Courting Trouble (29 page)

Fire crept up her body. Anger that was solid and hard clamped her chest and pulled at her to let loose all the words she wanted to unload upon Hudd. A righteousness that made her want to yell
I am a McGrath and I am just as good as you
. Instead, she kept hold of her tongue and looked at him with something she knew would make Hudd’s insides shred—she let her eyes roam over him with abject pity.

He saw it too. His own gaze shifted and the know-it-all, better-than-you smile he wore on one side of his face fell. His nostril flared and his body seemed to shrink away from her. Let him know how sorry she felt for him. She cocked an eyebrow so he realized they were clear and turned away from Hudd. She didn’t need to waste her words.

“You know, I tried to save your whore of a mother.”

The word was like a rock thrown at the back of her head. She stopped. She took a deep breath to ease the pressure that squeezed her heart. Tulsa turned toward Hudd. She eyed him—the mean smile had returned to half of his face.

“She was nearly dead when Wilkes and me came up on her in that ditch on Yampa Valley Road.” His voice was clear now and he seemed full of a nearly childlike excitement. “Probably been whoring most that night, and you know she was drinking. Never did meet a McGrath that didn’t like to drink.”

Tulsa pushed the air from her lungs. Nothing in her face twitched, not a muscle.

“Your mother had a nose for a bastard like a hound dog for a rabbit. If a man was bad news, she’d find him. Somebody did her harm that night, but it wasn’t me.”

His eyes were mean little beads set in his skull. He tried to pierce her with his words. But he couldn’t. She wouldn’t let him. It meant noth—

“And I told Cade exactly that.”

Hudd’s words smacked hard. A brick to the head. Her heart hammered a furious beat.
Told Cade?
She could barely breathe, but her eyes—in her eyes she couldn’t hide the surprise and anger and pain that whipped through her body like a whirlwind. Hudd’s sick smile grew.

“Cade didn’t tell you that part, now did he?”

“Tell Tulsa what?”

Tulsa turned softly, slowly, and faced the man that she knew she still loved. “What you knew about my mother. What Hudd told you about my mother.”

He crinkled his brow and glanced from Hudd laying in his bed to Tulsa. Still puzzled, Cade squinted and shook his head.

“I told you, son,” Hudd called from his bed. “That I found Connie on Yampa Valley Road.”

Cade opened his mouth as if to speak and not a word came out. His hand clutched at his hair and he looked from Hudd to Tulsa. “Yeah—you told me that, but Dad, but you were… you were…” Cade closed his eyes and shook his head. “Dad, that was just before your diagnosis and I’m certain you may be confusing rumors with reality.”

Cade took two steps closer to Tulsa and leaned in, his voice lower for only her to hear, his words rushed as if the speed of his delivery could somehow convince Tulsa of his truthfulness. “He was having a spell. It was the day he got out of the house and we found him and—”

“Did he say it?” Tulsa asked. Her heart beat so hard and so fast it might break free of her ribs. “Did he say he found my mother?”

She didn’t want to believe that Hudd had actually uttered those words and Cade had purposefully disregarded his father’s admission. Intentionally chosen to keep the secret. Willfully omitted the facts. No, Tulsa didn’t want to believe that Cade purposefully, intentionally, willfully lied.

“Yes.” A long breath came out of Cade’s mouth. “Yes, he did say that, but he was having an episode—he was confused. He wasn’t lucid and, Tulsa, there is no way—”

Tulsa held up her hand to halt Cade. There was a way—it was so obvious to everyone but Cade.

“He admitted to being on Yampa Valley Road. He admitted to finding my mother, and yet you refuse to believe what he just told you—what he just told me.”

Pain shattered through her—Cade had turned his back on the truth. He’d lied to her—he’d hidden what Hudd said.

Cade shook his head. A dismissive grimace covered his face. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

Tulsa clutched her arms tight over her chest. “I’m pretty sure Hudd knows exactly what he’s saying—it’s just you don’t want to hear the words your father has to say.”

*

On the ride back to the house, the silence lay solid and cold between them. Tulsa gripped her hands together in her lap. Her fingernails dug little white half-moons into her skin. Pain congealed like a slippery thing in her belly, amplified because this betrayal came on the heels of her and Cade’s night together.

Cade pulled onto the gravel drive and let the engine idle, a clear sign that he wasn’t coming into the house. Tulsa turned and gripped the door handle.

“You found Wilkes Stevenson.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement, heavy with everything her actions of searching for and finding Wilkes implied.

