Carbon Copy Cowboy (Texas Twins Book 3)

by Arlene James

  His mother lay in a coma due to an accident that he had caused.

  His supposed father had somehow become lost in South Texas and could be seriously ill.

  His alleged father seemed to have been a somewhat shady character, judging by his own father and widow.

  He had a twin he’d never known existed, let alone met.

  Instead of the one sister with whom he’d grown up, he had two sisters, also twins.

  In the background hovered the possibility of a half brother. Or not.

  Add to that last year’s disappointment with Tammy.

  And last but not least, he couldn’t get a certain beautiful, young amnesiac out of his head.

  It didn’t seem to matter that he didn’t even know who she was—or that she might already be promised to some other man. He’d never felt about another woman the way he felt about her, which just proved how perverse his heart could be.

  Well, she’d be gone soon; that being the case, he should just keep his distance, even if it meant staying away from church.

  Maybe it was petty of him, but he didn’t particularly want to be around his sisters and their fiancés, either. Landon seemed to find a million little reasons to touch Violet, and Ty was the same with Maddie. Jack didn’t begrudge them their happiness, but he didn’t see why he had to have his nose rubbed in it.

  Moreover, he was sick and tired of hearing Maddie go on about Grayson. His twin might be some hotshot undercover cop, but Maddie talked about Gray as if he was all that and a bag of chips—while he, Jack, couldn’t find the answer to a single question about their shared past.

  It galled.

  It hurt.

  It made him want to lash out, and that alone was reason enough to keep his distance.

  Still, he half expected someone—Violet or Kendra or even Maddie—to show up on Sunday afternoon, if only to check on him. When it became apparent that wouldn’t happen, his mood blackened. Waking up in pain on Monday morning didn’t help one bit.

  Stretching his sore, aching muscles, he decided the time had come to bring in some comforts of home. He’d spent too many nights in a sleeping bag on the floor, which seemed stupid since the house was now ready for furniture, at least in the rooms he would use.

  As he put the finishing touches on the paint in the master bedroom, he considered his options. He was pretty sure that his mom kept Uncle James’s old bedroom suite in the attic at the main house. Jack couldn’t see any reason why she wouldn’t want him to use it. Someone ought to. Then there was that living-room set he’d bought on sale last year to replace the old one at the ranch foreman’s house, only to discover that his mom and Ty had already beat him to it. Used but clean and in good shape, the stuff would fit his needs nicely. He’d require some dishes, too, as well as a few linens, and a television would be welcome. He would have to do some shopping, but so be it. Might as well plan on picking up a few groceries, too.

  His plan decided, he made a few calls to arrange help then cleaned his painting tools, timing his arrival at the main house just in time for lunch. Lupita feigned shock at seeing him.

  “Fancy seeing you here.”

  Jack rolled his eyes at her then leaned in to kiss her cheek, his gaze going involuntarily to the figure behind her. Kendra gave him a tremulous smile.

  “Jack.”

  He tried not to be happy to see her. He really did. Switching his gaze to the table, he headed straight there––and found a meager lunch of soup and salad waiting.

  Behind him, Lupita said wryly, “I’ll make you a sandwich.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” he mumbled.

  “We didn’t know you’d be here,” Kendra explained, going to the cabinet for a plate and bowl. “When it’s just me and Lupita, we tend to eat light.”

  Jack knew that Violet often stayed in town at this time of year, overseeing the farm store. After the end of harvest, she’d be around more often during the day.

  “Maddie’s working at the newspaper, I guess,” he said.

  Kendra shook her head. “She said something about planning a picnic.”

  “Oh. Right.” Maddie was on the planning committee for the monthly picnic on the church grounds. They went on as long as weather permitted, so the next could be the last one for some months. Jack looked to Lupita, remembering the arrangements he’d made that morning. “Better put together a couple extra sandwiches. Some of the boys are coming up to help me move stuff around.”

