Two Cowboys in Her Crosshairs [Hellfire Ranch] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (11 page)

BOOK: Two Cowboys in Her Crosshairs [Hellfire Ranch] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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“Yep.”

“’Kay. So, drinks?”

“I’ll have sweet tea,” he replied.

“That sounds good,” Olivia agreed.

“Coming right up. Hud knows the specials.” She spun and darted to another table.

“Darlin’, I think you’re gonna need more napkins.” Humor spun Hudson’s words as he pointed at the table in front of her.

Olivia looked down and groaned. “Damn it,” she muttered. She swept the scattered sugar-substitute crystals into her hand and dumped them into her napkin. How was it possible she’d been so intent on deciphering the atmosphere between Catherine and Hudson that she hadn’t noticed tearing the packet into tiny yellow pieces?

He laughed and blessedly picked up his menu.

“Are you really going to eat lunch?” she asked.

“Breakfast was almost three hours ago. I’m a mite hungry. They have excellent chili here, too. And Maljib’s corn bread is damn near as good as his potato salad.”

Olivia wasn’t all that hungry, but the food
did
smell delicious. And it appeared she needed every bit of help she could muster to keep herself occupied.

She picked up her menu and scanned the items. She was relieved to find the potato salad and corn-bread muffins on the side items section.

“Ready?” Catherine rasped as she plunked down their drinks.

Olivia jerked and nearly knocked over the tea.

“Easy there, sassafras,” Catherine said. “You’ll get that pretty dress all wet
and
I’ll have to mop the floor if you spill.”

Olivia heard the laughter under the words and echoed with a chuckle of her own. “Better you than me,” she said. “I’ve had enough of mopping. Jake used to dole out KP to me on a regular basis. Do you know how hard it is to mop in the desert?”

Catherine’s blue eyes went wide, and her pink-painted mouth dropped open. “Whoa, hold the boat.” She snatched a chair from the next table, spun it around, and plunked herself down. She leaned forward, face alive with curiosity. “You were stationed with Jake in Afghanistan?”

Not quite sure what to make of the sudden intrusion, Olivia nodded.

“What was it like?”

“Cat, that’s enough,” Hudson said.

“Hot, mostly.” Olivia shrugged. She took a sip of tea then looked down at the closed menu. She didn’t like remembering those days.

“Hush, Hudson,” the waitress scolded. “Why are you in Freedom?”

Olivia met her piercing blue eyes. “It’s personal, sorry.” Her tone said she wasn’t sorry a bit.

Catherine nodded. “Yeah, I do that a lot. Butt in, that is. You can ask Hud here. I’m always riding his ass.” She bit her lip and tapped a pink nail on the tabletop. “It’s just that we’re all real concerned about him. He has spells sometimes, you know.”

Olivia’s head snapped toward Hudson. He sat with his elbows propped on the table and his head in hands. He also seemed to be moaning. For a minute she worried he was feeling bad again, but then he peeked at her through his fingers. He looked resigned, annoyed, and disgruntled, but not ill.

“What kind of spells?” she demanded.

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Doc about those. But I know he goes to the Chrome Barrel once a month on the twenty-first and tosses back a few. He gets all isolated, and the agony on his face is enough to make a statue weep. It’s worse every June 21. Way worse.”

Olivia’s mind raced. The date wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be. Couple Jake’s sense of honor and responsibility with his inability to save those lost, and she could see him trying to drown it all in the bottom of a bottle.

A swell of sympathy lodged in her throat, and she blinked away tears. In that moment, all she wanted to do was try to comfort him. To tell him the attack hadn’t been his fault. That the deaths of their squad mates had not been something he could have prevented. None of them could have foreseen it.

But she knew he would shrug her off as he always did. Jake was wound tighter than a percussion fuse. It sounded like he was heading for a large explosion, too.

Catherine cleared her throat. “He’s a special guy, Jake. He’s warm and kind hearted.”

