Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders 15)
“Guess you wouldn’t know, huh? Since you ain’t been around him for three goddamned years?” Tell shot back.
Thank God for that. Dalton changed the subject. “Can he stay in the rehab wing indefinitely?”
“Guess that’s a week by week thing and we’re back to it bein’ dependent on how his therapy is goin’.”
“There’s no reason for them to keep him if he isn’t making progress,” Tell said. “So they’ll turn him out and make it someone else’s problem.”
“Meaning our problem,” Brandt said.
“Whoa.” Dalton’s gaze winged between his brothers. “Are you actually considering moving him into one of your houses?”
Uncomfortable silence.
How in the hell could either of them even consider that?
“Brandt. Do you need me to remind you that after Luke died he kicked Jessie out? Off the ranch? Out of our lives? He didn’t give a shit if she was homeless. What goes around comes around.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
Dalton looked at Tell. “You’re willing to have that man in your house, around your kids day after day even knowing what he’s capable of? For who knows how f**kin’ long because we all know the man is too goddamned mean to die?”
“Dalton. That’s not helping,” Jessie said quietly.
“Well, it needed to be said because it doesn’t seem like any of you are lookin’ at this from any angle besides guilt.”
“Fine. How would you handle it?” Tell asked.
Their skeptical looks didn’t deter him. “Casper still gets financial compensation from the ranch although he’s retired. If he gets kicked outta the rehab place then he’ll need to be set up in a long-term care facility where he’s not paying for expensive therapy he has no intention of doin’. The place might eat up every bit of his ranch income and anything he might’ve saved up, but it’s the most logical choice.”
“Finally the voice of reason,” Georgia said and reached over to squeeze Dalton’s hand.
Jessie nodded. “It’d be a different situation if Casper was a guy everyone loved. Heck, I’d be fine havin’ him live with us. But he’s not that man. And he’s not gonna change now. Like Dalton said, I suspect Casper will act a whole lot worse.”
“He can suck it up and start doin’ rehab, or he can live in a nursing home.” Dalton looked between his brothers. “So which one of you is gonna tell him?”
“Why you pushing this all off on us?” Tell demanded.
“Because I’m the youngest and he’d discount anything I said.” His phone vibrated. The caller ID read Rory. “Sorry, I hafta take this call.” He excused himself from the table.
Chapter Four
Rory swore she wasn’t going to call Dalton. That’d teach Mr. I-Can-Kiss-You-Anytime-I-Want a lesson.
So why was her phone in her hand?
Because you’re a freakin’ marshmallow when it comes to Dalton McKay.
No, she wasn’t. Not anymore. But after the flashback, she’d wondered where he’d been the past three years. The jerk owed her an explanation. So she’d hear his excuses and move on.
She hit dial before another voice popped into her head with advice.
He answered with, “I knew you’d call me.”
“And there’s the reason I shouldn’t have.”
Dalton laughed. “Don’t hang up on me. Just a sec.”
Rory heard muffled voices in the background.
“Sorry about that.”
“Where are you?”
“At Brandt’s. And you timed this call perfectly because things had started to get a little heated. Anyway, are you working at the Twin Pines tonight?”
“No.”
“Can I see you?”
She fiddled with the straw in her to-go cup. “What do you have in mind?”
“Dinner. Conversation. Friends catching up.” He paused. “Don’t deny there’s unfinished business between us.”
“I don’t. But I’d really like to keep the Sundance and McKay gossip mongers out of our…unfinished business or whatever it is.”
“Which is why I’ll cook for you. I’m renting a house on Royal Street. It’s baby blue with red shutters. Can’t miss it.”
“Aren’t you staying with your brothers or in your old trailer?”
“I gave the trailer up when I left. I’ve been on my own too long to try and follow someone else’s rules. So do you wanna come over right after work? Or do you need to go home first?”
Wearing her less-than-flattering work uniform would reiterate the friendship line. But part of her wanted to saunter in wearing a sexy outfit, even when that’d give Dalton the wrong idea.
“Rory?”
“Sorry, yeah, I’ll need to go home, change and let the dog out.”
“You still have Jingle?”
“Yep. She’s getting up there in years though. Anything you want me to bring?”
“Just yourself. I’m really looking forward to spending time with you, Rory.”
When she almost admitted she felt the same, the angry girl who’d been taken for granted and taken for a ride by this man reared her ugly head and barked out: don’t fall for this because it’s an act; always has been, always will be.
So she said, “See you later,” and hung up.
The rest of the workday dragged ass. Rory wondered if she’d ever get out into the field and utilize what she’d learned earning her degrees. Given she hated this job, it’d be easy to spiral into the my-degrees-are-worthless-what-the-fuck-was-I-thinking school of thought.
After she got home, she poured herself a drink. Standing in front of her tiny closet, she pondered clothing choices. A dress? Trying too hard. Jeans, hiking boots and a flannel shirt? Not trying at all. Rory slipped on her favorite khaki pants, a soft-hued angora sweater in heather brown, and drove into town.
She parked behind his pickup at the seen-better-days house and entered the yard through a chain link fence. She held her hand up to knock only to have the door opened immediately.
Dalton grinned so widely his beard moved. “Hey, gorgeous. Come in.”
Rory started to take her coat off, and Dalton was right there, helping her. “Thanks.”
“No problem. The kitchen is this way.”
The living area didn’t have a stick of furniture. At least the eat-in dining room had a table and chairs.