Tangled (Steele Ranch 3)

Archer moved to the wall, flipped a light switch and the recessed lighting in the ceiling brightened the room now that darkness was setting in. He dropped onto the couch next to me.

“What are you doing here, Cricket?” I asked.

She looked to me, saw fear widen her eyes, then she lifted her chin as if setting her resolve. I wasn’t sure if she were afraid of me or something else. Either way, I appreciated her honesty, even if she didn’t know she was showing it.

“I’m…this is my house. I inherited it.” Her words became more confident as she went on.

Archer, Lee and I all froze, stared. What?

“You’re one of Aiden Steele’s daughters?” I asked. If she’d said she’d been one of the clowns at the Poulson rodeo, I wouldn’t have been more surprised.

She gave a slight shrug of her narrow shoulders, clearly unsure if I thought it was a good or bad thing. “I got a letter last week saying I was.”

“You never knew?” Lee asked, his face a mix of surprise and doubt. It was a little hard to imagine someone didn’t know who her father was, especially someone who lived only a few hours away. But neither Kady or Penny had either.

Lee was the happy-go-lucky one of the three of us. Being a professional bull rider meant he was serious on the back of a bull, but other than that, he was all smiles and easy laughs. He hadn’t seen the shit I had in the military, lived through hell and returned. He didn’t have to deal with shitty people and criminals on a daily basis like Archer. A bull might be pissed at him for tying up his balls and climbing on his back, but the animal never talked back. And once the eight seconds were over, the fight was done. No guns, no bad guys. No fucking roadside IEDs. No nightmares.

She turned her head toward him. “I didn’t know either of my parents. My mother gave me up when I was two months old. I was in foster care until I was eighteen and aged out.”

If her birth certificate did have Aiden Steele’s name listed as father, it would have made Riley’s job as executor of the estate much easier. She’d have been easy to find. Instead, it had taken over six months, I guessed, for his hired investigators to find her. I imagined a younger Cricket in foster care, never having real parents, to feel the love of a mom and dad.

I glanced at Archer and he knew exactly what I was thinking. Being friends a long time, sometimes words weren’t needed. He pulled out his phone, started a text. Riley needed to know she was at the ranch.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

I lifted my hand, slid it down her back, felt the ridges of her spine. “I work here. I train all the horses.”

“And I’m on a break between rodeos. I’m friends with Sutton and Archer. BFFs as the ladies might say. I have a place in Sheridan, but I stable my horse here and crash in the bunk house often enough. Especially between competitions,” Lee added.

“You know my job and like Lee said, these two are my friends,” Archer offered, slipping his cell back in his pocket. “I called Sutton when I took your ID back to the SUV. I needed confirmation you are the Cricket.”

“This is a big coincidence then?” she asked.

I shrugged. “You could call it that.” Fate. Definitely fate.

“What had you so scared?” Archer wondered, his voice shifting to that of authority.

She stiffened, as if she’d been Tased and she pinched her lips together.

“Tell us, baby,” I murmured, trying to keep the balance of getting her to tell us everything and not scaring her away.

“Is this why I’m still in the handcuffs?” she asked, sticking them out toward Archer.

“I told you on the way here, you wanted them on. It makes you feel better, doesn’t it?”

“What? Being cuffed?” she scoffed.

I shook my head. “No, knowing Archer was in charge. That you couldn’t do anything but let him lead. That’s the same way with us now, just as it was that one night. The whole weekend with me. Give us your troubles, baby.”

She bit her lower lip, looked down at the floor.

I glanced at Lee and he gave a slight shrug. It had to be something serious. From what I knew of Cricket, she wasn’t full of drama. She was a straight-shooter. If something was wrong, seriously wrong enough to ask Archer to arrest her, then it was a big deal.

“Not going to tell us?”

Her dark gaze flicked to mine.

“Last chance,” I added.