Trial by Fire (3 page)

No showing weakness.

“Coffee. Want the usual, Holden?” Rosie’s bright, curious green eyes sparkled, her nose all but twitching like a bunny’s.

“Yes, ma’am. You hungry? They got good biscuits and gravy here.” He wanted his burrito, but he figured the guy was a foreigner, and Miss Addie had been a fiend for biscuits.

“Is gravy not the same here? Because it doesn’t go.” Lachlan frowned, and Holden could tell he wasn’t being evil.

“Right. Y’all got biscuits wrong. Your sister loved ’em. Here, bring him eggs and sausage and biscuit, gravy on the side. How you take your eggs?”

Suddenly Lachlan looked like he simply wasn’t following, eyes a little wide, mouth dropping open. “Uh.”

Rosie chuckled. “Over easy? Scrambled?”

“Oh. Fried hard, please.”

“There you go.” Holden put his hat in the chair beside him, then sucked back his coffee. Lord, what a morning.

“Thanks.” Lachlan watched Rosie leave with a tiny smile on his face. “You have a dustup with a bit of machinery?” The man nodded toward his hand.

“Trailer door snapped shut on me. I got me a bit of a rescue operation thing, and I had to move horses.”
Shut up, Holden.

“Ow.” Lachlan lifted his mug, a tea bag hanging out of it. Tea. Good Lord and butter.

Still, the man had different ways, he guessed. Miss Addie had worked at being a Texan from the get-go. “Little bit, yeah.”

“So, how is Chloe? Is she healthy? Does she—” Lachlan looked into his mug. “Does she look like Adelaide?”

“She’s healthy as a damn horse. She’s starting to reach for toys and all. Doc Miller says she’s perfect.” He grabbed his phone, because dammit, he couldn’t resist showing off his Chloe one bit. “Here. She’s gonna be little like her daddy, but she’s got her momma’s colors. She looks like a doll.”

He showed a picture that they’d taken the day of the crash—all three of them were laughing, and he’d snapped the shot before heading out to a cattle auction. Addie looked like the picture of life, and Landon, well, he looked like home.

Then there was little Chloe, kicking her baby feet like a ninja.

“Oh.” Lachlan looked tired for a moment. Real tired, as if he just didn’t know how to move. Then he smiled, his eyes lighting up. “She looks like a happy little Vegemite.”

“She’s amazing.” Holden stopped for a second, took a breath. “Miss Addie and me, we were great friends. I loved her a lot. Everybody tells me she died doing what she loved, but that seems like a shit trade-off.”

“It is.” Lachlan met his eyes, mouth in a flat line. “I was so damned determined to let her have her own life, yeah? I missed too much.”

“She never said much about y’all. I mean, I knew there was bad blood, but that was it. She had a family with us as soon as we met her.”

“I’m glad for that.” Lachlan sighed, rolling his head on his neck.

“Me too.” The food came, his breakfast burrito the size of his head and smothered with queso.

“Is that cheese?” Lachlan had that wide-eyed thing going again. That was a hoot.

“Uh-huh. With tomatoes and peppers.”

“So what about mine is the biscuit?”

He pointed to the two biscuits on the plate. “Split ’em and butter. Some folks like honey, some like gravy.”

“I’ll try both. I assume this white sauce is meant to be gravy?”

“Nope. It is gravy. Luckily for you, it’s meant to be good too.”

“Huh.” Lachlan poked at everything a little, then shrugged and began to eat, proving he was a cowboy in some ways at least.

Holden ate hearty, grateful as all fuck that his broke fingers were on his dumb hand.

The plates were empty and cups refilled before either of them spoke again. “When can I see her, mate?”

“I’m not going to let you take her away. You have to know that.” He got that McCoughey wanted to see Chloe, but they needed to work this part out.

“I can understand how you think that.” Lachlan held up a hand. “Now, don’t get all cranky. I misunderstood from your brother the scope of your outfit. I get that you can keep her in style. She has a whole other family back home who deserve to know her, though.”

That didn’t make sense, because Addie sure wasn’t sending e-mails home Down Under.

He ran his fingers through his hair. He probably should just walk away. That would be the safest, right? It’s what Momma and Daddy would say. Still, this was Chloe’s uncle as much as he was.

This was a man who lost his sister.

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” Lachlan paused with his tea halfway to his mouth. “You mean I can see her?”

