Lone Star Wedding (18 page)

He glanced all around. The Cassidy women were out of sight. And none of the ranch hands was around. Not that he would have cared if one of them could see the fit of his jeans. He was a man, and men had urges. Nothing wrong with that. Oh, he might fantasize about sex, but Clint Lockhart didn't have to use force to get it when he needed it. As soon as he had a night free, he was going to pay Sophia a visit at her room in the Austin Arms. Chances were she was as hard up for it as he was.

Meanwhile, he had to be patient.

Casting another glance over land that should have been his, he turned to leave. The glare of sunlight reflected off an object lying in the tall grass just outside the corral. He strode to the fence, slipped through two boards. Going down on his haunches, he eyed the delicate gold bracelet and intricately cut rubies glinting in the sun.

He recognized the bracelet as one he'd seen on Lily's
wrist earlier. Must have fallen off when she closed the gate. Fairly certain that no one was looking, he removed one glove with his teeth, and picked up the bracelet, as well as a small stone. He pitched the stone into the distance, and discreetly dropped the bracelet into the front pocket of his jeans.

He'd been told he had a hard, cold-eyed smile. One corner of his lip twisted upward as he ran his hand over the pocket now housing Lily's bracelet. Ah, yes, a man never knew when something he saw or heard today was going to come in handy.

 

“Mom?”

Lily glanced sideways at Hannah. She'd heard the uncertainty in her older daughter's voice, saw it in the way she bit her lip. Hannah was worried, and there was more to it than her fear of riding.

“What is it, Hannah?”

“Do you think Maria is healthy?”

Keeping her voice quiet, Lily said, “She looked thin the other night, but I thought she seemed well, didn't you?”

Hannah took a deep breath, her eyes straight ahead. “I don't mean physically healthy, Mom.”

“What then? Hannah, for heaven's sake. What's going on?” Lily reached a hand to Hannah, taking her reins. “Whoa,” she murmured to both horses.

Finally, Hannah met her mother's gaze. “I don't want to do anything to hurt Maria, but do you remember all the times we used to say she was in one of her black moods? Looking back, I wonder if that was normal. She always wanted to be the center of attention. She was always upset about something, always scheming or ranting and raving.”

“What are you saying?”

Hannah took another deep breath and mentally kicked
herself. She wasn't saying anything very well. In the process, she was scaring her mother to death. “Maria said something to Parker the other night, and frankly, I don't know what to think. I've tried to reach her. She won't return my calls. I can't help but wonder why she does and says the things she does. And why doesn't she ever let us come to see her? Or come to see us? Why is she so secretive? What could she be hiding?”

Lily's eyes were round now, her face pale, the fingers of one hand circling her wrist. She froze for a moment, her gaze finally going to her hand.

“Mom, what's wrong?”

“My bracelet.”

Hannah glanced at her mother's wrist where the bracelet had been when she'd first arrived at the ranch. “I saw it on your wrist in the barn. It must have come off on the trail. Let's retrace our steps and look for it.”

“Honey, wait.”

Hannah turned her head to look at her mother.

“I cherish that bracelet, but I love my children more than anything in this world. If any of you are in trouble, I want to help.”

A smile trembled on Lily's lips, warming Hannah more surely than the hot afternoon sun. Hannah didn't want to mar her mother's happiness. And she wasn't sure she was right about Maria. Maybe Maria was fine. Maybe she'd made a pass at Parker because she had unresolved issues with her older sister. The thought felt like a knife in Hannah's chest. But she and Maria were both grown up now. It wasn't fair to burden their mother with their problems.

“I know you want to help, Mom. But I'm not sure you can. I'm not even sure you should try. This is between Maria and me.”

Hannah decided then and there that she would find a
way to get in touch with her only sister, even if she had to drive out to Leather Bucket and wait. Right now, she wanted to help her mother search for the bracelet that was an affirmation of Ryan's love. Hannah knew how it felt to be in love. If Parker ever presented her with such a gift, she would never want to lose it.

