by Linda Warren
Quincy knew that weighed heavily on his brother’s mind. Jude was the quiet, responsible one in the family. He stayed mostly to himself, never caused trouble and was a straight-up kind of guy. He was the one everyone could depend on and trust. He carried a scar on his forehead where Ezra McCray had shot him the day John Rebel had killed Ezra. That, too, weighed on his mind.
It didn’t take them long to get the broken bales of hay off the field. Zane drove, and Jude and Quincy threw them onto a trailer in heaps. Quincy would use the hay to feed his paints. They already had three barns full of square bales and many round bales stored away. Since it was the beginning of September, hay-baling season was almost over.
Zane drove the tractor into Quincy’s barn, and Quincy and Jude jumped from the trailer to unload.
“Sorry, Quincy.” Jude removed his hat to shake hay from his hair. “We have to meet Zane’s teacher in less than an hour.”
“Aw, Dad.”
“I got it,” he told his brother. He welcomed the work, anything to get his mind off Jenny.
Just as he started to stack the hay, Elias and Jericho walked in.
Quincy straightened. “Is all hay off the ground?”
“Yes, sir.” Elias saluted. Of the seven brothers, Elias had a devil-may-care attitude that came with a dose of spit-in-your-eye.
Jericho grabbed a pitchfork. “I’ll help you stack.”
Jericho had saved his brother Egan’s life in prison and for that Kate Rebel had offered him a job. He was Egan’s friend, but now he was a friend of the family. They didn’t know much about Jericho, nor did they need to. He had more than proved himself to the family.
He stood about six-four and was an imposing character with dark features, long hair tied into a ponytail at his neck and a scar slashed across the side of his face. No one knew his nationality, but Egan said he was part white, black, Mexican and Indian. He’d grown up on the streets of Houston, involved in gangs and drugs. Today Quincy would trust the man with his life and the lives of his brothers. He had completely turned his life around.
Elias grabbed a pitchfork, too. “Can you believe ol’ Pax’s getting married? A bull must have dumped him on his head. Why get married when he has the pick of every pretty buckle bunny on the circuit?”
Quincy worked without answering. He didn’t want to have this discussion.
“And Jenny? I wonder if he’s told Jenny.”
“That’s none of our business.”
Elias leaned on the pitchfork. “There’s going to be fireworks, I tell you. Jenny Walker is not going to take this without a fight and I have a front-row seat. Oh, yeah. I see a catfight in Pax’s future.”
Again, Quincy didn’t respond. They finished unloading the hay and Quincy started to jump onto the tractor to take it back to the equipment shed, but Jericho stopped him.
“I got it, Quincy. Mr. Abe is probably waiting on his supper.”
“Thanks, Rico.”
As Rico drove the tractor and trailer from the barn, Quincy brushed hay from his clothes. It stung down the back of his shirt and clung in sweat-slick places. He needed a shower.
“I’ll see you at the house,” he said to Elias.
He and Elias lived with their Grandpa Abe, who was getting up in years and at times appeared to be a little senile. They refused to let him use the stove anymore because he’d set the house on fire twice. These days Grandpa was happy to let Quincy or Elias do all the cooking. Eden, Falcon’s daughter, helped out when she could.
There were four houses on the property. Their mother, Jude and Zane lived in the big two-story log house at the front. Falcon’s wife had returned after many years, and they now lived in the old family home where Quincy, Elias and Egan used to live. Falcon and Leah had wanted their own house, so the brothers had happily relocated to Grandpa’s. Egan had gotten married and moved out. Now Quincy and Elias were left to deal with the old man.
Grandpa’s place wasn’t far from the old house, and then there was the bunkhouse where Paxton, Phoenix and Jericho lived. They had a commune right there in Texas. The thought brought a smile to his face and he wasn’t in a smiling mood.
So many women in the world and he had to fall in love with the one woman he couldn’t have. The only way to get over it was to stay away from Jenny. And he planned to do just that.
