A Match Made in Texas (6 page)

It was just another dark cloud in an already miserable day.

When Cora Lee continued to stand there, he glanced up. “Is there something else?”

She sent him a weak smile. “I just got a call from Miss Hattie’s Henhouse. It seems that Miss Minnie has just shot Elvis.”

Chapter Five

B
RI STARED IN HORROR AT THE MAN
stretched out on Miss Hattie’s front porch. She had fantasized about Elvis getting his just deserts for his part in her becoming a fugitive, but she hadn’t once considered murder.

“Whelp”—Olive stood over the man—“if Elvis wasn’t dead before, it looks like he’s dead now.” She glanced back at Minnie, who was still holding the smoking gun. “You want me to bury him under the lilac bushes or under that old chicken coop behind the barn?”

Minnie didn’t seem to be the least bit rattled that she had just shot a man in cold blood. She placed the derringer back in the side pocket of her wheelchair before pulling out a Dum-Dum sucker, carefully unwrapping it, and popping it between her wrinkled lips. After a few seconds, she finally spoke.

“He’s not dead. Not unless he died of a heart attack. The bullet I shot was a good two inches above his head.” She pulled out the lollipop and pointed it at Sunshine. “Check his pulse.”

Sunshine immediately squatted down and took the man’s wrist. After only a few seconds, she smiled an airy smile. “He only fainted.”

“Serves him right,” Minnie huffed, “comin’ here stickin’ his nose into hen business and tryin’ to sweet-talk me into givin’ him information. I’ve been sweet-talked by the best, and he’s not even close.” She glanced around. “Where’s Baby? Olive, go tell her to bring a bucket of cold water so we can get this slick-talkin’ riffraff out of here.”

Once Olive was gone, Bri stepped closer. He didn’t look so much like Elvis now. His big sunglasses had slipped off his bulbous nose, and his toupee rested behind his balding head like roadkill. Still, his presence made Bri nervous. Two chance meetings in only a few hours seemed like too much of a coincidence.

“Did anyone get his name?” she asked.

“He said it was Reverend Josiah Jessup,” Sunshine said. “Does that mean he’s a preacher, Min?”

“I would say so. It would explain the holier-than-thou attitude and stream of BS,” Minnie said. “What it doesn’t explain is what he’s doin’ out here.”

The reverend groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. They zeroed in on Bri with an intensity as piercing as Minnie’s before a bucketful of water hit him in the face.

“That should wake him up.” Olive tipped the last of the water out of the bucket.

Sputtering, the reverend sat straight up, his soaked toupee still partially attached to the back of his scalp. Suddenly, he wasn’t so bent on sweet-talking.

“Why, you daughter of Satan!” he yelled as he came to his feet. “How dare you try to douse the light of the Lord with your waters from hell. I was told that there was wickedness going on out here, and now that I have seen it with my own two eyes, I will not rest until I have crushed it beneath my heel of righteous—”

The click of a gun being cocked cut him off midsentence. Everyone turned to Minnie, who this time was pointing the gun straight at the reverend’s heart. “You want to see what heaven looks like, Rev? Because I’m about one second away from showin’ you.”

The man had enough sense to know when to shut up. Casting a narrow-eyed look at the women, he stumbled down the porch steps, trailing water behind him. He didn’t speak again until he was pulling away in his cherry-red Cadillac.

“You haven’t heard the last of Josiah Jessup!” he yelled. “Miss Hattie’s day of reckoning is at hand.”

A bullet hit the side mirror, sending glass flying and the reverend hot-tailing it out of the driveway in a spray of gravel.

Not knowing exactly how many bullets Minnie had left in the gun, Bri reached over and took it from her hand. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day, Miss Minnie—at least, I have.”

“Darn yammin’ fool,” Minnie grumbled. “And what ticks me off more than anything is his disgraceful use of the King’s image. For that alone, he should be pushing up daisies.”

Baby came hurrying out the door that Olive had left open.

“Is he dead?” she asked in her breathy voice.

“And just where the heck have you been?” Minnie asked.

