The Texan Quartet (Books 1-4) Omnibus

by Claire Boston

  Remembering the articles she’d written for Tai, she sent him an email with them attached, explaining why she’d written two and asking which one he wanted her to run with. She’d let him decide.

  Then she headed home. She could easily work from there.

  By the time the day’s deadline passed, Piper had all her stories in and was exhausted. She didn’t want to have to write three more profiles but if she didn’t do it, she wouldn’t get the chance tomorrow.

  She ordered Chinese delivery, poured a glass of wine and went back to the kitchen table. She’d start with Russell. He would be the easiest to write and right now she needed easy.

  ***

  It was midnight before Piper pressed save on her final article. They weren’t her best work, but her head just wasn’t in it. She’d read over them again in the morning when her brain had refreshed, and polish them some more.

  Her inbox pinged. It was an email from Tai: he wanted her to run the fluff piece.

  The one decent article she’d written for the whole series, where she was actually proud of its content, and he wanted to go with the crappy version.

  The anger that had been swirling around her stomach all day started a steady simmer. She dialed the restaurant number, not expecting it to be answered but needing to try.

  “The Wooden Spoon,” Tai answered smoothly.

  “You really want me to run the fluff piece?” she asked him.

  “Piper. I didn’t think you’d still be up.”

  It was a good point. And it applied to him too – the restaurant would have closed reasonably early on a Monday night. “Why are you?” she asked.

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  Her anger morphed into surprise at the admission. “Why not?”

  “Things on my mind,” he deflected smoothly. “What did you want?”

  That’s right, she was cross with him. “Why do you want me to publish the fluff piece? It says next to nothing about the good you’re doing for your tribe.”

  “I don’t need to brag about it,” he said.

  “But you deserve to be acknowledged. People need to learn about what is happening so things can begin to change.”

  “Piper, no one wants to know about it. If you publish the second article people will read it and make comments about the amount of hand-outs my people receive, about how it’s about time we did things for ourselves and that there are starving children in Africa we should be focusing on.” His voice was firm and confident.

  “How do you know?”

  “Check out these websites,” Tai said and named them. Piper wrote them down and typed the first one into her search engine.

  It was an indigenous American blog calling for the removal of racist stereotypical sports-team mascots. She speed read the first post which was really interesting and then got down to the comments section. Her heart sank. The amount of vitriol directed at the blogger was astounding.

  “Do you understand now?”

  “Yeah.” But surely it had to change and the only way it would was if people kept talking about it. “Don’t you believe we can change things?”

  He sighed. “Not tonight.”

  There was sadness in his tone that made Piper forget her anger. “What happened today?” she asked.

  He was quiet. “One of the tribe died.” There was grief in his voice.

  Piper gasped, her hand coming to her chest. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  Another long pause. “Do you remember the last house we stopped at yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “The grandfather, Jerry, died.”

  Piper’s heart went out to Tai and to the child. “How’s the boy?” He’d been a sweet thing.

  “Devastated. He’s staying with Ka’ sa’.”

  Eyota would take care of him: Piper was sure of it. “How did he die?” He’d looked healthy enough yesterday, but heart attacks came with little warning sometimes.

  The answer came as a tortured whisper. “Suicide.”

  The shock was sharp. Was that why Tai had gone into the house first?

  Piper had no words, nothing to comfort him with, but his pain came through her phone. He shouldn’t be alone with this. He was suffering.

  She grabbed her bag and locked the door behind her. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, keeping her tone gentle as she started her car, and switched to hands free.

  “There’s nothing to say. Bradley came home and found the note and, instead of going for help, went to find him.” There was a little bit of anger in with the grief. Whether it was for the grandfather or the boy, she didn’t know.

  The little boy had found his grandfather. She didn’t ask what method of suicide Jerry had chosen – it didn’t really matter. He was dead and an eight-year-old had found him.

  She pushed the accelerator closer to the floor.

  “The note was meant for his counselor, who was due this afternoon, but the counselor was running late. Bradley skipped the afternoon classes and arrived first. It was the counselor who found Bradley with the body.”

  Piper eased into a parking lot in front of the Wooden Spoon. She switched her phone over and hurried around to the back entrance. She knocked on the door.

  “There’s someone at the door,” Tai said, sounding confused.

  “It’s me. Let me in.”

  “No. I’m fine. You didn’t need to come.”

  “Open the door, Tai.” She kept her voice steady, and spoke with authority, hoping he would do as she asked.

  A dial tone buzzed in her ear and she hung up, waiting, watching the door.

  Chapter 7

  She breathed a sigh of relief as the locks clunked. The door opened and Tai stood there, his eyes red and shadowed, his shoulders hunched. Her heart clenched as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

  He hissed in a breath, shutting the door, and then he hugged her back, his body shaking.

  Piper’s heart broke for him as he began to sob. She ran a hand up and down his back, soothing him the best she could. This sensitive man was carrying so much on his shoulders.

  They stood there for five minutes or more before Tai pulled back. He wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands and stared at her as if coming back to his senses. He looked horrified.

