Unbroken: Country Fever, Book 3 (14 page)

The quiet rasp of his unshaven face against her silky skin set fire to his control, and any restraint went up in smoke.

“How charming.” A rough voice dug into the center of his psyche. Claire tore her mouth free, a tremor running through her.

That voice…so like Tucker’s, yet not his at all.

Christian swung toward the speaker and found two men leading horses. Now that he wasn’t drunk on lust, he noticed the whickers of Tucker’s horses, alerting him to the fact that two new stallions were in their midst.

He squeezed Claire’s waist and let her go. “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

The taller of the two narrowed his eyes and wrapped the reins more securely around his leather-clad fist. “I’m Leon Langley and this is my son Dale. Seems to me you folks are squatting in Tucker’s house.”

Christian didn’t like the way he said that. No, he did not. “He asked us to take care of his stock while he’s away.” Claire inched closer to his side.

Dale gave a start. “Away?” Suspicion dripped from each syllable.

“That’s right. Had some business up north.”

The strangers exchanged a glance. Leon released his reins and eased forward on boots that cost more than Christian’s entire wardrobe, plus Claire’s. The rustle of his leather drover coat probably wasn’t meant to be intimidating, yet Christian felt his menace.

“Listen, son.” Leon tipped his hat back so they could see his eyes. “This here is Langley land. Me and Tucker, we’re mixed up in deeds and coal contracts. So what happens on this land concerns me quite a bit. You understand?”

“Not following your train of thought, sir.” Christian squared his shoulders and looked the man in the eye.

“Don’t you think that my nephew would have mentioned he had business up north and that he’d asked two inexperienced and…
impassioned
friends…” he swept Claire with a gaze that had Christian’s hands knotting, “…running the ranch?”

Christian shifted his weight, pressing his thigh up the length of Claire’s. She trembled. “Seems to me that Tucker would have mentioned an uncle and cousin living so nearby, if he held any stock in that familial connection.”

Dale gave a harsh laugh and the horse tethered behind Claire pawed the ground.

Leon’s glare was icy. “You watch your tongue, boy.”

“I’m no one’s
boy
, and I’d ask that you take up any trouble with Tucker. We’re just the ranch hands.” Christian took Claire’s forearm and turned her away. Accusing him of taking over the ranch didn’t set well at all. If he decided to take it up with the law, Christian had no proof that Tucker had asked them to keep his ranch running.

Then again, Christian, Claire and now Letty
were
squatting in his house, uninvited.

Without releasing Claire’s arm, he bent and swiped the water hose off the ground. Then he switched it on and trickled the flow over the horse’s hide. Behind him, the creak of leather and the stamp of horses moved away.

“They’re gone,” Claire whispered from the corner of her mouth.

Christian caressed her forearm and released her.

“I don’t know what to make of that conversation, but…I think he was threatening us or Tucker.”

“Or all,” he ground out. He had a feeling that if Leon went up to the house and saw Letty established in the kitchen, he’d shove the frail woman out the door. He dipped the scrub brush into the soapy water and employed it on the horse’s speckled flank.

“What are we going to do?” Claire’s voice dipped a notch, indicating her fear.

Christian caught her eye, wishing his hat wasn’t on the ground and the shadow of the brim could disguise any worry he couldn’t strain from his gaze. He’d texted Tucker numerous times just to check on him, and he hadn’t bothered to answer either those or Christian’s voicemails. Dammit, this wasn’t his problem. He’d gladly stand beside his friend in this fight, but he shouldn’t have to do it alone, operating half blind.

“Only thing I know to do is keep trying to contact Tucker. This is his problem.”
 

Even as he said it, he recognized it for a lie. If Tucker only thought of him and Claire as ranch hands, he wouldn’t be on the run. The man had fled from his emotions, pure and simple.

“I seen those apple trees are loaded. Another two weeks and we’ll be ready to harvest.” Letty wielded the paring knife on potatoes as if the spuds were intruders and she defending their dwelling.

A smile drifted over Claire’s face, but it didn’t remain long. Following the encounter with Tucker’s relatives, her nerves were shot. They could dump them off the ranch with ease. That wasn’t the true concern, but rather why Tucker had left if he was aware his family was grappling for control.

Maybe he really doesn’t know.

No, that couldn’t be the case. Tucker was one of the savviest judges of character she knew. He’d once sat in the diner during her shift and people-watched, a mug of high test coffee in his fist. After she finished clearing tables for the night, he’d recounted the men who had looked at her too long and the women who darted jealous glances her way—Tucker’s way of telling her to steer clear.

Had it also been a bit possessive? Claire shook her head. She couldn’t allow herself to think that. Belonging to him was too much to hope for.

Letty dropped another potato into the pot. “Think that man of yours likes potatoes?”

She started. With Tucker on the mind, it took her a full minute to figure out that her aunt spoke of Christian. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him eat anything but chili dogs.”

A squeak of mirth escaped Letty, more of a wheeze than a laugh. For twenty years, Claire had never heard any other type of laughter from her aunt, and it gave her a warm feeling.

“No wonder he hid his oatmeal in his napkin,” Letty said.

Mention of the oatmeal dragged up memories of the delectable, scorch-your-panties off kiss they’d shared in the yard. “I think he may give the oatmeal another try, Auntie.”

“I wonder if a bachelor like your Langley fella might have canning jars sitting around here?”

Claire’s breath caught. Letty had just called Christian her man and Tucker her fella. Did she realize they’d shared a wanton night together? That it was all Claire could think about—being in bed, limbs entwined with two hard men?

She took a swallow of hot tea. The apple spice filled her head. “I’ll dig around in the basement for some canning jars. If he doesn’t have any, I’ll buy some.”

