by Anna Jeffrey
“Good. Make it before daylight. The house will probably have a bunch of women in it cooking, but nobody will be in the office. Dad will be cooking outside, so he won’t be coming in. I’ll be locked and loaded, baby. Be sure to wear something that’s quick and easy for me to strip off.”
She laughed again. “I’ll put some thought into that. Well…I’ll let you get to supper. ’Bye-bye.”
“’Bye—”
“Pic. Wait. I—I…”
He closed his eyes and held his breath. Please don’t say it, Mandy. Just please don’t say it. “What is it, baby?”
“Oh, never mind…. Just…just have a good evening.”
Normally, he hated when she started to say something, then halted and said, “never mind.” Today he was glad. “I will.”
They disconnected and he sat there, phone in hand, thinking. One of these days, she was going to say it. And she would expect to hear him say it back. Then, what would he do?
He sat a few more minutes, his thoughts veering to the solution to both his and Mandy’s problems. It was damn inconvenient for them to live thirty-eight miles apart. Marriage. And a prenuptial agreement. He never thought of marriage that he didn’t think next of a prenuptial agreement. He didn’t know if Drake had asked Shannon to sign one, but he knew one thing for sure. No way would Pic Lockhart ever say “I do” again without that piece of paper.
He closed his eyes. The day’s tension had drained away. He could easily go to sleep right where he sat. But he couldn’t. Dad—and Zochi—would be waiting for him. He pushed himself to his feet, returned to the bathroom and washed himself. Then he put on clean shorts and prowled through the closet for clean jeans.
His thoughts shifted to Mandy’s best friend, Gail. And Mike Norton. Had Mike been in the bunkhouse Saturday when Zochi paraded around only half-dressed? Had he said something to Gail about Zochi?
Hell, yes….
And just like that, the reason for Mandy’s call became clear. Shit.
The picnic. Mandy. And Zochi. How would he escape entertaining Zochi at the picnic? And if he couldn’t, what the hell would he do with her and Mandy both? He puffed his jaws and blew out a breath. He had been looking forward to the picnic. Now he dreaded it.
Chapter 17
The next morning, Pic was up before sunrise and headed to the kitchen for coffee and breakfast. The aroma of sausage filled the kitchen end of the house. He hoped Johnnie Sue had made his favorite breakfast—cream gravy and her melt-in-your-mouth biscuits to go with that homemade sausage he and dad made themselves out of lean wild hog meat. The closer he got to the kitchen, the more his mouth began to water.
The housekeeper usually said good morning and reported the weather or some other bit of information when he entered the kitchen, but this morning, she was as silent as winter fog. Oh, hell. Was she still pissed off because he had reprimanded her about her attitude toward Zochi?
This was a problem. He had to fix it. “Johnnie Sue,” he said, “I know you’re upset about what I said yesterday about cooking for Zochi. I was harsh and I’m sorry. Let’s bury the hatchet and not let it keep going on.”
She finally looked up at him. “That’s fine. I accept your apology.” She began to sniffle.
Oh, shit. Pic hated when women cried, especially if he was even partially responsible. He put down his mug and looped an arm around her bony shoulder, gave it a little shake. “Come on, now. There’s no need to cry. Everything’s okay.”
“I don’t understand,” she blurted, quivery-voiced. “I thought I was doing a good job here. I thought you and Bill Junior were pleased with the way I’m running things. I’m spending under the budget y’all gave me.”
“No, no, no, Johnnie Sue. Don’t worry about that. We are pleased. You’re doing a helluva good job. And we don’t want you to change a thing. You and I just had a misunderstanding about our guest.”
Johnnie Sue removed her glasses and wiped her eyes with the tail of her apron. “I don’t know what’s to understand. Anybody with two eyes can see what’s going on. Mrs. Lockhart sent that girl here to cause mischief. No man could ever find a better woman than Mandy. I don’t know why Mrs. Lockhart can’t see that. Or why you can’t see it”
Pic looked at her wide-eyed. Why the hell was she sticking her nose into his relationship with his girlfriend? He couldn’t fathom why she thought what happened between him and any woman would affect what was expected of her. All he knew was he couldn’t let this flap continue and disrupt the running of the household. “Look, I know Mandy’s a good woman. Better than I deserve. And nothing’s gonna change between her and me. It’s not your concern to worry about things like that, Johnnie Sue.”
