A Little Texas

by Liz Talley

  The older woman released her hand. “Yes, I know. Follow me and I’ll show you to his office.”

  Kate glanced at Rosa. Rick’s grandmother stood watching, her mouth slightly agape. She assumed the woman hadn’t expected Vera to greet the usurper to the throne. Of course, she wasn’t really interested in anything from either of the Mitchells. Only a bit of money owed for all the times she’d eaten leftovers from the diner because her grandmother couldn’t afford groceries.

  She followed Vera to the foyer—noting the modern elevator sitting like an anachronism in the traditional elegance of the mansion. They climbed to the second floor and Kate scanned the massive oil paintings of barren Texas landscapes, the impression of them as cold and imposing as the miles of marble they walked upon.

  “Here we are.” Vera swept her hand toward an ornately carved door.

  “Thank you,” Kate muttered, trying not to squirm under the other woman’s scrutiny. She’d be damned if she felt remorse about what she was about to do.

  “You’re welcome,” Vera said, catching Kate’s gaze with her own. She held it for a moment before nodding. “Yes, you have his eyes.”

  Kate didn’t know what to say. She waited, but Vera didn’t say anything else. Instead, she melted away, leaving Kate standing there, feeling weird and out of place.

  So Kate gave herself a mental pep talk. Vera didn’t matter, Rick didn’t matter, no one mattered. Justus Mitchell had denied her. This time, his chick had come home to roost. And this chick wasn’t a scared little girl. This chick was a ballbuster.

  She didn’t bother with knocking—he didn’t deserve the courtesy. She opened the door and walked inside as if she owned the place.

  RICK MADE IT ALL THE WAY to Phoenix before turning the car around and heading back toward Cottonwood.

  What had he been thinking, leaving Kate alone to deal with Justus by herself? He hadn’t discussed anything regarding Kate with the old man, and Justus could be erratic. And, frankly, manipulative. He had come to Christ, but he was still a sinner as much as any man. Rick didn’t trust him to not trick Kate.

  And what about that kiss? The saucy little salon owner’s taste still lingered on his lips.

  He passed a hand over his face.

  Damn, that kiss had felt good. Good in a scary way, because something had moved inside him again. Like when he’d watched her in Vegas, and again on the plane. What was she doing to him?

  He didn’t want to think about the compulsion that drove him to return to the ranch.

  The Texas countryside passed him, dull and gray. This last day of January was grim, harsh and cool with little to no lacy snow to hide the hibernating earth. Yellowing grass and naked sweetgum trees mingled with the dusky green of the pines. The bright red of his hood was the only brilliance to meet the eye. The only gang-related color he allowed himself in his life.

  It had been Ryan’s car. The car they’d restored together, right before he’d died.

  How they’d both loved the vibrant red paint—the original color, painstakingly researched and tracked down. It had gleamed beneath the many coats of wax they’d applied while nursing warm beers and listening to Santana’s sweet licks. Sometimes it seemed like only yesterday they’d stood in the garage and joked about Ryan’s girlfriends and the failure of the Cowboys to draft a good quarterback.

  Tony Romo had proven them both wrong, but what had it mattered? His young friend would never watch another game with him.

  And that haunted him more than any of his past mistakes. Rick should have believed Ryan. He should have known Ryan was telling the truth, but he’d refused to listen.

  Rick rolled down the window and allowed the memories to be sucked out the car. The cold air hit his face. Reality had teeth.

  Ryan was gone, but Kate was not.

  He took the drive fast, kicking up crushed rock and causing dust to boil into the interior.

  His grandmother met him at the door. “You shouldn’t have dropped her off that way. Left her to face him alone—”

  “I know,” he interrupted as he beelined toward the door that led into the bowels of the house. “Did you take her to Justus?”

  “No, Vera did.”

  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath as he wound through the downstairs and took the stairs two at a time. Vera was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the house was eerily quiet. He stopped outside Justus’s office and listened.

  He didn’t hear anything.

