt like he hadn’t slept in days, but was at the same time exhilarated. Not since Los Angeles had he done hardcore police work like this. And while he wouldn’t like it to become a habit, it had revved his engine.

  “You want coffee?” Cecilia got up and poured him a cup. The woman was always one step ahead of him.

  He took off his jacket and plopped down next to Tawny. The house was nice and toasty and as usual the kitchen smelled good—like home cooking. Cecilia stuck a plate in the microwave and handed him his coffee. Even at midnight the woman looked fresh as a daisy.

  “Come sit, sweetheart.”

  “I will.” The microwave dinged and she set a plate of lasagna in front of him. “Tell us while you eat.”

  “Raylene confessed,” he said. “She sent the text.”

  Cecilia and Tawny cried out at the same time, and Jake proceeded to tell them about Lucky’s meeting with Raylene at the rodeo arena, and how, unbeknownst to Raylene, he had worn a wire. Jake kept his and Lucky’s rendezvous at the Airstream trailer to himself. For a cop, the meeting had been highly unethical.

  “After we got her on tape, she came to the police station and spilled her guts,” he told them.

  “Oh God,” Tawny said. “Poor Lucky. This must have killed him.” She got up from the table.

  “Where are you going?” Cecilia called to her as she gathered up her coat and purse.

  “To Lucky’s. You’ll watch Katie for me, right?”

  “Of course. But it’s late, Tawny. Talk to him in the morning. You shouldn’t be out on the road this time of night.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Cecilia started to protest, but Jake covered her hand with his. He got up, walked Tawny to her Jeep, waited until she drove away, and came back to the kitchen.

  “I told you that girl was no good.” Cecilia prepared Jake a second helping, though he hadn’t finished the first. He supposed she needed to keep busy. “Why would she do such a horrible thing?”

  “Ray asked her to, and the girl’s under his thumb. I also suspect she felt deserted by Lucky—hell hath no fury . . .”

  “And because she has a screw loose,” Cecilia added.

  Jake couldn’t argue with her there. “The important thing is Lucky is in the clear. It’s over, Cecilia.”

  She brought him the rest of the lasagna and he pulled her down into his lap. “Lucky will be fine.”

  “I told him to watch out for that woman. He never listens to me.”

  Jake kissed her softly on the cheek and reminded her, like he always did, that Lucky was a grown man.

  “You helped him, didn’t you?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Lucky had suspicions about Raylene and asked for the wire. I did my job like any other cop.”

  “Jake, I know my son. He never would’ve handled it that way. He would’ve taken the blame for Raylene, just like he did ten years ago.”

  “But he didn’t, Cecilia. He made no excuses for her this time.”

  “What will happen to Raylene? Will she go to jail?”

  “That’ll be up to the DA. Right now, George’s main focus is on convicting Ray.”

  “Ay Dios, what a night.” Cecilia cupped Jake’s face in her hands. “You’re tired. You’ve worked so hard. Why don’t you stay?”

  “With you? Or in the guest room?”

  “The girls are here, Jake. You know how I feel about that.”

  “I do.” Cecilia Rodriguez was a proper lady. “How’s Katie feeling?”

  Cecilia made the sign of the cross. “She’s doing better every day. And every day I pray she pulls through this. Pobre niña, she’s just a baby.” She rested her head against Jake’s shoulder. “I don’t think I ever told you how much I appreciated you staying with us in Palo Alto . . . for everything.”

  “I wish I could’ve stayed the whole time, but the department is small. It’s difficult to take more than a few days. We may have a line, though, on someone to fill a slot for a fourth officer.”

  “Really?” Cecilia’s eyes lit up. Jake loved how she took an interest in his job and how she’d never given him a hard time about his long and strange hours. “Where’s he from?”

  “She. She’s someone I knew from LAPD. A young woman I’d worked with in the homicide division.”

  “Why would she want to leave such a big department?”