“I have to worry about it. I like it here and I don’t want to see anything happen. This is the best place I’ve ever worked. Nobody has ever treated me as good as you and Bill Junior treat me. You’re like my family.” She broke into full-fledged tears.
Shit. This was going from bad to worse. He couldn’t argue that a sort of familial relationship had evolved between Johnnie Sue and his dad and even himself. He and Dad had come to rely on her grouchy mothering. Now, Pic didn’t know what to do. He patted her shoulder. “Come on, now, there’s nothing to cry about. Let’s don’t blow this all out of proportion.”
“As long as we’re talking, I might as well say what’s on my mind.” She tore off a sheet of paper towel and wiped her glasses. “I didn’t just get off the boat, you know. I’ve seen a thing or two in my life. That girl’s a sex bomb. She’d screw a fencepost. I don’t know her, but I can tell.”
Jesus Christ! Pic suppressed a gasp. His face heated. Shit! The housekeeper was plainspoken, but he had never heard her say anything like that. What could he say? What should he say? How could he get out of this conversation?
“I’ve watched the two of you,” she went on. “You look at her like she’s a big piece of chocolate cake. What man wouldn’t? I’ve seen that hungry look in her eyes, too. My God, what woman wouldn’t look at you like that? You’re young and good-looking. You ain’t lazy and you’re kind-hearted. You’re every girl’s dream, Pic Lockhart. But you’re blinder than a bat.”
Pic felt as if he had stepped on a merry-go-round that had no brake. “Those are nice words, Johnnie Sue, but I doubt if too many women are going to sleep at night with me on their minds.” He pulled his own handkerchief out of his back pocket and offered it to her. “Come on, now. We’re getting ready for a party. We’re all supposed to be happy, okay?...I can’t wait for a serving of those beans you’re gonna be cooking tomorrow,” he added stupidly.
She pushed his hand and his handkerchief away. Instead, picked up the tail of her apron again, wiped her glasses again, then her eyes. “You just watch your step, Pic. You’re like a son to me and I don’t want to see you screw up.”
He had to get out of from this conversation. “Don’t worry about me, Johnnie Sue, okay? Look, I know you’re busy getting the food together for tomorrow. How about I just grab a cup of coffee and go on over to the office. I’m already running late. I need to make a couple of calls before the day gets started.”
She shook her head. “I already cooked breakfast for Bill Junior. Sausage and gravy and biscuits. I’ll put on a couple of eggs for you. Only take a few minutes. I don’t suppose that princess will show up before the middle of the morning. I made her a separate little pan of gravy without the sausage. She can eat that and biscuits and I’ll poach her an egg. Surely she can eat a poached egg.”
Pic closed his eyes and arched his brow. Zochi hadn’t showed up for breakfast any morning she had been here. He doubted today would be different. “That’ll be great, Johnnie Sue. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”
The housekeeper made an exaggerated huff and gave him a flat-mouth look.
“Okay,” Pic said. “Even if she doesn’t, I appreciate it, okay?”
“Like I said, you’re a good man, Pic. And I want to keep thinking that about you.”
With Johnnie
Sue already putting the eggs on to cook, Pic quelled his urge to bolt, topped off his mug of coffee and took a seat at the breakfast table. While he waited, one knee involuntarily bounced up and down, his typical reaction to anxiety.
Women. Shouldn’t a college-educated, thirty-three-year-old man know more about dealing with women? He had battled drought, range fires, cattle rustling, vandalism and varmints. Every day he oversaw the care of 7,000 head of stupid mama cows and their calves and several hundred horny bulls. He exercised range management of thousands of acres of grazing land and supervised the farming and cultivation of thirteen thousand acres of acres of hay, wheat and oats. But the most confusing and frustrating quandaries in his life came as a result of something some woman had done or said.
