by Jan Hudson
“She’s the veterinarian.”
“Right. And she’s also Gabe’s sister. I think one of the Naconiche cousins and his wife will be there, or maybe two of them.”
“Two of who?”
“Two of the cousins. Three of the Outlaw brothers live in Naconiche, but they don’t usually come all at one time. There’s J.J., the sheriff, whose name is Jesse James Outlaw, Judge Frank James Outlaw and the homicide cop turned professor, Cole Younger Outlaw. And assorted wives and children will be there, depending on who shows up.”
“I hope I can get them all sorted out.”
Cass laughed as she hit the open road and floored it. The scarf that had been holding her ponytail went flying behind them, but she didn’t stop for it. “Sometimes I can’t keep them all straight. Hold the wheel for a minute.”
“What the—” Griff grabbed the steering wheel while she caught her whipping hair in a rubber band.
“Thanks.”
“Do you get many tickets?” he asked.
“For what?”
“Speeding, reckless driving, that sort of thing.”
She laughed. “Never. Don’t tell me you’re one of those nervous nellies.” No sooner were the words out her mouth than she saw red-and-blue flashing lights behind her.
Griff merely lifted his eyebrows.
Cursing her big mouth and her heavy foot, Cass pulled over. When she looked in her rearview mirror and got a glimpse of the state trooper exiting his car, she bit back a grin. When he walked up to her window, the grin broke loose. “Hey, Paul. Long time, no see.”
His eyes widened, then his grin matched hers. “Cass? Sunny?”
“The former. How are you doing these days?”
“I’m doing fine, Cass. I see you’re still driving like a bat out of hell.”
She shrugged. “I’m just so glad to be back in Texas, my old habits got the best of me. How are your mama and daddy?”
“They’re doing fine. Daddy says he’s going to retire next year.” The trooper glanced over at Griff and touched the brim of his cowboy hat.
“Paul, this is Griff Mitchell. Griff, Paul used to live down the street from us when we were growing up. Sunny and I used to babysit him.”
Griff only nodded.
“We’re on our way to Wimberley to celebrate my cousins’ anniversary,” Cass told Paul. “One of them is a Texas Ranger. You may know him. Sam Outlaw.”
“Hell, yes, I know Sam. I didn’t know he was married. And I didn’t know he was your cousin.”
She nodded. “He is. And Sunny’s engaged to another Ranger. Ben McKee.”
“You don’t say. Don’t believe I’ve met him. Tell her hello for me. Listen, Cass, I’m going to give you a pass this time, but I’m going to follow along on your tail for a bit to keep you honest.”
She gave him her most dazzling smile. “Thanks, Paul. I appreciate it.”
When she pulled away, Griff said, “Do you know everybody in this part of Texas?”
Cass laughed. “Seems that way sometimes. You have to remember the Austin I grew up in was more small town than big city. And folks I didn’t know from school or the neighborhood I knew from Chili Witches. Everybody in town ate there or worked there at one time or another.”
She watched her speed until she reached Dripping Springs and turned left toward Wimberley. Paul waved and continued straight on Highway 290. She honked and returned his wave.
“Are you going to start speeding again now?” Griff asked.
“I’ve always been a maverick,” she said with a devilish smile.
GRIFF SAT BACK AND enjoyed the ride and the view—of both the countryside and the driver. Cass Outlaw was indeed a maverick. Not only was she extremely attractive, she also had a sharp mind, a charming wit and an unpretentious warmth. She was like no woman he’d ever met, and she intrigued the hell out of him.
He couldn’t imagine any young lawyer tossing a fast track career with such a prestigious law firm in New York and returning to Texas to serve chili. It didn’t compute. The firm had been very pleased with her work—he’d talked with one of the partners at Baylor Croft & Wiggins—and they had offered her incentives to stay. He wondered if there had been another reason for her leaving besides simply wanting to get back to Austin. What had caused her to now hotly disdain her chosen profession?
“A dollar for your thoughts,” Cass said.
“I was wondering how you could have avoided a speeding ticket all these years.”
