Texas Fierce (The Tylers of Texas 4)

“Yes, they could be helpful,” Susan agreed. “Would you like me to drop them off at the sheriff’s office?”

“Not there. I don’t trust those birds. Take ’em to Ned Purvis. He’ll know what to do.”

“I’ll take them by on the way home after the funeral.” She accepted the bandanna and put it in her purse.

“Thanks,” he said. “We both want to help Bull any way we can.” His wise eyes met hers. In that moment, Susan realized that Jasper had begun to trust her. They were becoming a team.

* * *

Ham Prescott’s funeral was to be held at the Blessed Harmony Church. Ham had never been a churchgoer, but since the pastor was Ferg’s father-in-law, it was a natural choice.

As she drove into the weedy parking lot, Susan was surprised at the small number of cars. She’d made it a point not to arrive early. Still, the lot was less than a third full. Ham had made more enemies than friends in his fifty-odd years of life, or so it seemed.

The organ was playing as she walked in the back door. Her gaze swept over the pews, seeking her parents. They were already upset with her. If she didn’t sit with them, they would be even angrier.

In the third row, she spotted Vivian’s lacy, black funeral hat. Next to her was an empty seat. Susan slunk down the aisle and slipped into place. Her mother’s narrow-eyed look and her father’s scowl spoke volumes. But at least, since the service was starting, they couldn’t lecture her.

The casket was closed. The only speaker appeared to be the reverend. As he droned on and on, eulogizing a man he’d barely known, Susan’s gaze wandered to the front row, where Ferg sat with his new family. His wife was pretty in a conservative sort of way, her plain black dress accentuating her pale skin. Her shapeless black hat was pinned to her wheaten hair, which she’d twisted into a bun. She sat with her arm around her son, who bore more of a resemblance to his preacher grandfather than to the man who’d sired him.

Susan avoided looking at Ferg. Even the back of his head—glossy chestnut hair curling low on his neck—awakened memories of terror, rage, and disgust.

After the service, cars and pickups followed the hearse in a solemn parade through town and out to the Prescott family cemetery on the ranch. After Ham was laid to rest beside his late wife, friends and family drove back to the house to eat barbecue, drink, and unwind. So far, Susan had avoided the clash with her parents. But sure as night followed sundown, it was coming, and she knew it wouldn’t be pretty. She needed to talk to Ferg, too—something she dreaded even more.

Anxiety had robbed her of her appetite. She nibbled at the beef, bread, and salad on her plate, barely tasting the food. Giving up, she abandoned her plate on a side table, picked a cold Tab from a tub of iced drinks, and wandered out onto the porch. With a sigh, she opened the can and leaned against the porch rail. How easy it would be to just go out to her Mustang, get in, and drive off. But that would be taking the coward’s way out. She needed to resolve things with her parents once and for all. And she owed it to Bull to ferret out whatever she could learn from Ferg.

“There you are, young lady!” Her mother’s voice shattered Susan’s temporary peace. “You’ve got some explaining to do!”

“I explained in my note,” Susan said. “I came back to Texas to be here for Bull. He’s innocent, and I’m doing my best to prove it.”

“Innocent? That’s nonsense!” Susan’s father had followed his wife outside. Looking tired, he sank into a chair. “Ham named Bull as his killer before he died. There’s no question of his guilt.”

“It isn’t true,” Susan said. “But that’s all I can tell you.”

“Well, never mind, dear.” Her mother laid a controlling hand on her arm. “Once we get you home again, you’ll look back and realize this was all a silly mistake. You’ll forget about it, and so will we.”

“But I’m not going home, Mother. I’m staying here.”

Vivian gasped, looking faint. “You can’t stay here! What about college?”

“College can wait. I’ve moved to the Rimrock, to be there for Bull.”

“Enough of this foolishness!” Her father rose. “We’ve got your plane ticket home. You’re coming with us tonight.”

Susan lifted her chin, eyes meeting her father’s stern gaze. “No. I’m sorry, Dad, but I’m not leaving.”

“If it’s your damned car you’re worried about, forget it. We’ll buy you another one.”

“It’s not the car. I’m staying for Bull. I love him.”

“But darling, you’re our only child!” Vivian’s grip tightened on Susan’s arm. “How can you do this to us—especially given your father’s health?”

Susan took a deep breath. “I love you both. I always will. But I won’t be responsible for your happiness. And I won’t let you manipulate me with guilt. I’ve made my choice. I’ve chosen Bull.”

Her mother’s hand dropped from her arm. Her father’s eyes had gone cold. “This is your last chance, Susan,” he said. “Either you forget Bull Tyler and come home now, or you’ll no longer be welcome in our home. You won’t receive another cent from us, and if you marry that murderer who killed my brother, you’ll be written out of our will. It will be as if we never had a daughter.”

Stunned but resolute, Susan shook her head. “I’m sorry, but my mind’s made up. I’m not going home with you.”

“We’ll mail your things,” her father said.