by Linda Warren
The judge sank into his chair, at a loss for words perhaps for the first time in his life.
“Dad, is this true?” Hardy asked, looking as pale as his father. The truth was sometimes hard to bear.
The judge cleared his throat. “It...it just happened.”
“Oh, please, isn’t that a standard reply from all men? I expected better from you,” Rachel declared.
“Sweetheart, please listen to me. I loved your mother and—”
Rachel shook her head. “No, that line’s not going to work, either.”
“You cheated on our mother.” Hardy came out of his stupor, shaking his head. “She was the most loving, caring person in the world. She campaigned tirelessly for you for years. She spearheaded so many fund-raisers and spent days on the road encouraging people to vote for a man of honor, a man of integrity, a family man. Ha, what a crock that was. I can’t believe you could do this to her.”
“Son, I...” The judge buried his face in his hands. “I’m guilty as charged. Your mother and I had grown apart in those last years.” With his mouth covered, his voice was muffled, but Rachel and Hardy understood every word. “She had her interests and I had mine.”
“Yes.” Rachel snickered. “Yours was Liz and Mom’s was helping other people, mainly you. If your marriage had grown stale, you should have done something to spice it up, like a weekend away or a trip somewhere together, instead of always thinking about your career.”
She drew a hot breath. “For years I blamed myself for Mother’s death, but it wasn’t my fault. When she was walking out of that mall with the sexiest dress she could find to outshine Liz, she wasn’t thinking about anything but making you notice her again. That’s why her perception was off. That’s why she walked right into a fight between gang members. Other people were running for cover, but she was distracted. I will never forgive you for that.”
Rachel tore from the room and headed for the garage. She didn’t know where she was going, but she had to get away to deal with all the anger inside her. And she didn’t even know if that was possible.
* * *
ON SUNDAYS, ANY REBEL sons on the ranch were required to have lunch with their mother. She always cooked a big meal, enough for everyone. There was no way to get out of it if they wanted peace in the family. Egan placed his hat on his head and headed for the big house.
His mom had prime rib steaks going on the grill in the kitchen, and the smell was mouthwatering. The family gathered in the dining room at the big table that seated fourteen. His mother sat at the head of the table and Falcon sat at the other end, with Eden on his right and Grandpa on his left. The others took their seats on the sides, along with Jericho. He was always welcome. Egan sat between Quincy and Jude. Zane was next to his dad.
“It’s nice to have most of my boys for lunch,” Kate said. “Paxton and Phoenix should be home today.”
“We could use their help.” Falcon cut into his steak. “I talked to Sanchez and he and his boys will be here tomorrow morning to start cutting the coastal in the west pasture. It’s going to take all of us to get the hay in for winter. We’ll be baling into June and maybe July.”
“Everyone will pull their weight, son,” their mother told him.
“They better.” Elias stuffed steak into his mouth. “Paxton and Phoenix need to slack off on rodeoing for a while.”
“They do very well,” Kate said. “But we will need their help.” She passed a dish of potatoes to Quincy. “We still have to watch our finances. The note is coming due on the Fitzwater place. Buying it was a good deal, since it’s across the road from our property, but sometimes it’s a strain to come up with that money. I was thinking we might tear that old house down. The lumber might be worth something.”
Egan jerked up his head. “Why? I like the house. It was built around 1870 and some of the lumber in it is very good.”
“Are you going to fix it up?” Falcon asked.
“I might.” Egan gripped his tea glass. “It might be a nice place for me to live. I’d like my own home one day.”
Silence followed his words and he glanced at the startled faces of the others. “What? Try living with Elias and you’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“Hey. I resent that.” But Elias was smiling. “Can I rent your room out to someone then?”
“Hell, no,” Quincy quickly replied. “And stop stretching out your long legs. You’re scratching my boots.”
“Like I care.”
“If I put a fist in your face, you’ll care.”
