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Nothing But Cowboy Page 16
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The bright glow faded a little. “He’ll never say so. He’s tough, because he’s had to be. But he missed out on so much, because he did what had to be done. I don’t know what would have happened to this family if he hadn’t.”
“He says you are the one who held things together.” As she said it, Sydney couldn’t help wondering what her life might have been like, had she had even one parent like Maggie Rafferty.
“But because he was the oldest I leaned on him, far too much. Made him grow up before his time.”
She sounded sad, and Sydney felt a pang. And felt the urge to change the subject. “Keller says if I want Texas history, you’re the go-to.”
As if she understood perfectly, Keller’s mother lifted one delicate brow at her. “Do you? Want Texas history?”
“I’m trying to learn, yes.” She abandoned the flattery tactic. “I mean, it’s hard to miss that everything is…bigger here.”
“That’s because we’re bigger. You can start here in Last Stand and drive ten hours, over five hundred miles, and still be in Texas.”
She remembered something she’d seen online, a picture of a billboard that looked more brag than anything. “Is it true El Paso is closer to California than it is to Dallas?”
“It is.”
“And I read that the monument at San Jacinto is taller than the Washington Monument.”
“It is,” she said again. “It’s an important piece of that history.” Something flared in those blue eyes. “But not the most important.”
“What is?” Sydney asked, although she thought she already knew.
“We may have won our independence from Mexico at San Jacinto, but it was paid for in blood—”
“—at the Alamo,” Sydney finished softly.
There was a moment’s pause before the other woman nodded. And Sydney didn’t think she’d mistaken the approval in both the gesture and the look in her eyes.
Keller came back to the table, but he didn’t sit. Instead he just looked down at his mother, waiting. Silently.
“We’ll need to take your SUV to fit everyone,” she said briskly to him. Then she looked back at Sydney. “Be here at ten.”
*
“You’re really all going?”
Lucas was looking at the family gathered at the kitchen table, his expression a little stunned.
“We are,” Maggie confirmed, pulling off her apron.
Keller had noticed when he’d first come into the kitchen that beneath the protective apron his mother wore a tailored black blouse and long skirt, and well-polished black boots. On her orders, they’d all dressed for the remembrance. Since the morning had dawned gray and overcast, with the threat of a spring rain, it seemed appropriate.
“Of course we are, buddy,” Cody said.
Lucas gave Chance a sideways glance, eyeing his black shirt. “Even you?”
Keller waited as no one answered for the most reticent Rafferty. They’d quit doing that a while ago, hoping that the manners ingrained in him since childhood would win out if he was forced to talk or be rude.
“Even me,” Chance said wryly. Then, to his—and Keller suspected everyone’s—surprise, he added, “They were good people. They deserve all the respect we can muster.”
The boy lowered his eyes to his plate, but he was blinking rapidly. And Keller saw his mother giving Chance a warmly approving look. Which made his brother mimic Lucas’s action of staring at his plate, although minus the fighting tears. Keller wondered if his weary brother even had the capacity for tears anymore. He suspected that well had long ago run dry. Not that he would let it show anyway. None of them would. Not Rafferty men. Except when they made a trip similar to this one, to honor the prototype, the man who had fathered them.
“You’d better finish those pancakes,” Keller said rather gruffly. “You’ll need the fuel today.”
The boy picked up his fork and dug in obediently. But then, they were the Rafferty specials, made with his mother’s particular flair. Keller looked across the table at her. She nodded. He glanced at Ry, who shrugged. He cleared his throat.
“Uh…somebody else is coming, too.”
Lucas looked up at him. “Who?”
“You know Ry’s toolbox?”
The boy’s brow furrowed. “With the bird?”
He nodded. “The lady Mom bought it from is in town. She’s never been to Texas before.”
“Oh.”
