The Cattleman (Sons of Texas Book 2) (12 page)

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“No, of course not. I’m just saying…”

Shannon reached for Christa’s glass. “Let me get you another glass of wine. Don’t worry about getting home. We’ll manage it.” She carried the glass to the kitchen, picked up her cell phone from the counter and pressed in a number. “Steve, I have a friend visiting and she’s having wine. I might want to drive her home later. Or is it possible that you or Mike can take her home? She lives in town.”

“We’ll take care of it, Mrs. Lockhart. Just let me know.”

“Fine. Thank you.” Shannon disconnected, refilled Christa’s glass and returned to her side. “All taken care of. Now you can have another glass of wine without worrying about it.”

“What are y’all gonna do to the backyard?” Christa asked
, taking the filled glass from Shannon.

The spacious backyard made up of rocks, sand and construction debris, stretched from the a wide covered patio to the edge of a steep bluff, then down to the lak
eshore and a covered boat dock.

“
Drake wants to turn the patio into an outdoor kitchen like they have at his family’s ranch,” Shannon answered. “Besides that, we’ll put in a lawn. Plant some trees. I miss having trees. We had those huge trees around Grammy Evelyn’s house, you know. But it’ll be a few more weeks or even months before we worry about it.”

“Grammy Evelyn’s old house is looking great.
I love the new paint job. You’ll soon have it open for tours, huh?”

Grammy Evelyn’s house, built in the late nineteenth century, already had a “Texas Historical Home” plaque beside the front door. Drake had charmed her into moving into the new home with him and Shannon and persuaded her to make a museum out of her house. Even Collee
n and Gavin had liked the idea. Eventually, it would be donated to the Camden Historical Society. Now Grammy’s days were filled with searching for authentic Victorian furniture and accessories to decorate it.

“Grammy has to get a few more pieces of furniture. I never would’ve thought she’d be so excited about the project. I couldn’t see her willing to leave the place, but Drake convinced her what a good idea turning it into a museum is. We’re calling it The Lloyd Piper House, which makes her happy. She’s still in love with my grandpa to this day.”

Just then, Shannon’s phone chimed from where she had laid it on the kitchen island. She walked back and picked up to Drake’s voice. “Hey, sweetheart, whatcha doing?”

“Visiting with Christa.
Wish you were here to eat supper with us. We’re about to sit down to ham and beans. They smell delicious. You’ll be here around ten?”

“About that.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I’ll pick up a sandwich from the deli downstairs.”

“If Christa decides to go home before you get here, I’m going to drive her so she doesn’t risk a DWI.”

“Be sure Steve accompanies you. Actually, he could drive her home. I’ll call him and ask him.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll take care of it.” Shannon winked at Christa as she disconnected. “Bossy.”

Christa grinned.

“Now you can eat supper with us,” Shannon said. “Beans and ham in the Crockpot. What’s more provincial than that?”

Later, Shannon drove Christa
’s car and Christa back to town, followed by Steve Logan. As he and Shannon returned to her home, she rode in the front seat of his SUV. “Do you have a family, Steve?” she asked him.

“No, ma’am. My work has made settling down hard.”

“You were in the military?”

“Yes, ma’am. Navy for ten years.”

“Ten years? I guessed you to be under thirty. You must have gone in really young.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re certainly a man of few words.”

It was dark and she could see only his profile, but she was sure a smile quirked a corner of his mouth. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“Do you know why we need security guards?”

Though they’d had the security people around for two months, Shannon still hadn’t been able to figure out the threat she and Drake faced and Drake hadn’t told her much.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Would you want to share that information with me?”

“Mr. Lockhart is a valuable target. Not knowing the perp’s motive, the Rangers fear somebody might want to hurt him. If not him directly, they might try hurting people he cares about.”

A tiny panic pinched Shannon’s stomach. “What? Are you saying that guy that hit us up in Fort Worth was trying to harm me in particular?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s the theory. You and your baby. He did hit you on the passenger side. If you had been riding in a car instead of Mr. Lockhart’s truck, the impact would have been more destructive and you probably would’ve been hurt more seriously.”

Stunning information.
Shannon’s hand flew to her stomach. Seconds passed before she found words. “Why, that’s the most evil thing I’ve ever heard of. Do…do you think this criminal wants one of us dead?”

“We don’t know. Apparently he’s been harassing the Lockhart family for
a long while, but since he’s mostly harmed or killed animals, they’ve chalked the damaging incidents up to accidents and occurrences to be expected in their business. The Rangers say the guy’s upping his game for some reason they haven’t figured out. But you don’t have to worry. Everything’s under control. My company has never lost a subject.” He turned toward her and grinned.

Up to this moment, Shannon
’s attitude about Drake hiring private security had been casual. She had believed he had done it on a whim to satisfy Blake Rafferty. But he obviously knew things he wasn’t telling her.

Her jaw clamped tight and she said nothing else, but her thoughts roiled. Another layer of worry and responsibility that came with being married to Drake Lockhart and being pregnant with his child.

No wonder those Texas Rangers had wanted Drake to keep his Fort Worth condo and move his new family into it, an address with multiple coded locks, protection twenty-four-seven by a doorman, private security, and ultimately the Fort Worth PD.

The
beautiful home where she now lived was twelve miles from town in a remote location. If an emergency arose, no cop or fireman could get to it for at least fifteen or twenty minutes and the sheriff had said his department didn’t have the manpower to provide a twenty-four-hour guard. No wonder Drake had agreed to hire private security.