  As if on cue, a hail of knocks fell on the side door. Jack strode into the hallway to let the “boys” in. Beating dust from their jeans with two of the most disreputable hats ever seen, the pair shined the toes of their boots on their calves before stepping up into the house.

  “What’s up, boss?” one of them asked as they followed him back down the hall.

  “Just need a couple extra pairs of hands,” he answered carefully. “Sit yourselves down and have a bite of lunch first, though.”

  He couldn’t help noticing, with some irritation, that the two cowboys greeted Kendra like a longtime friend. It didn’t help that she rushed to set down extra plates and bowls, literally foregoing her own lunch in order to feed the men. Jack scowled, but she hastily assured him that there was more where that had come from, and Lupita agreed, plopping down a plate stacked with sandwiches. The women insisted that the men go ahead and eat while they scrabbled together their own meal. To Jack’s chagrin, the hands fell on the food like they’d been starved for salad, vegetable soup and roast-beef sandwiches.

  Lupita did have more soup, but instead of salad, she and Kendra made do with sliced apples, toast and bits of beef. When Kendra carried her food to the table, Jack nearly bit off the arm of the fellow who jumped up to pull out a chair for her, but he himself kept to his seat, even though that went against every gentlemanly precept he’d ever been taught. He managed, just barely, not to growl when Kendra smiled in gratitude at the cowboy’s gallantry. The remainder of the meal, while brief, did not improve Jack’s mood. Wolfing down his own food, he did not wait for the hands to complete their seemingly unhurried meals before ordering them up the stairs.

  “Can I help?” Kendra asked, rising as the men did.

  Jack glowered down at her. “No.”

  The stricken look on her face yanked the breath right out of his lungs, but he made himself turn away and lead the men from the room.

  They accessed the attic via a door on the upstairs landing. Jack found the bedroom suite covered by sheets and dusty boxes. After moving the boxes aside, they maneuvered the pieces—a bedstead, two side tables and a tallboy dresser—out onto the landing. Only as he carried out the bed rails did it occur to him that he was going to need a mattress and box springs. His shopping list grew.

  By the time the last piece went down the stairs and out the door, Kendra and Lupita both had figured out what was going on. Kendra, however, took the bull by the horns, accusing, “You’re moving out.”

  “Naw,” he said, avoiding her hazel gaze. It wasn’t as if he’d packed up his clothes and personal belongings, after all. “Just getting the other house together a little bit.”

  One of the hands asked what Jack wanted them to do next. He had them load the bedroom suite into the bed of the old range truck they’d driven in, then he directed one of them to drive that truck and its load over to his place. The other man would ride over to the storage shed with him in his truck.

  “Jack, please don’t,” Kendra pleaded.

  “Look,” he said, too cheerfully, “I’m just sprucing up the other place. I mean, this is what I’ve been working toward, you know?”

  “Talk to your sisters about it first,” Kendra encouraged.

  Frowning, he tried to ameliorate his need to snap at her by keeping his tone even. “I don’t need anyone’s permission to furnish my own house. Besides, it’s just a fe
w things.”

  He saw the tears brimming in her eyes and turned away, knowing that if he gave in now, he would never do this, not so long as it brought her pain. God knew that he didn’t want to hurt her. In a very real way, that’s what he was trying to avoid. For both of them. If he didn’t keep some distance between them, they would grow entirely too close. Then when her memory returned and she left town, they would both suffer.

  He couldn’t bear to think of her leaving, so he wouldn’t. In fact, he had a long list of things that he didn’t want to think about, and keeping busy was the only way he knew to do it. Stubbornly determined to stay the course, he went over to his truck and climbed in with the remaining ranch hand.

  Even the sight of Kendra standing there with a look of utter sadness on her face did not deter him. Starting the engine, he backed out the truck and aimed it toward a line of outbuildings in the distance. He and the hand picked up the living-room set, along with an old rocker and a battered trunk that Jack intended to use as a coffee table. He imagined rocking contentedly in front of a cheery fire while reading a book or watching television, and ignored the loneliness that seemed to creep over him.

