Crazy For You (4 page)

“Day before yesterday.” Clint wondered if he’d get another dressing down for not contacting Walt right away.

But Walt just nodded as he released Clint’s shoulder. “How’d it go with that brother of yours?”

“Guess we’ll see.” Clint grimaced. “He’s on his way here.”

“I take it you didn’t call Cody as soon as you rolled into town.” Walt shook his head. “You’re just askin’ for trouble.”

“How’ve things been going with you?” Clint was ready to get the focus off himself.

Walt shrugged. “Not a lot has changed since you disappeared on us.” He nodded to Moose who was polishing a glass with a dishtowel. “The usual, Moose.”

“You’ve got it, Hoss.” The big man nodded, set down the glass, and reached for a bottle.

Walt turned back to Clint. “Oh, the town’s changed quite a bit. New businesses, more folks moving here from every damned part of the country. But life has pretty much stayed the same for an old geezer like me. I keep to myself except to work with the rodeo kids.”

Moose set a lowball glass in front of Walt and poured two fingers of whiskey. Walt picked up the glass and saluted Moose with it before doing the same to Clint. Walt tossed back the contents of the glass, thumped it on the bar top, and waited for Moose to give him another hit.

Clint nodded to Moose to hit him with the whiskey, too. When Moose walked away, Walt met Clint’s gaze. “I’d like to see you come back and take on rodeo again.”

“I’m not planning on staying in town for long.” Clint shook his head. “Life might not have changed for this place, but it’s changed for me.”

“Makes no matter.” Walt continued to study Clint. “Folks of all kinds come through here. A lot stay—some are folks who didn’t think they could handle the slower pace. Now you…your roots are here. This land is in your blood.”

Clint picked up his glass and took a swallow before setting it back on the bar top, but said nothing.

“I’d like to work with you on making a comeback,” Walt said. “I know what happened to Bucky took a lot out of you, but you’ve got to let it go. You belong on the circuit.”

Clint wanted to get up and walk away. He didn’t want to listen to Walt’s talk about Bucky, or Clint making a comeback. He didn’t want to talk about rodeo at all. Hell, he didn’t even belong here anymore.

Walt eyed Clint. “You just think on it.”

Clint nodded despite the fact he didn’t plan on thinking about a possibility at all. There was no chance he’d go back to rodeo.

“I want you to come to the county 4-H rodeo at the Prescott rodeo grounds this Saturday,” Walt said. “Some of my kids are competing.” Before Clint could respond, Walt said, “Looks like you’re about to find out what kind of welcome you’re going to get.” Walt nodded toward the entrance.

Clint took one more swallow of his whiskey and turned in the direction Walt was looking and saw his brother’s angry features. Cody headed straight for Clint.

Cody was just as tall as Clint and built much the same, but Cody had hair a few shades lighter and eyes that were the color of polished oak.

Clint waited for Cody to reach him. The next thing Clint knew, a fist came out of nowhere as Cody clocked him.

Pain split through Clint’s head as Cody almost knocked him off the barstool. The next thing he knew, Cody had him by the collar and was in his face.

“You sonofabitch.” Cody’s jaw was tight. “You sonofabitch.”

And then Cody had Clint in a bear hug. “I ought to knock the shit out of you again.” Cody drew back and released Clint. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Good to see you, too.” Clint rubbed his face where Cody had punched him. Cody had held back or Clint knew he’d be seeing stars and spitting blood. As it was, he could feel his skin start to bruise and swell.

Walt climbed off his stool and stood. “I’ll be seeing you two boys around.” He looked pointedly at Clint. “You and me—we’ve got some talking to do.”

Clint gave a nod and Walt turned and headed toward the entrance.

“Now it’s time to answer my question.” Cody braced one hand on the bar. “Where the hell have you been for so damned long?”

Clint let out his breath. “This is gonna take a while.”

“Then we’ll head to my place.” Cody checked his cell phone. “I’m not on call tonight so it wouldn’t hurt to sit down and knock back a few beers while we clear up a few things.”

“On call?” Clint asked. “What are you doing that you’d be on call?”

