Texas Strong (8 page)

His grin vanished, but she couldn’t tell what was going on behind his eyes. “That sounds good.” Then he turned out and walked out the door with no further word.

“He didn’t say goodbye, Mommy,” Becky noted.

He probably wasn’t used to the social niceties. She didn’t think she’d ever met anyone more alone. “That’s not important, sweetie, especially not in light of all he’s done for us today.”

“I guess not.”

“Did you see how he felt my muscles?” Thad demanded. “He thinks I’m strong.”

She saw Becky began to scoff but cast her a quelling glance.

“You are strong. Thank you for helping, both of you. Now you get busy unpacking your rooms while I figure out what we’re having for supper.” She walked toward the kitchen but couldn’t resist one look back, seeing him close up the trailer and raise the tailgate on his truck. Then with a surprising grace for such a big man, he climbed into his pickup and with an ease she could never in a million years approximate, backed the trailer out of the driveway and drove off.

But she thought she saw him glance back toward the house before he was out of sight.

Tank drove the trailer to Johnson City, the closest rental place, and turned it in, then stopped by the parts house to get the belt. On his way back, he thought about everything else he had meant to accomplish today. His days off weren’t nearly enough for all he had going—the herd he was building, the constant need for repairs around the old place, to say nothing of the need for continual training as a fireman and his studies to be licensed as a paramedic. Added to that, he’d put in whatever time he could find on getting Bridger’s clinic ready—not that Bridger had asked him to help as he had Jackson and Ian and Mackey, but still, as a first responder, he understood the need. And like the others, he didn’t want Jackson simply paying for construction because he was rich. Mackey had a load of money, too, but Ian didn’t, and the two friends with ample funds understood Ian’s need to meet them on level ground.

This was his community, too. His blood went back to the founders. His old man might have been a bastard, but from what the older folks said, that hadn’t been true of all Pattons.

The same violence simmered in Tank’s blood, but he did his best to manage it. He wouldn’t risk passing it down to a new generation, but his sister’s children would inherit the Patton land and its legacy—the proud one, not the one of which Tank had spent his whole life ashamed.

He might be tainted by his father’s evil, but Veronica was not. His sister had a pure heart and a loving soul. Whatever price he’d had to pay to shield her, it had been well worth the cost. His sister was a shining beacon of hope, and her children bore that same light inside. They would be what future generations remembered about the Pattons. He would spend the rest of his life erasing the dark stains his father had left.

Ahead he spotted Chrissy’s pathetic excuse for a car. The small SUV was beat-up, missing hubcaps and had more than one dent. How on earth it had gotten her this far, he didn’t know.

It had one real asset, though: it was one he could work on. Too many modern vehicles had so many sealed systems that there was no choice but to take them to a professional. Shade tree mechanics were an endangered species.

First under duress, then out of necessity, he had learned how to do most any repair needed on the ranch trucks, as well as the battered vehicles Vernon Patton had deemed good enough for his family.

Tank didn’t hold with wasting money, and self-reliance was a necessity for someone who avoided others as much as he did. His own truck, however, was what could kindly be called vintage, meaning it was of an age where he could still get to and repair most of its systems. Ditto the equipment around the ranch.

Maybe he couldn’t fix everything that was wrong with this poor excuse for an automobile, but he could at least look it over to see what else needed work. To shoot it and put it out of its misery would be an act of mercy.

But from what he’d seen, Chrissy didn’t have the resources to replace it.

The belt wasn’t that hard to replace; it only required working in cramped spaces, for which his big hands weren’t ideal. But she needed a car, no matter what she said about walking and letting the kids ride the school bus.

He’d take a look through all the systems once he’d gotten it back to her place. He carried enough tools in the tool chest on the back of his truck to go through the basics.

You don’t have to do this
. In his mind, strawberry blonde waves flew around her face, caught by her slender fingers as she earnestly worried over him helping out.

He didn’t like people much, that was true. He was better off alone. His job in law enforcement was something different; there he had standards to meet and clear rules to apply.

Outside of his job, he was still that boy who went to school in patched and mended clothes, too often hand-me-downs as clean and tidy as his mother could make them. But he didn’t trust people from an early age, and being ridiculed for his clothes hadn’t helped. He’d been stocky and awkward, a kid as likely to trip over his own feet as walk a straight line. Being in the same class with the golden boys, the Four Horsemen, had been a torture, always on the outside looking in.

His one saving grace had come with football. He’d been big and strong, and he wasn’t afraid to take a hit or give one. No offensive lineman could exceed the power of Vernon Patton’s fists.

So the girls had been scared of him, and the boys had respected him on the field but steered clear of him off the field.

Alone was better. It always had been.

So why in the hell was he spending his day with a sweet, fragile woman and two little kids?

You’re really strong, Big Theo
. The boy was a kick. Tank had to admit that how the boy chattered and poked his intensely curious nose into every last thing was refreshing. The boy wasn’t afraid of him, but the sister was. She was the smarter of the two.

A few hours after he’d left, he pulled up in front of her little house and drove the towed car into her narrow drive. After he’d unhitched it, he opened the hood and poked around, then crawled beneath and perused.

“What are you doing, Big Theo?” asked the boy. A little face peered beneath the car. “Can I look?”