  They arrived at his place to find the other truck waiting. The driver had carried in all the small pieces, including the dresser drawers. As Jack and his two helpers carried the remaining furniture pieces into the house—his house—Jack kept seeing Kendra’s face. He knew her well enough now to recognize the pain of rejection in her eyes. He told himself that it was for the best, but as he busily went about trying to make a home out of his house, he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t care.

  The problem, of course, was that he cared too much.

  * * *

  Violet plopped down on the foot of Kendra’s bed and sighed, following Kendra with her gaze as she padded over to the window seat and perched there.

  “Gwen Simmons says that Jack bought pots and pans at the ranch supply store yesterday and a whole box of dishes at the resale shop,” Violet reported. “She even claims that he drove up to Amarillo today to buy a mattress.”

  Kendra nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m so sorry, Violet. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t pressured him to go to Fort Worth after the fiasco in South Texas...”

  “Now, you stop that,” Violet scolded gently. “My brother doesn’t bow to pressure. Jack makes up his own mind about everything. He’s always been that way. He’s always had a tendency to den up like a hibernating bear when he’s wounded, confused or angry, but in this case I’m not sure it’s such a bad thing. This is the first time he’s really shown any interest in making a home out of that old place. Until now, it’s been more like a hobby.”

  Kendra appreciated the absolution. Still, she felt miserable about the whole thing. Even if Violet didn’t blame her for her brother’s current state of mind, Jack certainly did. Why else was he avoiding her? If she’d needed any more proof that he was keeping his distance from her, he’d certainly given it to her by essentially moving out of this house and into his own. What hurt most, though, was the knowledge that, in avoiding her, he also avoided his family.

  She’d never be able to forgive herself if she’d driven Jack away from his family. What if he never found his way back?

  How would Jack cope if Joe Earl did turn out to be his father? She feared that Jack would unconsciously distance himself from Violet and Maddie because they happened to be his half sisters rather than the whole sisters that he obviously wanted them to be. If he held himself apart from the family, would he even get to know Grayson or Carter? And what about his mother? Kendra prayed Belle Colby would awaken soon from her coma, but Jack should be there when she did, not off brooding about the mysteries of his past or his imagined guilt.

  In some ways, Kendra wanted to shake him until the scales dropped from his eyes and he saw how precious his family was. At the same time, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and simply love him until his pain stopped. Unfortunately, she had no right to do either one.

  “I wonder if the big dope even thought to buy a lamp,” Violet worried aloud, getting up off the bed. “There are no overhead lights in the downstairs bedroom or the living room, but you know what men are like.”

  “He’ll probably try to make do with a flashlight,” Kendra said distractedly.

  Violet laughed. “Probably. Maybe I’ll buy him a lamp.”

  “That would be nice,” Kendra commented idly.

  Violet narrowed her eyes, obviously thinking, and shifted her stance. “Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll buy the lamp if you’ll deliver it to him.”

  Surprised, Kendra blinked. “Oh, but how would I—”

  “This is a busy time of year for me,” Violet went on, “but I can find a few minutes to get around town and do a bit of shopping if you can deliver it to Jack.”

  “I’m always glad to help,” Kendra began, “but—”

  “That’s great!” Violet flashed a smile. “I’ll make it a table lamp, something small enough to be easily managed.”

  “Well, that’s fine,” Kendra said with thinly veiled exasperation, “but how am I going to get it there?”

  Violet shrugged and moved toward the door. “We’ll pray on it. Something will work out.”

  Kendra gave up and agreed. “All right... If you say so.”

  Although she’d agreed to Violet’s request, she honestly didn’t see how she could deliver anything to Jack or anyone else. Even if she’d had a vehicle, she couldn’t drive without a license. More than likely, what would eventually happen was that Maddie or one of the hands or even Landon, would deliver the lamp to Jack. Still, she would pray about the matter.