Keller was about to continue, even as he dreaded going on because all the rest would be a sort of lie, even if of omission. But a little to his surprise, Lucas merely shrugged much as Ry had, and went back to his pancakes. Keller shot a glance at his mother, who gave him a raised brow and a nod. Ry, who would have been the biggest party to the story they’d concocted, seemed relieved, and shot his brother a “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth” kind of expression.
When they were done with breakfast, Keller went to check his string tie in the mirror by the door, while his mother went with Lucas to help him with his. Not something he could do for the kid. He’d never had the knack she had, or Ry, who seemed to see tying one as an artistic challenge, or Cody, whom he guessed had it diagrammed in his head complete with labeled loops and strands.
He did his best and was turning away from the mirror when he heard the car. Instinctively he glanced at his watch. Ten to ten.
“That your girl?” Cody asked, his tone a hair too innocent.
“Just because you pissed her off at first sight, don’t take it out on me,” Keller retorted.
He started to head for the door, but not before he saw Ry and Chance exchange a look, one punctuated by raised brows from Chance and a grin from Ry. And remembered that Chance hadn’t met Sydney yet, or even seen her. That ought to be interesting. He reached for the door and pulled it open before she knocked, already anticipating his brother’s reaction to—
He forgot to think. He damned near forgot to breathe. Wasn’t sure he remembered how.
It was her, he knew it was. He’d never forget those eyes, that face, that body, but…
“You cut your hair,” he said lamely, because it was the only thing he could think of to say that didn’t involve the way that silky, dark gray dress slid over her curves, the way it bared her legs from the knees down to the shiny short boots, and the way those legs looked in the dark stockings she wore.
But she had cut it; the dark color was gone, leaving nothing but a sleek neck-length cap of pale blond that seemed to want to flip up slightly at the ends. It moved with her in a slippery sort of way that had him imagining what it would feel like to have it slip over his skin.
“Actually, Bella McBride did,” she said with a smile.
“Oh.”
“Your mother was right,” she added when he couldn’t think of another word. “She did a great job.” She flicked a hand at the ends of her hair, obviously pleased.
“She’s…good. And nice.”
“Yes. She was such a sweetheart, and made room for me first thing this morning.” She tilted her head as she looked up at him. “I thought it would be one less thing to have to explain.” Then, more anxiously, she asked, “Does he know? That I’m coming with you, I mean?”
“I…yes.” He gave himself a mental shake. “It went better than I thought it would. We only told him you’re the one Mom bought Ry’s toolbox from, and that you’d never been to Texas before. That seemed to be enough for him.”
“So no lies,” she said quietly, sounding as relieved as he and Ry had felt.
“You gonna make her stand out there until we leave?” Ry’s voice came from behind him. Belatedly he stepped aside and gestured her inside. Then his brother stepped around him and gave Sydney a nod. “He did take it well. Of course he doesn’t know the whole yet.”
Sydney drew in a visible breath. “I won’t say anything until you say it’s okay.”
Chance came over, clearly curious enough to bestir himself. Keller introduced them. His brother studied her for a moment, glanced at
Keller with understanding in his gaze. As if one look at her had explained…something.
“Keller told me what you do with the dogs,” Sydney said. “I think that’s wonderful.”
Chance shifted his gaze back to her. “They’ve earned all I can do and more. If not for one of them I wouldn’t be here.”
He said it rather gruffly. Keller was surprised he’d said it at all. While the fact that an MWD had saved his life overseas was in the info on the website Cody ran for the operation, it was something Chance himself rarely talked about at all.
“What’s the name of your organization?”
“They Also Serve. Mom picked it.” Chance grimaced. “But there’s no organization. Just me.”
She considered that. “Makes sense. A single pack leader.”
Chance’s expression changed, and Keller knew he hadn’t expected that. Won’t be the first time she surprises you. She sure as hell has surprised me.
“Are you open to outside donations?” she asked.
Keller went very still. Chance’s gaze narrowed. “Donations for the work, yes. Bribes, no.”