Soon, Johnnie Sue brought him a plate with two perfectly cooked eggs-over-easy, three sausage patties, two biscuits and a steaming bowl of cream gravy. He wolfed it down, not enjoying it as much as he usually did, then picked up his empty plate and mug and carried them into the kitchen. Johnnie Sue was washing something in the sink. “Good breakfast, Johnnie Sue. My favorite. Thanks for cooking it.”
The housekeeper didn’t abandon her chore at the sink. “I baked that extra chicken last night so I can make some chicken salad for you and Zoshi to take out for lunch today. I’ll have it all put together when you’re ready to go.”
He took her making something Zochi would probably eat as being her way of trying to make up with him. “Thank you, Johnnie Sue. Everything’s okay then?”
“Right as rain,” she said without looking at him.
He finally escaped the kitchen and stalked toward the office, mumbling swear words as he went.
Besides everything else, Troy lurked in his mind. He should be back from Brenham by now. Pic couldn’t forget that he had promised Drake he would capture Troy and have a serious talk with him about his Dallas friends and the fact that the Texas Rangers and the insurance company’s arson investigator still had him listed as a person of interest.
Second, Troy was the answer to his predicament of having two women on his hands. He had made a firm decision about Zochi. As hot and sexy as she was, he had to put distance between her and himself.
Troy had no landline, so Pic yanked his cell off his belt and keyed in his little brother’s number. “Hey,” Troy answered, then let out a string of cuss words.
“What’s going on?”
“Feeding. Damn mare kicked over a bucket of water.”
For Troy to be in his horse barn before daylight wasn’t unusual.
Pic found the heavy office door unlocked. He stepped inside, heard his dad talking on the phone in his office.
“When did you get back?” he asked Troy, walking toward his own office. “You didn’t show up for supper last night. I thought I’d hear from you.”
“I called Dad last night after I got home. I didn’t leave Brenham ’til late yesterday afternoon.”
Pic rolled his eyes. Troy paid only scant attention to schedules unless he had to do something related to his horses. He didn’t wear a watch, relied on the location of the sun or his cell phone to tell him the time. Pic sank to his desk chair. “Did you come up to the house and say hello to Dad?”
“Haven’t had time.”
“You need to make time, Troy. Dad worries about you when you’re traveling. Listen, I need a favor. We’ve got a photographer here taking pictures of the ranch. I need you to drive her down to the old homeplace today. I took her up to the mesa yesterday, but I’ve got too much to do to be providing escort service.”
Troy chuckled. “You said “her.” Is she good-looking?”
An image of Zochi as she had looked last night at supper floated through Pic’s mind. “Island princess.”
“No shit?” Troy laughed again. “Haven’t seen an island princess in a while. I’d like to help you out, Bro, but I can’t do it today. I’ve been gone since Saturday. You wouldn’t believe all that I’ve got ahead of me. Farrier’s coming out later this morning. And a guy I met down in Brenham is bringing me his mare to look at. Three different trainers have fucked her up. He wants me to try to fix her.”
Fixing fucked-up horses was what Troy did. And he did it extremely well. He had an almost eerie connection to horses. Some called him a horse whisperer. That ability brought him substantial earnings. “Why can’t you take her down there yourself?” Troy asked. “Shouldn’t take more than two or three hours.”
Pic sighed. “I guess I’ll have to. You’re gonna be at the picnic tomorrow, right?”
“Planning on it.”
“Maybe you can entertain her at the picnic. Mandy’s coming out and me having to entertain a hot chick will go over like a turd in a punch bowl.”
“She’s that hot?”
“Would I lie?”
“In that case, Big Brother, I’ll be glad to show her some of my good ol’ Texas cowboy swagger.”
Pic could picture his ornery little brother—his laughing dark eyes and wide grin. “Great. Just make sure that’s all you show her. Don’t forget she and her parents are friends of Mom’s. You’re gonna come to the house for supper tonight, right? Say hello to Dad? You can meet her then.”
Pic reminded him they needed to get together for a talk and they disconnected. He sat there staring at the phone trying to think of someone else who could take Zochi to the old homeplace. Like a bright light, Kate popped into his mind. She was the perfect one to do it. They could girl-talk all the way there and back. He hooked his cell back onto his belt, picked up his desk phone receiver and pressed in Kate’s number.