* * *
QUINCY OPENED THE gate in the old chain-link fence and walked up the steps of the white-board house his grandfather had built for his wife many years ago. It had been redone over the years and held many memories.
Mutt, Grandpa’s dog, wasn’t on the front porch to greet him. Quincy couldn’t remember how old the dog was, but he now had arthritis and didn’t leave the yard. He was an outdoor dog and only came inside when it was cold. And he didn’t like it then. He had a bed on the front porch and the back.
Opening the front door, he heard the TV. Loud. Grandpa was losing some of his hearing. He sat in his recliner, Mutt on his lap, watching an old Western.
Grandpa, with thinning gray hair, stooped shoulders and bowlegs, was about the orneriest character you’d ever want to meet. But he was fiercely loyal and devoted to his grandsons, as they were to him.
“What’s wrong with Mutt?”
Grandpa stroked the small black-and-white mixed breed dog. “I guess he’s just lonely.”
Quincy felt a tug on his heart, for he knew that was Grandpa’s way of saying he was lonely. He usually spent time with them on the ranch, but today he’d been absent. Maybe Grandpa was feeling bad.
“Are you okay?”
“Healthy as a horse,” Grandpa replied. “I knew you’d be tired so I put baked potatoes in the oven and there’s steaks in the sink you can do on the grill.”
“Thanks. I’ll take a shower first. I’m sweaty and I’ve got hay all over me.”
“Suit yourself. Where’s Elias?”
“He’s on his way.”
“He better hurry up. Those potatoes’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
Grandpa was in an unusual mood this evening. It wasn’t like him to plan supper. On second thought, Quincy went into the kitchen to check on things. The potatoes, wrapped in aluminum foil, were sitting on top of the stove. Quincy shook his head, placed them inside and turned on the oven. The steaks were thawing in the sink. That was good.
After taking a shower and changing clothes, he seasoned the steaks and placed them in the refrigerator and then went outside to the back porch to clean the grill.
He kept waiting for Elias to show up, but as usual, Elias was dragging his heels. Quincy sat in the living room with his grandfather watching the Western. Suddenly, Grandpa turned off the TV.
“What do you think about Paxton?” Grandpa asked.
Not again. Why was everyone asking him that question?
He rubbed his hands together. “None of my business.”
Grandpa pointed a finger at him. “You need to find yourself a woman.”
Quincy groaned. This was Grandpa’s standard lecture to his grandsons. Find a woman, get married, have babies and be happy. Sometimes it just didn’t happen like that.
“And not Jenny Walker,” Grandpa added for effect, and he had Quincy’s attention.
He didn’t know, did he? He couldn’t.
His eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that?”
“She’s over here all the time and it’s not to see Paxton, because he’s not here. She comes to see you.”
“She likes the paints and she’s good with them. I don’t have a problem with that because I’m busy on the ranch.”
“Not all the time, so don’t fool yourself, boy. I’ve seen the way you look at her, and that’s just asking for trouble. You’re a Rebel and you never cross that line. There’s a lot of lines us Rebels have crossed, but we don’t go after our brothers’
girlfriends. Not even if they’re an ex.”
Elias stomped in, preventing Quincy from answering, and he was grateful for that small act. For the first time, he didn’t know how to respond to his grandfather. He thought he’d kept his secret hidden. If his grandfather could gauge his feelings about Jenny, how many other family members had?
Did they all know he loved Jenny Walker?
Chapter Two
Jenny sat on the back stoop watching a cow stick her head through the barbed-wire fence to reach the green grass in the yard that Jenny had watered. The grass was always greener on the other side. That was how Paxton felt. He’d found someone better than Jenny and she had to bite the bullet and accept it.
The back door opened and her sister, Lindsay, sat down beside her. “What are you doing out here? It’s hot.”