“Stop it,” their mother said. “I won’t have any fighting on a Sunday.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Elias sat up straight.
Kate turned her attention to Egan. “If you want to fix the house up on your own time, then do so, and I hope your brothers might help you.”
“Ah, man.” Elias was not pleased.
“I will do it a little bit at a time,” Egan said. “And no help is required.”
His mother gave him a sharp glance, but didn’t say anything more and the meal continued.
“Did I tell y’all about the time—”
“Abe, please, no stories at the dinner table,” Kate interrupted.
“Bossy damn woman,” Grandpa muttered under his breath.
“Dad, after lunch can I go into town to see my friends?” Eden asked. At seventeen, she was eager for freedom.
“No.” Falcon took a sip of tea.
“Dad!”
He gave his daughter his full attention. “I let you go last week and what did you do?”
Eden looked down at her plate. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“I trusted you to be home by six and you weren’t. I had to call. You broke the rules so you pay. It won’t hurt you to spend Sunday with your family.”
“She just wants to see Brandon Lee.” Zane rolled his eyes, clearly enjoying teasing his cousin. “He’s so handsome.”
Eden pointed a finger at Zane. “You’re dead meat.” She jumped out of her chair and ran toward him, but Zane was a step ahead of her. Round and round the table they ran until Jude reached out, caught the back of his son’s shirt and pulled him into his chair.
“I don’t like you tattling on your cousin.”
“Aw, Dad.”
“Zane’s a jerk.” Eden plopped into her chair.
“Who’s Brandon Lee?” Falcon asked.
“Nobody,” she mumbled.
“And he’s going to stay that way.”
“When I turn eighteen, I’m leaving and never coming—”
Everyone at the table saw the ghost tiptoe across Falcon’s face, even his daughter. Eden threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I didn’t mean it, Daddy. I’ll never leave you like she did. Never.”
Falcon patted her back. “I know, baby.”
The rattle of a trailer interrupted the moment. Paxton and Phoenix were home. It didn’t take long before they were charging into the dining room with plates in their hands.
“You better take care of those horses in the trailer,” Grandpa warned.
“Don’t you have any respect for your mother?” Falcon asked. “You could have called and let her know you were coming home so early.”
“Give it a rest, Falcon.” Paxton slid into a chair.
Phoenix sat across from him. “I’m not roping anymore with Pax. All he does is chat up girls, and we don’t place in the money. He’s not focused. Rope with me, Egan. You’re better than he is any way.”
Egan dropped his napkin on the table and got to his feet. “No, thanks, lil’ brother, my rodeo days are over.” He went to his mother, leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for lunch, Mom.” He walked out of the dining room, but their voices followed.
“Does anyone remember the last time Egan smiled?” Elias asked.
“When he kicked your ass the other day in the barn,” Paxton replied.
“Shut up.”
“When did this happen?” their mother asked.
Egan closed the door and welcomed the resulting quiet. Pete jumped around at his feet.
Jericho caught up with him. “Where you going?”
“Thought I’d ride over and check out the Fitzwater place. I haven’t been there in a while.”
“You serious about fixing it up?”
“Yeah. It gets a little crowded around here. That’s why we’re always fighting.”
They walked side by side to the barn. “It’s better to fight than to keep all that angst locked up inside.”
Egan opened the corral gate and whistled for Gypsy. “Well, then, the Rebels will never need a therapist.”
Rico laughed, something he rarely did. “I’m gonna take a nap and then round up those heifers that need to go to La Grange in the morning. That will give us a head start.”
Egan guided Gypsy into a stall. “After I look at the house, I’ll help you. It won’t take long.”
Rico eyed him.
“What?”
“Nothing.” His friend shrugged. “Just trying to figure out why you’re interested in the house all of a sudden, but it’s none of my business. I’m glad to have a roof over my head. Glad to have a family. That’s my sermon for the day. See you later.”