 “Guess we both have some things to talk about.” Cody slapped Clint on the shoulder. “I’m still living on the ranch. Let’s head there.”

Clint nodded. “I’ve had a few. You can drive.”

After they’d gone through the drive-thru and grabbed some take-out burgers and fries from the local hamburger joint, they headed off to the ranch. The ride out took fifteen minutes. While Cody drove, he filled Clint in on some of the things that had gone on over the past several years. Property had changed hands; a good number of their cousins were now hitched or engaged, some having babies; and some of the old folks Clint had known had passed on.

It was early evening when they arrived at the ranch. Clint’s gut twisted. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the old place until the truck rattled over the cattle guard and onto the land where he’d spent the first twenty-four years of his life. When their father died, Clint and Cody had stayed on and had run the ranch together before Clint took off.

What an asshole-ish thing he’d done—leaving his brother to take care of everything, not even letting Cody know where he’d gone. Clint knew he’d been damned selfish.

After Cody parked, they climbed out of the truck and Clint took in his surroundings. The place looked somehow smaller than he’d remembered. Everything from the barn to the storage shed to the house looked to be in good repair. Clearly, Cody had kept things up.

“I thought about selling off the place.” Cody came up beside Clint. “But I just couldn’t get myself to do it. I keep a few head of cattle and a couple of horses, but that’s about it. I don’t have time to put any real work into the ranch.”

Clint looked at Cody. “What is it you do now?”

Cody raised his ball cap and pushed his fingers through his hair before tugging it down again. “I’m a firefighter with the Prescott Fire Department.”

Clint raised his brows in surprise. “I’d never have guessed.”

Cody shrugged. “I went to the community college and got my two-year degree first, specializing in arson investigations. I’ve been with PFD for five years now.”

“How do you keep up with the ranch when you’re on duty?” Clint asked as they started toward the house.

“I’ve hired 4-H kids over the years,” Cody said. “Good experience for them and most of the time they’re hard workers.”

Clint grabbed the two bags with their dinner, shut the truck door, then walked up to the ranch-style house with Cody. They stepped onto the front porch and Cody unlocked the door and let them in.

The feeling of being home swept over him and his skin prickled as he looked at all that was old and familiar amongst things that hadn’t been there before.

The furnishings were much as Clint had remembered. The biggest exceptions were a new leather recliner and a large flat-screen TV where the old Panasonic had been. Clint hung his western hat on the hat rack by the front door and Cody tossed his cap on there, too.

When he looked at his mom’s rocking chair, a knot formed in his throat. It was there that she rocked them as babies and there that she held them when they were little and she wanted to hold them close. It was there that she spent most of her last few days on this earth.

“When did Jango pass away?” Clint asked as he thought of the family Australian shepherd that had been ten years old when Clint left.

“He held on for a couple of years after you were gone,” Cody said. “Ready for another beer to go along with the burgers and fries?” He was already headed for the kitchen and Clint joined him.

After Cody had grabbed a couple of Rolling Rocks and they’d popped off the lids, they went back into the living room where they each took a bag of the fast food. Cody sat in the newer leather recliner and Clint took a seat on the brown leather couch.

Cody set his bag and beer on a small table next to the recliner. “Start talking.”

Clint took a swig of his beer then placed it on one of the end tables beside the couch. “It’s a long story.”

Cody reached into his bag and brought out one of his two burgers. “We’ve got time.”

A pause as Clint thought about what he was going to say. “After Bucky died, I had to get out of here.” Clint dragged his hand down his face. “I wanted to get as far from Arizona as I could. So I packed up a few things and headed to Phoenix, but had to stick around there until I could get my passport. Then I took off for Scotland.”

Cody had just stuffed a couple of fries into his mouth and finished chewing then swallowed. “So what the hell was there?”

With a shrug, Clint said, “It just seemed like a good place to start.”

“Start what?” Cody asked before taking a bite of his burger.

“Backpacking across Europe.” Clint munched on fries as Cody studied him. After swallowing, Clint said, “I spent a lot of time soul-searching and spent four years traveling. I’d stop somewhere for a while, work long enough to make a little money to stash away and move on.”

Cody continued to eat as he listened to Clint.