“I did,” Tulsa said. “Well…” She paused and ran her tongue over her lower lip. “I found Wilkes’s daughter. But so far no one has found Wilkes.”

“And you went to Kyle.”

Tulsa nodded. She wouldn’t apologize for her need for the truth. Her need to dig up every detail that would finally tell the story of the night her mother died.

Cade turned his head away from her and looked out the windshield toward the house. “I need to go to the ranch. Run some errands. Get some things for my dad.”

His voice was toneless. Deadened as though weary of this never-ending disagreement between them. This battle, whether they spoke of it or ignored it, was still wedged between them.

Cade wouldn’t meet her eyes and Tulsa knew. She knew there would be no happily ever after—they couldn’t withstand the weight of the lies. Hudd’s lies, Cade’s lies, even Tulsa’s. Had she ever really believed there would be a happy ending to their story? Tulsa fought the hot pinpricks of tears in her eyes and pushed open the truck door. She was a McGrath and he was a Montgomery, and while they’d solved the custody battle with the wise decisions made by the parents, there was still Connie’s death.

With no words on her lips, Tulsa slipped from Cade’s truck, shut the door, and watched him drive away.

*

The smell of coffee drew Tulsa to the kitchen. Her limbs felt heavy and a fuzziness seeped into her brain. She needed a friend. She needed Savannah to listen and understand the pain that collided against her. Savannah sat, her body hunched forward, at the kitchen table. Her hands gripped her coffee cup and the corners of her mouth turned down. With Savannah’s somber look the first thing that popped into Tulsa’s mind was the fear that something had happened to Ash. “Is Ash okay?”

Savannah’s head tilted up. “Still asleep,” Savannah said and sipped her coffee. Savannah’s gaze glanced over Tulsa like a flat stone over a clear mountain lake—a signal that something Tulsa had or hadn’t done was the source of Savannah’s irritation.

Tulsa pulled a mug from the cupboard and poured a cup of coffee. She was tired of battles. Her hope that Savannah would listen wisped away. Tulsa closed her eyes and let a silent sigh escape over her lips. She felt tired. So tired of fighting. So tired of searching. So tired of holding so tightly to her actions and words.

“Is everything okay?” Tulsa asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not exactly.”

Savannah’s tone held an edge and Tulsa shivered. There would be no sisterly support with regards to Cade or Hudd’s admission—not until she settled whatever hitch had Savannah irritated.

“You want to talk about it?” Tulsa surrendered her body, heavy with fatigue, to a chair opposite Savannah.

“Oh.” Savannah raised an eyebrow and cocked her chin. “We’re going to talk about it.” She pulled her body upward, vertebra by vertebra, her not-so-hidden irritation pumping her upright. She gripped her coffee cup as though it might fly from her hands. “When exactly were you going to tell me?”

“Aboooout?” Tulsa drew out the word, hoping for a hint from her sister. Savannah couldn’t be angry about last night because Savannah saw Cade and Tulsa leave—had even waved good-bye. Ash’s custody case was finished, thankfully, and although Bobby Hopkins was now in Ash and Savannah’s life for what appeared like forever, Savannah still retained sole custody of Ash and was the primary parent.

“I saw Kyle Edwards at the carnival last night.”

Tulsa stared into her coffee cup—she knew what was next. She closed her eyes.

“Do you know what Kyle told me?” Savannah pressed her fingers to her forehead and her body leaned forward. Her whole face squished, disbelief distorted her features.

Tulsa raised both eyebrows and met Savannah’s gaze.

“Kyle told me that you want him to reopen Mom’s case.”

“This is a good thing—” Tulsa started.

“For who?” The thin control Savannah maintained vanished and her voice rose in decibels. “Now that the custody case is done you get to go back to Los Angeles, but guess who stays?” Savannah’s left hand reached outward across the table toward Tulsa. “We do. Ash and me. We get to be here when they question Wilkes, when they question Hudd, when the paper runs a front-page article about Connie and her death and her past. Do you think I want to live through all that again? You think I want Ash to live through it?”

Savannah gazed out the window toward the mountains in the distance—her head softly shaking no. She turned back to Tulsa and her tone was calmer, quieter, but still held the sharp edge of anger. “Ash doesn’t need more drama. She just got finished dealing with a crazy mother who picked up an illegal firearm charge and meeting her absentee father.”