  He eased the door open, not knowing what to expect. Then he stared in surprise.

  Justus sat in his chair near the window, silent and solemn as Rick had ever seen him, and Kate stood about ten feet from him, hands propped on her hips. Her narrow shoulders were thrown back and her chin jutted high. She didn’t see him enter the study. Neither did Justus.

  “You’re right, of course,” Justus said. He did not pull his eyes from the window. He seemed to be looking out at Ryan’s garden. No doubt Vera was rambling about. She went there daily to pray, to mourn and to celebrate the son she loved. Justus observed her grief from above.

  “You’re damned straight I’m right.” Outrage laced her words. Only the slightest tremble of emotion in her voice gave any indication the conversation meant more to her than some random argument over a parking spot.

  “Yes.” Justus nodded before tearing his eyes from the scene below. His gaze met Rick’s.

  Kate spun around. “What are you doing here? This is a private conversation. I don’t need your help.”

  Her violet-blue eyes flashed, much as Justus’s did when he was irate. “Yes, I’m sure you don’t. But Justus might.”

  A choking sound came from Justus. It sounded rusty and was seldom heard around Cottonwood, but was definitely a laugh. “True. She puts up a lot of fight, considering she’s no bigger than a dust mite.”

  This seemed to bother Kate more than it should have. “Being small does not mean being without resource. I can handle myself fine. Now if you will just hand over my child support payment, I’ll get out of your life.”

  A smile hovered on Justus’s thinning lips. “Child support? I suppose one could call it that. But…”

  A furrow popped up between Kate’s eyes. Her brow lowered, like a dog smelling a trap. “But what?”

  “I’m first and foremost a businessman, and I can see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  Rick remained silent and watched Kate. He knew Justus well enough to know he had a reason for summoning Kate to Cottonwood and it had nothing to do with money. It was something bigger.

  “I have an offer to counter your illegal demand for money, Kate.”

  She advanced on Justus and stuck a finger in the middle of his chest. “Bullshit. Call it whatever you want, but you owe me.”

  The old man merely looked up at Kate. His wheelchair whirred as he moved it forward. His daughter stepped back. “If you want child support, I think it only fair to give me something.”

  “Wrong.” Her word cut the air.

  “No, hear me out. I’ll give you child support, but I want my visitation.”

  Rick averted his eyes to the painting adjacent to where he stood. He couldn’t look at Kate because he knew Justus had done what he always did. Pulled the rug out and left his victim gasping on the floor. It wouldn’t be wise to get involved. She’d unleash on him, and Hurricane Kate could pack a punch.

  Hell, what was he doing here, anyway? His head said, “run.” But his gut said, “stay.” Finally, he looked at Kate, whose mouth was open and he knew.

  She needed him even though she didn’t realize it. And for some reason beyond his understanding, he was going to help her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  KATE NEARLY CHOKED ON her rage. What the hell did the old man mean, visitation?

  She put a hold on her anger long enough to glance over at Rick. His expression seemed composed. Had he expected to hear those words come from Justus’s mouth? For the umpteenth time, she
wondered what he was doing at Cottonwood. Why was he dancing to Justus’s fiddle?

  “What do you mean?” she asked, directing her attention to Justus. Her fingernails pressed into her palms hard enough to draw blood.

  “I want to spend some time with you. Get to know you. It’s simple, really. And makes this whole thing an agreement, rather than blackmail.”

  “No.” Kate shook her head. He couldn’t control her. Or change the rules. She’d come to Texas at his behest to settle what she’d started. Two days. That was all she was willing to give him.

  “You want back payment on child support with no absolute proof that you are my daughter. I think it’s only fair I get something in return.” Justus’s face was placid, calm. The man knew how to play a boardroom. He hadn’t climbed to the top of a financial empire by showing his cards. “Fair? You want to talk fair?” She couldn’t stop her voice from rising, no matter how much she wanted to show indifference. For the second time in her life, she felt absolutely helpless to stop a wave of sheer anguish from crashing over her. She’d felt this way before…the first time she’d confronted Justus.