She laughed but didn’t ease off the accelerator. “I fibbed a tiny bit. But I haven’t had many. In Texas we can take a defensive driving course, and any moving traffic violation won’t go on your record.”
“How many times have you taken the course?”
“A few.” She slowed a bit. “Wimberley is just ahead. It’s a charming little town with lots of artistic types. In fact Gabe and Skye’s mother is a painter and owns a gallery downtown. Skye’s father was a well-known potter.”
“Gabe and Skye had different fathers?”
“Yes. Gabe’s father was originally from Wimberley, and he inherited property from his grandparents. As I recall, his father died in an accident when he was very young and his mother, Flora, married Skye’s father, the potter, and they moved to Wimberley. It took me a while to get it all sorted out as well.”
“What does Gabe do?” Griff asked.
“I believe he’s in real estate and insurance,” she said. She turned off the highway and, after a bit, turned in to a gated area with a guard.
“Hi, Pete. We’re expected.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The big man smiled and touched the brim of his ball cap. “Your sister and her party came through a little while ago. Just drive on up to the helicopter pad, and Gabe will be back to pick you up in a little bit.”
“Thanks, Pete.” Cass roared off along a winding road.
“We’re going by helicopter?” Griff asked.
“Looks like it.”
They drove past a pasture with horses, a large house and various outbuildings, until they reached an area where several cars were parked. Obviously, Gabe Burrell was quite successful. Cass’s sister, Sunny, sat on the fender of an SUV. A man nearby was giving a small boy a boost up a tree. All three waved as they pulled up and parked.
“We’re going to ride in a helicopter!” the boy shouted, pointing to the pad.
“I know,” Cass said. “Won’t that be fun?” She introduced Griff to Sam McKee, Sunny’s fiancé, and Jay, his son.
“Jimmy and Janey are already here,” Jay said. “And another one of their cousins. The little kids didn’t come.”
“Who did come?” Cass asked Sunny.
“As I understand,” she said, “Frank and Carrie stayed in Naconiche to babysit the younger children so that everybody else could make it.”
“Look,” Jay shouted, pointing at the sky.
A sleek blue chopper hovered over their area, then set down on the pad. The boy jumped up and down with excitement, and his father could hardly restrain him until the door opened.
The pilot, a smiling blond man about Griff’s age, motioned them aboard. Everybody ducked under the blades and loaded onto the craft. Griff brought up the rear, admiring Cass’s lovely long legs and shapely butt as she climbed in ahead of him.
“Gabe Burrell,” the pilot shouted, offering Griff his hand. “Welcome to the celebration.”
“Thanks. Griff Mitchell. Sweet machine you have.”
“Just traded up for it. She’s a honey. Fasten your seat belts, and let’s go see the bluebonnets.”
When everyone was secure, Gabe lifted off and swung south over rolling hills dotted here and there with color. Nice view, Griff thought, but hardly spectacular. A few minutes later, he had to retract that when they topped a rise and a valley of blue seemed to stretch for miles.
“Wow!” he said.
“Indeed,” Cass said, speaking loudly over the roar of the engine. “Gabe helped Mother Nature along. He scattered thousands
of seeds here to make sure we had a good showing this year.”
They made two circles, then set down in a field of blue flowers a short distance away from a canopy set up by a winding stream. Several people were standing outside waving.
“Talk about a photo op,” Griff said. “And I didn’t bring my camera.”
“I did,” Cass told him. “I’ll share pictures.” She pulled a camera from her bag and began snapping the moment she stepped off the helicopter. Then she grabbed his hand, “Come on, and I’ll introduce you to everybody. Uncle Wes! Aunt Nonie!” she yelled, waving. “Hi, everybody!”
Trotting along behind her, Griff met the gray-haired couple who were the former sheriff of Naconiche and his wife, a retired schoolteacher who now ran an ice cream parlor on the town square.
“Griff, this is J.J. and Mary Beth. J.J. is the sheriff of Naconiche and Mary Beth owns the Twilight Inn and Tearoom.”