“Trying to buy your way into our good graces?” Cody’s too silky tone from behind Chance was one Keller was wary of; his little brother might be a bit geeky on the surface, but he’d learned early on that that clever brain could devise paybacks that were almost frightening in their execution and in most cases, appropriateness.
Sydney looked utterly disconcerted, and Keller was certain the idea that her offer might be interpreted that way had never occurred to her. “I didn’t mean…my company has a charitable wing, and this is exactly the kind of thing we look for to sponsor.”
“Right,” Cody said, and went past them and out the door without another word.
“What’s with him?” Ry asked, frowning.
“I don’t know,” Sydney said. “He disliked me on sight, almost before I said a word. And I have no idea why.”
“Almost? What did you say?” Chance asked.
“I just asked if he—” she nodded at Keller “—was here. And he went feral on me.”
Keller frowned, as much at the looks his two brothers exchanged as at her answer. But before he could dwell on it, he heard the sound of footsteps coming from the back of the house. And his mother’s voice.
“—can’t make it easy. The right thing to do often isn’t.”
Sydney went very still. Her head turned in the direction of the footsteps. He kept his gaze on her face, wanting to see her expression the first time she laid eyes on her cousin.
And he didn’t even blink this time when he thought it, because deep in his gut, he knew it was the truth.
Chapter Twenty-Four
She’d been right to be afraid, Sydney thought. Because her brain seemed to freeze up and her knack with words vanished the moment she looked into Lucas Brock’s eyes. Eyes whose shape and color—that deep, dark brown—were all too familiar.
Her father’s eyes.
Even his hair was similar, kicking forward from a cowlick in the back. And his build; slight, wiry. She thought that even had she just run into this boy on the street, without knowing, she would have seen a resemblance. And she wondered just how alike her father and his brother had been, if they had looked alike while being so different on the inside. If the boy had photos of his father, and surely he did, she could ask to see—
“Lucas, this is Sydney,” Keller’s mother said, ending the near-panicked skittering of Sydney’s thoughts.
“Hi,” the boy muttered, barely glancing at her.
“Hi,” she returned, barely managing even the short word past the lump in her throat. The boy moved past her, clearly having put her in the category of adult he didn’t have to interact with.
They went outside to where the large SUV she’d seen before was parked. “Sydney, you sit up front,” Mrs. Rafferty said briskly, startling her. But then she realized the front had two separate seats. So no one would have to sit next to the interloper?
“Dibs on the wayback,” Cody said pointedly, and yanked open the back door and slid the second seat forward so he could get to the smaller, third row of seats. Before she could react to his obvious desire to be as far away from her as possible, Keller had opened the passenger front door. He stood waiting as his two other brothers, much more good-naturedly, squabbled. Sydney climbed in as she listened.
“I claim height advantage,” Ry said. “You get to sit with the dronemaster.”
“For an inch? Fu—get about it,” Chance said, with a glance at their mother as he changed the expletive midword.
“Good call,” Mrs. Rafferty said with a stern look Sydney had the feeling was just that, a look, and that underneath she was amused. She was sure of it when the woman said easily, “The rest of us can all fit in the second seat. That way Cody can sulk all by himself back there.”
Startled at the words, Sydney snapped her gaze to Mrs. Rafferty’s face. And realized she’d just gotten a taste of what it would be like to have this woman on her side. She still didn’t know why Cody had taken such an instant disliking to her, but she couldn’t imagine anyone, let alone one of her sons, holding out for long against this woman if she decided to accept Sydney’s presence in Lucas’s life on a permanent basis.
Settled in the passenger seat she fastened the seat belt. And belatedly realized this meant that Keller was driving. Which she should have figured. Now she was thankful for those bucket seats; there would at least be a foot or so between them.