  “She had some problems there and needs a change. Anyway, it’s not a done deal yet. Rhys still has to interview her and she’ll have to decide whether Nugget is the right place for her.”

  “Should I be jealous of this young woman?” Cecilia asked, half teasing. She knew his past. He had never kept anything from her.

  “Ah, Cecilia. Since you, no one will ever have my heart again.”

  She laughed and let her eyes fall to his lap. “What about the rest of you?”

  “Sweetheart, I’m a one-woman man now. All of me.”

  Cecilia fell quiet and looked into his eyes. “In that case, if your offer still holds, yes. I will marry you, Jake Stryker.”

  He couldn’t believe his ears, having been rebuffed by her so many times. “Did I hear you right?”

  She teared up and nodded.

  “Cecilia”—he clasped both her hands—“you won’t be sorry. I’ll make you happy until the end of time.”

  “You’ve already made me happy. Te amo, Jake.”

  When Tawny went to Lucky’s trailer she found him doing push-ups. There he was in a pair of boxers on the ratty carpet, trying to kill himself with exercise.

  “Go home,” he said. “Our daughter needs you.”

  “Katie’s fine and Cecilia is with her. Lucky, Jake told us.”

  “Then you know I’m in the clear. So go home. I’ve got world finals to train for. And, Tawny, next time, knock.”

  “I did.”

  He got up, grabbed a towel off the ugly plaid sofa, and wiped the sweat off his chest.

  “For what it’s worth, Raylene went to the police and told them everything,” she said.

  “They already had it on tape.” Lucky scowled.

  “She didn’t know that.”

  “Who knows what she knew. She’s a liar.”

  “The DA is charging Ray with murder.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” he said. “Now if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to take a shower . . . and be alone.”

  She didn’t scare that easily. In the kitchen she made a pot of decaf and found a carton of milk in the refrigerator. She fixed two cups, put them on the coffee table, and waited. The water finally shut off and Lucky walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He hadn’t shaved and a layer of scruff covered his face.

  “Still here, huh?”

  “I came to tell you something and then I’ll leave.”

  He went into his bedroom and reappeared a short time later in a worn pair of Levi’s that he hadn’t bothered to button all the way up and an old Reno rodeo T-shirt.

  She motioned at the coffee. He took a mug and sat in the recliner across from her.

  “Despite what she did, Raylene loved you, Lucky. She always has.” She paused, wanting to do this right. “But Raylene is screwed up. For God’s sake, look at her parents. Her father is a brute and her mother may as well be in a coma. You’ve always known this about her. But you loved her anyway, because you’re a good man—”

  “You done?” He rested his head against the back of the chair, defeated. “Raylene played me . . . makes me wonder whether the entire time we were kids she was just using me. You knew all along what kind of person she was. What does that say about me?”

  “That you see the good in people. And that you wanted to
save Raylene. But some people can’t be saved.”

  “Yeah. I guess it makes me as screwed up as she is.”

  “I don’t think you’re screwed up, Lucky. I think you’re the best man I know.” She wanted to hug him, but something about his body language said he wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. Not right now. “Katie is blessed to have you as a father.”

  He stared up at the ceiling, looking sadder than she’d ever seen him. “I had Pete hunt down your messages. I don’t know how his tech people did it, but they recovered your ten-year-old emails. They’d gone into my spam filter. They couldn’t find the voice mails, though. By the time you’d left them, I’d changed cell providers.”

  Lucky shut his eyes. “I’m sorry, Tawny. More sorry than you’ll ever know.” He got to his feet, went into the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water. “You want one?”

  “No.” She watched him drain the glass and come back to his chair. He sat hunched over with his forearms on his thighs, his body just a few inches from her.

  “I need to put my head on straight—focus on the finals.” He exhaled. “You mind if we slow things down . . . take a break?”

  It’s not like they’d been moving at warp speed. They hadn’t even been sleeping together. “No, I don’t mind,” she said, realizing that this was his tactful way of breaking it off with her. “I understand how it is.” But she didn’t.