Griff shook hands with the tall, dark-haired J.J. and nodded to his pretty blonde wife. They exchanged a few words. Soon another couple joined them—Cole, who was even taller than J.J., and a former cop who had turned to college teaching, and his wife Kelly Martin-Outlaw.
“Kelly’s a doctor,” Cass told Griff. “Actually, we have several doctors in the family, but she’s a medical doctor. Cole is a Ph.D. and teaches criminal justice, and Skye is a vet. Where is Skye?”
“She and Sam are driving over from San Antonio,” Cole said. “They should be here any minute.”
“Speak of the devil,” J.J. said, pointing toward a vehicle coming down the lane. “Here they are. Griff, you want a beer?”
“Sure.”
“Cooler’s this way. Come on, Cole, let’s get this guy a beer.” J.J. slapped an arm around Griff’s shoulders and steered him toward the canopy.
Along the way, a tall dark-haired woman stopped them. “Hello,” she said, smiling and offering her hand. “You must be Griff. I’m Belle Outlaw Burrell, sister to these brutes. Welcome to my bluebonnet farm.”
“This is your place?” Griff asked.
“Sure is. Gabe’s wedding present to me. Isn’t it beautiful? We were married here, along with Sam and Skye.”
“Happy anniversary,” Griff said.
“Thanks, I—”
“We don’t have time to chitchat now, sis,” J.J. said. “We’re headed for the beer before Sam gets to it and drinks it all up.”
Belle laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry. We have enough for a large army. Where’s Flora?”
“I haven’t seen her,” Cole said. “Did she come with you?” he asked Griff.
“Who’s Flora?” Griff asked, trying to keep everybody straight.
“Gabe and Skye’s mother.”
He shook his head. “She wasn’t in our group.”
“She’s not terribly fond of flying,” Belle said. “I think she and Suki must be driving out from the ranch with the rest of the food.”
“Belle,” J.J. said. “Beer.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” She made a sweep of her hand toward the coolers.
Cole plunged a big hand into the ice and pulled out three cans, popped the tops and handed them out.
“Save some for me,” a man yelled, coming toward them.
J.J. retrieved another beer and tossed it toward the approaching man, who was dressed, like the others, in jeans and a T-shirt.
He was obviously an Outlaw brother. They all looked remarkably similar. Tall, dark-haired and handsome. And tough looking. Cole, the professor, was the toughest looking of the lot.
“Griff,” J.J. said, “this tall drink of water is our baby brother, Sam. He’s the Lone Ranger.”
“Texas Ranger to you, snot-face.” He stuck out his hand and grinned. “Good to meet you, Griff. That’s my wife, Skye, talking to Sunny and Cass.”
“Griff,” the professor said, “what line are you in?”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“From New York?”
“That’s right. But my mother was born in Dallas.”
J.J. grinned. “Well, looky there. You got some good blood going for you.”
“What kind of law do you practice?” Cole asked.
Feeling strongly like a teenager being grilled by his prom date’s father, Griff took a swig of his beer. “Corporate.”
“Did you and Cass know each other in New York?” J.J. asked.
“No, we met in Austin. We’re both runners.”
“I see,” Cole said, nodding. “What brought you to Austin?”
“Business,” Griff replied. “How about them Cowboys?”
J.J. hooted with laughter. “He gotcha good, big brother. How about them Cowboys?”
Cole frowned. “Was I making you uncomfortable, Griff? Sorry. To tell you the truth, I never cared much for the Cowboys. I was an Oilers man until they moved to Tennessee and changed their name. You a football fan?”
“More baseball than football.”
“Okay, guys,” Belle said. “Break it up. We’re not going to have any of that men-huddled-around-the-beer stuff. Mix and mingle. Who thinks they could beat me at a game of horseshoes before lunch?”
“Ding-a-ling,” Cole said, throwing an arm around her neck in a headlock. “I can whip you any day of the week.”
Saved by the bell, Griff thought, wandering off to find Cass. He met Skye and Flora, the artist, a slightly fey woman in a purple outfit who studied him intently. She cocked her head this way and that, then said, “Ah, you have an interesting aura. I’d like to talk with you more later.” She patted his cheek and sighed.