She came on the phone, her voice husky from sleep. “I know who this is. The question is do you know what time it is?”
Uh-oh. He had awakened her. “Time you got outta bed.”
“Maybe I don’t want to get up yet.”
Then it dawned on him, she might not be alone. Troy had told him she had hooked up with a car dealer who owned a cutting horse. “What, you got some dude there with you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know? What do you want?”
After he told her what he wanted her to do, she said, “Can’t help you, Bro. I’m still in Brenham.”
Pic made a mental sigh. “When are you coming home?”
“I met this guy. He’s got this cabin in the mountains in Colorado. We’re thinking about going up there. He flies his own plane.”
Concern raised its’ head in Pic’s imagination. “What kind of plane? How long has he been flying? How many hours has he got?”
She gasped. “Do you have a reason for this inquisition? Isn’t it bad enough that I’ve got these Rambo guys following me everywhere I go?”
“Flying in the mountains in the summertime is not like flying around in South Texas. It can be dangerous.”
“Don’t get your boxers in knot, Big Brother. I’ll mosey on home when the good time runs out.” She laughed.
Pic hated acknowledging it, but his little sister was a man-eater. She went through guys like changing socks, had no interest in a steady boyfriend or a husband. He worried about that. “You oughtta get yourself back here and show up at the picnic tomorrow,” he told her.
“Why? Is Daddy gonna paddle me if I don’t?”
“C’mon, Kate. How long have you known this guy? Three days? And you’re going off to the mountains with him? And in a puddle-jumper to boot?”
“Um, I met him Thursday. So that makes it six days.”
“You shouldn’t be going off to a mountain cabin with a guy you’ve known six days. Hell, he could be an axe-murderer.”
“Dammit, why is it okay for you and Drake and Troy and even Daddy to screw everything that stands still, but it’s not okay for me?”
Pic envisioned her stamping her foot. He skipped over the double-standard accusation. “Because you’re a girl, dummy. And you’re my little sister. And that makes it not okay. I don’t like hearing the shit I sometimes hear about you, Kate. It makes me feel like I oughtta whip somebody’s ass.”
“Really. And how do you think it makes me feel hearing people say all of my brothers and even my daddy are cockhounds?”
He let out a breath of frustration. He didn’t want to get into one of those circular arguments that she was so good at and always won. “You need to just forget the mountains and come on back home. You know Dad wants the whole family at the picnic. Troy’s already back. And I’ll be worried about you until you get back here.”
Silence. Then, “Well….I’ll think about it. I don’t know how I’d escape the damn ninjas anyway.”
Just as he figured, bringing up gossip he had heard about her had touched a nerve. “Think hard about it. If you leave right now, you’ll be here in time for supper.”
She disconnected in his ear. Shit! Pic drew his hands down his face. He tried not to be narrow-minded asshole, tried not to criticize, tried not to intrude into Kate’s life. After all, she was no kid and she operated a fairly successful business. But she was his baby sister. She was smart and beautiful and she deserved better than to be thought of as a…as a party girl. What she needed was a good, solid guy she cared about. Somebody like her neighbor, Will Harrington, who worshipped the ground she walked on. But she thought of Will as nothing more than a friend. Pic couldn’t figure it out.
Just then, his dad appeared in the doorway, leaning his shoulder on the jamb. “That Kate?” Where is she?”
“Still in Brenham.”
“Troy said she and Little Boy Blue won that little horse show down there.”
“Yeah, I guess they did.” Pic had been so preoccupied, he had forgotten to ask her how Little Boy Blue had done in the finals. He rose from his desk chair and rounded the end of his desk. “He’s a good-looking horse. Maybe he’ll turn out to be a performance horse after all. Did you make coffee?”
“Yeah,” his dad answered as they walked together toward the coffee pot in his office. “You still taking Zoshi to the old homeplace today?”
What had happened in the guesthouse yesterday zoomed into Pic’s thoughts. What would hours alone with Zochi bring today? She seemed to be a different person every time he saw her. But today, he had a tight rein on his libido and he intended for things to go in a different direction. “Guess so. I can’t find anybody else to do it. Looks like we’re looking at another hundred-degree day.”