  Halfway to Cecilia’s, Tawny had to pull over to the side of the road. She felt nauseous. Raylene. It was always Raylene.

  The next morning, Katie ate a full bowl of cereal and an entire muffin, compliments of Brady. Tawny didn’t think she’d eaten that much for breakfast in the last five years. And her color looked good.

  “Mrs. DeLeo brought you a stack of schoolwork, if you’re feeling up to it.” Katie had missed so much school that Tawny wouldn’t be surprised if this time her daughter got held back a year. In the scheme of things, a small price to pay.

  “Daddy said he’s picking me up after he’s done with yoga and taking me to the ranch.”

  “Oh?” Tawny looked at Cecilia, who shrugged. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “He called this morning,” Katie said. “Can I go?”

  “Of course. What are you guys planning to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Katie said. “He wants to show me around so I can help him pick out a spot for his new house.”

  “I want you to bundle up. It’s cold.” Tawny thought it might even snow. She’d prefer Katie stay home today and rest, but it wasn’t worth a fight with Lucky.

  At the sound of an engine, Katie looked outside the kitchen window. “He’s here.”

  “Go get dressed,” Tawny told her. “Warm clothes.”

  Katie took her bowl to the sink and ran off. Cecilia greeted Lucky at the door. He looked like crap. Tawny wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been up all night.

  “Hi,” she said. His idea of a greeting was to bob his head.

  “You want breakfast?” Cecilia asked him.

  “Nope. On a diet.” Lucky didn’t have an ounce of flab on him. But Tawny assumed being lighter would give him an advantage at the finals. “Where’s Katie?”

  “She’s getting dressed,” Tawny said. “Don’t keep her out too long. She needs to stay warm and dry.”

  “I won’t,” was all he said.

  Cecilia reached up and held his chin. “We’re all sorry about what Raylene did. It was a terrible thing.”

  “You always had her number, Ma.” He walked over to the coffeemaker, got a cup, and filled it.

  “How is the training going?” Cecilia asked.

  “Not good. I’m out of shape and my bones still ache from the drugs.”

  “I’m sorry, Lucky,” Tawny said, knowing how much the finals meant to him.

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Katie’s getting better. That’s all I care about.”

  Still, Tawny understood how much he wanted to win.

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” Cecilia stuck a protein bar in his jacket pocket.

  “No. Clay’s coming over later. I thought I’d take one of the horses around the arena.”

  Tawny knew that he’d ride bareback and hands-free. She’d seen rodeo bull riders train that way before. It was nothing close to riding a bucking bull, but it helped cowboys find their center of gravity. Staying on a bull required a good deal of core strength. That’s why Lucky had been spending an hour a day standing on top of a twelve-pound medicine ball.

  “You want me to pick up Katie?” Tawny asked.

  “No. I thought she’d want to watch.” She probably would, but Tawny didn’t want her out for too long. “Just make sure she doesn’t push it, please.”

  “Tawny, have a little faith.”

  She had to stop being such a control freak. But Katie’s recovery was fragile so soon after the transplant.

  “I’ll go see what’s taking our girl so long.” Cecilia left Tawny alone with Lucky.

  “You talk to Jake today?” Tawny asked him, wondering whether Raylene would be charged with a crime.

  “Nope.”

  “You cancel with Pete and that attorney?”

  “Yep.”

  She let out an aggravated sigh. “I know you’re hurt. But despite me keeping Katie from you all those years, I’m not Raylene. I’ll never be Raylene.” No, she wouldn’t be. Because Raylene had been the one Lucky loved. Never Tawny.

  “If I thought you were anything like Raylene, I’d fight for full custody of Katie.” He cocked his hip against the kitchen counter and they stood silent until their daughter wandered in. “How’s my girl?”

  “I ate a whole bowl of cereal and a muffin,” Katie said with pride.

  “You’re getting your appetite back. That’s great.” He lifted her in the air. “You ready to go?”

  “Yep.”