Egan threw a blanket over Gypsy and then a saddle. His interest in the house had nothing to do with Rachel. That’s what Jericho wanted him to say. There was nothing wrong with wanting his own place.
Shooting out from the barn with Pete behind him, Egan knew he had to see Rachel today. He didn’t know when she was leaving, but he had to make his peace with her. They’d bonded in an unusual kind of way and he didn’t want her to have bad feelings about him.
Then he would put her out of his mind.
Chapter Fourteen
Rachel’s tears blinded her and she couldn’t see the road. Wiping them away, she tried to figure out where she was. Then she saw the sign: Rebel Road. She was going to Egan. And he didn’t want to see her. A choked sob left her throat as she searched for a place to turn around.
Her world didn’t have an anchor anymore. Home had provided a security that had kept her going, had kept her grounded. And home was all a lie. Her parents didn’t have the perfect marriage, as she’d believed, as they had portrayed to the world. A fallacy her parents had built over the years.
At the moment, her whole life seemed like a lie. And she had to wonder if there had been other women for her father. Why did people even bother to get married? She wanted a marriage that would last forever. One where the fire would never die and one where the love was everlasting. Was there such a thing? Or was she just naive?
She had to come to grips with all this, but right now she felt adrift in the sea of lies and deception, and didn’t know if she could ever forgive her father.
The wooded areas on both sides of the road were owned by the Rebels. Rachel didn’t see a cattle guard or entrance where she could turn around. She was thinking of using the ditch when she noticed a truck behind her, a beat-up old one with a rusty right fender. She slowed down so the driver could pass, but when the vehicle came alongside her it bumped into her car and forced her into the ditch. She slammed on the brakes and the car came to a sudden stop. Before she could gather her wits, the door was yanked open and a man grabbed her arm, pulling her out.
Panic gripped her and she fought back, trying to get free. She slapped with her hands and kicked with her feet until he got a choke hold around her neck. Her throat burned and she couldn’t breath.
Something cold was placed against her temple. A gun! Oh, no! What did he want? He smelled of liquor and garlic, and her stomach churned with nausea.
“Be still, missy, and nothin’ will happen to ya.”
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“Isadore McCray, and now yer gonna tell the sheriff the truth. I’m not going to jail.”
The crazy man with the dogs. Fury slowly built in her and she again tried to twist out of his grasp. He tightened his hold and she coughed, struggling to breathe.
“Stop or I’ll break yer neck.”
Rachel tried to think rationally, but her heart was racing so fast her brain could barely function. He wanted her to go to the sheriff with him; that much she could grasp. She just had to reason with him and everything would be okay. But she knew she had to be careful or the crazy man could really hurt her.
* * *
EGAN RODE TOWARD the Fitzwater property. He pulled up when he heard Pete yapping. The dog was about fifty yards behind him and had run out of energy.
Egan patted his leg. “Come on, boy. You can do it.”
Pete loped toward him. When he reached Egan, he looked up and whined. Egan patted his leg again and Pete jumped into the air, not quite making it high enough.
“Come on, boy,” Egan repeated. This time he reached down, caught a front paw and pulled him onto the saddle. The dog’s heart beat wildly against his hand.
“I’m going to have to stop feeding you so much. It’s making you lazy.”
Pete whimpered and rested his muzzle close to the saddle horn, looking straight ahead. Gypsy raised her head, getting antsy. Egan kneed her and they were off. Something through the woods near the fence line caught his attention. It was white and looked like a car. He turned Gypsy in that direction.
As he drew closer, he recognized the Mustang. It was Rachel’s. Had she run off into the ditch? When he sensed something wasn’t right, he stopped, dismounted and removed his rifle from the scabbard.
“Stay here,” he said to Pete, and made his way on foot. He squatted in the grass and surveyed the scene. Izzy had Rachel! The crazy fool. What was he up to? McCray had an arm around her neck and a gun pointed at her head. Oh, man.
Egan pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Wyatt. Luckily, the sheriff answered.
