12 Borrowing Trouble

BORROWING

TROUBLE

Becky McGraw

Acknowledgements

Thank you to my friend, the amazing and talented photographer Ariya Xie of Xie4to for the shot of Patrick, which was used on the cover of Borrowing Trouble, and also for the second shot which I used to promote my new series, The Cowboy Way.   

You can find other outstanding and award-winning photos by Xie4to on his Facebook page at
http://www.facebook.com/xie4to
.

I’d also like to thank my husband of thirty-t
hree years, and my amazing kids for being my biggest cheerleaders.  I couldn’t have had the success I’ve had without your support.  I love you all.  Lastly, thank so much to Carolyn for being my troublemaking friend and sounding board.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

BORROWING TROUBLE, Copyright © May, 2014
by Becky McGraw. 

ISBN:
9781310347054

All rights reserved under International and Pan American Copyright Conventions.  By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen.  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the author.

Be sure to check out all of the books in the

Texas
Trouble Series by Becky McGraw
:

Book #1 -
My Kind of Trouble (Cassie & Luke)

Book #2 -
The Trouble With Love (Sabrina & Cole)

Book #3 -
Double the Trouble (Karlie & Gabe)

Book #4 -
Looking for Trouble (Jess & Wade)

Book #5 -
Trouble in Dixie (Katie & Tommy)

Book #6 -
Asking for Trouble (Jazzie & Beau)

Book #7 -
Chasing Trouble (Jenny & Chase)

Book #8 -
Here Comes Trouble (Terri & Joel)

Book #
9 -
Worth the Trouble (Roxanne & Ethan)

Book #10 -
Royal Trouble (Leigh Ann & Wes)

Book #11 -
Trouble With the Law (Veronica & Trace)

New Series  - The Cowboy Way

Hope for Christmas
(Cord’s Story – novella included in
Santa Wore Spurs
)

Just Shoot Me (#1, Cowboy Way, Dean’s story)

Coming  Soon – COWGIRL CRAZY (#2, Cowboy Way, Ryan’s Story)

CHAPTER ONE

The throaty rumble of a powerful engine reached Carrie Collins inside the barn and her eyebrows knotted.   She laid the saddle blanket back on the shelf and dusted her hands on her jeans as she walked to the door.  Shielding her eyes, she looked down the road to see who was paying them a visit.   Maybe it was one of her mother’s friends from church, she thought, but then a slick black motorcycle emerged from the trees onto the gravel drive leading up to the house and she realized she was very wrong.  Neither rider wore a helmet, both wore bandanas instead.  One rider was in black leather and the other in white. 

Concern shot through her, and
Carrie considered going back inside to get the shotgun her daddy kept in the office, just in case, but the kids and her daddy were in the house.  He could see her from there and she knew he must hear the loud engine too.  She walked out of the barn to stand under the tree to wait for whoever it was to make it to the barn. 

The bike stopped, and the driver put down the kick stand.  He leaned down to fiddle with something at the side of the bike and she noticed the pattern on his bandana said
Groom of Doom
interspersed with hearts over crossed bones.  Cute,  but definitely not bad ass, she thought, feeling a little better about her mysterious visitors. 

A man wouldn’t wear a bandana like that if he was a bad guy, would he?

From the curves the white leather suit hugged, it was obvious his passenger was a woman.  She swung her long leg over the back of the bike and stood.  Carrie squinted and made out the wording on her white bandana, which said
Bitchin’ Bride
.  The man on the front of the bike looked back up, and his sunglasses were gone. 

Recognition hit her between the eyes and
Carrie gasped.  “Trace…”

Hi
s jaw tightened, accentuating the scar on his left cheek, which he had to have gotten in prison.  Trace Rooks was still handsome as sin, but he looked rougher, tougher and much harder than he had when she saw him last in court.  When they convicted him of killing her husband, Sean.  Heat shot up her throat and gathered as pressure behind her eyes.  Trace hadn’t killed Sean, she reminded herself, shoving the old bitterness she’d lived with for three years away.  Sean’s other best friend, Seth Copeland, had not only killed Sean, he had set Trace up for the crime. 

Seth was in jail now, and Trace was free.   But it was obvious from the look in his
haunted eyes that Trace wasn’t free at all.  Not any freer than she was.

The woman
with him glanced at Trace, before quickly walking over to Carrie to extend her hand.  “I’m Ronnie Win—“ she started, then a fleeting smile curved her red lips.  She glanced back at Trace again, then corrected, “Ronnie Rooks.”

“That’ll take some getting used to,” Trace said with a laugh as he got off the bike and walked over to drape an arm around Ronnie’s shoulders.  “Ronnie and I got married in Vegas.”