  Tawny got Katie’s jacket and hat from the mudroom. “Put this on, baby. Where’s your scarf?”

  “I’ll get it.” Katie trotted off toward the bedroom they were sharing, and Tawny went to follow.

  “Tawny,” Lucky called to her. “I’ll take good care of her.”

  She had no doubt that he would. Lucky might not have a lot of experience with fatherhood, but he’d taken to it like he’d been with Katie from day one.

  On her way to the studio, Tawny let the tears flow until her sobs turned to spasms. She loved him, but he would never love her. Even without Raylene in the picture.

  The day passed in a haze. Despite her misery, she finished a pair of boots she’d been toiling over for six months. The client, a musician, had chosen a design of a guitar being engulfed in garish red flames, and Tawny could never work up the enthusiasm to finish them. Finally she packed them in a box and sent off an email to the boots’ owner that his order was on its way. Tawny was en route to the post office when Cecilia called.

  “Jake and I are on our way to Lucky’s,” she said. “We thought he could use a pep rally and wanted to see if you’d like to join us.”

  “I’m in the middle of a project that I need to finish before Vegas.” If Katie’s doctor signed off, they were all going to watch Lucky compete. Under the circumstances, Tawny would’ve begged off. But she wasn’t ready for Katie to travel without her. Not this soon after the transplant.

  “Oh.” Cecilia sounded disappointed. “He could really use the support.”

  Tawny supposed she could go just long enough to pick up Katie. It was already three. Katie should have a nap. “All right. I’ll meet you there.”

  She finished shipping her package, crossed town, and got on the highway—the shortest route to Lucky’s ranch. At the top of his driveway there must’ve been more than a dozen trucks and cars parked. She figured the vehicles belonged to Pat Donnelly’s crew and found a spot for her Jeep. As she walked to the arena, she noticed that a good crowd had filled the metal bleachers. Harlee stood on one of the arena railings, taking pictures. Above, in the announcer’s box, Noah watch
ed the activity from up high. Griffin Parks sat in the front row with Owen and the rest of the Nugget Mafia. Clay McCreedy was in the ring with Lucky while his two sons and Katie sat on top of the bucking shoots. Even the police chief and Nate Breyer had turned out.

  “Why is everyone here?” Tawny asked Harlee, who was loading pictures onto the Nugget Tribune’s website from her phone.

  Harlee shrugged. “As soon as I started live blogging and posting photos of Lucky, they began showing up.” She gazed up at the grandstand, which continued to fill. “Darla’s on her way. She just had to close the barbershop. My guess is the only one who won’t be here is Raylene Rosser. What a biotch.”

  “So you heard about that, huh?” Stupid question since there wasn’t anything Harlee didn’t hear. “It’s been rough for Lucky.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, Raylene did him a big favor.” Harlee pretended to shudder. “Even her best friend, Hannah, denounced her in my article.”

  Lucky’s construction crew had stopped to take a break, and workers slowly filtered into the stands. Donna and her husband, Trevor, set up barbecues by the arena and unloaded bags of hamburger patties and buns. It appeared that Lucky’s training was turning into a late-afternoon party.

  Colin came up behind Harlee and Tawny. “Is he riding a bull yet?”

  “Not yet,” Harlee said. “I don’t think that’s in today’s program. Lucky said it was too risky this close to the finals.”

  Thank goodness, Tawny thought to herself and watched as Lucky loped around the arena on the back of a horse, his arms held out to his sides. The only things controlling the mare were his knees. As he went past her he nodded.

  Justin, Clay’s eldest, helped Katie scramble down from the bucking shoot so she could run over to say hi.

  “How you feeling, baby?” Tawny was heartened to see that Katie was still bundled up. She even had on a pair of mittens. Where those had come from, Tawny had no idea.

  “Good. I’ve been sitting with Cody and Justin.”

  “I saw that. Did your dad feed you?”

  “Soup in his trailer. And we picked out a spot for his house.” She pointed up a hill that was too high to see anything. “He says he has to buy it first.”