Texas Tough (The Tylers of Texas 2)

As Sky had expected, the Blue Coyote’s parking lot was full and the bar was jammed. On the TV screen was a regional championship bull riding competition. Since some local cowboys were involved, there was a lot of whooping, cheering, and informal betting. There was no place to sit. Sky found an empty place to stand near the door and looked around.

Nigel, the tattooed skinhead who served as bartender and bouncer, was filling glasses as fast as his customers could empty them. Stella, who owned the bar, was busy playing hostess.

“Hello, Blue Eyes! Where’ve you been keeping yourself?” She’d spotted Sky through the crowd and was working her way toward him. A handsome, buxom female in her forties with flame-dyed hair and overdone makeup, she looked—and acted—like the town floozy. But Sky knew better than to underestimate her. Nothing escaped those sharp, absinthe eyes.

“What’s your pleasure? I’ll see that you get it pronto. And if you’d like to stick around till after closing . . .” She winked, then laughed, leaving a wisp of doubt that her outrageous flirting had been a joke. For a woman who’d been sleeping with Hoyt Axelrod, and who surely knew he was dead, she didn’t seem to be grieving much. Sky wouldn’t put it past her to have ordered the ex-sheriff killed.

But as he already knew, there wasn’t a shred of proof against the woman.

Sky fished a bill out of his wallet. “I’ll have a Corona,” he said. “No need to bring the glass.”

“You’ve got it, honey!” Turning, she snapped her fingers to catch the ear of the busy waitress. “Over here! A bottle of Corona for my handsome friend!”

Following her gaze through the crowd, Sky glimpsed the waitress from behind. Tall and boyishly lean, her stringy, black hair twisted up with a plastic clip, she was dressed in ragged jeans and a black T-shirt. He didn’t remember having seen her before, but he hadn’t been to town in a while. Waitresses tended not to last long at the Blue Coyote. Stella drove them hard, and the men, some at least, considered the girls fair game.

The new girl had vanished in the direction of the bar. Stella lingered next to Sky, greeting people as they walked in the door. She was a shrewd businesswoman and made it a point to know her customers. Some she gave nicknames. Sky had been “Blue Eyes” from the first time she noticed him.

The waitress was coming back, balancing Sky’s beer, along with other drinks, on a tray held above the heads of the crowd. Sky’s gaze traveled from the tray, down her upraised arm to her face—strong-boned with fierce, black eyes and a thin, white scar, like the slash of a knife, running down the left side from temple to chin.

Years had passed since he’d last seen her, but Sky’s heart slammed with the shock of recognition. His eyes searched for, and found, the tiny white mark in the center of her forehead, a souvenir of the time she’d fallen as a toddler and struck a sharp rock. The years had changed her, and not for the better. But there could be no room for doubt.

It was Marie.

CHAPTER 5

Sky waited for some sign of recognition, but Marie’s scarred face was a mask of indifference. There was no way she wouldn’t know him, but for some reason she kept it to herself. Until he learned more, he’d be wise to play along.

Lowering the tray, she handed him the open bottle. He passed her the ten-dollar bill in his hand. “Keep the change,” he said.

“Thanks.” Something flickered in her eyes as she turned away—a cold, animal wariness.

Stella lingered beside him, a sphinxlike smile on her painted face. Did she know her waitress was the sister of Lute Fletcher, the twenty-one-year-old boy she’d hired and likely set up to be murdered by Hoyt Axelrod? Stella Rawlins was a master manipulator who played her cards close to her ample bosom. If she suspected the truth, Marie could be in more danger than she knew.

With a saucy parting smile, Stella sashayed off to tend to other customers. Finding a newly emptied table, Sky sat down to finish his beer and wait for Will’s phone call. He glimpsed Marie weaving her way through the crowd, but she didn’t try to come near him or even to make eye contact.

Whatever cards life had dealt her, she must’ve had a rough time of it. The nervous eyes, the slashing scar, and the fact that she’d taken this menial job spoke more than words about her condition.

There was no way her showing up here could be a coincidence. But had she come to Blanco Springs to avenge her brother, or for some even darker purpose? Had she dropped the pocketknife by accident, or had she left it for Sky to find, knowing it would lead him to her?

And what was her connection to Jasper’s shooting?

So many questions. And his only hope of getting answers was to talk with Marie alone. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight—not with the bar packed, Stella on alert, and Will due to pick him up soon. His best chance would be to come back here tomorrow, before the night crowd gathered, maybe pass her a note and arrange a discreet meeting somewhere.

And then what? If he didn’t like her story, he would have some hard decisions to make. Blood cousin or not, his first loyalty was to the Tylers. But when he thought of Marie, it was that sad-eyed little girl, begging him not to leave, who came to mind. If the ugly truth demanded it, could he turn his back on her again? If she gave him her trust, could he use it to betray her?

He needed to decide now, before he got pulled in any deeper. If the answer was no, he’d be better off walking away tonight and forgetting he’d seen her.

Will dropped Beau off at Natalie’s house on the far edge of town. As he watched his brother stride up the walk, a spring of anticipation in his step, he couldn’t suppress a twinge of envy. It had been a long time since he’d spent a night making love to the woman he adored, drifting off to sleep in her arms and waking up to the sweet sight of her face on the pillow.

But Tori had made her decision. So had he, and there was nothing more to be said. At least they had Erin to show for their train wreck of a marriage. Their daughter had been worth it all.

Tori’s split-level frame house was ten minutes from Natalie’s. The two women had gone through school together and were fast friends, along with Beau, who was the same age. Will, six years older, had never been a part of their tightly knit gang of three. Even as a teenager his duties on the ranch had come first, before friends, fun, sports, and social life. In the end, that had been part of the problem with Tori. But not all of it.

Forcing the thought aside, he pulled the pickup into the driveway. Switching off the ignition and the lights, he mounted the porch steps and rang the front doorbell. Over the years, he and Tori had arrived at an armed truce, which they maintained for their daughter’s sake. They rarely clashed these days, but the tension Will felt every time he was about to see her would never go away.

By mutual agreement, Erin’s summers were spent on the ranch with Will. This week, however, a dentist appointment and a friend’s birthday party, along with Jasper’s crisis, had made it more convenient for her to stay with her mother. Will had missed her. In a life of responsibility and hard work, Erin was his sunshine.