Texas Rose Forever (Texas Rose Ranch #1) (20 page)

“We’re all adults here.” Rowdy pulled a plate down, dumped some flour on it, and added a shake or two from the spices he’d pulled out. “Anyway, we kept the condoms in the bathroom for some reason, I don’t know why, it’s not like people have lots of sex in the bathroom—”

“Speak for yourself.” Cinco surprised everyone, including himself. “She really likes my shower.”

“He has a point, but I wondered that same thing so I moved them into the nightstand.” CanDee scraped her knife around the potato until it was naked and then she tossed it in the bowl.

Rowdy put his hands over his ears. “Stop talking about your sex life. I’m right here and it’s gross. I don’t need to know these things about you two.”

“Such a prude. Wait until you meet Justus. She’s going to yank the prude right out of you.” She laughed to herself. Justus was very open and honest about everything.

“Anyway, before people started interrupting me, I was about to tell you that one night we both needed a condom and there was only one left. It started with rock, paper, scissors, and ended with punches. By the time we’d hashed out who’d won—”

“It was me. I won.” Cinco called from the pantry.

“Anyway, both of our . . . um . . . dates . . . were sound asleep.” Rowdy sighed long and hard. “All I got that night was a black eye, a split lip, and some bruised ribs.”

“Y’all fight a lot. Is that normal?” She picked up another potato and peeled it.

“Normal for who?” Cinco emptied the last canvas bag. “It’s normal for us.”

“You don’t have any brothers or sisters, do you?” Rowdy reached in the cabinet next to the stove and pulled out a huge cast-iron skillet.

“No, I’m an only child.” She finished that potato and moved on to the next one.

“Would that I’d been an only child.” Rowdy picked up a bottle of canola oil and poured most of the bottle into the pan. He turned the knob and a ring of fire lit under the pan.

“Please, you’d be a wimpy, old lush gulping down wine in your weird museum house with twenty-five cats if it weren’t for me. I made a man out of you.” Cinco stowed the canvas shopping bags in the pantry.

“No, I believe that was Jenny Dennison.” Rowdy grinned. “She taught me many things none of which, thank God, I learned from you. And I sip my wine, thank you very much.”

“It must be nice to have history like the two of you. I mean having grown up together. All I had was my grandmother.” Not that she was complaining.

“What’s Grandma like?” Rowdy flicked a drop of water into the oil, testing it for temperature. Since he didn’t add any chicken, it probably wasn’t hot enough. “We never had a grandmother. They both died before we were born.”

“Grammie is . . .” How did she make
bat-shit crazy
not sound, well, bat-shit crazy? “She lives by her own set of rules and doesn’t care if they make sense to anyone else.”

“Like how?” Cinco grabbed a paring knife on his way to the table. He sat down and picked up a potato.

“There was the combination-lock incident.” She set another naked potato down and picked up a new one. “In middle school, they issued me a combination lock for my locker so the school would have a copy of the combination. My grandmother threw a fit. Said it violated my right to privacy. I was eleven so I really didn’t have much privacy. She went around and around with the principal, who wouldn’t relent, so Grammie took it to the school board and threatened to sue.”

“What happened?” Cinco scraped the last piece of skin off of a potato and set it on top of the ones she’d peeled.

“I got to have my very own lock.” At the time CanDee had been mortified, but now she saw that her grandmother had been sticking up for her. “She called them communists for wanting control over my life.”

“I like Grammie. She sounds like good people.” Rowdy tested the oil again and got a sizzle. “I can’t wait to meet her. I’m great with grandmothers.”

“That’s because you ply them with wine until they’re so buzzed they actually think you’re nice.” Cinco rolled his eyes and then leaned in close to CanDee. “Really, the best part about him is the wine.”

She loved watching them verbally poke and prod each other. Despite their teasing, their love for one another was evident. She couldn’t wait to spend more time with the family and see if they all treated each other this way. She was getting a crash course in the Rose family and she had to admit, she liked it.

