Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders 15)

Tell’s truck was parked next to Brandt’s. An SUV, probably Georgia’s, was lined up behind it.

For some reason Dalton’s gut knotted climbing the steps.

Jessie opened the door and threw herself into his arms. “Dalton McKay, I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever come home.” She squeezed him tightly—as if she really was happy to see him. When she pulled back, she hastily wiped her tears.

His stomach dropped. “Jess—”

“He missed you, okay?” she whispered. “We all did. It’s been harder on him than he’ll ever admit. Yes, we have our own family now, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t…” She stopped. Inhaled. Smiled. “Sorry. Too soon for this.” She reached up and ruffled his beard. “Brandt warned me, but it in no way prepared me for how different you look.”

“Grizzly Adams is one of the least offensive comparisons that’ve been made,” he said dryly.

“Come in. We’re all bustin’ our buttons for you to meet the newest McKays.”

Dalton wiped off his boots and shrugged out of his Carhartt jacket. When he looked up, he saw Tell with a black-haired boy cocked on his hip.

“Jackson, that’s your Uncle Dalton. You wanna go say hi?”

Jackson yelled, “No!”

“Our two-year-old’s favorite word,” Georgia said behind him.

He turned and grinned at his pregnant sister-in-law. “Is it my brother’s goal to keep you knocked up?”

Georgia hugged him. “It’s a McKay plot, since Jess has another bun in the oven too.”

“Holy sh…shoot.” He glanced over at his brother and sis-in-law. “Congrats.”

Then two boys raced into the room and Jackson squealed to be let down. They skidded to a stop in front of Dalton. Hard to believe the last time he’d seen Tucker the kid had just started walking. He’d never met Wyatt, Brandt and Jessie’s two-and-a-half-year-old son. Tucker looked like Brandt, dark-haired and stocky. Wyatt had lighter hair and Jessie’s hazel eyes. They didn’t look like brothers.

That thought sliced him to the bone because everyone used to say that about him and his brothers.

Not the time nor the place to think about this.

He crouched down. “Hey, guys.”

Jackson joined his cousins in staring at Dalton.

“Why you got that long beard?” Tucker asked. “You hidin’ scars on your face or something?”

Dalton tried not to laugh when he heard Jessie’s sharp, “Tucker McKay, you will apologize to your uncle right now.”

“Sorry.” But Tucker’s narrowed gaze took in every inch of Dalton’s face like he was checking for evidence.

“I don’t s’pose you remember me,” Dalton asked. “I used to babysit you sometimes.”

Tucker shook his head.

“Uncle Dalton sent you the rhinoceros horn, the maracas and the stuffed toy elk,” Jessie prompted.

“Really? That was you?”

“Yep.”

“Where’d you get all that stuff?”

“Picked it up in my travels.”

“Cool. Did you give Wyatt that stuffed grizzly bear?”

“Yes sir. And I gave you—” he poked Jackson in the belly, “—the stuffed buffalo.”

Jackson blinked at him. Up close the kid was a perfect mix of Tell and Georgia. Black hair, icy blue eyes.

“Why’re you here?” Tucker asked.

“Because Grandpa is in the hospital,” Brandt said.

“Are you really my dad’s brother?”

“I really am. I’m Uncle Tell’s brother too.”

“Not the one who died. That’s Landon’s dad, Luke.” He frowned. “How come I don’t remember you?”

“I’ve been gone a while.”

“Why?”

Jesus. Did this kid ever stop asking questions?

“Why don’t you boys go play? You can grill Uncle Dalton later.”

Tucker raced off, Wyatt and Jackson right behind him.

Dalton stood and looked at Brandt and Jessie. “How many questions do you answer a day?”

“Seems like a million. Let’s sit in the dining room.”

Jessie sliced up coffee cake and poured coffee. No one was talking so he looked around the room. How many meals had he eaten in here growing up? How many times had he tiptoed past Casper’s captain’s chair at the head of the table, hoping not to be noticed?

“Dalton?”

He glanced up at Jessie. “The place looks good. This house finally has a happy vibe.”

“We need to talk about Dad,” Tell said, “but I wanna hear what you’ve been up to and why the f**k we haven’t seen you for over three years.”

Georgia whapped his biceps. “That is not a good way to start a conversation, Tell, and you know it.”

Tell was giving Dalton the steely-eyed stare that reminded him a little too much of Casper.

“Sorry, Georgia, but I’m with Tell on this.” Brandt pointed with his fork. “You’re here, so start talkin’.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“The last time we saw you in person was a week after you pulled your runaway groom routine,” Tell reminded him.

“But the last time we actually saw your face was on TV a few months later when you were in the celebrity poker match with Chase,” Brandt added.

Dalton sipped his coffee. “So you, along with the rest of the country, watched me lose the million dollar pot?”

“Made me sick to my stomach just thinkin’ about gambling with that much cash,” Brandt said.

“The buy-in was a hundred grand, right?” Tell asked.

“Yep. Winner-takes-all tournament. Half the buy-in was my money. Chase’s sponsors put the other half up. I’m assuming everyone in the McKay family believed Chase lent me the money and I lost it?”

His brothers and their wives looked at each other.

Just another reason he’d gotten a cool reception from his uncles yesterday. “Due to confidentiality contracts, Chase couldn’t confirm or deny to anyone where the buy-in cash came from. My gag order expired two years after the event. So now I can tell you that I was paid to lose.”

“What? That was all faked?”

Dalton shook his head. “No, they’re real poker games with real stakes. But world championship poker is big business, lots of fans, turning players into celebrities. The operators specialize in holding tournaments in small casinos. Which means advertising dollars pay for most the revenue. A regular Joe can see how the pros do it.”