“You better get out to Rebel Road. Izzy has Rachel and he has a gun. I’m going in.” Egan clicked off before Wyatt could tell him otherwise. No way was he letting Rachel get hurt.
He had a problem, though. How was he going to get Izzy’s attention without the fool shooting Rachel or him? He needed a distraction. He motioned to Pete and the dog trotted over. Now he would find out if Pete really could understand him.
Rubbing the dog’s head, he said, “Listen close, boy. This is important.” He pointed to a post in the fence. “I want you to go there and bark. Do you understand me? Go to the fence post and bark and then go back to Gypsy.”
Pete whimpered and rubbed his face against Egan’s jeans.
“Go to the post. Wait for my signal and bark. Go!”
Pete whimpered again and showed no signs of obeying.
“Go. Wait. Bark. Now!”
Pete turned around in a circle and then made a dash for the fence post, except he went to the wrong one. It was farther down, but that didn’t matter. It was far enough away. Egan moved toward the fence. As he reached it, he held up his hand, giving Pete the signal.
Like magic, the dog barked and barked. Damn, the dog could understand him.
“What’s that?” Izzy turned toward the sound.
Wasting no time, Egan leaped over the fence and stood in the middle of the blacktop road with the rifle in his hand. He didn’t aim it at Izzy, afraid he’d shoot Rachel if he did so. Instead he held it by his side, the barrel pointed toward the ground. But his forefinger was on the trigger.
“Let her go, Izzy.”
The man swung toward him. “Rebel, what are ya doing here?”
“Let her go.”
He tightened his arm around Rachel’s neck and she coughed. “She’s coming with me. She’s gonna tell the sheriff the truth.”
“About what?”
“I didn’t sic my dogs on her. She lied.”
Egan had to be careful what he said. The guy didn’t have both oars in the water.
“Why did the dogs attack her, then?”
“It was an accident.”
“Accident?”
“I said ‘pretty fresh meat’ under my breath and I did
n’t think they could hear me, but they did and I couldn’t stop ’em. It was an accident.”
“Pretty fresh meat? That’s what you say to your dogs when you’re trespassing on Rebel land and see a newborn calf that is defenseless.”
“Your family deserves it,” Izzy shouted, and the gun shook against Rachel’s temple.
Egan held back his anger for her sake. “I’m sure Ms. Hollister would be willing to talk to the sheriff without you using force. That just kind of muddies the water, if you know what I mean.”
“Go away or I’ll shoot her.”
The old man was close to losing it. That meant anything could happen and that was dangerous.
The blare of a siren split the air and Izzy backed up to his truck, still holding on to Rachel. Egan had to calm him down.
“That’s the sheriff, Izzy. Ms. Hollister can talk to him now, so you can put the gun down. She’s willing to do that, I’m sure.”
“Y-yes,” she spluttered.
The sheriff’s car whizzed to a stop not far from Izzy’s truck. It was followed by Ira and Gunnar McCray, and then Falcon, Quincy and Jericho. They had a full house. News spread fast. Wyatt got out of his cruiser, as did Stuart. The sheriff didn’t carry a gun, so Egan thought he must feel positive he could talk to Izzy.
“Put the rifle down, Egan,” Wyatt said.
Egan was taken aback for a moment. “I’ll put my gun down when Izzy does, and not before.”
“He’s causing trouble, Sheriff,” Izzy told him.
“What are you doing, Izzy?” Ira joined the conversation. “Let that girl go. You’re only making this worse.”
“She has to talk to the sheriff, Ira. I can’t go to jail.”
Wyatt walked closer. “I’m here, Izzy. Now put the gun down.”
Instead, Izzy pressed it into Rachel’s temple, and from where Egan was standing he could see her trembling. His gut tightened. “Tell him I had nothing to do with the dogs attacking ya.”
“I...I...”
“Loosen your hold. You’re choking her to death.” Wyatt moved a little closer. “Are you okay, Rachel?”