CHAPTER 20

Cinco liked that CanDee was easy with Rowdy. At first, seeing them together had brought back shades of Naomi, but CanDee wasn’t flirting, just talking to him. It was more of a brother-sister kind of thing. Rowdy liked her. She fit into Cinco’s life so easily and filled a hole in his heart that he hadn’t wanted to admit was there.

Cinco drained the boiled potatoes. He’d taken over cooking the mashed potatoes so that CanDee could ask them some questions about the genealogy.

She sat at the table, legs crossed at the knee. “Okay, I think I have the family tree down. So in 1830 Colonel Lacy Kendall Lehman bought the original plot of land and he and his lovely wife who looks like a man, Brunhilda, moved here and set up housekeeping in a tent.”

“She is rather masculine.” Rowdy nodded as he pulled a piece of fried chicken out and set it to drain on a paper-towel-covered plate.

“Brunhilda gave birth to Prudence Althea Lehman and Lacy Kendall Lehman Jr., who died at the age of ten. Prudence married Carlton Rose and had Lacy Kendall Rose Jr. Why was he junior again, since his father was Carlton Rose?”

“Prudence was honoring her brother and named her son after him, and they called him Deuce.” Cinco pulled a stick of butter out of the fridge. He plopped it into the pan where he’d boiled the potatoes.

“I guess you can call your kid whatever you want.” CanDee yawned. “George Foreman named all of his sons after him.”

Cinco watched her. She looked tired. He pressed his lips together to hide his grin. He’d kept her up late and gotten her up early this morning. Tonight, they’d go to bed early. They both needed it. Maybe they’d actually go to asleep early too.

She stretched. “Prudence also had Carlton Rose Jr., who I’m assuming they called Junior . . .”

“They called him CJ, for Carlton Junior.” Cinco dumped the drained potatoes back into the pan and grabbed the masher from the crock of kitchen tools next to the stove.

“I know it’s important to document all of this, but I don’t see the value.” Rowdy hunched his shoulders. “I’m just not into this stuff like the two of you. They’re dead, who cares?”

“It’s important to know where you came from. It’s our history.” Cinco would have gotten up and thumped his brother on the back of the head, but that would have started a fight and Rowdy was manning a pan full of boiling oil.

“Prudence also had Thaddeus Bartor Rose and Mellifluous Lehman Rose. If my name was Mellifluous, I’d change it to Mel too.” She made some notes on the purple legal pad where she’d drawn the boxes and lines of the genealogy. “At the age of fifty, Deuce married Roberta Myrtle Tensdale in 1900 and they had Lacy Kendall Rose III, called Tres. I know about Mel and Edith, but how come CJ and Thaddeus never married?”

Rowdy smiled at Cinco. “You didn’t tell her? That’s the only part of this whole story that’s interesting.” He turned to CanDee. “They were Texas Rangers. Some people said they were more outlaws than Rangers, but who knows?”

“That is interesting.” She made more notes.

“I mentioned it. I’m sure I did.” Hadn’t he? His great-great-uncles didn’t have much of a presence in Edith’s house because she didn’t like them. Their things had burned up in the fire.

“For a time, they rode with Lone Wolf Gonzaullas.” Rowdy’s face lit up. He’d always loved the fanciful tales of his great-great-uncles.

“Are they in the Texas Ranger Hall of Fame and Museum in Waco?” CanDee sat forward, excited. “I love that place.”

“Me too.” Cinco nodded. Maybe he’d take her there on the way to Bullard. “Yes, last time I went to the museum, there was an exhibit on them. Very interesting.”

“You two are made for each other.” Rowdy shook his head. “I can’t think of anything worse than the Texas Ranger museum.”

“I can. The symphony or an art gallery or a poetry reading.” Cinco mashed the potatoes.

“That’s because you’re a Neanderthal.” Rowdy pulled the last piece of chicken out of the pan. “Trust me, the symphony doesn’t want your knuckle-dragging self there disrupting those of us with taste.”

