McKettricks of Texas: Austin (8 page)

Austin watched him go, didn't look at Garrett when he spoke. “What's chewing on
him?
”

“We're still losing livestock,” Garrett replied after a long time and with significant reluctance.

Austin faced Garrett straight on. “Stolen?” Before Charlie and his gang had been rounded up, they'd raided the McKettrick herd a number of times, carted off a lot of living beef in semitrucks. Another half-dozen cattle had been gunned down and left to rot.

“About a hundred head, as far as we can tell,” Garrett replied. “A few more were shot, too.”

Austin swore. “You and Tate were planning on mentioning this to me—when…?”

Garrett sighed, folded his arms. Scuffed at the ground with the toe of one boot. “We figured you had enough to worry about, what with your back being messed up and everything.”

“I get a little sore once in a while,” Austin bit out, stung to a cold, hard fury, “but I'm not a cripple, Garrett. And what happens on this ranch is as much my concern as it is yours and Tate's—whatever you think to the contrary.”

Tate came out of the barn again. Because of the angle of his hat brim, his face was in shadow, and there was no reading his mood, but Austin figured it was still bad.

As if you gave a damn,
Tate had said.

Where the hell had
that
come from?

Garrett thrust out a sigh. “Tate's pretty worried,” he said, keeping his voice down. “And I can't say I blame him. Rustling is one thing, and killing cattle for the hell of it is another. It's hard not to conclude that somebody out there has worked up a pretty good grudge against us, for whatever reason, and we figure it's bound to escalate.”

Tate waved but headed for his truck instead of joining the conversation between Austin and Garrett.

At the moment, that was fine with Austin, because he was pissed off at being left out of the loop. Okay, so he had a herniated disc. He couldn't ride bulls anymore, and for the time being, he wouldn't be doing any heavy-duty ranch work, either. But one-third of the Silver Spur was his, and he had a right to know what went on within its boundaries, whether it was good or bad.

He watched as Tate got into the truck and drove off.

Garrett started toward the house and, after a moment's hesitation, Austin fell into step beside him, but there was no more talk.

Once they were inside, Garrett headed for his part of the house, and Austin went to his, glad to find Shep there waiting for him. It made him feel a little less lonely.

A little, not a lot.

He fed the dog, then made for the bathroom, kicking off his boots and stripping down for a hot shower.

The spray eased some of the residual knots in his back, and he felt damn near human by the time he toweled off and pulled on fresh clothes. He ran a comb through his hair, put his boots back on and then went downstairs.

Shep, having finished his nightly kibble ration, went along, too, curious and companionable.

Austin searched the large storage room adjoining the garage until he found the camping gear. He took a
rolled-up sleeping bag out of a cabinet—it smelled a little musty—and returned to the kitchen.

There he ate two frankfurters straight from the package, drank what was left of the milk and called it supper. If he got hungry later, he could always raid the kitchen again. Before going off to El Paso to take care of her niece and the new baby, Esperanza had cooked up and frozen enough grub to last for weeks.

He was in no danger of starvation.

 

T
HE TEENAGE ACTORS WERE ON A BREAK,
and Paige sat with Julie and Calvin in the front row of the small auditorium, the three of them sharing a submarine sandwich from the supermarket deli.

Paige wanted to tell her sister all about the little mare, Molly, and how gentle Austin had been with the animal, but with Calvin right there and some of the drama club kids within earshot, that didn't seem like a good idea.

“Did you decide whether or not you'll take the job?” Julie asked, finishing her part of the sandwich, crumpling the wrapper and stuffing it into the bag.

“What job?” Paige asked, momentarily confused.

Of course, the moment the words left her mouth, she remembered Garrett's offer, made that morning in the ranch-house kitchen. Basically, he and Tate wanted her to play nursemaid to Austin.

“You knew Garrett and Tate were planning to ask me to serve as Austin's nurse?” Paige wondered aloud.

Of course she had, and Libby, too. Most likely, her sisters had set her up, hoping she would fall for Austin the way they had for his brothers and make the wedding a triple.

