Bea felt her cheeks heat while Laz cleared his throat.
“Something like that. She was smart enough to figure out this lead.”
This time his father turned completely to look at him, his gaze probing. “You wouldn’t have come out here if not for Beatrice?”
To his credit, Laz didn’t blink or stammer. “No, sir, probably not.”
Jeremiah went back to looking through the folders until he found what he was looking for. He handed it to her and left the room, coffee in hand.
She pointed her thumb toward the door. “That’s your cue, Ranger. Take care of your past or you won’t get a chance at the future.”
Bea sat at the desk, the creek of leather beneath her and the smell of pipe tobacco filled the air around her. She didn’t look at Laz but she heard him exit the room.
Lazarus had never been a coward, or at least he never thought so. Facing his father had taken balls. Leaving the Circle Eight ten years earlier had been the act of a boy, scared and humiliated by his actions.
Beatrice had bullied him into coming but he was glad of it. Or at least he would be after his gut settled down. The coffee he’d drunk sat like a brick, sloshing and burbling.
Pa wasn’t in the house, which could only mean he was in the barn, likely tending to his horse. It was the same thing Laz used to do, that most Grahams did when there was turmoil in their lives.
He walked across the achingly familiar ground toward the barn. It had been painted sometime in the last couple of years, the color darker than he remembered. A few yearlings milled around in the corral, tossing their heads and posturing for each other. Somewhere a dog barked and chickens chattered. It was all so normal and yet it was foreign to him.
Laz stepped into the barn, his eyesight adjusting to the darkened interior. The scents of horses, hay, shit, and other familiar smells hit him hard. He closed his eyes and breathed in. As long as he told himself he didn’t belong at the Circle Eight, then he hadn’t missed it. What a pack of lies he’d told himself.
He missed this place and everyone and everything. His pride was bigger than the state of Texas, consuming his decisions until he’d not been able to see what he’d done. Perhaps he’d be able to repair his relationship with his father. Perhaps not.
Laz walked toward the back left corner. The largest stall was there, the one his father had always claimed for his own. The low sound of murmuring grew louder as he approached. His stomach also flipped a few times.
The stall door was open, hanging like a gateway to his past. He took a deep breath and stepped into the doorway. His father ran the curry brush down the flank of a spectacular quarter horse. The gelding was probably five years old and was flawless.
“He’s a beaut.” Laz didn’t realize he was going to speak until the words tumbled out of his mouth.
His father’s hand stopped in mid-brush. “His name’s King. He’s Ten Speed’s get.”
Mention of the stallion that had been Laz’s lifelong friend, Ten Speed, made him smile. “Is he still providing stud service?”
“Nah. He’s spending his days eating grass and napping, just like an old man.” The brushing resumed. “Didn’t expect I’d see you before I cocked up my toes.”
“I deserved that.” Laz leaned against the stall door. “I’ve got no excuse. I was full of pride and a self-hate, and I let Mama down. I let you down.”
Pa turned to look at him, his expression ringed with sadness. “Lazarus, you never let your Mama down. She loved you to her last breath, no matter if you were there to hear it.”
Laz’s throat tightened. “I’ve missed this place.”
“You back for good or you fixing to disappear for another ten years?” His father frowned. “I ain’t getting any younger. Your sisters might stick around the ranch but they’ll need help.”
“I’m a ranger, Pa.”
“That don’t mean you ain’t a Graham. The Circle Eight can’t go on without a Graham at the helm.” Pa patted the horse’s neck. “Violet took on the breeding plans. Iris and Rose handle the financial and business end of things.”
“Sounds like there’s no need for me.” There hadn’t been a need in a decade. Laz didn’t belong anymore.
Pa held out the curry brush. “None of my girls have the touch with the horses that you do. Vi schedules the stud service, but she needs you. We all do.”
Laz stared at the brush, the sides worn and smooth from the hands, Graham hands that had used it on horses. Here was his chance, a peace offering from his father to wipe away the sins of his past.
It was so damn tempting.
“I don’t deserve it.” The words were almost torn from his throat. “I’ve done nothing to contribute to this ranch or the family.”
His father didn’t lower his hand. “There’s something I learned in life, son, it’s that everyone deserves a second chance.”
“I burned through all my changes the first eighteen years of my life.” Laz tasted bitter regret but he could not accept what he didn’t earn.
“Bullshit.” Pa threw the curry bush into a bucket, the clang reverberating through the barn. The gelding side-stepped but Pa laid his hand on the beast’s neck to calm it. “I’m tired of hearing that I spoiled you, gave you everything instead of making you work for it.”
Laz scowled. “I mucked my share of stalls.”
His father pointed a callused finger at him. “Shut up and listen. You’re playing the poor little boy who fucked up his life. That’s bullshit. You made some mistakes, we all do. That’s being human. From what I can see, you’ve matured into a responsible, strong man who spends his life in public service. Don’t tell me you don’t deserve a second chance.”
Laz’s ears rang from his father’s words. They sank in, one at a time.
“Pa, I was a little shit.”