Jenny was so upset, she hadn’t even noticed her skin felt as if she’d taken a bath in honey. Sticky. All she was aware of was the hollow ache in her stomach. “Thinking.”
“Come on, Jenny. You have to have seen this coming. You haven’t heard from Paxton in months.”
“Seven weeks. That’s how long it took him to fall in love with someone else.”
“You have to get past this. There are a lot of guys out there who would be more than eager to go out with you.”
“I’ve spent half my life waiting for Paxton and now I just feel like a horse without a bridle. I’m free, but I don’t know which way to turn without Paxton.”
“This isn’t like you. What else is going on?”
The cow pushed on the barbed wire and Jenny was afraid the fence would break. She got up to shoo her away. When something around the ranch broke, Jenny and Lindsay were the ones to fix it. Their dad had had a tractor accident some years ago and now had a gimpy leg and walked with a cane. He still had cattle, but some things were hard for him to do, and having no sons, his daughters picked up the slack.
She and Lindsay were both nurses and worked in a hospital in Temple. Lindsay was director of nursing and didn’t work on the floor anymore. Her job was stressful and she spent a lot of hours at the hospital, including weekends if there was a problem.
Jenny was a pre-op nurse, the one who prepared a patient for surgery, took vitals, dealt with consent forms, started an IV, calmed nerves and answered questions. Working three twelve-hour days was a challenge, but it gave her a lot of free time at home with her dad. Sometimes she was called back for extra duty. Since Lindsay was in charge, that didn’t happen too often.
She resumed her seat by her sister.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Jenny shrugged. “I forgot what it was.”
“You’re really down about something other than Paxton. What is it?”
They were four years apart and very close, and Jenny knew she could talk about anything with Lindsay. But her sister tended to be bossy and sometimes that grated on Jenny’s nerves. She needed to talk, though. She wiped the palms of her hands down her jeans. “I went over to talk to Quincy to see if he knew anything about Paxton and the engagement.”
“And?”
Jenny swallowed. “He was rude to me.”
“What?” She poked Jenny in the shoulder. “Get out of here. That doesn’t sound like Quincy. You probably were just upset and misunderstood him.”
“No. It was very clear what he said.”
“And what would that be?”
“He said that Paxton’s fiancée was going to be staying for a while and it would be best for everyone if I didn’t come back to Rebel Ranch.”
“You’re joking.”
“I wish I was.”
“After all the work you put in on his horses—for free, I might add—he’s got some nerve.”
“I’ll have to return White Dove.”
“The paint he gave you? You love that horse.”
The ache in Jenny’s chest ballooned into something she didn’t understand. All she knew was that it hurt that Quincy had treated her as he never had before. She couldn’t keep the horse he’d given her for her birthday. A birthday that Paxton had forgotten. Funny, how that little detail still stung. She would have to find the strength to return the horse.
“Keep her. Quincy would want you to have White Dove, unless he asked you to return her.”
“No, he didn’t say that, but it’s clear I’m not welcome at the ranch anymore.”
“Let me get this straight. Are you upset that someone is taking your place with Paxton? Or are you upset that Quincy asked you not to return to Rebel Ranch?”
Jenny didn’t know, and that was why she was so confused and conflicted. She’d expected some consolation from Quincy, someone to understand how she felt. But what was she expecting? That he would side with her over his family? That was insane. The Rebels were fiercely loyal.
Lindsay got to her feet. “Let’s go check the water troughs and then we’ll open that bottle of wine we’ve been saving and toast good ol’ Paxton and his new love. Ten bucks she’s a blonde with fake boobs.”
A smile tugged at Jenny’s lips. Her sister sometimes had a fun side. Getting to her feet, she said, “You’re on. But we’ll probably never get to see her.”
“Yeah. That’s probably best.”
Was it? Like Quincy had said, Jenny just couldn’t let it go. She had to see Paxton face-to-face to end this relationship that had existed for over fifteen years. She couldn’t end it by just walking away. That wasn’t in her nature. Paxton Rebel was going to deal with her one way or another, and she didn’t care if Quincy liked it or not.