Even after a long day of teaching, Julie's smile was
brilliant. She seemed to have boundless energy, and it took a lot to catch her off guard.

“Sure I did,” she replied, unfazed. “Garrett and I talked about it last night.”

Paige sighed. “I see.”

Julie elbowed her lightly. “Answer my question,” she said.

“Right now, I'm inclined to refuse,” Paige replied, taking the sandwich bag from Julie and dropping in what remained of her supper and a couple of wadded paper napkins. “Austin didn't exactly take kindly to the idea.”

“That's just his pride,” Julie said with a dismissive wave of one hand. “This is serious, Paige. If Austin isn't careful, he'll have to have surgery, and that's always a risk.”

Paige widened her eyes at Julie. “Yes,” she said pointedly, “as an RN, I'm familiar with the risks.”

Julie smiled angelically. Since she'd fallen in love with Garrett McKettrick and the two of them had decided to get married, she seemed to float through life, unconcerned with the moods of ordinary mortals like her younger sister. “It's not as if you're terribly
busy
or anything,” she reasoned cheerfully. “You probably won't have to do anything more strenuous than make sure Austin doesn't sneak off to enter some rodeo. How bad could it be?”

In her mind's eye, Paige saw Austin tending the ailing mare, recalled the way he'd touched the animal, the gentle, rumbling tone of his voice. And she felt new emotions, things that had little or nothing to do with the girl she'd been so long ago, and the boy that girl had loved.

She was a woman now.

Austin was most definitely a man.

And watching him that afternoon, sitting on his haunches in that stall, next to Molly, Paige had come to the startling realization that this was a whole new ball game.

“Paige?” Julie prompted in a happy whisper. “Since you seem to have something—or some
one
—else on your mind, I'll repeat my question. How bad could it be, taking care of a hunk like Austin McKettrick?”

It could be really,
really
bad, Paige figured, but again, this wasn't the time or place to talk about such things.

Paige shook her head, but she was smiling. “I think Calvin and I ought to get back to the ranch. Harry will be wanting his kibble, for one thing.”

“Garrett will feed Harry,” Julie said. But she stood up, and Calvin stood, too, and Julie slipped an arm around her little boy. Bending, she kissed the top of his head and then ruffled his hair. “I won't be late,” she told the child, her voice tender. “Mind your Aunt Paige and wash all over when you take your bath and don't ask for more than one bedtime story, okay?”

Calvin looked up at his mother, blinking behind the lenses of his glasses. “Okay,” he said in a tone of mock resignation. Turning to Paige, he added solemnly, “I won't need any help with my bath, because I'm five now, and I can pretty much read any book on my own, too, but I still like the sound of your voice when I'm falling asleep. It's almost as good as when
Mom
reads to me.”

Paige laughed. “Well,” she said, “I guess
that's
settled.”

Julie gave Calvin another hug and then started the rehearsal again.

“I'll be glad when Mom is married to Garrett and making a baby,” Calvin confided as he and Paige left the
auditorium, hand in hand, walking toward her car. “The play will be over then, and she'll be at home every night, like most moms.”

Paige bit her lower lip and helped her nephew into his car seat, checking to make sure that he was properly buckled up. She was behind the wheel with the headlights on and the motor going before she responded to his remark, and then she took pains to speak casually. “The musical is this month,” she said. “And there are only a few performances, aren't there?”

Turning her head, she saw Calvin nod in confirmation. “Two Friday night shows and two Saturday night shows and then she's all done.” He paused. “And there's the class trip to Six Flags, too. You're going, aren't you?”

Paige suppressed a sigh. She'd forgotten about the kindergarten field trip to the famed amusement park, scheduled for the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Hadn't even discussed it with Julie yet, and of course that had to happen before she could make any promises.

“Your mom and I will talk about it,” she said.

“When?” Calvin asked, sounding a little plaintive. The poor kid was tired, she reasoned, and with Julie so busy helping the drama club rehearse their play, he missed his mother.