  She’d been but nine years old, a feeble babe under the paw of a wolf. Yet that vulnerability had forged steel in her. She’d never forgotten.

  She put aside that memory and concentrated on simply breathing. Why had she done this? Why had she sought out the only man who made her feel so worthless? “You cannot talk to me of fairness. You know what you did.”

  His face showed the first crack. He wasn’t indifferent to her words. She saw this. Rick did, too.

  “I’m not sure this conversation involves me. I just wanted to check on you, Kate. Make sure you were okay.” His words were comforting. Someone cared, even if he wasn’t supposed to.

  “I—”

  “I don’t see why you can’t stay, Enrique. I’ve never kept secrets from you.” Justus’s words interrupted her.

  Rick stopped in his progress toward the door. His mouth turned down slightly. “I’d say that’s not necessarily true.”

  For a moment silence hung over them, a wet blanket, cold, clingy, stifling.

  “What do you mean by ‘spending time’ with me?” Her words brought both men’s gazes to her.

  Justus swung his one good hand toward the tray upon his wheelchair. He moved a piece of paper toward her. “Take this.”

  She didn’t want to get that close to him again, but she made herself move forward and take the paper. It was a check.

  A check for fifty thousand dollars.

  “It’s postdated two weeks from today. It’s yours free and clear as long as you stay for that duration and allow me the chance to change your mind about me.”

  Kate looked at all those zeroes and swallowed.

  This little piece of paper was her salvation.

  But was it worth two weeks in Oak Stand? Two weeks with the man she swore she’d hate forever and a year? “Change my mind?”

  “About having a relationship with me. Trying to repair the fences that have been broken. I am, after all, your father.”

  “That’s not what you implied earlier,” Rick pointed out. “You said she had no proof.”

  Justus gave a heavy sigh. “I employ you as my assistant for good reason. Nothing slips by you, boy.”

  “So, you’re his assistant? I thought you were the director of that center.” She pressed her hand against the throb in her head, trying like mad to figure out why Justus kept a Hispanic tough guy for a right-hand man while also planning on how to wrangle out of the old man’s demands.

  “I was his assistant. One with a vast job description.”

  Justus snorted, but it was humorless. She couldn’t get a handle on their relationship. There were undercurrents, but then again, the room pulsed with undercurrents. She was a hapless traveler clinging to a tree branch in the middle of a raging river.

  “I can’t stay here,” she said. “I have responsibilities in Vegas.” She’d lose customers if she canceled any more appointments. Jeremy had already whined about having to be away from Victor so much. Of course, after she reminded him she was saving his ass, too, he shut up.

  But she couldn’t expect him to handle the salon and her customers while she sat at the feet of her long-lost dad so the man could tell her bedtime stories and buy her pretty ribbons for her hair.

  Justus was delusional if he thought he’d win any smidgeon of respect or crumb of affection.

  “It can be arranged,” Justus said, with the assurance of a man who could make almost anything happen. Money and power cleared his path.

  She shook her head. “No. You can keep the check. I only want the amount I originally asked for.”

  The man who sired her looked her straight in the eye. His eyes were a mirror image of her own, and it discomfited her. “No. You can have the amount on that check, but you have to give me the two weeks. That’s the offer.”

  “I can get an attorney. We can do a paternity test, and then I can sue you for what you owe me. Owe my grandmother for raising me all those years.” She lifted her chin, glared at him.

  “Sure, you can hire an attorney. But there is the matter of the letter you sent.” Her father pulled a paper from his shirt pocket and waved it. “I’m not sure a judge would look favorably on blackmail. Besides, a lawsuit will take years and there is always the chance I’m not your father. Presently, I’m not asking for proof. You can have the money and you wouldn’t even have to be my real daughter. The odds are in your favor.”

  Kate felt the trap slam shut. He was right. She didn’t have the time or money for a lawsuit. She needed the money now.

  And Justus knew it.