  Piper gave him a small smile, patted his back and then walked into the kitchen, giving him some space to recover. He didn’t like to show he was human.

  The kitchen was a mess. There were pots simmering on the stove and the ovens were on. Aromas filled the air and there was enough food to feed an army.

  “It’s all for the wake,” he said as he glanced around the kitchen, running a hand through his hair.

  Piper filled a glass with water and handed it to him. He took it without a word. It was way too bright in here; the lights were glaring. She went over to the stove. “Is it done?”

  He nodded.

  She turned it off and then took his hand, leading him into the restaurant, which was dark except for the dim security lighting. She pulled out a chair and gently pushed him into it. “Feeling any better?”

  “I’m not sure.” He was cautious, confused. “I didn’t mean to …”

  “But you needed to.” Piper said. The grief was eating him up.

  “He knew I visited every Sunday. He knew I went in before Bradley.”

  That was why Tai had left Bradley outside – because he knew Jerry was a suicide risk. Tai’s selflessness was amazing. It would be horrific to find someone who had committed suicide.

  “Perhaps he didn’t want you to find him either,” she said. “You were his friend.”

  “But I’ve done it before.” His eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut.

  He’d done what before? Found someone who had committed suicide? She lowered herself onto the chair next to him. It was hardly a common occurrence, but he’d clammed up again, so maybe it was true. She couldn’t even fathom it. She squeezed his hand. “Perhaps Jerry wanted the counselor to fi
nd him so he didn’t hurt you or Bradley.”

  “The poor kid.”

  “Eyota will be caring for him,” Piper said.

  “She knows what to say.”

  How could she? How could anyone really know what to say to a person who had found a body?

  “Are you going home?” she asked.

  “I’ll drive there tomorrow with Adahy and Rayen. I need to call Kath first and clear it with her.”

  From what Piper knew of the sous chef, it wouldn’t be an issue. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “I don’t know if there’s anything anyone can do,” he said. “I’ve been trying so hard.” He wasn’t talking about this one death.

  “And you’ve been succeeding.” Her words were so inadequate, but she had to make him understand. “You have a great turn out at your classes and everyone loves you.” She cupped his face. “Not everyone wants to be saved.” She said it as gently as she could, keeping her gaze on his. She wanted to kiss him better, and make all the bad things go away.

  Giving in to temptation, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, lightly, gently.

  He tasted like coffee and his lips were surprisingly soft. She’d expected them to be hard and demanding, unyielding, but they relaxed and he kissed her back.

  An oven timer beeped loudly in the quiet night.

  Tai broke the kiss, his eyes wide. “I can’t do this, not now.” He sounded as sorry as she felt.

  Her body was incredibly warm, but she stood up. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  Tai smiled for the first time that evening and it lifted Piper’s heart. He stood up. “I’m not, but I need to get home. Adahy and Rayen might need me.”

  Of course they would. This death would affect them all. Piper took his hand and they walked back out to the kitchen. “Do they know where you are?”

  “Yeah. I needed to be alone.” He turned to her. “Thank you for coming.” He squeezed her hand.

  She pressed up on her toes and kissed him. “Any time.” She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet. He was definitely brighter than he had been, but the sorrow was drifting back across his face. “Can I give you a lift home?”

  “I’ve got my bike.” He turned off the timer and took the meal out of the oven. The smell was warm and comforting.

  “Should you be driving right now?”

  “I’ll be fine.” He transferred the food into plastic containers, sealing each and carrying them to the coolroom. “You should go,” he said when he turned on the tap to run water in the sink. “It’s late.”

  It was, but she wasn’t going to leave him there by himself so he could sink down low again. Plus the rest of the kitchen needed cleaning. She grabbed a dish towel. “If I dry we’ll be faster.”

  He hesitated and then agreed.

  They worked as a team, dishing the food into containers and then cleaning the pots and pans. When the kitchen was once again spotless, Tai went into his office; he turned off his computer and the lights on his way out.

  He was quiet again. Piper didn’t want him to be alone. She waited for him by the door as he did his nighttime checks, making sure everything was turned off and locked up.

  “Maybe you should go to Adahy’s so you’re not alone.”

  Tai gave a small smile. “Adahy and Rayen live with me. They’ll be home when I get there.”

  “Oh.” It was a relief to know he wasn’t going to be by himself.

  Outside after he locked up, he asked, “Where are you parked?”

  “Out front.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” he said, taking hold of her hand.

  She smiled and let him walk her to her car. At the door he kissed her again.

  “Call me if you need anything,” she said. “Even just to chat.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be thinking about you even if I don’t get a chance to call.”

  Her insides went all squishy. She slid into her car and waved goodbye. Pulling out of the parking lot she watched him in her rear-view mirror until he turned and walked back toward his bike.

  Their relationship had definitely changed.

  ***

  Tai woke with a weight in his mind, but reasonably refreshed. He’d fallen into a deep sleep when he’d finally got to bed the night before after assuring his brother and cousin he was all right.

  And surprisingly he was.