She waited until they were out the ranch gate and onto the road before she twisted in her seat to look back at Lucas, seated between Keller’s mother on the end behind the driver’s seat, and the two other Rafferty brothers. The boy seemed to sense her gaze and looked up.
“Thank you for letting me join you today,” she said softly.
“Can’t make it any worse,” the boy muttered.
“No, I can’t. Nothing could.”
That earned her a sideways look and a blunt, “They get it. Do you?”
Start as you mean to go on. Honestly. “Not really. My parents…aren’t like yours were. I was more of a nuisance to them than anything.”
He didn’t question her knowledge of what his parents had been like. And he seemed surprised. At the honesty? He focused on her, with those eyes. “Sucks,” he said flatly.
“I’d say that definitely applies,” she agreed.
“My parents were pretty strict, though,” Lucas said, surprising her. Be glad he’s at least talking to you.
She considered that for a moment before saying, “Well, that gives rise to an interesting question. Is it worse to live with strict parents, or parents that don’t give a…horse’s patoot what you do?”
She saw with her peripheral vision that Keller glanced at her at the change in phrase. Or the question itself. But she didn’t look at him, never moved her gaze from her cousin’s young face. And he looked as if he were seriously pondering the subject. “I don’t know,” he finally said.
“I think somewhere in between would be the sweet spot,” Sydney said.
Lucas grimaced. “Does that even exist?”
Sydney glanced at Maggie Rafferty. Then looked back at Lucas. “Yeah, I think it does,” she said.
The boy hadn’t missed her glance, and followed it with one of his own. “Maybe,” he agreed, hesitantly.
The older woman beside him in the back seat moved then, slipping an arm around the boy in a rather fierce hug. But she was looking at Sydney, and her expression made Sydney feel a warmth unlike anything she’d ever felt before. It was crazy how the slightest sign of approval from this family made her feel as if she’d truly accomplished something.
And the figurative slap in the face from the youngest brother?
She gave an inward shrug; she’d meant it when she said she had no idea why Cody Rafferty had taken such an instant dislike to her. Distrust she could understand, but this was something more.
She refused to dwell on it, not now, when she w
as finally here with Lucas. But her instincts, such as they were when they came to situations she’d never expected to find herself in, told her not to push, and she turned back to face front as the boy relaxed into the hug from Keller’s mother.
Silence fell in the vehicle, lasting long enough to feel slightly uncomfortable. Then she heard Rylan Rafferty ask his brother, “How’s your problem pup coming along?”
It was a moment before she heard movement from the seat right behind her, as if the reticent-seeming Chance had had to snap back to the present. Or reality. She didn’t know much about him, other than he’d been in the military, and was utterly dedicated to his work with the more difficult K-9 cases. That alone would have made her favorably disposed toward him, and she supposed she couldn’t blame him for thinking her question about donations might have been out of self-interest.
“He’s making progress,” Chance said, his voice sounding a bit rough, not with emotion but as if it didn’t get much use. She wondered if he ever talked to anybody outside his dogs and his family. “But it’s slow.”
“Think he’d tolerate me for a while yet?”
“Soon,” Chance said. “You still want to do that sketching?”
“Yes. There’s something special about that dog.”
“They’re all special,” Chance said, and this time the emotion was there. So however closed off the man might be, he wasn’t to those dogs. And Sydney vowed to make a call tonight to Harumi, who ran the charitable operation of The World in a Gift, telling her to begin the process. No matter what might—or might not—happen with her and Lucas didn’t change the value of what he was doing.
Silence reigned again. A glance told her the grouchy Cody was engrossed in something on his phone, Chance was back to staring out the window at the passing landscape, while Rylan was doing something with a pencil and a sketch pad. As she looked, Lucas straightened up, away from Mrs. Rafferty. Not as if recoiling, more like he’d just remembered he was thirteen and too old to tolerate coddling for long. She didn’t protest, only smiled at him, and Sydney guessed she was all too familiar with this stage of a child’s—especially a boy’s—development.