Texas Tough (The Tylers of Texas 2)

“Sorry.” Lauren had to laugh. “I’ll say no more, except that my father went rushing to the bank this morning to make sure the man hadn’t stopped payment on his check. I’ve learned my lesson. No more political favors for me.”

Sky was silent for a moment. “I take it your father doesn’t know about us—not that there’s much to know.”

The last words stung. Lauren shook her head. “I’m a big girl. I don’t have to tell him everything.”

“He wouldn’t be happy.” It wasn’t a question.

“No, he wouldn’t. But since he chose not to be part of my life, why should it be any of his business?”

Sky didn’t answer. His eyes had taken on a veiled look, as if his thoughts had wandered elsewhere.

“What about your parents?” she asked him. “Do you have family somewhere?”

“My mother died when I was three. My father . . .” The words had taken on an edge. “My father’s dead, too. They weren’t married.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. It is what it is. I was raised by my aunt and uncle in Oklahoma. I still touch base with my cousins, even though I can’t say much for the way they live.”

“And what you do with horses? How did that come about?”

“My grandfather was good with horses. He died when I was twelve, but I owe everything I know to that old man. The most important lesson he taught me was to look at every situation from the horse’s point of view.”

“Empathy, then.”

“I guess that’s the fancy word for it. But I’m not much for talking about myself. How about you?”

Lauren hesitated, knowing she needed to share but unsure where to begin.

“Beau told me you’d been engaged. If that’s too personal—”

“No, I need to say it. He died last year. Jumped off a bridge. He even left me a note—as if that would help.” Lauren was startled by her sudden surge of anger, the first she’d felt toward Mike since his death. What a horrible, selfish thing to have done to the people who loved him.

Sky didn’t speak. Anything he might have said would have been inane.

“That night in the Blue Coyote—it was the one-year anniversary of Mike’s death. I’d had an ugly fight with my father, and it had all come crashing in on me. I just wanted to forget.”

“I figured something like that.”

“I never thanked you for making sure I was all right.”

Sky’s mouth twitched in a hint of a smile. “As I recollect, you weren’t in a grateful mood.”

She glanced down at her hands. “Just so you’ll know, it wasn’t the first time I’d done something like that.”

“We’re all human, Lauren. Sometimes being human hurts.”

They rode in silence for a time, taking in the stillness of the canyon. The shadows were longer now, the sky like a river of flame above the canyon walls. Clumps of cedar, fed by deep roots, grew green in the hollows below the cliffs.

The trail had narrowed. They were riding single file again, but Lauren was sharply aware of Sky’s presence and the heat that flowed between them. Shivers of anticipation rose in the depths of her body. Would he have brought her this far just to look at the petroglyphs?

Where the trail branched off into a side canyon, he paused and waited for her to come even. “Has your father ever mentioned that little canyon?” he asked her. “It used to be part of the Rimrock, but years ago Bull Tyler sold it to your grandfather for one dollar. Nobody knows the whole story, except maybe Jasper, and he’s not telling.”

“So that’s the place.” The opening to the side canyon was screened by brush. If Sky hadn’t pointed it out, Lauren would have ridden past without a second look. “My father told me Will had offered to buy it back.”

Sky nodded. “It’s the only piece of Rimrock land that’s ever been sold. I know Will wants it in the family. But he said your father couldn’t—or wouldn’t—sell. Something about a deathbed promise to your grandfather.”

“I wouldn’t know about that. But I’ve heard of the Spanish gold that’s supposed to be buried there.”