“You made me plum crazy at times, but you always had a good heart. You got that from your Mama.” Pa’s gaze almost burned him in its intensity. “What you got from me is a stubborn mule head. It doesn’t matter if you don’t live here, or that you keep on being a ranger. What matters is that you stop running from who you are.”
When had his father become such a philosopher? He’d always been busy running the ranch and bellowing at everyone when they didn’t move fast enough. God knew Laz had gotten yelled at enough. He had left all that behind though, hadn’t he?
Pa was right. Laz wasn’t the same boy he was when he’d left the Circle Eight. Staying away had been to avoid the shadows of his past, to run from whom he’d been.
“I’m not going to make you stay. You stay if you want to. Leave if you got to. I expect you’ll help Beatrice and catch the son of a bitch who did this.” Pa picked up the curry brush again. “No matter what you think, I’m proud of you, boy.”
The words, ones he craved to hear for so long, settled on Laz’s shoulders and he took a few moments to absorb them. He’d spent more than a third of his life alone, without kind words or affection. His father offered him the return of the one thing he’d left behind.
Family.
“I can exercise the horses on my days off.” He’d spoken before he realized the words were ready to be said. Then another feeling rushed through him.
Relief.
“Good. Good.” Pa wasn’t one to be emotional, but he loved his family with a ferociousness that hadn’t dimmed over time. No matter the colossal mistakes his children had made. “You best go sort out Beatrice’s situation then. If I had a thief at my house I want to know about it so I can cut his balls off.”
Laz found himself smiling and it felt good. No, it felt great. “Yes, sir. I’ll be back on Sunday then.”
Pa turned and held out his hand. The big paw that had swallowed Laz’s smaller hand, had supported him when he’d stumbled, picked him up when he’d fallen, now reached out when Lazarus, like the character of old, returned from beyond.
After a long, hard handshake, Laz left the barn shaken. His nerves danced along his skin. What had just happen
ed? Had his father really given him the salvation he’d ached for?
Atonement. He’d never expected it.
Chapter Six
‡
Beatrice sat at Mr. Graham’s desk, availing herself of the pens and paper that were stacked on top. She’d gone through the file he’d left her and made notes as she looked through details.
When Laz came back in the room, she glanced up at him. He held his hat in one hand, his expression odd.
“Everything okay, Ranger?”
“Yeah, it is.” He gestured to the papers spread out in front of her. “I should be doing the investigating here.”
“I’m enjoying the hunt. It’s exhilarating, isn’t it?” She tapped the pad of paper. “I found evidence that three of the five business owners attended the expo. Three! The other two could have been at a business event like that. Someone is targeting them. Now we have a list of who else was there.”
She felt a thrill in finding a clue, like a real detective or cop. The store had been her entire world, for nearly her whole life, but running a gun business didn’t give her this kind of deep thrum of interest. Of satisfaction.
“Then we’d better get started finding out which of the guests had motive to do what they did.” He held out his hand she put the list she’d compiled in it.
“The crime at my store was full of rage, even more so than what I read happened at the other businesses. This was more personal.” That disturbed her more than anything.
“Or the perp escalated with each crime.” He scanned through the names. “Some of these are women.”
She raised her brows. “You think women can’t take a baseball bat to a window in a fit of rage?”
“Fair enough. I’ll run down these names and see if anything pops.” He tiled his head. “Good work.”
She flushed at the praise, wondering how long it had been since anyone had complimented her on anything. Maybe some loser who leered at her boobs. She never did much for anyone to admire except run her business and survive. Self-pity never did anything for anyone. She didn’t abide by it, and she didn’t allow herself to wallow in it.
Yet hearing a simple “good work” from Laz made her feel good. More than that, it boosted her self-esteem. Silly to admit, and she sure as hell wouldn’t say it to him, but there it was. Bea needed to be praised, just as any human being would.
“We’re not done yet. I’ve got a few more things to read through here.” She offered him the documents she’d already reviewed. “Did you want to go through these?”
“I don’t think I need to. Your notes are very detailed.” He sat in the chair on the other side of the desk.
She peered at him, wondering what had happened during the conversation with his father. His expression could be described as poleaxed. Her curiosity ran around inside her head, screeching to be satisfied. It was none of her business, of course. Hell, until two days ago, she’d forgotten he existed. Or at least tried to.
Now he was her quasi-partner and they were investigating a crime together. Life surely couldn’t get any stranger. Although she’d probably just hexed herself by even thinking that.
“My pa asked me to come by and exercise the horses.”
She raised her brows at his unexpected words. “Violet doesn’t do that?”
“She’s busy with the yearlings so the older horses don’t necessarily get the attention they need, I guess.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “I’m not sure why fate has decided to play with me, but I never expected any of this.”
Bea didn’t know whether to be insulted or complimented. She got to her feet and walked over to him, squatting down to be at eye level. His eyes were full of confusion and what might have been pain.
“Families always accept us, no matter what we’ve done. If your father wants you to come home, what’s stopping you? You’re a ranger, and work all over the state, right? The Circle Eight will be yours one day, why not take the chance.” She didn’t want to be someone who gave advice to Lazarus Graham, but perhaps he needed to hear it anyway.