Cinco turned to CanDee. “We tried to return him to the gypsy family who’d left him on our doorstep, but they wouldn’t take him back.”

“Now, that’s just mean. And here I was, sort of interested in this whole family history thing, and you go and say something hurtful.” Rowdy was all mock offended. “Sometimes I feel that you just don’t love me, big bro.”

“Don’t fight that feeling.” He smiled at his younger brother. He and his brothers might get angry with each other, but they were always there when he needed them. And he was never lonely even when he wanted to be. He had a feeling that CanDee had been a lonely child.

“What did I do to make you hate me so much?” Rowdy shot Cinco the big puppy-dog eyes.

“Do you want that list in chronological or alphabetical order?” He walked to the fridge, pulled out the milk, and poured some in the mashed potatoes. Once he added salt, they’d be ready to eat.

“See.” Rowdy put his hand over his heart. “I’m all about the love and he’s all about the hate.”

“Yes, you’ve lived such a wounded and misunderstood life. It’s so sad.” Cinco rolled his eyes.

Rowdy reached into the cabinet on his right and pulled out the slightly smaller cast-iron skillet, and with a potholder moved the chicken-frying skillet to the back burner.

Looked like he was making gravy. He made excellent gravy.

“Big bro, can you chop up a jalapeño for me?” Rowdy spooned some of the oil the chicken was fried in and the browned bits into the smaller skillet.

“Only if you’re making jalapeño cream gravy.” Cinco covered the mashed potatoes with the pot lid and pulled a jalapeño out of the fridge. “Minced?”

“Yes, sir, on both accounts.” Rowdy turned the heat up on the pan.

CanDee finished her notes. “So after the fire, Tres moved in with Mel and Edith and then in 1942 he married Suzette Analisa McCloud, who gave birth to Lacy Kendall Rose IV, aka Bear, who married Lucy Anne Braxton, who gave birth to Lacy Kendall V, Houston Harris, Dallas Collin, Fort Worth Tarrant, and San Antonio Bexar Rose. Why are most of you named after Texas towns and their counties?”

“With the exception of the heir apparent over here, those were the towns where we were most likely conceived. Luckily the twins were twins because Mom and Dad couldn’t decide whether they were created in Dallas or Fort Worth. According to them, it was a hell of a weekend.” Rowdy grinned. “I’m just happy not to have been named College Station or Alice.”

“I think Niederwald or Marfa would have also been terrible names.
Niederwald, go clean your room. Marfa, no, you can’t borrow the car.
Neither roll off the tongue.” She made more notes and then gathered her things into a pile and slipped them into a leather tote bag she’d hooked over the back of the chair. She pulled out a two-pound bag of Peanut M&M’s. “Do you have any gallon-sized plastic bags?”

She stood and stretched.

Cinco pointed to the left-hand drawer in the island. “There.”

Was she that hungry that she was going to dig into candy right before dinner? He was about to point that out, but she was a grown woman and it wasn’t his place.

She opened the drawer, pulled out two bags, and then sat back down at the table. She opened the M&M’s bag and poured the whole thing in one of the plastic bags. One by one, she pulled out only the
yellow candies and put them in the other bag.

“Oh, I see. Those are for Lefty. Rowdy must have told you that he likes
the yellow ones because they taste better. Smart, and guaranteed to piss him off.” Cinco was beginning to see that CanDee was wily. He smiled to himself. Intelligent, beautiful, and devious—what a combination.

“There are still no tires on my golf cart. Until there are, Lefty’s life may become slightly uncomfortable.” She sifted through the M&M’s.

“What else do you have planned?” He arched an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if I can trust the two of you. You might be spies for Team Lefty.” She matched his arched eyebrow.

“Wow, she’s taking this way too seriously.” Rowdy added the minced jalapeño to the pan and it sizzled.

“Vengeance is very serious. Plus, I feel that he’s slighted not only me, but all women.” She pulled out more yellow ones.