Married?  Trace Rooks?  The man her husband said was a world-class player who would probably never get married was married to none other than the Shark Lady?  It made absolutely no sense.  Ronnie Winters had represented him during his trial, and she recommended the plea deal that sent him to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.  At the time, Carrie thought the slick attorney was brilliant, that she was pulling some legal trick to get him off scot free.  To Carrie, the three year sentence the judge handed down was pretty damned close to getting him off scot free, but evidently Trace thought otherwise.  On his way out of the courtroom he had threatened to strangle this woman. 

And now they were married.
Unbelievable. 

Her eyes locked with the woman beside Trace and Ronnie Rooks
’ full red lips curved to spotlight her perfect white teeth.  Carrie ran her hand over her own hair, which she’d done nothing to except pull back in a haphazard ponytail that morning.  She hadn’t worn makeup since Sean died three years ago, so she knew she must look a mess in comparison to the striking woman.  “Wow,” was all Carrie could push past her frozen vocal chords.

Trace
hugged Ronnie to his side.  “The honeymoon is over and Ronnie has an election to win,” Trace informed with a surprising smile for the beautiful redhead. “But I wanted to stop by to check on you and the kids.  I’ve uh, been meaning to do that for a while.”

What
Carrie wanted was to get Trace Rooks out of there.  His stopping by, or worrying about her at all, was astonishing to her.  Now that he had been exonerated, she was embarrassed at the nasty things she’d said to him at the courthouse as they led him off to jail.  Those words should have assured she would never see him again. 

But
here he was.  Typical Trace.  He never knew when to leave well enough alone.  Even though he’d been a player, he was a good man.  It was the reason he had been Sean’s best friend.  When someone needed help, Trace was always there.  He was the one who should be wearing the white leather suit. 

Well,
Carrie didn’t want his chivalry or his concern. She’d been doing just fine on her own for three years now.  Seeing him just reminded her of Sean, dredged up old memories she had been trying to bury since her husband died.  The kids would feel the same.  Chris and Izzy had enough problems right now, and so did she.

Carrie sucked in a breath and forced a smile. 
“Oh, that’s sweet, Trace, but I’m fine—”

His eyes narrowed. 
“It’s obvious you’re not fine, Carrie,” he grated.  “Seth might be an asshole, but he didn’t lie about what was going on with you.  You moved out here because the kids were out of control, and you lost your house.  I want to help you, if you’ll let me.”  Trace’s eyes fell to her left hand, and Carrie hid it behind her back.  “It’s been three years since Sean died, and you’re still wearing your wedding ring?” he asked incredulously.

Because in her mind she was still married to him. The man she
had dated in high school then married when she was eighteen had been the love of her life.  Yeah, they’d had their problems, but Carrie knew Sean would always be there for her.  Unless he was working, which he did most of their married life.  Or he did something stupid.  Like get himself killed. 

Anger and grief warred inside of her and
Carrie spun the ring around her finger with her thumb.  Trace Rooks of all people knew how much she loved Sean, how much he had meant to her.  He had been Sean’s best friend and the best man at their wedding.  Him questioning her about still wearing her ring, like she didn’t have a right to, pissed her off.  She didn’t owe him or anyone else any explanations about how she handled her grief. 

“I don’t want any help,” Carrie said firmly. 

His arm fell from around Ronnie’s shoulder, and his hands clenched into fists at his side.  “Well that’s too damned bad, you’re getting it,” he said taking a step toward her.  It’s the summer, so the kids are out of school right?”

Carrie’s neck rocked back on her shoulders
to meet his eyes.  What the hell did that matter?  “Yeah, they’re out of school.  Why?”

“
You ever hear of the R & R Ranch?” Trace asked.

Ranch?  That place was a spa for rich people who were looking for adventure.  Not somewhere she would ever visit in this lifetime.  “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“The owner is a friend of Ronnie’s and we’ve made arrangements for you to go there for a week.  You need a damned break.  Ronnie and I will keep Chris and Izzy for the week,” he said.  The woman beside him gasped, and Trace glared down at her, before looking back at Carrie.  “I want to see them anyway.”

Before Sean’s death
, Trace had been a fixture in her kids’ lives.  She had tried to shield them from the ugliness of the murder trial, because they considered him an uncle, but Chris knew.   She couldn’t keep him away from the television when the trial was going on.  The more he watched behind her back, the angrier and more withdrawn he became.  Carrie hadn’t had a chance to talk to her son since Trace had been cleared.  “Um, that’s probably not a good idea.”

“Why the hell not?  I want to talk to
them.”

Carrie didn’t miss the hurt in
Trace’s tone.  He loved her kids as much as Sean had, but they didn’t feel the same now.  Because Carrie hadn’t had time to talk to them.  “Chris doesn’t know you’ve been cleared,” she admitted looking away.