“Yeah. Addie never spoke against y’all.” Never spoke for them either.

“She probably never talked about us ever.” That grimace told Holden how Lachlan felt about that. “She wanted out, wanted to see the world and ride the rodeo. Mum and Dad, well, they think a girl needs security.”

“That’s what she did, ride the rodeo, I mean. She was one hell of a barrel racer. She took third in Vegas.”

“Did she? Good on her.” That grin said a lot, like maybe Lachlan’s knee-jerk reaction to rodeo wasn’t as deep as Holden thought.

“She did. I—you want to go see their house? It… it’s mine now, but I can’t.” He stopped, took a breath. “I’m not ready to sell it, clean it out.”

Lachlan nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’d like that. See where she lived and all. Thank you.”

“Yeah. She was a good person. They were my best friends.” His lips tightened, and his throat closed a little. “You about done? I can run you out there.”

“Yeah.” Lachlan held out a hand when he grabbed the bill. “On me, mate. I interrupted your day.”

“That’s fair. Thanks.” See him. See him being a good guy.

Lachlan gave him a ghost of a smile, which could be lethal if it was full wattage, he’d bet.

“Come on. You want me to drive you out, or are you going to follow?”

“You mind driving? I have the damndest time with your roads. Wrong side and all. Nearly got myself killed on the way here.”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine.” They’d had this day where Landon and Addie and him, they’d spent the whole day on the ranch driving on the wrong side and damn near dying from the laughter. “Addie always said thank God we don’t have a lot of traffic circles.”

Lachlan made a noise like a startled horse. “She damned near killed us when she was learning to drive around a roundabout.”

“She was easily distracted, huh?” He chuckled, thinking how she never lost focus on a horse, only in a car.

Possibly on a plane, not that he was going to think on that. There was no sense placing blame on something like this. None.

God, he needed to get out of here. Take a walk.

They headed out, and he let Lachlan in the Ford. “Excuse the mess.”

“Shit. This is nothing, yeah? You should see my rig in calving season.”

“Yeah. Every truck’s a work truck.” He backed out, found classic country on the satellite radio, and headed to the acreage that had been Landon’s. His plot matched exactly and was on the other side of the farm to market. Eight hundred acres of pasture each, given to them when they graduated from high school. Landon ran rodeo horses; he ran cattle.

Of course, Holden guessed he ran horses now too. Jesus. So much to figure out; he’d been running on autopilot since the crash.

“It’s good land,” McCoughey said. “Very green.”

“Been a wet spring.” He needed to get someone out to mow.

“Nice. Gets more extreme where I am. More like your West Texas, they tell me.”

“Ah. Well, it’s pretty out there, but this is home.” He put on his blinker to go left, then remembered to go right. He’d take Lachlan over to see his baby girl after, so she could go down for her nap after lunch and put a finite time period on the visit.

“Solid stuff,” Lachlan agreed. “What do you run?”

“Beefmasters, for the most part. My spread isn’t for Sheffield and Sons. I have five hundred head. Landon and Addie raise quarter horses, and we run a mustang rescue together.”

“Yeah? I’d love to see the mustangs. Hardy buggers.” Lachlan stared out the passenger window. “I run Angus and Murray. Some Charolais mixed in, though those are whoppers.”

“There’s a shitload of Herefords and Brahmas in my herd, just ’cause. Those Charolais are damn pretty, all curly-headed. Me and Landon are thinking to start running buffalo next year.”

“They’re hardy, but aren’t they wild?”

“God yes.” It was going to be so much fun.

They turned onto Landon’s property, the gate the same as his—wrought iron with a huge “S” in the center. He reached for the remote, grunting as his hand reminded him that broke bones hurt some.

“So, your folks run the rodeo company?” Lachlan asked, taking the remote and keying open the gate.

“Thanks. Yeah. I mean, I do the ranch part—ride fence and such. I deal with the training a lot, too, the paperwork. I’m not like Landon and Addie. I’m not addicted to the road so much.” They pulled up to the house, the huge single story boasting a giant wraparound porch and whitewashed rails. Unlike Holden’s house, which was stone and cedar, all the decks and porches facing east with a balcony off the upstairs office.

Lachlan sat there once he’d parked, staring at the house as if Addie’s ghost had just walked out to meet them.

“You okay, man?” Holden asked. They didn’t have to go in.

“I—not really. No. Looks just like my mum and dad’s place.”