When Flora flitted away, Griff asked Cass, “What did she mean?”
Skye chuckled. “With Mother, one never knows. She sees things some of the rest of us don’t, and she’s always looking for subjects to paint. I have a lovely painting of Sam in armor and wearing his cowboy hat. She nailed him perfectly.”
Griff tried not to squirm. Cass’s family made him very uncomfortable. Everyone except Gabe. And maybe Belle and Nonie. Griff gravitated toward Gabe, and they discussed the real estate business in the area. He was obviously an astute businessman.
Their picnic lunch was laid out buffet style, and they sat at folding tables under the canopy instead of on blankets. Except for the children. They insisted on sitting among the flowers to eat.
When they finished eating, Wes Outlaw rose. He held his wineglass high. “I’d like to propose a toast to Belle and Gabe and to Skye and Sam on the occasion of their anniversary. May their lives always be as happy as Nonie’s and mine have been.”
“Hear! Hear!” Everyone raised their glasses.
“Anyone have any announcements to make?” Wes asked, looking around expectantly.
Sunny raised her hand. “Ben and I are getting married in early summer. You’ll all be invited.”
Everybody cheered and clapped, and J.J. whistled.
Skye raised her hand, and Sam looked at her strangely. “We’re expecting a little bundle at our house.”
Sam’s eyes bugged, and he almost fell off his chair. “We are?”
She laughed. “Our llama’s pregnant.”
Chapter Six
“Wasn’t that fun?” Cass asked on the drive home. “I do adore that bunch of people.”
“Nice folks,” Griff said.
Even though he smiled and said the right things, Cass got the sudden impression that poor Griff hadn’t had fun at all. He’d been charming to everyone the whole afternoon, but was it all an act? “I suppose the gang might be overwhelming all at once. What was I thinking to put you through such an ordeal? Will you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I enjoyed meeting your family. I don’t recall ever being around so many lawmen at one time—at least not since the cops raided a frat party when I was in college.”
“Don’t tell me you were intimidated.”
“By a forest of drawling Texas Rangers and country sheriffs? Not me, darlin’.”
Cass frowned. Did she hear a smidgen of condesc
ension in his tone? More than a smidgen, she decided. And it rankled. She was nuts about her newfound Outlaw relatives and proud of every one of them. Totally aggravated by his attitude, she was tempted to stop her car and leave him on the side of the road. The sooner she could get back to Austin and dump this New Yawk Yankee, the better. She should never have taken up with him in the first place. A cute butt and gorgeous eyes didn’t trump narrow-mindedness.
Griff must have picked up on her thoughts because he said, “Okay, I admit the Outlaw guys made me a little uneasy. The mere size of them is enough to make anybody quake in their boots.”
“But they’re all pussycats. Sweet as pie.”
Griff chuckled. “Don’t let the big grins and back slapping fool you. Those guys, McKee included, could wade into a pack of hungry grizzlies and come out unscathed.”
Cass laughed. “And with several bearskin rugs. I’ll give you that.”
“I wouldn’t want to meet any of them in a dark alley. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He gave her a very engaging grin.
She laughed again. She suspected that Griffin Mitchell could hold his own in that alley, but his comments had deflated her pique with him. “Don’t discount Belle. She has a black belt in something or other.”
“I’m not at all surprised. Are you a martial arts expert, as well?”
Cass rolled her eyes. “Hardly. Now Sunny is another story. She’s the tough twin.”
“What was your father like?” Griff asked. “Was he as big as the rest of the Outlaws?”
“I never saw him.” She wasn’t going to mention the recent glimpses she’d had of the Senator—or whoever. “I gather from talking with Uncle Wes that they were about the same size—about like J.J. when they were young.”
“You and Sunny look a great deal like your cousin Belle.”
“Everybody says that. Strong Outlaw genes, I suppose.”
“You must be tired,” Griff said. “Would you like me to drive?”
She grinned. “Is that a subtle hint for me to ease up on the accelerator?”