His jaw tightened again. 
“Why haven’t you told him?”

Carrie heard the unmistakable sound of a pump shotgun being racked and spun toward the barn door.  Her tall, lanky thirteen-year-old son stood there with
her father’s shotgun to his shoulder, eyeing down the sight at Trace. 

“Get out of here
, murderer,” he growled trying to sound fierce, but his voice trembled.

Fear shot to her throat. 
Carrie swallowed it down and tried to force calm into her tone, “Chris, put the shotgun down.”

It was true. 
Chris was out of control, but she had no idea how to help him.  Counselors hadn’t worked, suspension from school for smoking pot hadn’t worked, grounding for the summer hadn’t worked.  Moving away from the nasty group of friends he’d been hanging out with at the old house hadn’t worked.  Carrie was afraid he was going to end up dead or in jail if she didn’t do something.  She just didn’t know what to do.  He needed a man in his life, a good man other than her father who was just too old to deal with teenagers any more.

Trace stepped forward and spread his arms.  “Shoot me,” he invited and Ronnie and Carrie gasped at the same time.  “If it will make you feel better and you think it will bring your daddy back, just do it, kid.
  I loved him too, and I love you.”

Carrie thought Trace must’ve lost his mind.  The gun shook in Chris’s hand, and she thought he might accidentally
shoot him.  Trace was even bolder though, he showed no fear as he took a step around her, then another toward Chris.  Carrie saw Chris’s eyes fill, but his grip on the gun got tighter.  His finger moved into the well of the trigger.

“I love you, Chris.  I want to help you,” Trace said taking another step toward him.  “I didn’t kill your daddy.”

“They sent you to jail.  You killed him!” Chris said in a higher voice.

“Seth Copeland killed him,” Trace countered taking another step toward him.  “Ask your
mother,” he said gruffly, shooting a glare over his shoulder at Carrie.

“It’s true, honey,” Carrie said with a waver in her voice.  “He’s in jail, and Uncle Trace has been cleared.  It was all a mistake.”
 

Chris swung his eyes toward her, then back to Trace. The barrel of the gun lowered a few inches, and his shoulders relaxed a little.  Carrie’s did too
, but Izzy picked that moment to run around the side of the barn yelling her brother’s name.  Chris tensed again and swung the gun in Izzy’s direction.  Carrie screamed, Ronnie gasped, and as if in slow motion, Trace shot forward to tackle him around the waist.  The gun exploded and Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, because she just couldn’t look.  Her ears rang as the sound reverberated through the trees, and she prayed that she hadn’t just lost her daughter too. 

Weak, she sank to her knees and held her head in her hands.  Her stomach seesawed, and she wrapped an arm around her waist trying to find her breath.
  Tears gathered in her eyes then overflowed to track hotly down her face.  An arm dropped over her shoulders. 

“Mommy, I’m fine,” Izzy said with tears in her voice.   “Please don’t cry anymore.”

Relief swamped her and Carrie cried harder.  She sucked in a shuddering breath, and her whole body vibrated as she forced her eyes open and pulled Izzy into her arms to hug her tightly. 

“Oh, baby,” she whispered
around the knot of fear in her throat, dropping kisses on the top of her daughter’s blonde head.

“I’m sorry, M
om,” Chris mumbled. 

Anger shot through her, and Carrie’s eyes darted to Chris, who was standing beside Trace scuffing his toe in the dirt.  One of
Trace’s hands clamped tightly on her son’s shoulder, and the other held the shotgun. 

“I don’t
ever
want to see you with a gun in your hand again,” Carrie bit out.  “You almost killed your sister.  Sorry wouldn’t have fixed that, son.”  Chris’s lower lip wobbled, which told her he was as upset as she was about the close call.  Good, he needed to realize how tragically things could’ve ended with his stupid move.  The next time he—they—might not be so lucky.

Trace squeezed Chris’s shoulder tighter. 
“Well, he’s going to have a gun in his hand again.  But the next time he does, he’s going to respect it, and know how to use it.  I’m going to make sure of it,” Trace said firmly.  His eyes met hers.  “You’re going to the R & R for at least a week, and the kids are staying with us.”

“But—“ Carrie started, but Trace let go of Chris’s shoulder to hold up a hand.

“No buts, Carrie.  You need this and frankly so do they.  A little distance will do both of you some good.”  Trace looked down into Chris’s eyes.  “And Chris and I have a lot to talk about.”

***

Dylan
Thomas was bored out of his skull.  He’d been at the R & R Ranch for over a year and a half now and his feet were getting itchy to hit the road again.  He was fully recovered from the injury that could have ended his career, so why the hell hadn’t he left in early spring to hit the circuit again?  Because they were short-handed here and he didn’t want to leave Terri and Joel in the lurch.  They had been good to him.