“No, I’d say he’s an equal-opportunity hater. It’s not just women. He hates Yankees, people under twenty-five, people over twenty-four, anyone who’s bald, anyone who has hair, and anything with a pulse, and most of all, he hates brown M&M’s.” Rowdy glanced at Cinco. “Did I miss anything?”

“Nope, I think you covered it all.” Cinco took the knife and chopping board to the sink and washed it. He set it in the drainer to dry along with the knife and bowl CanDee had used for peeling the potatoes. He liked that she cleaned up after herself.

“So I need to go heavy on the brown M&M’s.” She started pulling out everything that wasn’t brown. “Got it.”

“If we promise not to tell, will you tell us your plan for Lefty?” Cinco just wanted to make sure that everything stayed congenial.

“Well, I take it he wasn’t pleased that I drove Betsy to the cottage this morning.” She moved colored candies from one bag to the other.

Cinco looked at Rowdy and they both turned to her.

“That was ballsy.” Cinco was proud of her. “How did you know that Betsy is his most prized possession?”

She looked up. “I didn’t. She just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Total crime of opportunity.”

“How did you start the engine? There’s no key.” Rowdy was in awe of her bravado.

“YouTube video. You can find out how to do almost anything on YouTube.” She reached behind her and pulled something out of a plastic Walmart bag. “If both of you promise to keep quiet, I’ll tell you the next step in my reign of Lefty terror.”

She held up a box. “I bought a bedazzler at Walmart. I think Lefty’s eye patch could use some rhinestones. Perhaps something in a smiley face or some pouty pink lips?”

Rowdy laughed. “You’re good. Remind me to never piss you off.”

“That’s really funny.” Cinco walked to the kitchen table and sat beside her. “You know that payback’s going to be bad.”

“Absolutely. I’m waiting to see what he comes up with next. Really, the missing tires were amateur at best.” She was all excitement. She enjoyed the sparring. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll bedazzle his jeans. Nothing says ‘I’m a rough and tough cowboy’ like some sparkly angel’s wings on the back pockets.”

“I like her.” Rowdy sprinkled flour over the pan drippings and jalapeño. He stirred and stirred.

“Me too.” Cinco leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I think I’ll keep her.”

CanDee winked at him and that was it. He stopped falling and landed smack dab in love with CanDee McCain. He should have been nervous or anxious, but all he felt was peace. It was like coming home after a long trip and finally getting to sit in his favorite chair and sleep in his bed. She was his comfort . . . his home. That’s what had been missing with Naomi. She’d never felt like his reward at the end of a long, hard day. CanDee was both a reward and a guilty pleasure.

She was the one for him. The only person who made his life complete. It was so clear. The life they would have together would be full of silly pranks, laughter, and happiness. Along the way, there would be disagreements and heartache, but they would weather it together . . . a partnership based on mutual love and respect. This was the life he wanted . . . this was the life he was meant to have. He had a feeling that he’d remember this moment for the rest of his life and he hoped that he would.

His father had told him that he’d know when the right woman came along, and the right woman was sitting next to Cinco. Did he tell her that he loved her right now? Did she feel the same way about him? Anxiety punched him in the stomach.

CanDee deserved a ring and marriage . . . nothing less. Just because he’d gotten married quickly the first time didn’t mean that getting married quickly this time wouldn’t work . . . did it?

When should he propose? Was it too soon? What if she didn’t feel the same way?

“Are you okay?” CanDee placed her hand over his. “You look a little shell-shocked. Is something wrong?”

He just stared at her. His mouth turned as dry as sandpaper.

“Can you slap him or something before he retreats too far into his head?” Rowdy poured milk into the pan in a steady stream. “Cinco, use
your words. Talking is good.”

“What’s the matter?” CanDee’s golden-brown eyes were full of concern.

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “A work thing I forgot to do. I just remembered. No big deal.”

He shook it off. He needed to find out how CanDee felt pretty damn quick because one-sided love didn’t work for him. This time he wanted it all and he aimed to get it. This time, he wanted forever, and his forever was centered around CanDee.