* * *
QUINCY DIDN’T SLEEP MUCH. His mind was caught in a vortex of Paxton’s crazy life, and like Grandpa had said, there were some things a brother didn’t do. Tortured by his own feelings, he got up at five to help Falcon, Egan and Jericho put meat on the pit for the barbecue that evening.
His mom had invited all of Paxton’s friends from high school and some from the rodeo circuit. It was going to be a big night. Quincy was hoping he could slip away for a while and miss the whole thing. That would be his kind of party.
About midmorning, he and Elias set up tables and chairs on the large deck off the den. His mom and Falcon were busy in the kitchen. Falcon was making his special barbecue sauce.
Eden and Rachel, Egan’s wife, put tablecloths and votive candles on the tables. Quincy wondered where the bride-to-be was. She and Paxton had come in late last night, but no one had met her except their mother. He supposed she was sleeping in.
He and Elias were headed to the kitchen when they heard a feminine voice.
“Is anyone here?”
Quincy looked to the top of the stairs, as did Elias. A tall blonde stood there in white shorts and a bright green top that barely covered her ample breasts. Long, straight blond hair flowed down her back. Model flashed across his mind, like a woman in one of those lingerie catalogs. Paxton’s fiancée was gorgeous.
“Damn, is that her?” Elias asked. “I think I just met my fantasy.”
She floated down the stairs as if she was on a runway. Stopping two steps from the bottom, she held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Lisa Garber. Paxton’s fiancée.”
Elias removed his hat and bowed from the waist. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am. I’m Elias, Paxton’s brother.”
“Yes, Paxton said he had six brothers.”
“And you’ll get to meet every one of us.”
“I’m so excited,” she gushed like a little girl. “I’ve never been on a ranch and I can’t wait to meet everyone.”
Elias thumbed toward Quincy. “This here’s Quincy, another brother.”
Lisa fanned her face. “My, so many handsome brothers. What’s a girl to do?”
“Nice to meet you,” Quincy said, and wondered what it was about the woman that annoyed him. I
t didn’t take long for him to figure it out. Her voice, sort of a sugary squeal that could get real tedious. When a woman looked like Lisa, though, the voice didn’t matter. He was sure Paxton would agree.
“Have you seen Paxton?” she asked.
“Isn’t he upstairs with you?” Elias nodded upstairs.
Lisa leaned over and whispered, “Your mother wouldn’t let us sleep together in her house. That’s really old-fashioned, but Paxton said we had to follow her rules and I didn’t want to make waves. I really missed my Teddy Bear.”
Elias laughed before he could stop himself and then coughed and tried to cover it up.
“I’m sure he’s at the bunkhouse,” Quincy told her.
“Oh, is that where the cowboys live?”
“Sort of.”
Quincy had a suspicious feeling Paxton hadn’t told this woman a thing about his life, except that he was a rodeo cowboy who lived in Texas on a big ranch.
Paxton came through from the kitchen, interrupting the conversation. Quincy and Elias stared. It wasn’t often they saw Paxton dressed up. He wore starched jeans and a white starched shirt and his hair was slicked back. Quincy could swear he smelled cologne.
A fun and exciting bull rider, and a ladies’ man to boot, Paxton could smooth talk any woman into anything he wanted.
“Hey, babe.” He took Lisa into his arms and they shared a long kiss.
“There’s a bedroom upstairs,” Elias said with a snicker in his voice.
Paxton turned to them. “Quincy, talk to Mom about her rules. I don’t want to sleep away from Lisa.”
Quincy shrugged. “Her house. Her rules. You can always sleep in the bun—”
“That’s okay,” Paxton cut him off, and Quincy knew his brother had definitely not told Lisa where he really lived. But that wasn’t his problem and Quincy was going with his plan to get away from the party as soon as he could.