Texas Fierce (The Tylers of Texas 4)

To the young man who called himself Bull Tyler, this was the country where he’d grown up—the country he’d never wanted to see again.

As Jasper drove the familiar road into Blanco Springs, Bull could see little that had changed. They passed the high school, which he’d left a year short of graduation. There were two churches—Protestant and Catholic, neither of which he’d ever attended. There was the movie theatre he’d snuck into because he was too poor to buy a ticket, and the Blue Coyote Bar, where he’d waited outside in the truck to drive his father home after a drunk.

The little mom-and-pop grocery store was the same, as was the garage and gas station. But there was a shiny new restaurant on Main Street called the Burger Shack. This was where Jasper pulled in, parked, and turned off the engine.

“They’re open for breakfast,” he said. “Might as well fill up and get coffee here. No tellin’ what you’ll find at the ranch.”

“Isn’t Carlos there?” Bull remembered Jasper mentioning the Mexican cook earlier.

“Carlos hasn’t been paid since before your dad went missin’. He promised he’d stay and take care of the stock while I went to look for you, but don’t expect a meal on the table. Come on. We’ll both feel better with somethin’ in our bellies.”

Aching in every joint and muscle, Bull climbed out of the truck and followed Jasper into the restaurant. If Carlos hadn’t been paid, then Jasper probably hadn’t been, either. And what about the other ranch hands? If Carlos was tending to the stock, they’d probably left to find other work.

What was he going home to?

The Burger Shack was clean and cheerful with photos of classic cars on the walls and red Formica-topped tables in the booths. The menu was posted above the counter.

The waitress, a shapely brunette in a pink uniform, gave Bull a look that only a blind man could’ve missed. Bull didn’t miss it—and he didn’t miss seeing the gold band on her finger.

“Howdy, Jasper,” she said. “I see you brought in a new friend. How about an introduction?”

“Sure,” Jasper said. “Bonnie, this here’s young Bull Tyler. Bull, this is Bonnie Treadwell, the best damn waitress this side of the Rio Grande.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Bull said, tipping an invisible hat.

“Tyler?” Her eyebrows rose slightly. “Then this must be Williston’s boy. I’d know those blue eyes anywhere.”

“That’s right,” Jasper said. “If you’re ready to take our order, we’ll have coffee and two breakfast specials.”

“Comin’ up,” she said. “And I’m right sorry about your father, Bull.”

Bull already had his wallet out to pay. He handed her a twenty. She brushed his hand as she took the bill. Up close she looked about thirty, but she was pretty enough to stir a tingle with her touch. His gaze caught the sway of her hips as she walked back toward the counter.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jasper said. “She’s married and she’s trouble.”

“Not to worry. Don’t get me wrong, I like the ladies. I’ve had my share of the kind that hang around rodeos waiting to give a bull bucker a different kind of ride. But I know better than to mess with other men’s wives.”

“Smart.” Jasper glanced toward the counter where Bonnie was setting up their coffee mugs on a tray with cream and sugar. “Her husband’s a trucker. Good man. Loves her like crazy. But when he’s on the road she gets lonesome, and she’s got a powerful itch for young cowboys. Not that I know firsthand, mind you, but I’ve heard the other guys talk. Trust me, you don’t want to get involved with her.”

“Got it. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bonnie brought the coffee mugs and set them on the table along with change from the twenty. Her breast brushed Bull’s shoulder as she leaned over to pour the coffee. He willed himself to ignore the tug of arousal that tightened his jeans.

“You haven’t said much about the ranch, Jasper,” he said as Bonnie sashayed back to the counter to greet an older couple. “If the news is bad, I might as well hear it now.”

Jasper added two packets of sugar to his coffee, stirred it, and took a sip.

“It is bad, isn’t it?” Bull said.

Jasper nodded, pausing to take a breath. “You knew your dad was a drinker.”

“Yeah. But he pretty much kept it under control, didn’t he?”

“For the first few years I knew him, he did. But after you left home, it got worse. He stopped fixin’ up the place, let the sheds and fences fall to ruin, stopped clearin’ pasture, and quit workin’ on the house. He cleaned out whatever was in the bank to feed the stock and pay the men. When that was gone, he started sellin’ off the cattle and horses.”

Bull felt a hollow burn below his ribs, as if the coffee in his stomach had turned to acid. The Rimrock had never been a showplace of good management, but at spring roundup, before he left, there’d been at least four hundred head of Hereford cattle on the range. It had never crossed his mind that conditions would go downhill—and so fast.

“How many cattle are there now?” he forced himself to ask.