He pursed his lips and looked down at his feet. “I want to.”
“Then do it.” She put her hand on his knee and squeezed. The exhilaration of touching Laz hadn’t dimmed an iota. The man was made of steel everywhere. “The only thing stopping you is you.”
He cupped her chin and kissed her with a gentleness that made her eyes prick with tears. What the hell was that about?
“If your store hadn’t been broken into, I would be somewhere else alone. Now I’m here, kissing you, about to accept an invitation back into my family.” He kissed her again. “What did I do to deserve all that?”
Happiness bubbled inside her and she was as confused by it as he appeared to be. Her life hadn’t been sunshine and puppies, that was for sure. She’d barely scraped by for years, staying afloat with sheer grit and a determination to keep her family’s legacy alive.
Now everything had changed. She had started to fall a little in love with a man she’d hated, or at least he’d been the image she had projected her hate onto, for so long. That sense of weightlessness washed over her and she was glad she was close to the floor or she might have toppled over.
He was right. Fate was a mighty strange thing. She could either fight it or fly with it.
“What happens next?” She wasn’t sure whether she was terrified or excited by the answer.
“Tracking down the leads and investigating the potential suspects.” He sat up and ran his hand down his face. “The crime scene techs haven’t sent me their reports yet so we may be able to connect all of it together.”
Bea swallowed the lump in her throat. “What happens next?” she repeated.
His expression softened. “Anything.”
She smiled, her heart all squishy. “Oh.”
They spent the next hour going through the rest of the paperwork, searching for information online about the other participants. It was the most fun she’d had in a very long time. Detective work was a surprise delight and could become addictive. It might have been because she’d spent the time with Laz.
Or maybe a combination of the two.
Laz put all his notes in a pile and got to his feet. They had made significant progress in narrowing down the suspect pool. He enjoyed his job every day, or at least he thought he’d enjoyed it. Bea had shown him he had been missing a key ingredient.
Passion.
She’d aroused him in so many ways, sexually, emotionally, and mentally. He hadn’t felt such a deep level of satisfaction in chasing down information. The only new thing in his life was Beatrice Cartwright.
Maybe it was because he’d been alone for so long. He had his cousins and his sisters, but they were occasional company. He spent his days, and nights, in a solitary existence. Being with her had shown him what being in a relationship could be.
It was too soon to say they even had a relationship, but it was something. Indefinable at the moment, but not nothing. A lot more than nothing.
He had been such a shit to her when they were kids. It was in the past and they were both different people. However, he felt a niggling desire to make things right, as much as he could. There were some memories he could not erase, but they could make new ones.
“What do you say to a picnic by the pond?”
Her brows shot up. She swiped a strand of hair that dangled over her eye, the kinky ginger curl moved merrily in the air conditioner’s breeze.
“Aren’t you on duty?”
“Supper picnic then.” The idea of a moonlit swim with Bea raised his temperature in an instant.
“At the pond.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I thought it would be good to create a new present and shed the past.”
“I like that idea. A lot.” She smiled and the world seemed to be a brighter place. “I’m not sure the last few days have been real. It’s like one of those movies where you see what the world would be like if your choices had been reversed. Somet
hing like that Christmas movie where the angel gets its wings.”
He shook his head. “I’m no angel.”
“That makes two of us. I’m not a devil either, but maybe somewhere in between.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to meet Lenny at the shop. He is going to reinstall the front windows today.”
He didn’t want to leave his pa’s study. There had been a monumental shift in Laz’s view of the world in that room. At the ranch again. He could see more than the hazy mist that had been his future.
Now he had something he’d lost. Hope.
They rode back into town together and he got to work doing background checks. When the afternoon waned, he ordered their picnic lunch from Waverly’s diner. Not too hard to believe they were still in business given their food was the best in the county.
He didn’t think to ask what she liked to eat other than sandwiches, so he ordered standard picnic fare and picked up a six-pack of beer to wash it down. He wasn’t the wine drinking type and if she was, perhaps she might want something different.
Laz was certainly that. He was a man unused to emotional commitments and was stubborn as all hell. He also had treated her badly when he had been a boy. The truth was, he wasn’t a catch. Hell, he was held together with spit and duct tape most days.
Self-doubt began to creep in. What if it was a fluke and was just the after effects of incredible sex that lasted for days afterward? That was possible, wasn’t it?
He drove the now familiar path to the gun store and pulled in. Laz wasn’t nervous, but he sure as hell wasn’t as confident as he wanted to be. His life had been routine, predictable. Maybe even boring. Now it was upside down, all because of Beatrice.
To be fair, he couldn’t blame her. He could have left her at any point to continue the investigation on his own. She had charmed him, pulled him back into the land of the living. The problem was, he wasn’t sure he was ready to stay there.
The scent of fried chicken filled the car, distracting him from his mental meanderings. It was time to pick up his date, because there was no doubt about it. This was a date and the pond offered them privacy as well as a romantic setting.
Circle Eight Millennium: Lazarus Page 6