Had he? Driving home, he’d felt so sure of himself. But now, surrounded by memories of the place where he’d grown up, he could almost hear his father’s voice.
Can’t you do one damned thing right? You’re worthless, boy! You’ll never amount to a hill of beans!
What if his father had been right? What if he was taking on more than he could handle?
“I haven’t made up my mind yet,” he said. “But I might as well get a few things done while I’m thinking it over.”
“I reckon that’ll have to do for now,” Jasper said. “Your old room’s ready with clean sheets on the bed. You can put your gear in there. Your dad’s old forty-four is in his desk. With all that’s been goin’ on ’round here, you’ll want to keep it handy.”
“Thanks, Jasper. I’ll get my duffel after we’ve unloaded the hay and fed the stock. Fix yourself some lunch if you’re hungry. I had a burger in town. Did I tell you I ran into Ferg?”
“How’d that go?”
“About the way you’d expect. He’s the same spoiled shithead he always was.”
“Not that hard to figure out, is he?” Jasper scratched his mustache. “You said you wanted to see where we found your dad. I can take you anytime, but we’ll have to hike from the truck. Those horses ain’t in any shape for ridin’ yet.”
“It can wait till morning, when it’s cooler. Meanwhile, we need to get more feed to the stock and bury that dead calf. Then, if there’s enough daylight left, I’ll see what I can do about fixing those vanes on the windmill and oiling the pump. That should get us more water pressure, and—” He broke off, puzzled by the grin on Jasper’s face. “What the hell have you got to be so happy about?” he growled.
Jasper shrugged. “Nuthin’ much. Just thinkin’ how good it is to have you home, Bull Tyler.”
* * *
A waning half-moon rose above the escarpment, casting the gullies and canyons into a black shadow. Coyote calls echoed across the foothills, one joining another in a nighttime chorus of yips and howls. An owl swooped on silent wings to seize a ground squirrel in its talons and flap off to its nest.
In Blanco Springs, the houses were dark. The lamps along Main Street cast empty circles of light on the sidewalk. Even the Blue Coyote was closed, its parking lot empty, its neon sign sputtering on and off, unseen and unheard.
Three blocks away, in a small house on a quiet side street, Ferg Prescott rolled over in the bed where he’d just had wild sex with Bonnie. “Gotta go,” he muttered, pleasantly sated.
“Why so soon?” she whispered against his ear. “Danny won’t be home till tomorrow.”
“You know why. You’ve got nosy neighbors, people driving by. If we get caught, it’s all over.”
“Don’t go yet,” she pleaded. “A woman needs a little snuggling after a good time. It was good, wasn’t it?”
“It’s always good. The best.” Ferg sighed. Sure, it was good. It was sex, wasn’t it?
She nestled against him, her flesh warm and yielding, like risen bread dough. Ferg liked her well enough, and she knew how to give him what he wanted. But at thirty, she was overripe and past her prime—especially for a man who liked his women young, firm, and tight where it counted.
“I saw what you were doing today,” he said. “And I didn’t like it, not one damn bit.”
“What didn’t you like, honey? I’m not a mind reader.”
“The way you were rubbing up to that cowboy in the café—you know, showing off your boobs, giving him free fries.”
“Heck, I was only having fun. It didn’t mean anything. You know me, it’s just my way. Besides, you had a girl with you.”
“Her? She’s a baby. Just a kid. And she’s my cousin.”
“Not your real cousin. I heard what you said about her.”
“So you heard, did you?” Ferg rolled over and leaned on his elbows, scowling down at her. ?
?Well, if you want to make me happy, you can put those ears of yours to good use. I need to know more about what Bull Tyler is up to. Anything you hear about his plans and how his ranch is doing, you let me know. And if you can find out more by getting cozy with him, I’ll understand. Got it?”
She gave him a lazy smile. “What’s in it for me, sugar?”
“What do you think?”