“Come on,” she told her mother, taking back her reins. “We haven't come that far. The bracelet has to be here somewhere.”

 

They returned to the ranch two hours later, tired and forlorn. Although they'd combed every inch of the trail, their search for the bracelet had been unsuccessful.

Lily had remained strong throughout the search, but a tear trailed down her face when she told Ryan.

“I'll buy you another bracelet, my dear,” he said, taking her face in both his hands. “One more beautiful than the first.”

Lily sniffled, and shook her head. “I don't need a bracelet as proof of your love, Ryan. As beautiful as the bracelet was, I would rather lose it than you.”

Pitching hay in a nearby stall, Clint Lockhart slid his hand into his pocket, his blunt, work-roughened fingertips catching on the delicate gold chain and rich gemstones. He turned his back on the stall door, lest anybody see his twisted smile.

 

Music blasted Parker as he passed the bedroom at the top of the stairs. It wouldn't have been so bad if Reed was inside. But no, the kid was dogging Parker's every step. Arguing. Badgering.

“You can't keep me here. I'm not your prisoner.”

The house still smelled of the pizza Reed had ordered for supper. As far as Parker could tell, his nephew lived
on fast food and chili. For a kid so wiry, he ate like a horse. And he argued better than any divorce attorney Parker had ever met. Whoever said what we need is not a clear plan but a clear intent, must have had a kid like Reed.

It was only Monday. It was going to be a long week. After the yelling match two nights ago, things had been relatively quiet. Reed hadn't exactly been communicative, but until now he hadn't refused to take no for an answer, either.

“I washed and waxed your car. And today I mowed the lawn. That's gotta be good for something.”

Yelling would have been easier to dismiss. This rationalizing required serious thinking and careful responses. Parker felt a headache coming on. Strange, he usually
caused
migraines.

“Reed, I appreciate the fact that you washed my car and mowed the lawn. I'm not your warden. I'm your uncle. And this isn't a prison. For the next few weeks, it's your home.”

“I haven't seen my friends in two days. There's nothing wrong with hanging out with the guys.”

“I didn't say you couldn't see your friends, Reed. I simply said you have to be home by eleven.”

“You're my uncle, not my legal guardian. You don't have any right to tell me what to do.”

The kid was smart. Too smart. He was also partially right. Parker didn't have a legal right, but he had a moral one. The boy's ego was smarting from his father's desertion. Just in case he considered his mother's quest for Parker's help as another low blow, Parker decided not to mention the fact that she'd given him the right to set limits for her son. How in the hell did he go about doing that without damaging the kid?

Parker needed help. Arguing wasn't working.

What was it Hannah had said the other day? Find something more constructive than arguing. What in the hell was more constructive than arguing? He'd boxed in college. Now that he thought about it, punching a wall would feel pretty good right now. Wait. Parker had a better idea.

“What do you say we take this into the kitchen?”

Reed eyed him suspiciously. “I'm not hungry.”

Parker was, but that was beside the point. “Good. Because there's no food left in the house. I think I know how to settle this.”

He had the boy's undivided attention.

“You want to stay out past eleven. I don't think it's necessary. Why not make it a contest? A match of wills, so to speak.”

“What kind of match?”

“You ever arm wrestle?”

Parker wasn't altogether certain he liked the smug look of satisfaction settling across Reed's face. The boy rubbed his upper arm, flexed his muscle. And led the way to the kitchen table.

They took a seat at ninety-degree angles. While Reed was busy positioning his elbow and shoulders, Parker said, “Before we begin, let's make our stakes perfectly clear.”

Reed nodded. “If I win, I get to stay out until two.” He must have read the look in Parker's eyes, because he amended his stand with, “Okay, until one.”

Parker didn't like that at all, but since he planned to win, he nodded. “And if I win, you will be home by eleven. Or before if you choose to be. Every night. From now on. With no argument.”

Reed's eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened.

Parker removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie.

Reed flipped his hat around so the bill was out of his
way. Elbows were planted, grips checked and locked. The contest began.

