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Authors: Myla Jackson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Western, #Erotica

Boots and Twisters (19 page)

BOOK: Boots and Twisters
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Trent knocked on Lucky’s door after a fitful night’s sleep. If he could call dozing off and waking up a thousand times sleep. He’d thought a lot about how Lucky was willing to walk away rather than split up his family. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how right she was.

“Lucky.” He tapped on the door. When she didn’t respond, he figured she was either asleep or ignoring him. “If you’re asleep, good. You worked harder than any woman I know yesterday and you deserve to sleep in. If you’re not answering because you don’t want to hear any more of my grumpy attitude, I’m sorry.” He felt stupid talking to her door. “Please, Lucky, open the door. I need to tell you that you’re right. Family is everything. I’ve been living alone for too long and forgot how much my brother means to me. My father and I never saw eye to eye. But Isaac always took my side when things got rough. I owe him my sanity.”

Still no answer. He leaned his forehead against the door. “I won’t hold it against you or Isaac if you choose him. Granted, it will be hard to see you two together, knowing I could be a part of your happiness. But I’ll understand.”

“You mean that?” a voice said from behind him.

Trent turned to face his brother and nodded. “I do.”

“Thanks. I was getting used to having you around.” Isaac smiled. “Does that mean you aren’t going to sell?”

“I’m not. Even if this didn’t feel like a home when I was a kid, I can make it feel like home as an adult.”

“Thank goodness.” Isaac draped an arm over his brother’s shoulder. “I want my kids to know this place and love it like I do.”

“Just be sure to encourage them to have
happy
memories.”

“That’s the plan.” Isaac’s arm dropped to his side. “What if she chooses both of us?”

Trent ran a hand through his hair, his lips twisting. “I’d be okay with that as well. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“I think it was pretty damned good.” Isaac chuckled. “Is she in there?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to intrude if she was asleep.”

“I’d think that if she was inside, she’d respond.” Isaac gripped the doorknob and pushed it open.

The room was empty and the bed was neatly made.

Trent’s heart skipped several beats. He hurried into the bedroom, threw open the closet door and nearly collapsed in relief. Lucky’s duffel bag was there on the floor, her few items of clothing hanging in a tidy row. She didn’t have a lot, for a woman. Most women had closets full of colorful clothing. Not Lucky. He turned back to the bedroom and noticed the worn picture frame with a faded photo on the nightstand by the bed.

He crossed to lift it.

Lucky stood beside an older, careworn man with a tanned face, cowboy hat and eyes the same color as hers. They were both smiling and happy.

His heart squeezed in his chest. This had to be Lucky’s father. A man who obviously had loved his daughter.

“She deserves to be that happy again.” Isaac stood beside him, staring down at the picture.

“Yes, she does.”

“Question is, are we the men to make her that happy?”

Trent answered honestly, “I don’t know.”

“We didn’t have the best example, what with Mom leaving before you were four and Dad being the horse’s butt he was.”

“One thing’s certain,” Trent said. “We know how
not
to be happy.”

“She’s special,” Isaac noted.

“I know.” Trent set the picture frame back on the nightstand. “She made me see this place.”

“What do you mean?”

“Through her eyes, it’s beautiful.”

“I tried to tell you it wasn’t the place but our father you were angry at.”

Trent nodded. “That’s what she showed me.”

“So what are we going to do about her?” Isaac crossed his arms. “I’m willing to try and make her happy, even if it means sharing her with you.”

“There’s no
trying
about it. Either we make her happy or we send her on her way now and spare her the pain.”

“I’m in.” Isaac stuck out his hand.

Trent gripped his brother’s hand and stared into his eyes. “Me too. Let’s go find her and let her know.”

Trent couldn’t wait to see her, to hold her in his arms and dare to dream of a happier life for all of them, there at the Triple J Ranch.

They left the house and hurried toward the barn. Wind had picked up, pushing a long line of dark clouds their way.

A gust blew Isaac’s cowboy hat off his head, and he ran after it, catching it before it had gone more than a couple yards.

The vet’s truck was parked outside the barn. Dr. Richards emerged, carrying his bag of medical supplies. When he saw them, he set the bag in the backseat of the four-door truck and straightened. “I dosed the heifer with antibiotics and drenched her again.” He grinned. “I like the new ranch hand, she knows her stuff and could well have saved that heifer. You better keep her around. She’s good.”

“We know,” Trent said. “Is she inside?”

“She was a few minutes ago, but left on a horse after I’d administered the antibiotics. I have to get out to the O’Briens’ place before that storm hits.”

“You better get going.” Trent opened the door for the doctor to climb into his truck. “Thanks for coming out on short notice.”

“Glad I could help. Lucky did the right thing.” He nodded toward the wicked-looking sky. “You better batten down the hatches, looks like it’ll be bad.”

As the vet drove out of the barnyard, Trent glanced across the pasture, wondering where Lucky had gone.

 

Isaac checked inside the barn. Nothing moved but one of the horses in a stall. It was then he realized Thunder’s stall was empty. He checked the tack room and his heart sank to his knees. Lucky had apparently taken the wildest horse out for a ride.

When he emerged from the barn, he glanced around, worried. The storm was moving in fast. Otis trotted out of the barn beside him and crossed to Trent to nuzzle his hand.

Trent brushed his fingers over the dog’s short hair.

“Thunder’s not in his stall and a saddle is missing from the tack room,” Isaac announced.

“Surely she didn’t…” Trent ran into the barn and looked for himself. When he came out, he too stared at the darkening sky. “Damn.”

Isaac ran for the back of the barn and pulled the four-wheeler out, checked the gas level and shouted over the wind at his brother. “You coming?”