“I spent time in each country I traveled to,” Clint said, “getting to know parts of it fairly well.”

“You said you backpacked across Europe and wherever the hell else you went for four years,” Cody said. “What did you do for the next three years?”

“Headed to South America.” Clint gave a wry smile. “I settled in Argentina, close to the Chilean border, raising horses for nearly three years. I’d saved all I could over the previous four years and bought a small place,” he went on. “Raised Criollo, a breed native to the country. They’re fine horses, bred from Arabian, Andalusian, and Barb stock. Started with a couple of mares, had them serviced, then went on from there.”

Cody nodded for Clint to go on.

“A month ago I sold off my horse ranch for a decent sum,” Clint continued. “After all was said and done, I headed back to the States. I planned to go to Montana and buy a ranch there, but wound up here.”

“Montana?” Cody narrowed his brows. “You intended to go to Montana instead of Prescott?”

Clint raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been gone for so long I didn’t think there’d be much of a welcome here.”

Cody shook his head. “I should have given you a good ass-kicking at the bar instead of a little tap.”

Clint rubbed the side of his face. “I guess I deserved that.” First Ella had slapped him and then Clint had let him have it. They were two of the hottest-tempered people Clint knew, but also two of the kindest and best people he’d ever known.

The thought of Ella made his gut clench. He’d been summoned to dinner with the Fishers and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Although he had to admit that he wanted to see Ella again, even if there would never be anything between them.

Cody balled up his paper bag. “How long have you been back in the States?”

Clint shrugged. “A few days.”

“I should kick your ass twice over for not calling me as soon as you got to town,” Cody said. “I imagine you have a story or two to tell.”

Clint gave a small smile. “Something like that.”

Cody’s gaze grew serious. “You should have called, sent a postcard, anything to let us know you were alive. Garrett tracked you as far as Phoenix and then you boarding that plane. So we knew you took off for Scotland but your trail grew cold almost right away.”

It was Clint’s turn to be surprised. “You and Garrett?”

“He is a private investigator after all,” Cody said. “We decided not to tell anyone. We figured you’d come back eventually and we’d hear from you, where you’d been, and what you’d been up to. Maybe even get in touch with me. But you never came back and we never heard from you.”

“The longer I was there, the harder it got.” Clint let out a rush of air. “I had an entirely different life.”

“I don’t suppose a woman was the reason you finally settled,” Cody said.

“Nah.” Clint shook his head. “There was a woman I met in Argentina but turned out she couldn’t settle for just one man. It took me some time to catch on to her, but when I did I decided I wasn’t ready to settle down anyway. It was like a part of me knew I’d be coming back.”

The last thing he’d said caught him a little off guard but he realized it was true. A part of him had known he’d return.

Cody gestured toward Clint’s bag. “Your food is getting cold.”

Clint stuck his hand into his bag and pulled out a burger. “Why don’t you do the talking and I’ll eat a bite?”

Cody leaned back in his recliner and put his feet up. He took a long pull from his beer before resting the bottle on his thigh as he held it with one hand. “Like I told you, not a lot has changed since you’ve been gone. Folks coming and going, getting married, having kids, and some passing on.”

While he listened to his brother, Clint ate his cold burgers and fries and drank from his now warm beer.

Cody told Clint some of what he’d seen and done as a firefighter and went into more detail about old friends they’d had and what they were up to now.

“You still play guitar?” Clint asked.

Cody nodded. “Whenever I’ve got the time.”

When Clint finished eating, Cody got up from his recliner and took Clint’s bag. He tossed the garbage then gave a nod toward the front door. “I have something to show you,” he said.

They headed outside and walked in the direction of the barn. Motion-sensor floodlights came on at the house and then at the barn. Cody unlatched the doors and as they swung open he switched on a light, flooding the area where the alfalfa and feed were kept. Horses neighed as they walked to the storage area at the back of the barn.

A dusty canvas tarp covered something on one side of the area. Cody strode to the canvas and dust filled the air as he pulled the cover away from the old black GTO.

“You kept it.” Clint smiled, feeling a twinge in his chest, an ache that told him he’d missed home even more than he’d realized. “I wasn’t sure you would have.”