Parker was a little surprised to discover that Reed's hand was as large as his. But he wasn't surprised by Reed's daunting determination. The boy was stronger than he looked. Parker was strong, too. It was a good thing, because Reed meant business. He was a good thirty-five pounds lighter than his uncle, but it was obvious he intended to win every bit as much as Parker did.

The occasional bump of bass wafted through the house from the second floor. The only other sound was that of Parker's and Reed's carefully drawn breaths. Thirty seconds into the match, Reed's arm shook slightly. Out of the blue, he said, “What time's Hannah coming over?”

“Any minute now.”

“She's nice.”

“Yes, she is,” Parker agreed.

The boy's face was stern, his jaw set in consternation. “So are ya doing it with her?”

“I don't kiss and tell, Reed.”

“Me, neither.”

If Reed had intended his simple statement as a surprise tactic, it backfired. The insinuation brought on an adrenaline rush that resulted in a hard and fast victory for Parker.

Reed pulled a face only a boy of nearly fifteen could manage, but he didn't call for a rematch. He rose sullenly to his feet. Mumbling under his breath, he headed for the back door.

“Hey, Reed?”

The boy turned at the door.

“Are there going to be girls at Brad's house?”

“Yeah.”

“Somebody you like?”

“What if I do?”

Translated, Parker knew that meant yes. He tried to remember how it felt to be almost fifteen. He could feel himself going pale. Oh, boy, he was in big trouble.

“You know about germs and diseases and protect—”

Reed interrupted. “Don't worry, Uncle Parker. I've got it under control.”

A movement in the doorway drew both their attention. Hannah breezed in, and Reed made his escape.

She glanced from the expression on Parker's face to the place Reed had been. “What does he have under control?”

Parker rose to his feet, straightened his tie. He should have told the kid to be home by nine-thirty. “I think I'd better have a talk with Reed.”

“A talk?”

“
The
talk.”

“You don't think he knows?”

“He likes some girl. He's going to see her tonight.”

The dawning look of understanding was evident in her slow smile. “You're right. You'd probably better talk to him.”

He swore under his breath.

“There's no reason to look so bewildered. You pose arguments on your clients' behalf all the time. You're a very eloquent spokesman.”

“This is different.”

“In what way?”

“I'm still waiting for my father to tell me.”

“I don't think you need the talk, Parker.”

He caught a whiff of her perfume about the same time he heard the rustle of silk beneath her sundress. His gaze caught on the light in her eyes, the shadow on her lids, the blush on her cheeks, the pout on her lips. “You don't?”

She shook her head. “You seem to know what you're doing.”

Her tone was teasing, her style purely her own, so subtle a man who wasn't paying attention could miss it. Lucky for him, he was the observant type.

A rush of sexual desire flooded into him, causing his heart to change rhythm and his voice to turn husky and deep. “I guess you could say my training has been hands-on.”

Hannah kept her gaze trained on Parker's face. His hair was a deep, dark brown, his eyebrows a shade darker, still. His cheekbones were prominent, his jaw and chin roughly hewn, the shadow in the center endearingly quaint. His eyes were closed slightly, hooded with secrets she was fast learning to decipher.

He was thinking about the things he wanted to do to her, with her. He wanted her. It was that simple.

She didn't want this to be a simple case of a man wanting a woman. She was waiting for a sign that Parker felt more for her than an intense physical attraction that could one day wane into little more than a passing friendship.

There were times when she believed he was coming to love her. Times when she met his gaze across a room, or picked up the phone to the sound of his deep voice, or laughed with him across his kitchen table. She was waiting for a sign, if not words, then actions or deeds. Touching a fingertip to her mouth, she thought of all the times he'd kissed her. She had a feeling she would have her sign before the month was through.

The step he took in her direction was deliberate, the tone of his voice so low it was more like a sultry sweep across her toes. “About ‘the talk,' perhaps you would like to offer a few suggestions.” She lifted her hands in a gesture of innocence. He reached for one of them, giving a little tug. “Go ahead, Hannah. I'm all ears.”