  He grieved for Bradley, and alternatively felt anger and grief for Jerry, but Piper had soothed some part of him that needed to be soothed. When he was with her, he didn’t need to carry the weight of his tribe on his shoulders. When he was with her he didn’t need to keep up a pretense of being strong. With her, he could just be.

  It was an incredible gift.

  He called Kath and told her what had happened.

  “Take as many days as you need. We’ll be fine here.”

  Tai was lucky to have her. He had no doubt she would take care of everything. “Thank you.”

  “No problem, Chef. Call me if you need anything.”

  He hung up and moved through to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine. Rayen and Adahy weren’t up yet: as he walked past his brother’s room snores echoed through the door. There was no need to rush to the reservation, nothing was going to change, but he wanted to be there for Bradley.

  He knocked on both doors. “I’m heading out in thirty minutes,” he called and received groans in response.

  He made three mugs of coffee, leaving Adahy’s and Rayen’s on the table, and took his own out to the back garden.

  When he’d decided to buy a house, he’d searched until he found one with a big garden. He needed space and he needed to surround himself with trees. This yard had a lot of trees, blocking him from his neighbors’ views, and he’d added some of his own which would take years before they were fully grown. Eyota had potted up some of the plants found on the reservation and had planted them for him as well. It was enough to remind him of home, and keep from missing it too much.

  He sipped his coffee, walking slowly through the yard, brushing some leaves with his hands, bending down to smell the flowers. He needed to prepare himself for the day. It was going to be hard, it was going to be emotional, and he needed to keep himself together. He shouldn’t have stayed up so late, though he didn’t regret it. If he’d left earlier, Piper never would have come.

  No, he’d needed time to process, and he’d been fighting it, by cooking for the wake, and answering all his emails so he didn’t need to think about what had happened, about the life that had been lost.

  Then Piper had called, all mad about his decision to go with the fluff piece, and somehow she’d known something else was wrong. He hadn’t meant to tell her, but it had slipped out. And she had cared enough to come.

  He sighed, finishing his lap of the garden, and walked into the kitchen where Rayen and Adahy were nursing their coffees.

  “Your phone beeped,” Adahy said, gesturing to where it sat on the bench.

  Tai picked it up. A message from Piper.

  Thinking of you. xx

  He tucked his phone into his pocket.

  “What was it?” Adahy asked, his expression suspicious. “You’re smiling.”

  “It’s from a friend, and none of your business,” he said. “I’m going to call Ka’ sa’.”

  It stopped Adahy prying further. He didn’t want to tell anyone about Piper yet. He didn’t even know what there was to tell.

  He dialed his grandmother’s number. “How is he?” he asked when she answered.

  “He’s gone quiet. When will you be here?”

  “We’re getting ready now,” Tai told her.

  “Good.”

  He hung up. Adahy and Rayen had already got to their feet. Rayen headed for the shower while Adahy cleaned the dishes.

  “Bad?” he asked.

  Tai shrugged. “Bradley’s not talking.” It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes he didn’t feel like talking either. “We need to stop by the
restaurant on the way out to pick up the food.”

  “That’s what you were doing last night?” Adahy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, we won’t have to worry about starving.” His brother smiled and Tai knew it was his attempt to lighten the mood.

  He wiped down the table. When Rayen came out again, her eyes were red. She’d been crying. He opened his arms for her and she dove in.

  “It’s not fair, Tai. I don’t understand why he did it. He was Bradley’s only hope.”

  Tai refused to believe it. “Ka’ sa’ will watch over him.”

  “But to have to live with his father … The man doesn’t know where he is half the time, and he lives twice as far away from the school. Bradley can’t walk that far.”

  It would all depend on whether Bradley’s father claimed his right to be Bradley’s guardian. There wasn’t a lot they could do if he did.

  “We’ll work something out.” He added it to his never-ending list.

  Adahy came into the kitchen. “Ready to go?”

  They all piled into Adahy’s small hatchback and, after stopping at the restaurant, made their way to the reservation.

  ***

  When they arrived at Eyota’s house people were already gathered to give their condolences to Bradley. Bradley sat on the couch with his arms crossed, staring at a spot on the carpet, and said nothing.

  Tai went to his grandmother first. “Anyone told Carl yet?” he asked.

  “Scott went out there first thing this morning. He wasn’t very lucid.”

  Meaning Bradley’s father was still on a high or coming down from his latest one.

  “I’ll go out there if he hasn’t shown up by lunchtime.” He walked over to the couch and stood in front of Bradley. The boy was only eight and he appeared smaller, skinnier than he had on Sunday, as if he’d drawn in on himself, as if he were protecting himself from the world.

  Tai knew that feeling. “You want to go for a walk?”

  Bradley’s mouth opened and he scrambled to his feet.

  Tai ignored the others who were gathered there. They weren’t talking to Bradley anyway. If anything they were talking at him.

  He walked into the forest with Bradley by his side, and when they came to a fork he let Bradley choose which way to go. They walked slowly, Bradley kicking sticks on the path or running his hands over plants that grew close. Tai was content to walk. Bradley would talk when he was ready.