Tex Times Ten (8 page)

“And money, and buckles, and kisses and hopefully sex,” Navarro said. “However, I think it’s safe to say that you ain’t getting any. Kisses or sex, that is. You might win the money and the buckle, depending on what Ant does.”

Across the arena, Cissy’s sad eyes locked onto his.

“I couldn’t lose,” Tex said. “For all the obvious sentimental reasons, and then the fact that it’s a man thing.”

His brothers stared at him, digesting. “True,” they said.

“But then again, it might have been cricket to let your gal pal look good to her boss,” Last offered. “Then you might have gotten sex. This way, you’re going to get the cold shoulder. But I would expect
you
to be more focused on the ego thing than the sex thing.”

“Spare me,” Tex said, watching another cowboy get flung to the dirt and then get chased up the rail
by a bull. “A man’s gotta do his job. There’s no guarantee of a woman’s affections.”

“Not the way you go at it,” Navarro agreed.

Tex shrugged. He’d done what he had to, and he wouldn’t have done it any other way. Even if he’d still had the stomachache, he would have gotten up there and ridden the hell out of any bull presented to him. It was the right thing to do.

Ant jumped out of the gate on BadAss Blue, and it seemed all the Lonely Hearts ladies leaned forward as one. Blue jumped and thrashed, buckled and blew, but it was no knuckle-popper of a show like Bloodthirsty had put on. Finally the buzzer sounded. Ant jumped off, heading away from the bull and onto a gate until Blue had been safely steered out.

The whole building went silent, waiting.

“Seventy-nine!” the announced called. “Tex Jefferson easily wins the championship! Same cowboy, different bull, different salon, and he still gets the job done. Hurray for the man from Malfunction Junction!”

People slapped Tex on the back and cheered and called his name. Across the arena, he saw Cissy leave, and then Marvella and her crew filed out. It wasn’t hard to miss the animosity radiating across the sawdust and bleachers.

His brothers looked at him stoically.

“Let me repeat Cissy’s congratulations,” Last said. “And let me spell this out for you—you won the man thing, and lost the girl. You dummy.”

Cissy could feel the heat of Marvella’s stare on her as they left the arena. In silence, the group of women returned to the salon. Cissy headed upstairs to her room without speaking to anyone.

She didn’t feel guilty about what she’d done at all. None of it. Rocks pelted her window, and she looked out. “Tex! Haven’t you gotten me into enough trouble?”

“No! Come out and congratulate me!”

“You’re crazy! If Marvella sees me leave with you, she’s going to think there’s a conspiracy. Or that I’m happy you won.”

He cocked his head at her, looking devilishly sexy and delighted with himself. “Aren’t you?”

There was no need to reply to that. “Stop fishing for applause. Don’t you have something better to do than stand in the street and yell at me?”

“No.” He grinned up at her. “Is she going to send you to bed without supper? If she is, I’ll be happy to take you out. It’s the least I can do to thank you for, you know…the great rescue.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“So I don’t want to eat alone. Come with me.”

“Last I checked, there were ten women eager to share a meal with you. I’m sure they’re across the street visiting with their sisters and enjoying their first win.”

“Yeah, but I’d rather eat with one cool chick than ten okay chicks.”

Cissy stared at him. Why now? Why him? Finally, she said, “Go away, Tex. You’re making my life more difficult than it needs to be.” And she shut the window.

T
EX STARED DOWN AT HIS
boots as Cissy disappeared from view. She was right. He was making her life more difficult. Why, though? All he wanted to do was help her, rescue her, to fulfill his obligation to his new sister-in-law, Hannah.

But Last was right: she didn’t want anything to do with him. And Tex couldn’t blame her. He’d won the battle and lost the war.

He so badly wanted to change that. “Well, hell. You win, you lose, and sometimes you do them both at the same time. Rare talent, that.”

There was nothing more for him here. He glanced up at Cissy’s window one more time, but it was shut tighter than a virgin’s legs and wasn’t going to open for him anytime soon.

Sighing, he headed to his truck. He made certain his gear was secured, then looked around for his brothers’ truck. They had vamoosed. It was time for him to do so as well. By now, back home, his roses
should be blooming. At least there was
something
for him to look forward to at Malfunction Junction.

Inside the truck, on the car seat, was the copy of Cissy’s contract.

He’d drop that off with Brian before he checked on the roses, he decided. Just in case there were so many blooms that he got excited and forgot that he was supposed to be an award-winning cowboy. He’d won a trophy, a buckle, lots of kisses from Delilah’s girls—on the cheek, of course—and Delilah’s gratitude.

Hannah had asked him to help Cissy out of her contract. Delilah had asked him to ride her bull. “One down, one to go,” he said. “And then I’m going to take photographs of my extremely hot roses. That’s all I want, to look at my colorful beauties while my body recovers.”

And maybe Brian could figure out something to do about Cissy. Because Tex was certainly coming up with zeroes.