  Halfway through the door, Violet paused and extracted something from the hip pocket of her jeans. She looked down at it then turned back to Kendra, holding out her hand.

  “I almost forgot,” she said, “I have something for you.”

  Kendra stared at the tiny phone in Violet’s hand for several seconds. “I—I can’t take that. You and your family have done more than enough for me as it is.”

  “It’s just a loan,” Violet insisted. “Mom isn’t using it, so you might as well.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t take your mother’s phone. That’s too personal, too...”

  “I backed up all the info then deleted everything but a few phone numbers,” Violet told her. “It can all be restored when Mom’s ready to use it again. Meanwhile, you’ll have access to GPS, the internet, weather info.” She chuckled. “And a phone, of course.”

  Kendra bit her lip, considering, then shook her head. “I wouldn’t feel right.”

  “And what happens if you’re working down at the barn all alone and, say, a horse steps on your foot and breaks it?” Violet asked, pushing the phone at Kendra. “I know that I’ll feel better if you have a way to call for help.”

  “I can’t very well argue with that,” Kendra conceded, lifting her hand to accept the small phone.

  Violet smiled. “You keep that until Mom wakes up or you remember who you are. Meanwhile, I’ll go lamp shopping.”

  Kendra nodded uncertainly. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness.”

  On her way out the door again, Violet murmured, “It was Jack’s idea, actually. He pointed out that you had to come back to the house to call the vet the other day. We thought this might be a solution.” She flipped her hand in a farewell wave before sweeping through the door.

  Kendra stared at the small, rectangular phone. Oh, she was going to miss this place and the friends she had made here. How unfair it seemed to accept such kindnesses and then, once her memory returned, to simply go back to her former life. But what other choice did she have? She clearly did not live around Grasslands or someone would have recognized her by now, and presumably she had another life—a real life—elsewhere.

  For the umpteenth time, she’d tried to im
agine what that meant—a job, a home, friends, family, possibly fiancé, or even... No, she couldn’t believe that she had a husband waiting for her somewhere. The veil convinced her of that. She couldn’t conceive of a circumstance that would have led her to rush away in a long veil and blue jeans after a wedding. It had to have been before the wedding, if a wedding had even been in the offing.

  Perhaps she had been shopping for a wedding veil—and something had happened to send her rushing off. In an unregistered car? With no identification of any kind? To where?

  Kendra shook her head, acknowledging a dull ache that had begun behind her eyes. Had she left behind someone who loved her? Or had she run from a loveless life toward something—or someone—she couldn’t remember? And why couldn’t she remember?

  Surely, God ought to restore her memory and answer all these questions that had been nagging her for weeks. She just could not fathom what He might be doing or why. He surely had a purpose, though, for bringing her here and into the lives of these people. Might it be, dared she even hope, that He didn’t intend her to leave this area?

  For the first time, she asked God to return her memories but to also let her at least maintain a connection with the Colbys. Or were they the Wallaces? And how could she leave here without knowing the truth about them all? She knew in her heart of hearts that she could not leave until Jack had made peace with his own past and accepted the truth about his family.

  Even then, she couldn’t imagine how she could leave.

  “Oh, Lord,” she whispered, clutching that little phone, “whatever I’ve done in my past, whoever, whatever I am, please don’t let it cut me off from...” She had meant to say, “my friends” or “these good people,” but God knew who she really meant and why, so she just said it. “Please don’t let it cut me off from Jack.”

  * * *

  The second morning after Violet’s visit, Kendra came downstairs to find a lamp standing in the center of the breakfast table. A simple grooved cylinder of wood about a foot tall, it sported a base of rusty horseshoes and a small shade of tanned, hand-tooled leather. A short chain hung from the empty lightbulb socket. Kendra had to admit that it suited both Jack and his house to a tee. Moreover, she would have no problem delivering it, provided she found a means of transportation.