“Tomorrow,” Paige answered, pulling carefully out onto the main road, pointing the car in the direction of the Silver Spur.

“Promise?” Calvin persisted.

“Promise,” Paige said with a little smile.

After that, Calvin lightened up, having conveyed his dissatisfaction with the long hours Julie had been putting in lately, and told her all about his day. One of the other kids in his class had eaten a bug and thrown up, and his
teacher had a headache after that and had to rest in the teacher's lounge while the librarian's assistant took over the art program. He asked, as he often did, how long it would be, in “actual days,” until he could start first grade and “learn stuff.”

“You
are
learning things, Calvin,” Paige pointed out, keeping her eyes on the road.

“How to weave pot holders with those stupid little loops,” Calvin said.

Paige laughed. “I think those pot holders are lovely,” she told him. “I use mine all the time. Your mom and your Aunt Libby love them, too.”

Calvin would not be mollified. “We make hand-prints with finger paints,” he went on scornfully. “I don't see how any of this stuff is going to prepare me for life.”

“Calvin,” Paige reminded her nephew, “you're only five. Believe me, you have plenty of time to ‘prepare for life.'” She paused. “What exactly is it that you want to learn right now,
immediately,
anyhow?”

“How to ride a horse,” Calvin said.

Paige smiled again. “You ride with Garrett all the time,” she said. “What else?”

“Higher mathematics,” Calvin replied. “World history.”

“I think it's mostly simple arithmetic and the alphabet in first grade,” she ventured, flipping the signal lever and starting the turn onto the Silver Spur Ranch.

“Well, that's just ridiculous,” he said. “I can already read and write and everything.”

“Maybe you should just go straight from kindergarten to college, then,” Paige teased, noticing that the lights were on in the barn and wondering how Molly was doing.

“I could skip a couple of grades,” Calvin replied seriously, “but Mom and Garrett and my dad all said no. They say I have to put in my time as a kid, like everybody else.”

“There you have it,” Paige said. Calvin's birth father, Gordon Pruett, had contacted Julie a couple of months before and informed her that he wanted to get to know his son. Things were moving slowly on that front. “So many people can't be wrong.”

She felt the change in Calvin before he spoke. “What's going on in the barn?” he asked. “All the chores should be finished by now.”

“Let's find out,” Paige said, stopping the car in the square spill of light at the entrance to the long, rambling structure housing the McKettrick horses, including the golden ponies Austin had given Audrey and Ava for their sixth birthday, back in June.

Calvin had unbuckled himself and pushed open the door before Paige could pull her keys from the ignition and reach for her purse.

She had planned to give him a modified rundown on Molly's situation, but she didn't get the chance. Calvin sprinted into the barn.

Paige sighed and followed.

Austin was standing in front of Molly's stall door, looking deliciously rumpled. A cot stood in the center of the breezeway, with a sleeping bag spread over it and Shep curled up underneath.

“You're going to sleep out here?” Calvin demanded of Austin, sounding delighted. “You're going to
camp out in the barn?
”

Austin slanted a glance at Paige, greeted her with a nod so slight it might not have happened at all.

“That's the plan,” he told the boy, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

Still impressed, Calvin climbed up the rails in the stall door to peer over the top. Austin looked ready to grab him if he slipped.

“This is Molly,” he explained. “Molly, this is my good friend, Calvin.”

Paige wondered why his voice made her heart flutter, weak as the first motion of a hatchling's wing.

“Hey, Molly,” Calvin cried exuberantly.

By that time, Paige was standing close enough to hook an arm around Calvin's middle and hold him up so he could see the black-and-white mare without clinging precariously to the stall door.

Her arm touched Austin's, and she took a half step to the side.

Molly had been groomed since Paige had seen her last, and she was on her feet, too. There were raw strips on the animal's head, where the nylon halter straps had been, glistening with ointment.

“Can Molly be my horse?” Calvin asked, squirming so that Paige had to set him down. “I could feed her and ride her and put medicine on her cuts—”