Olivia forced a smile. “That’s not exactly the way I remember him.”

The waitress laughed. “I guess not.”

“Cat, can we order now?” Hudson asked plaintively.

She pulled her pad and pen out from her apron. “Shoot.”

Olivia noticed she was writing before he started talking. Catherine winked at her and mouthed his order right along with him.

“Bowl of chili, extra peppers. Corn-bread muffins. Better make it six of ’em. Side of potato salad and coleslaw. Chocolate Silk pie for dessert.”

Olivia grinned in response. She didn’t know the woman’s relationship to either man and didn’t want to think about it. But the waitress had an indefinable air of fun and warmth about her that invited others to join in.

It had been a long, long time since Olivia did anything remotely fun.

“How about for you, hon?”

And she’d
never
been called hon before. “I’ll have a small side of the potato salad and a slice of the chocolate pie, too. No whipped cream, please.”

Catherine stopped writing then shook her head. “Sorry, no can do on nixing the cream. Maljib would have a fit.” She ran an assessing eye over Olivia. “You could do with a little extra meat, anyway. You’re not from Texas, are you?”

“No.”

“Trust me, these cowboys like a filly with cushioning. Beanpoles and girls with barely-there curves are always left to pasture.”

Olivia covertly studied the woman’s lithe figure as she walked away. She wasn’t exactly packing on the pounds. “Was she talking about herself?”

Hudson nodded. “Yeah. Her rat bastard ex-husband did that to her. She’s a great girl. We’ve been out a couple of times. Just me, though. She hasn’t been out with Jake. He doesn’t date anyone.” He took a sip of his tea. “She’s a singer and a helluva talent, but she’s looking to get out of Freedom. She’d wither out there on the ranch.”

Olivia traced the condensation on her glass. “Did you want her to settle down out there?”

He laughed, and the familiar flirting sparkle returned to his face. “Nah. I wasn’t ready for that.”

“Oh?” She lifted a teasing brow. “Meaning you are now?”

He reddened. “You’re quick.”

“I’m a marine. It’s required. Okay, Hudson, back to your story.”

“Which one? I’ve started at least six since we got in the truck.”

“You and Jake and your childhood. Tell me more.”

For a brief instant his good humor dimmed, and then he nodded and launched into a story about their hijinks. Olivia lost herself in his words and barely noticed when Catherine placed the bowl of potato salad in front of her. She smiled her thanks and picked up a fork.

Hudson stopped talking long enough to take a bite of chili, and Olivia sampled the salad.

“Holy crap,” she whispered. She looked down then back at Hudson. He was smiling.

“Told you so,” he said smugly.

“What does he put in it?”

“Don’t know. No one’s ever really gotten the recipe. He gives out different versions he finds on the internet.” Hudson pointed his fork at her. “You could bat those beautiful brown eyes at him and remind him he promised you the real one.”

Olivia swallowed the bite she had in her mouth and wiped her lips with her napkin. “They’re just eyes.”

“Bullshit, darlin’. They’re the kind of eyes men long to get lost in. The kind that will make him forget everything but you and what you want.”

She felt another blush rise and cursed the flare. She wasn’t used to compliments or this kind of flattery. It made her wonder at his motive.

“One’s fake,” she blurted out. She gasped and slammed her eyelids shut.
What in the hell is wrong with me?
Being in Texas seemed to flip her inside out and stupid.

Hudson didn’t say anything, and his silence made her peek at him. When she met his gaze, he gave her a gruff nod. “I know.”

The doctors who’d replaced her eye with the prosthetic had done some amazing things. They’d managed to exactly match her eye color and shape. To the casual observer, both eyes were identical and natural.

“Jake told me,” he clarified. Hudson scooped out the last of his chili. “Doesn’t matter a damn bit, darlin’. You’re a beautiful woman.” His concern and empathy brought the sting of tears, and she looked away.