Trent hopped on as Isaac gunned the throttle and they were off across the pastures to find their suicidal ranch hand and the potential love of their lives.

Chapter Eleven

Lucky gave Thunder his head, letting him race across the ground like the wind. He’d been jumpy and nervous when she’d pulled him out of his stall and saddled him up. He needed to run and she needed the wind in her hair and to get away from the house and the two men she feared she was falling for.

By the time Thunder reached the creek with the pool, they were both breathing hard and ready for a rest.

She reined in the big horse beside the clear pool and slipped from the saddle. Thunderclouds had gathered in the west and pushed up a long line of storms headed her way, which suited her mood. She’d hoped the ride would settle her thoughts, make her decisions easier and get her over the heartache building like the storm.

It hadn’t. Coming to the place where she’d first experienced an orgasm with Trent didn’t help. She could only imagine him here, lying naked on the rock ledge, maybe with Isaac floating in the pool. Her core heated, blood running like molten-hot liquid through her veins. The image of both of them, naked and beautiful, dappled by sunlight through the overhanging trees had her breathing hard and wishing with all her heart they were there.

But the foliage around the pool wasn’t the lazy, sublime trees of the day before. The wind whipped them, making them wave like palm fronds in a hurricane.

The horse whinnied, urging her to get moving. Lightning lit up the bank of clouds followed by a low rumbling in the distance. She’d have to hurry if she wanted to get on the road before the storm hit.

Swinging up in the saddle, she gave one last glance at the pool, her chest hurting so badly she could barely breathe.

Before she could press her heels into Thunder’s flanks, he bolted out of the valley and raced back toward the barn, galloping as if being chased by the storm.

When she reached the barn, Lucky hung the saddle in the tack room, rubbed the horse down, led him into the stall where she fed him sweet feed and hay and made sure he had plenty of water. “Too wild to ride, my fanny,” she muttered, rubbing his nose. “Misunderstood is more the case. You just like to run.”

The horse tossed his head in agreement. “If only men were as easily understood.”

Thunder brushed her cheek with his nose as if sensing her melancholy.

Before leaving the barn, Lucky went to the last stall to check on the heifer. The bovine seemed to be doing better already, although she shifted nervously at the clap of thunder outside.

Done in the barn, Lucky trudged up to the house and called out, “Trent, Isaac?”

No answer.

“I’m leaving,” she called again. Nothing moved inside. She went from room to room, searching for them. When she didn’t find either one, she was sad and relieved at the same time. If she tried to leave with them standing there, it would be that much more difficult. Especially if they just let her go.

With tears welling in her eyes, Lucky packed her duffle bag, sliding her picture of her dad in between the clothing to keep it from breaking. Clouds obliterated the sun outside, making the room dark and gloomy.

She closed the door and walked back through the house, carrying her bag, her gaze skimming over the leather furniture in the living room and the pictures hung on the wall of horses, Texas blue bonnets and wide-open western sunsets. Though she’d only been there a short time, she’d miss this place. It was the first place she’d felt could be a home after her father died. She stopped in the kitchen for a couple pieces of bread from a loaf on the counter.

At the front door, she turned back into the house for one last look. “Goodbye,” she said to no one, and then she left.

Otis met her on the porch, nuzzling the hand with the slices of bread. She let him have one, saving the other to lure him toward her truck.

Stashing her bag behind her seat, Lucky glanced around the yard and down toward the barn. Neither of the Jameson men were anywhere in sight. Lucky supposed they’d gone to town. Now would be a good time to leave the Triple J.

Then why was it still so hard?

Nobody stopped her or tried to convince her to stay. She would be on her own again, homeless and alone.

She held the passenger seat door open and tossed the other piece of bread up on the seat.

Otis jumped in.

Alone except for Otis, who happily gobbled up the piece of bread in one gulp and tried to climb into Lucky’s lap when she slid behind the wheel.

“Ready to find a new home, buddy?”

Otis woofed and settled back against the seat, staring out the window as if he looked forward to the adventure.

At least someone was happy about leaving.

Lucky drove slowly out of the yard and down the long winding drive leading to the highway. Every five seconds she glanced in the rearview mirror, hoping one of the Jamesons would come riding up beside her and beg her to stay. She made it to the highway and halfway to town before she realized how idiotic she was being. They weren’t coming.

But that storm was.

As she drove down Main Street in Temptation, she noted the people standing outside of the Shear Safari, staring up at the sky.

Among them was Audrey Anderson.

Lucky pulled up next to the curb and dropped down from her pickup. “Audrey, could I have a word with you?”

Audrey broke away from Mona and the woman Mona had been with the night Lucky pushed Audrey’s truck into the ditch.

Audrey called back over her shoulder, “Oh, and Bunny have those flowers delivered to Charli tomorrow. It’s her two-year anniversary with the Ugly Stick Saloon. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

A pang of regret ripped through Lucky. She hadn’t even lasted two nights, much less two years at the Ugly Stick and here she was bugging out because she was afraid of falling in love with two very handsome cowboys.

“What’s up, Lucky?”

“I’m leaving.”

Audrey frowned. “What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

Before Lucky could respond, a shout sounded from across the street at the local attorney’s office. “There she is! That’s her! That’s the woman who attacked me and threw me into Judge Stephen’s pool.” Mrs. Rutledge hurried toward her, followed by a man in a suit and another in a sheriff’s deputy uniform.

Mrs. Rutledge shook her finger at Lucky. “I told you I’d sue you.” She turned back to the deputy. “Serve her,” she demanded.

The deputy was the same one who’d been there to take notes after the debacle in the sheriff’s pool the day before. “I’m sorry, Ms. Albright. I don’t always agree with these things, but I’m here to serve you with papers.”

BOOK: Boots and Twisters
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