Texas Tough (The Tylers of Texas 2)

“I got Abner on his cell phone,” he said. “He’s at a law enforcement conference in Austin, won’t be back till Monday.”

“Can’t he just have his deputies make the arrest?” Sky asked.

Beau shook his head. “I told him what we’d learned and what we suspected. But Abner wants to handle this business in person. With the election coming up, you can guess why. As long as Marie doesn’t know we’re on to her, he doesn’t think it’ll hurt to wait a few more days.”

“Abner’s a fool,” Will said. “Anything could happen between now and the time he gets back.”

“Tell that to Abner.” Beau shrugged and sat down to finish his breakfast. “Why don’t you call him? Maybe you’ll have better luck than I did.”

Will didn’t answer. The air between the two brothers crackled with tension. Sky didn’t like it, but he knew better than to interfere. Trying to calm the pair would only make things worse.

And he had his own share of worries. He’d lost all sympathy for Marie. But there were other concerns—the horses that needed training, the evacuation plans in case of fire....

And there was Lauren. Lauren most of all.

On Friday afternoon Sky, who’d been working sixteen-hour days with the horses, took some needed time off to pick up Lauren at the hospital and stay with her. Will had invited her to recover at the ranch, but she asked Sky to pass on her thanks and insisted she’d rest better at home.

“That’s fine,” Will told Sky over the phone. “But let her know she’s expected here for Sunday dinner. The girl might as well know what she’ll be in for if she decides to stick around.”

Now where had that come from? Sky wondered as the phone call ended. He’d tried to hide his plan to propose to Lauren, but if Will could read him so easily, the secret must be out.

Lauren’s cracked ribs were still painful, the gash on her head stitched and bandaged with surgical tape. Sky had hoped she’d have the good sense to lie down and nap, but he should’ve known better. She spent most of the time going over the details of Monday’s funeral—the program for the modest service, the grave in the family plot, which Sky planned to dig with the small backhoe borrowed from the Rimrock, the condition of the house and yard, and the catered buffet to be served after the burial. And she hadn’t forgotten Storm Cloud. She wasn’t well enough to ride, but she’d visited his stall to groom him and feed him a carrot.

Although flowers and cards were already pouring in, the gathering at the graveside wouldn’t be a large one. Most of the senders, including the governor and the Texas congressional delegation, had sent sympathies and regrets. With an election coming up, nobody wanted to be seen or photographed at Garn Prescott’s funeral. His campaign staff would likely be at the service in Lubbock, and some of the syndicate crew would drop by the house to pay their respects and sample the buffet. But it was sad to discover how few true friends the man had.

Bernice had sent over

some lasagna and salad for supper. As the twilight deepened outside, Sky took the warmed casserole dish out of the oven and set two places at the dining room table and Lauren found another bottle of vintage wine in the cabinet.

Sky had yet to tell her the story of his parents. He’d meant to do it this afternoon, but the right moment hadn’t come. As he helped Lauren with her chair, he realized there might never be a better time than now.

But how could he begin? He gazed at the lovely, impassive face in the photo above the table, as if silently asking for help.

“She was very beautiful, wasn’t she?” Lauren said.

“She was my mother, Lauren.”

Lauren smiled. “I’d already guessed as much. You look so much like her, that dark coloring and those high cheekbones. But where did you get those deep blue eyes? That’s what I’d like to know.”

Incredibly, she’d opened the way. Sky let the words flow, repeating everything Jasper had told him—his mother’s affair with Bull Tyler, how she’d left Texas when she learned she was pregnant, and how Ferg Prescott, Lauren’s own grandfather, had blackmailed Bull out of that canyon land. He told it all from awkward beginning to painful end, how his aunt and uncle had stolen the money Bull sent, and how his mother had died, leaving her son to grow up in a family of abusers and criminals. He told her how he’d run away at fifteen and come to the Rimrock, where the father who never acknowledged him in life had taken him in, given him work, and willed him his own piece of land.

When he’d finished, Sky waited in silence, half expecting her to be repelled by the sordid story—and by him, the illegitimate son of her grandfather’s servant.

At last she spoke. “So Will and Beau don’t know you’re their brother.”

“If Bull had wanted them to know, I figure he wouldn’t have deeded your grandpa that land. They won’t hear it from me—and not from you, either, I trust, now that you know.”

“Of course not. . . .” Her voice broke on the last word. Tears glimmered in her copper-flecked eyes. “Oh, Sky!”

Lauren rose, walked around to his chair, slid onto his lap, and circled him with her arms. She held him tightly, pressing his face into the warm hollow between her breasts. For a long time they stayed like that, both of them trembling. Sky breathed in her sweet, musky aroma, filling his senses. She smelled like love, he thought.

He could ask her to marry him now. But no, he wanted to do it right, after she’d healed and after he’d had the chance to buy her a ring. The whole schmaltzy knee-on-the-ground thing—he’d always thought it looked silly, but he wanted to do it all.

Some things were worth taking time.

CHAPTER 18

Lauren gazed around the Tylers’ Sunday dinner table, grateful for the good people who’d done their best to make her feel welcome here. Her eyes lingered briefly on each face. Will, at the head of the table, seemed to have aged since she’d met him. The creases had deepened at the corners of his eyes, and his dark brown hair was showing strands of gray. Worry over the drought was taking its toll on the boss of the Rimrock.