A
T
M
ALFUNCTION
J
UNCTION
, there wasn’t a lot of excitement over Tex’s win. Mason barely looked up from his newspaper when Tex walked in. The other brothers, who’d by now been prepped by Navarro and Last and Archer, gave a few claps but then focused on their Pokeno game.

Pokeno. Who wanted to play a game like that? Of course, it was one of the few games that they all could play together. Their father, Maverick, had used the game to make them focus on numbers when they were little, but Bandera said the game had only given
him a love of cards and Last said he’d learned to love M&M’s because that’s what they’d used for chips.

Maybe he wouldn’t head over to Mimi’s. Tossing the contract into a drawer, he decided to check out the lay of the land. His brothers weren’t exactly throwing him a victory party, and they were acting suspicious.

“I’m going to go check the flower bed,” he said to the room at large.

No one moved. All the heads stayed down.

Tex shrugged and went out the back door. “Oh, ye of little faith,” he said to himself. With excitement, he approached the carefully tended, lovingly prepared, prayerfully watered rose bed that his mother had loved. His own sentimental tribute to her memory.

And found nothing but black, shriveled buds anywhere his bouncing, shocked gaze hit.

Inside the house, the brothers raised their heads to wait.

“Damn it!” Tex yelled. “Crap! Double crap! Fust-a-monkey!”

“Oh, God, it’s painful,” Navarro said.

“Someone get their gun and put him out of his misery,” Bandera pleaded.

“Criminey,” Mason said, rubbing his eyes. “I really thought about cutting those things off at the roots and telling him deer had got them. I really did. He would have believed me.”

“Well, anything would be better than this!” Fannin exclaimed as the sound of a bucket hitting the
wall made them all groan. “He’s going out of his mind.”

“It’ll be worse when he sees that Mimi’s roses bloomed just as big as life and twice as beautiful.” Last got up from his chair. “I suggest we talk him into doing shots tonight. It’s the only way to shut him up. Where’s the whiskey? Tequila?”

“If we had neighbors, they would have called the men with straitjackets by now,” Crockett observed. “Give me the phone.”

“We do have neighbors, but they’re used to unholy uproar over here,” Calhoun pointed out. “I think the sheriff just turns up the TV a little.”

“This time it didn’t even get to the Budus Interruptus stage,” Last said sadly. “I’d have to regretfully call this Budus No-hope-us.”

“Why can’t he be normal? Why can’t he get that tense over a woman?” Archer demanded. “I could handle him getting that disturbed over a female. But I do find it hard to relate when it’s just flowers. God, he’s like Ferdinand the bull or something. It’s odd, man.”

“It’s symbolic,” Last explained. “It’s sexual. Think Georgia O’Keeffe. And it’s a memory of our mother, for him. It’s the same as us avoiding talking about why we never go hunting Maverick. Why do we avoid it? He could be old. He could be dead. He could be remarried, amnesiac or fill dirt. Dead or alive, damn it, he’s somewhere. God only knows every one of us has some kind of phobia, some kind of hang-up. Maybe two. Because we got abandoned and we’re pissed. It’s not just Tex who wants to
throw buckets around and scream frustration. He’s just more honest than us. At least his hang-up is harmless. And we make fun of him for it.” He took a deep breath. “To make ourselves feel better. And maybe…maybe we should just quit feeling sorry for ourselves.”

His brothers stared at him.

“Hell, yeah. I’m finally airing it. I’m talking about
Dad.
Who shoulda been home, hell, twenty freaking years ago.”

Dead silence blanketed the room as they stared at the “baby” of the family, the philosopher, the psychologist and even the evangelist, when he got on his spirit pony.

And then, chairs tumbling, M&M’s flying and Pokeno cards scattering, the men jumped to their feet to find someplace else to be other than with the truth.

I
N HER GARDEN
, M
IMI HEARD
the roar of disappointment and pulled her gloves off with a sigh. “That would be Tex,” she murmured. “And I bet myself a buck he gets no sympathy from his brothers.”

She tossed her gloves into the rose garden and began walking toward the ranch house next door. It took her five minutes, but that would give him time to pull himself together. The sound of something like a mower or a Weed-Eater made her walk faster.

Heading to the back of the house, she found Tex, Weed-Eater in hand, destroying his rosebushes. Pieces of leaves and stems flew as he worked a mighty hatchet job—as far down to the ground as he could get.

“Tex!” she shouted. “Tex!”

He glanced at her and switched the thing off reluctantly. “Hi, Mimi.”

“Um, Tex,” she began, “hey, congratulations. I heard about your awesome ride.”

“Thanks.”

Neither of them glanced toward his handiwork.

“I heard your dad stabilized,” he said.

“For the moment.” She stared into his beautiful dark eyes, so much like Mason’s. All the brothers had them. They pulled a woman in and kept her captive.

She knew that firsthand. “Sorry about your roses,” she finally said.

“It’s not just the roses,” he said after glancing wildly around. “It’s something more than that.”

She nodded. “You know, you’re one of the best of the bunch, Tex,” she said.

He looked at her. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Well, you are.”