“It won’t even go that far. Hudd already admitted what happened and—”

Savannah crossed her arms tight over her chest and pressed her eyes closed. “I don’t want to hear it.” Her eyelids popped open and her sharp gaze pierced Tulsa. “You left the last time before the investigation got nasty.” Savannah thrust a finger into her own chest. “But I was here. Dammit, I was here!” She slapped her hand on the table.

“I thought you’d want the truth,” Tulsa said.

“For who?” Savannah asked, her brows tightening. “For you? Because you’re so hell-bent on proving Cade Montgomery wrong and now you’ve got your chance?”

“This has nothing to do with Cade.”

“This has
everything
to do with Cade and if you don’t realize that, you’re blinder than bats in a barn. Even if Hudd did hit Mom that night on Yampa Valley Road, there won’t be a trial— Hudd has lost his brains. So what exactly will Wilkes prove? Huh? What will reopening Mama’s case do, other than stir up the muck that I sure as hell don’t want to have to swim through again? The only thing Wilkes Stevenson can tell you, if he can tell you anything, is which one of your stories is right.”

“Excuse me?” Tulsa said. “Which one of what—”

“Yours or Cade’s. You both got a story when it comes to how Mama died. Seems Wilkes might be able to point to the correct one.”

“That’s not fair,” Tulsa said.

“It sure as hell isn’t fair,” Savannah said. “Not for me and not for Ash. But you know what, sister, the one thing I do know is if you get your ‘truth’ and your story that Hudd was involved holds, then you don’t have to kick yourself for the rest of your life about leaving the man you love. You’ll be justified. Innocent, with a reasonable excuse for fleeing. But what if you’re wrong? Huh? What if Hudd didn’t hit Mom on the side of Yampa Valley Road that night? You’ve used that story to justify your entire life. For leaving Cade, for leaving us, for never coming home. But what if it didn’t happen exactly like that? Then what? You don’t need the truth for me, or for Mama, or even for Ash or Grandma Margaret. It’s
you
who needs the truth so bad.” Savannah pointed directly at Tulsa. “Because how could you ever live with yourself and your choices, otherwise?”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“So the custody case is closed?” Emma asked, a hopeful lilt in her voice.

Tulsa nodded. “It is.” She lifted her coffee cup and took a sip. She needed the caffeine; she hadn’t slept well for three nights.

“And everyone is happy?” Jo asked.

“It’s an amicable peace,” Tulsa said. “Everyone wins a little and everyone gives a little.”

“And Ash?” Emma asked.

Tulsa looked past her computer, toward the far side of the kitchen where her niece, with bed head and sleepy eyes, snagged a cup of juice from the refrigerator. “Is really happy with her parents’ decision,” Tulsa said. Ash lifted her hand in an early morning wave and headed back toward the stairs.

“Are you coming back today?” Jo asked. Emma jabbed Jo in the ribs with her elbow.

“What she means to say is when are you coming back to the office?” Emma asked sweetly.

“I’ve got a flight to LA tomorrow,” Tulsa said.

“Thank God,” Jo said, and her eyes searched the ceiling. “Mimi Holmby is a complete pain in my ass. I swear the woman calls me six times a day.”

Emma nodded at the screen. She fought an impish grin. Somehow all of them seemed to get a naughty kick out of seeing the all-business Jo suffer with their celebrity clientele.

“Tell her she can start calling me,” Tulsa said.

“And what about…” Emma looked up from her teacup through her lashes. “Cade?”

Now it was Jo’s turn to jab Emma. “Really, Em? This is a staff meeting, not girls’ night out.”

“We need to have one of those as soon as you’re back,” Emma said.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Tulsa said and sipped her coffee. She hoped they wouldn’t see through the lie.

Emma cocked an eyebrow and leaned toward the computer screen. “I think
nothing
is a stretch.”

Ah, Emma. Forever a romantic.

“Well, whatever
it
was is done. There isn’t much that Cade wants to discuss with me anymore.”

“Did the DA find Wilkes?” Jo asked.

Tulsa shook her head no. “I haven’t heard anything. I’ll check in with Kyle before I leave tomorrow. See where they are and if they think they can find him.”

“And you’re just going to let it go?” Jo asked.

Was she going to let it go? She couldn’t, could she? Savannah wasn’t completely right—Tulsa needed the truth about their mother’s death for more reasons than just to prove Cade wrong. Tulsa needed the truth because Connie deserved it. Her mother had been flawed in many ways, but she was still her mother and Connie deserved for them to search out the truth of her death, if only for the memory of her.