  She took her hands from her hips and crossed her arms across her chest. If she did what Justus wanted her to do, she’d be letting go of that tenuous branch and immersing herself in that raging river. She could only hope that there was dry ground ahead. And that she wouldn’t get sucked beneath the surface and end up broken on the rocks below.

  It was only two weeks of her life. She could handle anything for two weeks even if it would be a bitch to arrange…and endure.

  She let go. “Fine.”

  Rick moved behind her. She could smell his cologne, feel his warmth. She wanted to lean against him. Or turn and bury her head in his chest. Which was dogass stupid. She didn’t need anyone to take care of her. Certainly not a man she’d only known for seventy-two hours.

  “Excellent,” Justus said, moving his chair from the window toward the desk anchoring the room. “I’ll have Rosa prepare a room for you.”

  “I can’t stay here,” Kate said, stepping back. Her back bumped Rick’s chest. His hands slid to her elbows, bracing her.

  “How will I get to know you if you aren’t at Cottonwood?”

  Kate panicked for a moment. He wanted her here alone in this house with him and his cold wife? The thought made her stomach twist into ropes. “If I stay here, you have to give me something to do. I can’t just ramble around this house. I need a job. Cover. People talk about me enough in Oak Stand.”

  “A job?” Justus repeated. “I don’t have a job for you.”

  “The center,” Rick said. “We need to hire an administrative assistant to handle things like therapist appointments and grant paperwork. It’s really piling up.”

  Justus frowned, but she felt a niggling sense of satisfaction. Rick had helped her. And there was a flash of something else. Something to do with spending her days with the sexy man. A sort of anticipation. “Good. I’ll help at the center and then spend some, ah, time with you in the evenings. That’s my deal. Take it or leave it.”

  Justus’s eyes moved between the two of them. Several seconds passed before he muttered, “I suppose that will be acceptable.”

  Kate felt a string snap inside of her as relief flooded her body. She wasn’t absolutely alone in this.

  “Okay, I’ll stay here with you.” She swallowed the acid that had welled in the back of her throat. She could do this. Do it for her futu
re. For the salon’s future. “But first, I have to pick up my things. And I’ll need to buy more clothes and toiletries. I only planned to stay a few days.”

  “Give her a credit card, Enrique,” Justus said, without a single blink.

  She lifted her chin. “I can pay for my own things.” She glanced at Rick. “Although a ride into town would be nice.”

  “I’ll be glad to take you into Longview after I stop at Phoenix. I’ve got a few things to do there.”

  “Well, then. I’ll see myself out.” She slipped from the room as quickly as she could manage. Though she still felt partially victorious for setting her own terms of surrender, she could feel a migraine headache starting. Little zigzaggy things were already shadowing her vision. When she got to the hallway, she pressed herself against the polished wainscoting and took several cleansing breaths.

  Had she waved the white flag? Or was the battle only beginning? She wasn’t sure, but she was certain of two things. Something big loomed ahead of her, and her toes were sweating in her designer half boots.

  “DO YOU THINK THIS IS WISE?” Rick asked as Justus maneuvered his wheelchair behind the colossal antique desk. “What about Vera?”

  He shrugged, although it was a rather distorted shrug. “What about her? This doesn’t concern her.”

  “The hell it doesn’t.” Rick walked to the window. Vera stood among the dead plantings, staring at the marble angel in the center of the circular garden. He could see her lips moving in silent prayer. “She’s still hurting over Ryan. And bringing Kate—”

  “Why do you care?” Justus’s words were tinged with anger. “Vera’s not your concern. She’s mine. It’s been three years. It’s time she stopped wandering around this ranch like some shadow of a woman. She’s like a Dickens character. All she needs is a moldering bridal gown and an old wedding cake. It’s absurd.”

  Rick didn’t know Dickens. He’d dropped out of school before the tenth grade, but he knew what Justus meant. Vera had spent long enough mourning, but Rick couldn’t abandon the woman who’d first accepted him as something other than a thug. Besides he owed it to Ryan to look out for Vera.