Texas Tall (The Tylers of Texas 3)

Her chin went up in defiance. “Stop badgering me, Will. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

He stood his ground, his silence asking the unspoken question that hung between them.

Tori’s patience snapped. “For your information, I haven’t slept with the man. If I decide to—which I might—that will be none of your business, Will Tyler. Now get out of my way. I want to check on Erin. Then I’m going to sleep.”

Ignoring the knot in his gut, Will stepped aside to let her get by. Part of him ached to crush her in his arms, sweep her off to his bed, and stake his claim on her all over again. But the time when that might have happened was long past. Tori would never be his again.

As they passed in the entrance to the hallway, something awakened and cried out in him. He reached out and caught her cheek with his hand, lightly cupping her face, lifting it to the pale light that filtered from the front window. The pupils of her eyes were large and dark, her lips moistly swollen. He ached to bend close, to brush those lips with his, but she pulled back with a sharp little breath, shook her head, and fled down the hall toward Erin’s room.

* * *

The next day was Sunday. Although the Tylers weren’t big on church attendance, Sunday dinner on the Rimrock was an honored tradition. It was a time when the family, and those who counted as family, gathered around the dining-room table in relative peace to celebrate their blessings.

Lauren Prescott raised her bowed head after Jasper droned the usual grace over the food. She’d been included since the past summer, when her old family home had gone up in flames and Sky had asked her to marry him. The Tylers always welcomed her, but even after more than three months of being engaged to Sky, she still felt like an interloper.

As family and friends helped themselves to roast beef, potatoes and gravy, salad, and fresh hot rolls, Lauren’s gaze drifted around the table. Beau, seated across from her with his wife, had been her friend and champion since last spring when he’d hired her accounting skills for the ranch. But Natalie, petite and dark-eyed, her pregnancy beginning to show, was so busy with her veterinary practice and her new marriage that Lauren had scarcely gotten to know her.

Tori had become Lauren’s friend after helping her find an apartment in town. But Tori, in her own way, was also an outsider here. Today the tension hung heavy between her and Will. Something was going on between them. It showed in the way they avoided each other’s eyes, the way they spoke not to each other but to their daughter.

Flanked by her parents, Erin basked in the love of everyone at the table. She might not realize it, but Will’s daughter was the glue that held the ranch family together, the bond that brought them here and made them—for this brief time—one.

Bernice sat closest to the kitchen. She’d always been kind and friendly. But her brother, Jasper, had never warmed to Lauren—and Lauren understood why. For three generations the Tylers and the Prescotts had been bitter enemies. Jasper remembered every wrong, every misdeed, every dispute, from the beginning. Trust a skunk before you trust a Prescott, he was known to say, though not to Lauren’s face.

Bull Tyler and Ferguson Prescott, Lauren’s grandfather, had started the feud. Both men were dead now, but the animosity remained. When Lauren’s father, the late congressman Garn Prescott, had died this summer, Jasper had refused to attend the burial service. Though he’d been at the graveside, Will, too, had had his own issues with the congressman. Now, as the only living descendant of Ferg Prescott and his son, Garn, Lauren carried a heavy burden of past family sins. Only time would tell what that burden would cost her.

She felt the light press of a hand on her knee. Seated next to her, Sky gave her his secret smile. She reached under the edge of the tablecloth and brushed the back of his hand in a furtive caress. Her history and Sky’s were intertwined in ways neither of them could have imagined when they’d first met. That hidden bond made her love him all the more. She could hardly wait to become his wife. Maybe then they could start anew and put the old family scandals to rest.

“How’s the new house coming along, Sky?” It was Beau who asked the question. “I’ve meant to ride over and take a look now that the fall roundup’s done.”

“The outside’s finished,” Sky said, “as well as the plumbing, heating, and wiring. Once the Sheetrock’s up and prepped, I can turn Lauren loose on the inside.”

“I’ll be in decorator heaven!” Lauren said. “We’ll have a big housewarming when it’s done!”

Sky had wanted to build his bride an entire house with his own hands, but his responsibilities on the Rimrock had made that impractical. Under his supervision, the crew he’d hired to put in a well and septic tank, run the power line and construct the log house, with its broad, covered front porch, was doing a fine job. The place wouldn’t be big and sprawling like the Tyler home, but with Lauren dipping into her inheritance to decorate the rustic interior, it would be beautifully finished and comfortably furnished.

Will had been uncharacteristically quiet througho

ut the meal. Sky had told Lauren about the shooting of Stella Rawlins’s brother and the possible consequences. No wonder Will looked so troubled. Lauren could sympathize with him. Stella, she suspected, had ruined her father’s reputation and contributed to his death. As always there was no proof against her, but if rumors were true, the woman was as dangerous as a coiled rattlesnake. And now she’d be out to avenge her brother by hurting Will any way she could—starting with the law.

* * *

Will walked into the room that served as the Rimrock office and closed the door behind him. He usually looked forward to Sunday dinners, but today’s meal had been an ordeal of silence and small talk, with everyone avoiding the one topic that was on their minds—the shooting and what was going to happen next.

Will had excused himself at the end of the meal, muttering something about the need to use the office computer; but the truth was, he’d just wanted to be alone and think things out. Until yesterday he’d felt certain that he’d acted in self-defense, and any case against him would be dismissed. But yesterday’s senseless grilling from Abner had changed his mind.

For whatever reason, the sneaky little toad was out to get him.

Sitting, he switched on the computer and brought up a search engine. He spent the next half hour reading up on Texas law, the inquest process, and the precedents for charges that could stem from an incident like the one he’d been involved in. What he found wasn’t encouraging. By pulling the trigger a split second too soon, he might have left himself vulnerable.

With a muttered curse he switched off the machine. Most of what he’d read, he could’ve learned from Tori. But now that she had a new man in her life, he couldn’t expect her to drop everything and come running whenever he needed her. And unless her help involved protecting Erin, he had too much pride to ask.

A new man in her life.

The thought deepened the dark hollow Will felt inside. He and Tori were past history, but even now, the thought of Drew Middleton, or any man, taking her away was like having the earth slide out from under his feet. Tori was a beautiful woman, and sooner or later, this was bound to happen. But why the hell did it have to happen now?

Swiveling the chair, he gazed up at the leather-framed sepia-toned photograph on the wall. Bull Tyler had refused to sit for a painted portrait, like the one of his wife that hung above the sideboard in the dining room. But years ago, when he’d been featured in a magazine article about Texas ranching, he’d agreed to be photographed.

The picture, taken when Bull was fifty, showed a handsome, vigorous man in his prime. Dressed in a corduroy jacket, plaid shirt, and leather bolo, and sporting a well-trimmed moustache, he emanated authority. His piercing gaze, from under thick, dark eyebrows, challenged any comer to take him on.