“You sure feel strongly that this harvest mustn’t go to waste, if you’re putting up your own funds.” Her sharp eyes missed nothing.

“I hate to see it rot on the vine.” Behind the house was a small kitchen garden with tomatoes and beans, which still needed to be picked. What a bachelor did with all the produce was beyond her. She could barely unload the daily eggs from the chickens. Even the owner of the diner didn’t need more than a few dozen a day for the patrons.

“Be careful with that hot glue gun,” Letty advised.

On the table before her, Claire had a wooden plaque, two pots of different shades of pink paint, and a bunch of pink and silver gems. The glue gun set at her elbow, dripping goo onto a sliver of cardboard.

She took up the thin paintbrush and dipped it into the darker pink paint. In a flowing freehand, she wrote “Boom Boom”.

Letty came to look over her shoulder. “Always did have the prettiest handwriting, Claire.”

A faint smile touched her lips. She pushed the paint around the wood to thicken the lines. Then she used a second brush to highlight in pale pink.

“When I went into the craft shop in town, Marcella Evans couldn’t quit cackling at the reason for my buying these supplies.”

Claire slanted a look of amusement at her aunt. Half of Reedy thought both her and Letty eccentric. Growing up, girls had made fun of her, saying she was so weird that even her father didn’t want to be around her.

Her grip tightened around the brush as she added a final flourish under the alpaca’s name.

“Looks mighty nice. Think that animal will appreciate it?” Something in Letty’s voice told her that she lumped Christian and Tucker into said group of animals.

Tucker might not care, but I think Christian does.

She set aside the brush and swiped a curl out of her eye before taking up the glue gun. With her left hand, she pinched a hot pink star with tweezers and applied glue to the flat side.

Letty started humming a church hymn under her breath, and the pleasant
tick
of potato peels dropping into the wastebasket were soothing beats. After Claire had placed a row of pink and silver stars, she sat back to look at the name plate.

“Needs a few more stars on the top.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Claire placed five more stars then added a couple hearts for good measure. When she looked at the finished product, she envisioned it hanging on Boom Boom’s gate.

“When are you gonna get to work on those fancy ankle cuffs for the beastie?” Letty washed her hands.

“Later. I’ll let this dry here in the meantime.” Claire had been thinking about fashioning some leather anklets for the alpaca. Letty had laughed outright after first learning of it, but it was something to take Claire’s mind off her sadness.

She pushed away from the table, taking her tea with her. She drained the cup and placed it in the bottom of the sink. “We’ll make applesauce and spaghetti sauce. I’ll make sure we have jars. Gonna go help Christian.” She dropped a kiss to her aunt’s baby soft cheek.

“Don’t be late for pork chops and potatoes.”

“Not on your life.”

Moving through the rooms of Tucker’s house felt oddly familiar now. Almost like being in the house where she’d grown up. The wood floors underfoot, the warm furnishings. Even the dim glow of the afternoon sun provided a feeling of belonging.

What happened when Tucker came home though? Better yet,
if
he came home.

After they’d finished washing the horses, Christian had called Tucker on his cell. No answer. At that point, Christian had stormed off into the field, and Claire had gone inside to seek solace from her aunt. She’d called off work at the diner several times since she and Christian had taken over the ranch, but she had to stop that. She couldn’t afford to lose her job. Luckily, Christian was already laid off until the next construction job. She didn’t have that luxury.

Tomorrow I’ll go in.

She slowly drifted across the yard to Boom Boom’s pen. When the ball of wool trotted to the fence, Claire couldn’t help the smile that stretched her lips. Even with all the pain and confusion in her heart, she still had much for which to be joyful.

Automatically, she looked around for Christian. When she was outside, he was never far from her. But she didn’t hear him shifting feed in the barn or swearing at the chickens that were always in his way.

Her body responded too easily to him, but on some level, she felt as if she were being untrue to Tucker.

No, he threw us together.
Her body lit up at the reverie of Tucker’s hand moving within her as Christian stretched her ass with his thick fingers. Their thighs pressing her from both sides as she climaxed between them. On them. For them.

She shuddered.

Boom Boom nosed her palm.

“I didn’t bring you an apple this time, you greedy pig.” She chuckled and patted the tuft of hair on its head. “You need a good shearing. We’ll have a spa day soon, okay, girl?”

She moved away from the alpaca and strode out into the field behind the barn. Christian was often found here, working on an odd piece of equipment. It turned out that Tucker had a lot of broken chainsaws, weed eaters and other things that would keep the property nice-looking once fixed. It kept Christian’s hands busy to fiddle with these repairs.

The sun fractured around a big cloud, beaming down in random spots as she crossed the field and mounted the hill. Tucker sure was lucky to have this kind of land. All inherited, from what she gathered, and old money, if she was correct in judging the men who claimed to be his relations.

As her boyfriend, Tucker had never talked of his possessions or flaunted wealth. He didn’t take her for hundred dollar meals at Brisbee’s Steak and Sea Restaurant on the outskirts of Reedy. And he didn’t lavish her with jewelry. Even if she were this type of girl, Tucker wasn’t that guy. Also, they’d only been together two months.

He was a rough and tumble, sidle up to the bar at The Hellion, go out for a midnight drive kind of man. And that suited her just fine.

Had it also suited his lost fiancée, Heather?

An itch of jealousy slipped down her spine. It was so wrong to be jealous of that poor woman just because she had loved Tucker first. But it was impossible to keep the envy out of her heart for a woman who still held such power over him.

Claire dragged her feet to the top of the hill, purposely crushing the grasses so she could drink in the earthy scent. It invoked thoughts of her childhood, of lying back and gazing up at the stars. On one rare occasion, her father had been at her side. She’d pillowed her head on his arm and felt like the most loved child in the world.

About time for his monthly phone call.