Well, Drake had to be more forthcoming with information.
Shannon appreciated that he only wanted to protect her from everyone and everything, including stress, but if her and her baby’s lives were in danger, she had a right to know what was going on. So far, he had controlled most of their life together and she had been content to let him. Not having to bear responsibility for every single thing had been a novelty and a relief, but she still considered their marriage an equal partnership. She had no intention of being a mushroom.

Chapter 8

Betty Lockhart said good-night to Barron Wilkes at her front door. He had pestered her about sleeping over, but she never invited him to spend the night. First, she didn’t want her stuffy neighbors to see his car in her driveway in the early morning hours, ever.

Her affair with the sixty-seven-year old real estate magnate had been ongoing ever since she moved away from the Double-Barrel Ranch nearly eight years ago. Not even in the beginning of their relationship, when he was seven years younger than now, had he proved to be a sex god in the bedroom. The man had four children.
With his clumsiness at sex, how had his deceased wife managed to conceive that many times? Tonight, she was in no mood for him.

And thinking of Barron’s poor performance always reminded her of her husband, Bill Junior, who had never been a poor performer in bed, not even when they were teenagers. Only after she was no longer able to have him when she wanted him had she realized that there were men who were good at sex and men who weren’t.

Bill Junior hadn’t been to visit her in weeks.
But that doesn’t mean he’s gone without sex,
she thought sourly.

As she closed the door and locked it, her phone rang. She walked into the kitchen and checked caller ID. Her husband.
Speak of the devil.
Feeling a wave of affection for the only man with whom she had ever had sex until Barron Wilkes, she picked up the receiver.

“Betty,” he barked without even saying hello. “What the hell are you doing sending some woman out here to take pictures and siccing her on Pic? You know I don’t like shit like that. And July Fourth is coming up. You know we don’t invite outsiders to our employee picnic. It’s for the
hands and their families. We want them to feel comfortable and know that it’s their day.”

Betty bristled. How dare he call and speak to her in this tone. “Zochi McLaren’s parents are friends of mine,” she snapped. “I hope you didn’t run her off.”

“I couldn’t have run her off if I’d wanted to. She had a flat tire. And I had to get somebody to fix it. We fed her supper and Johnnie Sue put her up in the guesthouse. That’s about as hospitable as we get around here. But I’ll tell you right now, I oughtta send her packing. She doesn’t look like a photographer to me. I know you, Betty. The real reason you sent her out here is to cause trouble between Pic and Mandy.”

Betty cringed
. Was she that transparent? “Don’t be ridiculous. How would I know if Pic is even at home?”

“My God, Betty. After you got your tit in a wringer with Drake and his wife and after you upset the whole Drinkwell school system, I’d think you learned a lesson about meddling. To this day, every time I go to town, somebody says something to me about what you did.”

All she had done was have a conversation with the school superintendent and show him a report on Amanda Breckenridge’s past. Betty hadn’t lived in Drinkwell in seven years. How could she have known the whole school system adored Amanda? Betty’s brow pinched into a frown.

She had apologized to Pic and Amanda both and she now had a cordial relationship
, at least with Pic, but Drake was a different kind of person from Pic. Her oldest son was so stubborn he might never make up with her. Being reminded how she had alienated him so thoroughly broke her heart anew and tears threatened. “Just stop it, Bill Junior. Is this why you called? To attack me?”

“I’m just warning you, wife—”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your wife any longer.”

“Then what the hell are you? We’re not divorced. I’m still paying your bills. Jesus Christ, I just bought you a new car. Now I’m having second thoughts. I’m wondering if two nights in a crazy woman’s bed is worth a new Cadillac.”

Betty gasped. Although nothing he said to her surprised her. “You are such an ass.”

A wicked heh-heh-heh came back at her.

Dear God.
The man loved nothing better than needling her. “Do not distract me, Bill Junior. Amanda Breckenridge is not good enough for Pic. You know it as well as I do. I don’t understand why the school system thinks she’s so wonderful.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Betty? What’s wrong with her? She’s an outstanding coach. She tries to teach those knot-headed kids good English. Her daddy and mama were good people. We went to school with them. We knew ’em our whole lives.”

“She’s been married and divorced, Bill Junior. And she was married to a criminal.”

Betty had researched. Sam Larson, Amanda’s former husband—of course she’d had her name changed back to her maiden name—had operated a theft ring in Lubbock. It had taken the
police several years to catch up with him and his little gang, but they had and Sam had been sentenced to prison. He probably was still there.

“And he went to jail,” Bill Junior said. “And Mandy divorced him.”

“No one will ever make me believe she wasn’t a part of it. Or that she didn’t know what was going on.”

The Lubbock police had investigated Amanda all right, but all along, she claimed she had no idea what her husband was doing. She must have been convincing because the security company Betty had hired had found no evidence that she was ever charged.

“Pic’s been married, too, Betty. Your thinking is screwed up where our boys are concerned. Just leave them alone. Let nature take its course.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Bill Junior. But it doesn’t hurt to nudge it a little. Zochimilka McLaren is an extremely attractive young woman and she’s bright and well-educated.”

“I’m telling you, you’d better back off. All you’re gonna do is cause more hard feelings.”

No way did she intend to be chided or have her motives questioned by someone who had no moral ground to criticize her or anyone. During the twenty-eight years she had lived at the Double-Barrel as
Bill Junior’s wife, he had partied hard and cheated with more women than she could count on her fingers. “Shut up. Just remember this. If you’re rude to someone whose parents are friends of mine, you’ll never pass through my bedroom doorway again.”

She slammed the receiver into its cradle with a loud
clack
!