If it didn’t hurt so bad he’d laugh at the irony.
A week after Operation: Grace had gone down in flames, Liam invited him to the Texas Cattlemen’s Club for an afternoon of “getting away from it all” as Liam put it. Curious about the club his grandfather had belonged to, and now Liam, too, apparently, Kyle agreed, with the caveat that they’d only stay a couple of hours tops. The cattle weren’t going to tend themselves, after all.
The moment Kyle walked into the formerly men-only club, the outside world ceased to exist. Dark hardwood floors stretched from wall to wall, reflecting the pale gold wallpaper that warmed the place. It was welcoming and hushed, as if the room was waiting for something important to happen. The sense of anticipation was compelling.
Kyle followed Liam to the bar, where some other men sat nursing beers. Kyle recognized Mac McCallum, who’d been Liam’s buddy for a long time, and Case Baxter.
“Case is the president of the Texas Cattlemen’s Club,” Liam said as he introduced everyone around. “And this is Nolan Dane.”
“Right.” Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m back in town, practicing family law now,” Nolan explained with a glance at Liam. “Your brother’s a client.”
Kyle nodded as his lungs hitched. Liam had a legal retainer who practiced family law? Didn’t take a rocket scientist to do that math. When Liam had talked about papers and warned Kyle he’d need a lawyer, it hadn’t been an idle threat. They hadn’t talked about it again, and Kyle had hoped the idea of adoption had been dropped.
Obviously it hadn’t.
But why stick it in Kyle’s face like this? It was a crappy thing to do after all the hoops Kyle’d been forced to jump through to prove his worth as a father. Especially after they’d had their Come To Jesus discussion and Liam had apologized for the Grace thing.
Wasn’t that indicative of Kyle’s Royal welcome thus far? That’s why he shot first. When he didn’t, he invariably took a bullet straight into his gut.
Mouth firmly shut as he processed everything, Kyle took a seat as far away from Liam as he could. When the conversation turned to Samson Oil, it piqued his interest sufficiently to pull his head out of his rear long enough to participate. Especially when Nolan Dane excused himself with a pained look on his face.
“More offers for land coming in,” Liam affirmed. “Wade Ranch included. I think we’ve got a problem on our hands.”
The other men seemed to share his brother’s concern. Kyle leaned in. “What does Samson Oil want? They have to know the oil prospects are slim to none around here. People been drilling for over a hundred years. There’s no way Samson will find a new well.”
Case Baxter shook his head. “No one knows for sure what they’re up to. Fracking, maybe. But the Cline Shale property is mostly bought up already in this area.”
“If you’ve got concerns, I’ve got concerns,” Kyle said as his senses tingled again. “I know a guy in the CIA. Owes me a favor. I’ll have him poke around, see what Samson Oil is up to.”
The offer was out of his mouth before he’d thought better of it. He didn’t owe these people anything. It wasn’t as if they’d rolled out the red carpet for the returning war veteran. Or acknowledged that Kyle Wade owned half a cattle ranch and wasn’t even a member of the Texas Cattleman’s Club.
Royal clearly wasn’t where Kyle fit, any more than he had ten years ago.
“I knew you’d come in handy.” Liam fairly beamed.
“That would be great,” Mac threw in. “The more information we have, the better. The last thing we need is to find out they’re looking for a site to house a new strip mall after it’s too late.”
The expectant faces of the men surrounding him settled Kyle’s resolve. He couldn’t take it back now. And for better or worse, this was his home, and he had a responsibility to it. He shrugged.
“Consider it done.” Kyle sat back and let the members of the club do their thing, which didn’t include him. If he kept his mouth shut, maybe everyone would forget about him. It wasn’t as if he wanted to be a member of their exclusive club anyway.
But then Liam’s phone beeped, and he glanced at it, frowning. When his grave and troubled gaze met Kyle’s, every nerve in Kyle’s body stood on end.
“We have to go,” Liam announced. “Sorry.”
Liam hustled Kyle out of the club and into his truck, ignoring Kyle’s rapid-fire questions about the nature of the emergency. Because of course there was one. Liam’s face only looked like that when something bad happened to one of his prized horses.