“Does it?” He looked at the house. It just looked like Addie and Landon’s home to him. “They built it, oh, two years ago? My house was already done.”

“Two years. Excuse me.” Lachlan climbed out of the truck and walked back to stand by the bed, hand on the fender, head down. Those wide shoulders shook a little, and Holden turned his back, giving the man some space.

Daisy and Mick, his two Great Pyrenees that roamed the acreage, came barreling up, and he went to grab the kibbles from the back seat. “Hey, y’all. How are you? You catch pregnant yet, Daisy-girl? You gonna give me puppies?”

She woofed, licking her chops, and before he could blink, Lachlan was back with him, holding out his hands for the dogs to sniff. Daisy wagged and bowed, while Mick stayed back, staring hard.

Chuckling, Lachlan nodded. “I have no designs on your lady, lad. I promise.”

“Be good, Mick. Everyone else lives at the big house. Did you want to go in?”

“Do you mind?” Lachlan seemed to steel himself, jaw firming, shoulders squared up.

“Nope. I been here before. It ain’t nasty.” Holden met Lachlan’s gaze, head on. “Maria comes in and cleans twice a week for me and Landon, and she takes care of Chloe, lots. I haven’t moved nothing, but it’s spotless.”

Then he headed up the stairs, forced himself not to knock, and unlocked the door, then pushed it open. The scent of people, of family was gone already, replaced by cleaners. He’d taken one of Landon’s shirts and put it in his closet, but that was it.

“Aw, now, it looks just like Mum’s floor too.” Lachlan laughed, a sound like rocks over a cheese grater. “She missed home a little, yeah?”

“I reckon.” How the hell would he know? She hadn’t been his wife. “She sure knew what she wanted, and Landon’s position was that he was building this for her.”

“Looks like.” Lachlan wandered, looking at everything, touching nothing.

“That picture’s from their wedding. This one is Christmas. She’s as big as a house. This one is Chloe’s first portrait, her first Valentine’s Day.” There were pictures of him and Landon together—as babies, at their first rodeo, at their graduation. Always together.

“Oy. You two were twins?” Lachlan did touch now, but his and Landon’s picture, not Addie’s.

“Yeah. May first. I’m the oldest by six minutes. He was the biggest.” Holden headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “You thirsty?”

Maria had taken all the booze after Holden had tried to drink the pain of losing them away, sitting on the floor in Landon’s guest bedroom and hiding from the whole world.

“Thanks.” Lachlan shook his head. “Did she still have my grandma’s cameo? Chloe should have that.”

“I haven’t. I can’t. I’ll look.” Someday. Not now. “Chloe can have everything.”

“Right. Sorry.” Lachlan turned on his heel and left the house, practically running down the stairs from the porch.

Yeah. He got it. He finished his water, threw the bottle away, then whispered, “I fucking hate y’all for leaving me here. You were… shit, y’all suck, so bad.”

Holden slammed his hand on the counter, using the agony in the broken bones to excuse his tears.

Then he got his shit together and went to lock up the house.

LACHLAN
sat in the truck waiting for Holden to take him to Chloe, his eyes burning, his throat full of goo. Ades was dead. If it hadn’t been real before, it was now, and he wanted to hit something. Scream.

She’d had this whole life, and he hadn’t even known. He’d just been waiting for her to come to her senses and come back to Queensland.

Holden was quiet when he got in the truck, starting it without a word. That damn hand looked like swollen death, just blue and gross, but the man never so much as flinched.

They pulled out, the gate rolling closed behind them when they hit the main road. They crossed over instead of turning out, and Holden stopped a moment at the mailbox, idling while he pulled out the mail. This house was smaller, but not small. Just a good-sized stone house with a star in stained glass on the front door. The porch sat lower than Ades’s, the roof a dark-colored metal.

“Nice,” he murmured, finally breaking the silence.

“Huh? Oh, that’s mine. I’ve been staying at the big house since… for the last month. We’re moving back, though. We want to be settled before everyone goes on the road.”

Lachlan nodded. Holden wasn’t what he’d expected—not on words or on paper. “Do you travel with them?”

“Only when I need to. There’s too much to do here to leave it rest.”

Lachlan’s phone beeped, his mum texting him:
well? are you coming home with her?

He sent back:
not today.

“Well, that’s good for Chloe, huh?” He’d thought they were all rodeo types, and just riders at that. This was a good operation.