His hand covered hers. “I’m sorry for the hell you went through. All of you. But I’m damn glad you were there.” His voice cracked, and he paused to clear his throat. “I’m especially grateful to you for saving Jake. He’s my best friend, my brother. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

Olivia’s heart stuttered at the emotion in his voice.

“Jake is more than a good guy. He’s my hero,” Hudson said.

Catherine interrupted the moment with two plates filled with the biggest, tallest pie Olivia had ever seen. Her mouth watered in anticipation of wrapping around the sky-high chocolate fluff.

“Good decision on the whipped cream,” she said.

The waitress laughed. “I know how to call ’em, hon. Y’all enjoy.”

The tense subjects of war and Jake were carefully set aside as they dug into the pie. Just as with the salad, the moment her mouth touched the smooth creaminess, she was amazed. “Good Lord, the man has the Midas touch with food.”

Hudson snorted. “That’s a good description.”

They finished in companionable silence. She scraped the very last bit of whipped cream and chocolate heaven from her plate and set her fork down. She leaned back with a sated sigh. “I could totally eat another piece.”

“You think that,” Hudson said. “But do it and you’ll be yakking in no time. It’s just too rich.”

She stuck her tongue out. “Gross. Glad I’m done eating.”

“Y’all need anything else?”

Catherine had once again appeared silently. Olivia thought she might have made a pretty good spy. “No, thank you. It was delicious.”

“Yeah, it is.” She looked at Maljib, who was showing incoming customers the dining area. Her face softened. “He’s one of a kind.”

“Give me the check, Cat. We need to get going.”

“Here you go.” She held out her hand. “Olivia, it was a pleasure meeting you. I’d love to get together and gab about these boys when they’re not around. We can swap all sorts of embarrassing stories about them. I’m at the Chrome Barrel on Wednesdays, Fridays, and most Sunday nights playing a few sets. Stop by and I’ll buy you a beer.”

“Sure,” Olivia said. She knew there wasn’t a chance it would happen. She was only in town for a couple of days.

While the woman’s offer was alluring, she didn’t have the time to sit and chat.

She had to track down a killer before he struck again.

Chapter Six

 

Jake was sitting on the porch later when a whistling Hudson strolled up. The jaunty tune made him wonder just what kind of fun he and Olivia had without him.

“Have fun?” he asked.

Hudson didn’t pause. “Yep.” He pulled open the screen door and disappeared inside.

Jake propped a boot on the low rail and sipped his beer as he waited. Moments later the screen door reopened and slammed shut.

Hudson dropped into the rocker next to him and twisted off his beer cap. “She’s…amazing.”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “She is.”

“Feel like talking about her?”

“Nope.”

Hudson grunted. “That’s your problem, Jake. You never want to talk. All that poison is eating you up from the inside.”

“Uh-huh.” He took a swig of beer. “Guess since you went into town and stayed out late you’ll be ready to work tomorrow?”

“Late? Hell, it’s only eight o’clock.”

“You’ve been gone since noon.”

“Didn’t realize I needed to check in, Mom.”

Jake tilted his head at Hudson’s uncharacteristic snap. “Feeling guilty?”

Silence floated between them, broken only by the soft low of the cows.

“No,” Hudson replied. “Just intrigued and confused. If you don’t want her—”

“I didn’t say that.”

Hudson’s raspy chuckle was followed by a bout of coughing. “Quit beating around the damn bush then. What
do
you want?”

“If I knew that, don’t you think I’d do something?”

Hudson turned in the rocker. “What’s the deal with the statue?”

The abrupt switch in topics was disconcerting but a relief. “I’m not exactly sure.”

“Bullshit.”

Jake went quiet. Yeah, he wasn’t telling his best friend the truth. That scared the hell out of him. He shared everything with Hudson — except about what happened with Olivia in Afghanistan.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it before. Just gotta put it back together and be certain.”

“Certain of what?”

That was the crux of the problem—he wasn’t sure. He’d been out of the military for more than three years. He wasn’t sure who to turn to with the information he
might
have.

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