Baby’s face turned a bright red, and she fidgeted for just a moment before she answered. “I had cookies in the oven.”

Minnie’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t call the woman out on the obvious lie. “Could you please bring a few into the library, along with some hot tea? I think I need a little refreshment after that sermon. Why don’t you join me, Bri?”

Somehow Bri didn’t think it was a request. “I’d love to,” she said as she followed the woman inside.

The library was cozy. Books lined the shelves, and an overstuffed leather couch sat in front of a stone fireplace. It was still too warm to start a fire, but numerous candles flickered from the mantel. Jiggers had staked out his territory on the Oriental rug in front of the fireplace, and when Bri sat down on the couch, he lifted his head and growled.

“Oh, stop being ornery.” Minnie tapped on her leg, and the cat popped up as if on a string and walked over so Minnie could scratch its big, matted head. After the cat was purring loudly, Minnie looked over at Bri.

“You and I have never had much of a chance to chat, have we? Not with your overprotective brothers keeping a close eye on you. I’m surprised they aren’t here with you now.”

Bri smoothed out the crease in her pants. “Billy’s on a Disney cruise with Shirlene and their two younger kids. And Beau is in Africa with Jenna. But I’m sure Brant and Elizabeth will be here shortly.”

Minnie studied her for a long, uncomfortable moment before she pulled the sucker from her mouth and tossed it at the trash can by the desk. It hit dead center.

“I’m not one to butt into other people’s business,” she said. “But I do have to wonder why a young, single woman would want to spend a vacation out in the middle of nowhere. Especially when most young women fresh out of college want to hang out in big cities and party their asses off.”

That was a pretty good description of what women Bri’s age wanted to do. Her sorority sisters had been the definition of Girls Gone Wild. And Bri might’ve joined in with their partying if she hadn’t been so worried about shattering the proper-Southern-girl image her family had bestowed on her at birth. Instead, she chose to sow her wild oats in other ways: Skydiving. Heli-skiing. Cliff jumping. Running from the law.

Obviously, she should’ve gone for the partying.

“I guess I’m not much of a partier,” she said.

Minnie snorted. “You sound just like my granddaughter, Elizabeth, before she got married to that rascally brother of yours.”

Bri had heard the rumors about Elizabeth. Supposedly, at one time, she had been a rather prudish librarian. But Bri only knew her as the kindhearted woman who had brought Brant out of his depression after he’d lost his first wife and their son.

“I take that as a compliment,” she said.

“It wasn’t meant as one.” Minnie stopped petting Jiggers. “Until Brant and us hens got ahold of her, Lizzie didn’t have a clue how to let loose and have fun and would’ve spent the rest of her born days as a lonely old maid.” She sat back in the chair and studied Bri with those intense eyes. “So why did your brothers exile you here?”

Bri could’ve lied, but what was the use? Her brothers loved Miss Minnie, and sooner or later, they’d bring her into their confidence.

“Someone posted a compromising picture of me on the Internet, and Brant thought it would be best if I hung out here until the media attention died down.”

“Compromising as in naked?”

Bri’s jaw tightened. “Partially.”

Minnie laughed. Not a tiny chuckle, but a boisterous bellow that rang off the high ceiling and caused Jiggers to jump up and head for the door, his L-shaped tail swinging.

“No, I guess you’re not like Elizabeth,” Minnie hooted. “Here your brothers are thinkin’ you’re this sweet innocent that needs to be shielded from the evils of Miss Hattie’s and the hens, and you’re off gettin’ naked pictures taken.”

Something ugly rose up in Bri. She had been taunted by Elvis. Bullied by a sheriff. And now this old woman was making fun of her. Enough was enough. Her calm façade crumbled as she jumped to her feet.

“I am sweet!” She waved her hand around, not even aware that she still held the gun. “One mistake doesn’t change the fact that I’m a loving daughter, an excellent hostess, a proficient flutist, and a really good scrap booker!”

Minnie stopped laughing as suddenly as she had started. “You’re right. One mistake doesn’t change who you are, Brianne Cates. So why are you letting Brant bully you into hiding out here?”

“He didn’t bully me.”

