Texas Tough (The Tylers of Texas 2)

The two men sat gazing toward the seep. Sky’s thoughts were focused inward on the story he’d just heard. It was still sinking in, the way things had happened. At least he knew that Bull had loved his mother and that he’d tried to do right by her. But Sky couldn’t help wondering about the paths not followed. Would Bull have married his Marie if she hadn’t left him? Or, if her brother hadn’t stolen the letter and the fifty thousand dollars, would his own life have been different?

Sky had few memories of his mother. But when he’d run away at fifteen, he’d recalled her mentioning Blanco Springs and the Rimrock, so that was where he’d headed. Bull Tyler had taken one look at him, asked about his parents, and hired the scrawny, ragged teen as a stable hand. Bull would have known who he was from the first day. But in life he’d never acknowledged his secret son nor shown him the slightest affection. Now, at least, Sky could begin to understand his reasons.

The question that remained was the most urgent one of all. Was what he’d learned enough to justify his asking Lauren to be his wife?

A jab from Jasper’s elbow jerked Sky’s attention back to the seep. There, strolling out of the scrub within easy range, was a big Tom turkey with his harem of three hens.

Jasper raised the shotgun. Too late Sky remembered that his weapon fired a heftier load than the gun the old man had lost; and when fired, it packed a nasty recoil. They should have taken a few practice shots back at the house so Jasper would know what to expect. Now the birds were here, and it was too late to speak up without spoiling the shot.

Sky had made up his mind to keep quiet when he noticed something. Jasper had the gun stock braced against his shoulder, near the spot where he’d been wounded. The kick from the shotgun would not only hurt, but it might damage healing flesh.

“Stop,” he said softly, putting a hand on Jasper’s arm. But he was too late. Jasper’s finger was already tightening on the trigger. The shotgun roared, the recoil from the blast punching him back against the seat. His yelp of pain was followed by a string of curses as the turkeys scattered, unharmed, into the air.

“Tarnation, that hurt.” He clutched at his shoulder.

“Sorry, I should’ve warned you,” Sky said. “I forgot how hard that gun can kick. Are you okay?”

“I’ll live. And so will the damned turkeys, no thanks to—” He went silent, a blank look stealing across his face.

“Jasper, are you all right?”

The old cowboy managed to nod. His mouth worked as he tried to form his thoughts into words. “It’s that burnt gunpowder smell . . . and the shot, and the pain in my shoulder. Lord, Sky, I remember it all, clear as day! I remember what I saw out here!”

“Calm down and think.” Sky’s own pulse was racing. “You saw the man who shot you.”

“Plain as I see you,” Jasper said. “Tall, thin, long, black hair. Only it wasn’t a man. It was a woman.”

“You’re sure?”

“I may be an old duffer, but I know a female when I see one. She had on a black shirt that showed her figure some, and she had a scar on her face.”

“Think.” Sky forced himself to speak calmly. “When she shot you, could it have been an accident? Could she have been trying to shoot over your head and warn you off?”

Jasper shook his head. “No way in hell. She was lookin’ right down that barrel at me. Woulda hit me in the heart if I hadn’t gone over a little dip. I swear it, Sky. I don’t have a doubt in my mind that woman meant to kill me!”

The gunshot had spooked every bird within a half mile of the seep. “I’m afraid hunting’s over for the day,” Sky said. “We’ll go again soon, I promise. But right now I want to get back and tell Will and Beau what you saw.”

“I’d rather be goin’ back with a turkey if it’s all the same to you.” Jasper was still sour about the missed shot. He muttered and grumbled all the way back to the house.

Beau and Will were eating breakfast when they arrived. “Pull up a chair and join us,” Will said. “There’s plenty.”

While Sky and Jasper washed up, Bernice piled two plates with bacon, scrambled eggs, and hash browns and set them on the table. Sky could only hope that a good breakfast would improve Jasper’s mood. As they ate, he filled Beau and Will in on what had happened and how the old cowboy had regained his memory of the shooting. Jasper chimed in to add details and answer questions. Sky could tell he was enjoying the attention.

“So it was Marie all along, and not Coy who did the shooting.” Will summed up what he’d heard.

“And I’m willing to bet she killed her brother so he wouldn’t talk,” Beau said.

“That, and to frame Nigel so she could clear him and have Stella in her debt,” Sky added. “Marie’s a clever woman.”

“And colder than a rattlesnake,” Will said. “After hearing this, I can imagine she’s capable of anything.”

Sky put down his fork. “Beau, I know you wanted to give Marie more time in the hope of building a solid case and trapping Stella. But we’ve got photos of her boot prints at the seep and we’ve got Jasper as a witness to his own shooting. If nothing else, that should be enough to put her behind bars for attempted murder.” He glanced toward Jasper. “Our friend here deserves justice for what she did to him. I say we call the sheriff, tell him what we know, and have him arrest her.”

“That gets my vote,” Will said. “The sooner that woman’s locked up, the better. Go ahead, Beau. Call him.”

“All right. I’ll call him.” Beau stood, resistance showing in the tight set of his jaw. His expression was one Sky had come to recognize. It wasn’t the decision to call Abner that rankled him. It was taking Will’s constant orders. With the tension and worry brought on by the drought, both brothers were close to the snapping point. Sky could only hope the family—his family—could survive the blowup that was building like thunderheads before a summer storm.

Beau walked out onto the back porch to make the call. Sky could hear his voice through the screen door, but Sky couldn’t make out what he was saying. Minutes later Beau walked back into the house, an impatient scowl on his face.