“Thad, get out of Deputy Patton’s way,” his mother said.

“Aw, Mom…”

Tank debated on whether or not to intervene. “There’s nothing under here to hurt him, if he’ll keep his hands to himself,” he ventured.

Slender legs bent, then her face appeared. “I don’t want him to get underfoot. What are you doing, anyway?”

His grin surprised him. “Taking a nap?”

She looked startled but quickly met his smile with one of her own. “Well, come inside to do that. We can find you a more comfortable surface to rest on.”

Why did her smile make him want to seek out more?

Why wasn’t she afraid of him or repelled by him like everyone else?

He didn’t know, and he didn’t want to find out. He needed to be on his way, but—

But there she was, even after her long day and lots of exertion, looking pretty as a patch of his mother’s flowers.

The flowers his father would have just as soon stomped through. He sobered.
Get back to the business at hand, idiot
. “Tell me again what happened and what you heard before it stalled.”

Her smile vanished.

But the sweetness didn’t. She cast her eyes to the side, remembering. Telling him again.

The sound of her voice was a kind of music, and it soothed him. Though it was wrong, he let himself relax for a few moments.

Chrissy peered outside yet again, and he was still working on the car. Supper was nearly done, but he was doing her a favor, and she didn’t know if the timing was bad or not.

Then ask him, idiot. Don’t stand here wringing your hands
. It wasn’t that she was scared of him, not really. Despite the warnings she’d received, he’d been nothing but kind to her and her kids. Maybe the others didn’t understand him. Maybe he wasn’t who they thought.

Or she could be the same idealistic fool she’d been too many times before.

Regardless, he’d done her massive favors today, and she needed to focus only on beginning her repayment of the debt, so she squared her shoulders and stepped outside the back door. “Tank? The food is nearly ready. I’m sorry to interrupt, but—”

He straightened from under the hood. “It’s fine. I’ve done what I can for now.” He closed the hood. “Let’s head inside, Thad.”

“Okay, Big Theo,” her son replied easily, skipping to catch up to the man. Her son had complete faith in him, so shouldn’t she ease up on her worries? She tried to relax as they approached, but he’d done so much for her, and it had been a very long time since she’d fed anyone but her kids and—

He made her jumpy, she had to admit.

But not because she was scared of him. Of her own judgment, sure. But not of him.

“Wash your hands first, Thad.”

“Okay, Mom,” Thad agreed equably.

Her brows lifted. Just like that?

“Guys get dirty hands working on stuff,” Thad said. “Right, Big Theo?”

Her heart twisted as she saw her son emulating the big man.

“That’s right.” Tank grinned at her, and she had to smile back.

“Smells good in here,” he said.

She flushed. “I hope you’ll like it. It’s nothing fancy, just spaghetti.” She’d had to improvise the sauce, but she thought it tasted okay.

“I love spaghetti! Do you, Big Theo?”

“I do.”

“But you could make that yourself any time. I wish I could—”

He touched her for the very first time, one hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “It’s a treat to have a meal prepared by a pretty lady.”

The contact jarred her, sending a little shiver over her skin. She fumbled for a response. He thought she was pretty?

His gaze met hers, then slid away. He removed himself to the sink, and she was left staring at his broad back. Ogling, really, and she whirled away, astonished at herself. She was no shy maiden. She’d had her share of wild times—more than her share, probably, but he…flustered her.

She never got flustered with men.

He seemed almost…shy. Tentative. At odds with the confidence a man of his strength and size should possess. She’d been powerless her whole life, unable to stop drifting on the wispy winds of impulse. Yet he, who should feel invincible if his size counted for anything, seemed surprisingly unsettled.

She cast around for a neutral topic. “How’s my car?”

He turned, wiping his hands dry. “I can’t fix the belt yet. I’m sorry. There’s something wrong with one of the pulleys. I’m guessing a bearing is frozen, but I won’t know until I can pull it off. I need better light. Okay if I come back in the morning to take a look? Even if you’re not here?”

Do you trust me?
He seemed to be asking. “Of course, but don’t you have to work?”

“I seldom get two days off in a row, but I have them this time.”

“Then you should be spending them doing something fun.”

“Don’t have a lot of time for fun. I have cattle to tend and a ranch to maintain.”

“You have a ranch, Big Theo? That’s awesome! Does that mean you’re a real cowboy?”

Another of those rare smiles that made him beautiful. “For generations back. My people helped settle this place.” But a shadow crossed his features, and she wondered at the cause.

“Do you ride a horse and everything?”

“Sometimes. I do have a horse.”

“What’s his name?” Becky spoke up for the first time. She loved all things horses.

“His name is Goliath.”

“Can I ride him?” Thad asked.

Becky looked just as eager.

“ ’Fraid not. He’s not a good horse for kids. Sorry.” At their looks of disappointment, he tried again. “But maybe I can work something out to borrow one.” He tensed, and she wondered why. “Don’t want to get your hopes up, though.”

“It’s okay, Big Theo,” Thad said loyally. “I know you’ll try your best.”

A brief, sad smile. “Would you like to ride, too, Miss Becky?”

Her blonde curls bounced as she nodded. “Yes, please.” She hesitated. “If it’s not too much trouble.”