“I don’t know what you’d call the list of dos and don’ts he gave you on the phone.”

Bri’s eyes widened. “You listened in on our conversation?”

“Overheard. And I make it my business to know what’s going on in the Henhouse. Especially with my hens.”

“I am not a hen!”

“That might’ve been true before.” Minnie smiled. “But after assessing the situation, I’ve decided that you are now. If anyone needs a little ‘hen power,’ it’s you, Brianne Cates. And the first thing we need to do is get you away from all those controlling males in your family and give you some space to find yourself. Although I don’t see how that’s going to happen if Brant is coming out here.” She tapped the arm of her wheelchair with one nail. “Still, there must be some way we can stall—”

There was a click followed by a deep voice that made Bri’s blood run cold.

“Drop the weapon.”

Bri whirled around, but she only got a flash of mirrored lens before she was tackled to the ground and the gun pulled from her hand. Once again, she found herself facedown. This time, Sheriff Hicks straddled her from behind, his muscular thighs pinning her to the carpet.

“Let me go,” she fumed.

“Not a chance in hell.” He pulled her hands behind her and clicked cuffs around her wrists. And damned if the hot tingle didn’t return.

“I’ve never minded a little roughhousing,” Minnie finally spoke up. “But only when both parties are consenting. And Brianne doesn’t look real happy, Sheriff Hicks. So I think you better let her up. Especially since the gun she was waving around wasn’t even loaded.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Sheriff Hicks pulled Bri to her feet as if she didn’t weigh more than a ragdoll. “This woman’s a fugitive from the law, and I plan to take her in.”

“No kiddin’? Brianne, you continue to surprise me.” Minnie’s lips curved up in a smile, but it faded when she looked back at Dusty. “So I guess you have a warrant, Sheriff.”

Sheriff Hicks kept a tight grip on Bri’s arm. “Are you saying I need one, Miz Minnie?”

Minnie wheeled over to the desk. “Why don’t you sit down, Sheriff, so we can talk about this? Fugitive or not, I doubt that Brianne can go anywhere trussed up like Sunday dinner.”

Sheriff Hicks hesitated for only a second before pulling Bri along with him to the two chairs in front of the desk. He pushed her down into one, while he remained standing, arms crossed and mirrored sunglasses aimed at Minnie.

“This woman ran me off the road while driving recklessly down the wrong side of the highway,” he said. “She then resisted arrest—not once, but twice. Then I get a report of a man being shot, and I arrive here to find her wielding a gun. Now if that’s not enough to toss her butt in jail, I don’t know what is.”

Minnie’s eyebrows disappeared beneath the fringe of blond curls. “Well, that certainly seems like enough to me.” She pulled out a sucker from her side pocket. “Dum-Dum?” Sheriff Hicks shook his head, and instead of unwrapping the sucker for herself, she rolled the stick between her fingers. “So how long do you plan on keepin’ our little Brianne?”

“Just until the judge can sentence her and she reimburses the town for the damage to my vehicle.”

Minnie snorted. “Seein’ as how Judge Seeley would rather hunt or fish than do his job, that could take a while.”

The sheriff’s shoulders tightened beneath the wrinkled material of his uniform. “I have nothing but time, Miz Minnie.”

Minnie relaxed back in her wheelchair, her sharp eyes moving to Bri and then to the sheriff. “You still living out at that ranch all by yourself, Sheriff?”

The sheriff seemed to be as confused by the quick subject change as Bri. He shifted his weight and answered hesitantly. “That’s the way I like it.”

“Of course it is.” Minnie smiled brightly. “What man doesn’t love peaceful solitude?” She stopped twirling the sucker and looked at Bri. “Or what woman, for that matter.” Her eyes narrowed in thought for only a second before she nodded. “I’ve decided to let you take Brianne.”

Up until that point, Bri had kept her mouth shut, assuming that if the head hen could handle her brothers, she could handle one annoying sheriff. Obviously, Bri had been wrong. She struggled to her feet, which wasn’t easy with her hands cuffed behind her back.

“You can’t let him take me! I can’t go to jail. Think about what this will do to my family—your family.”