They were silent for a moment. “Hey, I hear you might be expecting.”

“I hope so. I’ll know for certain next week.”

“That’s great. I’ll be an uncle.” He smiled for the first time.

“Yeah. And I’ll be a mother.”

“Hey, how weird is that?” He grinned at her, and she smiled back.

“Extra-weird,” she said, and they both laughed together. Then she grew serious. “Brian doesn’t know yet.”

He looked at her.

“I’m waiting for a special time to tell him,” she hedged. “It’s all been so crazy and fast since Dad’s been in the hospital. There just hasn’t been the proper moment.”

“But you told Mason.”

She nodded. “Habit. I’ve been telling Mason things for years. He was the only person I talked to about stuff. Just keep this under your hat for now, okay?”

He looked back at the rose stalks that the Weed-Eater had chewed on but not destroyed. “Sure, Mimi. You’ll get it all worked out.”

“Tex, listen, I think the problem you’re having is that you need new bushes. I think your pilot program of using similar plants to what your mom had may not be right for you. Have you ever thought of that?”

“Um, no.”

He didn’t want to, she knew. He wanted everything the way his mother had loved it.

“Well, change can be good. Sometimes.”

They smiled again. “Thanks, Mimi,” he said. “By the way, can I give you something to give to Brian?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Come on in the house for a second, if you don’t mind, and I’ll get it.”

She followed him in, automatically glancing around for Mason. “I’ll wait right here,” she said, settling into the armchair in front of the TV. “I’ve always wondered what it felt like to kick back like this.”

“Here.” Tex put the recliner all the way back.
“Now, close your eyes, little mama, and rest. I’ll be right back.”

She did, and the leather felt good. Maybe she should get one of these for Brian, she thought, for their first anniversary. No, better yet, it could be his Dad gift when she told him that they were expecting.

Hopefully it would be a pleasant surprise.

M
ASON STARED DOWN AT THE
woman asleep in his recliner. Who would ever have thought his little hell-belle could look so sweet? Normally, he shared his armchair begrudgingly, but he kinda liked her being in it. It made him feel…sort of protective of her. Possessive, even.

Oh, boy. He couldn’t feel that way about another man’s wife. Tearing his gaze away from her, he focused on his brother. Tex sat beside her, watching the TV on Mute. “Is she okay?” Mason asked his brother.

“I think she’s found her just-right chair,” Tex said without looking up. “She’s probably tired from being, you know…pregnant.”

Mason’s gaze popped to his brother. “Did she tell you it was for certain?”

Tex shrugged. “Guess she has reason to be positive or she wouldn’t have mentioned it to us. By the way, we’re not supposed to buy Brian a cigar or anything. She hasn’t told him.”

Mason frowned. “Because?”

“Because she’s waiting for the just-right moment.”

That seemed reasonable. “Are you okay?” Mason asked.

Tex glanced at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Whew, he wasn’t going there if Tex didn’t want to. “No special reason,” Mason said, thinking, well, hell, maybe the great Weed-Eater massacre is a clue that you might not have been just fine-’n’-dandy. “So, when’s Sleeping Beauty surrendering my chair?”

“Don’t know. How long does a pregnant woman nap?”

“I don’t even know how long a not-pregnant woman naps.”

Tex squinted at the TV. “Guess we’re going to learn a lot of things we never knew before, if Mimi’s got a bun in the oven. How do you feel about that, anyway?”

“Fine. It’s all fine,” Mason said. “Looking forward to teaching it how to play football.”

“It?”

“Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. It’s going out for forward passes so that I can finally play football. I never really had time with this crew.” Yeah, a hell of an admission. But he’d worked his ass off being the father figure, and keeping eleven boys in hand didn’t allow for much time to be a friend.

Mimi awakened, stretching and looking at them with a smile. “Hey, Mason,” she said, her voice soft from sleepiness. “Did I steal your chair?”

“It’s fine,” he repeated hurriedly. He couldn’t say he was in a hurry for her to leave now that she was awake and he was staring into her blue eyes, but
something was definitely moving in his jeans that shouldn’t be. Her braid was shoved through a baseball cap. She was wearing cropped jeans and a short-sleeved blue sweater. Little white mule tennies on her feet revealed shapely ankles he’d never noticed before.

Oh, Lord, he didn’t want to end up like Tex, stark raving mad over something he was never going to get over. Mimi Interruptus.

“Tex, did you want to show me something? I didn’t mean to doze off on you.”

“Yeah.” He handed her Cissy’s contract, giving Mason a chance to walk off the tension. “Can you ask Brian if he minds going over this contract to look for loopholes in the fine print? I’m trying to get Cissy Kisserton out of her contract.” Mimi’s eyes lit on him, and he hurried to dig out. “For Hannah. Hannah asked me to check into things.”

“Oh.” Mimi nodded and glanced down at the contract.

The men went back to watching the mute TV; Tex could feel the back of his neck burn red. Was it wrong to do a favor for one’s friends, he asked himself? He looked after Mimi. He looked after Cissy. It was all the same.