Branded for You (19 page)

While they’d been camping, he’d said he thought he was falling for her. Did he still feel that way? Everything he’d done and said made her feel as though that hadn’t changed. She’d certainly fallen for him and hard. He was a good man and she was blessed to have him in her life.

Should she have told him how she felt? No, not yet. She’d wait until the time was right.

She moved away from the column to the front door. She grasped the doorknob, let herself into her parents’ home, and closed the door behind her.

“You ungrateful child.” Margaret’s shriek jerked Megan from her thoughts of Ryan.

Margaret was standing by the window, the curtain pulled partly back. She’d seen the kiss.

Heat flooded through Megan as she tried to talk over her mother’s screaming. “Mom, let me explain—”

“How could you?” Margaret yelled. “After what that man did to our family, to your father. He killed your father!”

“Mom.” Megan put strength behind her words. “Calm down. There are some things we need to discuss.”

Margaret moved toward Megan. “There’s nothing you can say that will excuse what you have done.” Margaret’s hand flew up and she slapped Megan.

With shock, Megan stared at her mother. She brought her fingers to her stinging cheek, unable to believe her mother had just slapped her.

Margaret raised her hand again, but Megan grabbed her mother’s wrist. Margaret tried to jerk away, but Megan held on.

Anger rose in Megan but she maintained her calm. Margaret’s husband had just died and she blamed it on Ryan. But her mother had no right to treat Megan that way, no matter what she was going through.

“Sit down, Mom.” Steel was in Megan’s voice. So many times she hadn’t defended herself just to avoid making waves. Not anymore. “It’s time you listened to me.”

“I’ll do nothing of the kind.” Margaret snarled the words.

“Sit.” Megan pointed to the couch beside Margaret. “I need to tell you what Dad said to me before he died.”

It was as if Margaret’s legs gave out on her and she sat on the edge of the couch. “What did your father say?”

“Among other things, Dad said that my judgment is sound and that I need to trust it.” Megan took a step closer to where her mother was sitting. “In my judgment, Ryan McBride is a good man. Over the time that I’ve known him, I’ve seen the person that he is and I like what I see.”

Megan went on, “I’ve seen how much people like him, from children to adults, and how much he cares. I’ve seen how kind he is, giving money to a mother who has cancer and her son. He is a good man, Mom.”

“How can you say that?” Margaret curled her hands into fists on her lap. “He killed your father.”

“No, he didn’t.” Megan put her hands on her hips. “Ryan was the messenger. He doesn’t even own the house. He was helping his uncle.”

Margaret opened her mouth as if to say something else.

“I’m not finished.” Megan held up her hand. “Ryan tried to be the go-between to work things out, but Dad wouldn’t even hear him out. Ryan gave Dad suggestions and attempted to make it work between you two and his uncle.”

Margaret narrowed her gaze. “What suggestions?”

Megan went through the ideas that Ryan had proposed. “Selling the house is probably the best solution for all parties,” Megan added. “It would be enough to pay off the balloon payment and give you back the money you invested. You would be able to buy another house that cost less.”

“But this is where your father and I lived together.” Margaret’s lips started to tremble and then her face seemed to crumple. She buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook and sobs wracked her body.

Megan’s gut twisted as she sat beside her mother and put an arm around her shoulders. She stroked her mother’s hair as she cried.

Margaret raised her head, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know what to do. I lost your father… I’m losing this house… the restaurant is going.” She looked so sad that Megan’s heart ached. “My whole world is collapsing,” Margaret sobbed.

Megan hugged her mother tighter, trying to think of the right words to say. “We’ll think of something, Mom. It will work out.”

Margaret looked through her tears at her fisted hands in her lap. She slowly relaxed them so that they weren’t clenched anymore. She met Megan’s eyes. “I’m sorry I slapped you. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Mom. You’re having a hard time with Dad’s passing and it’s only been two days since the funeral, and everything else,” Megan said. “I understand that.”

Margaret hugged Megan, holding on to her like a lifeline.

Chapter 21

Ryan drove along the street, his thoughts filled with Megan. She was a special woman and after finding her, he didn’t intend to let her go.

It was poker night in the back room of the Highlander bar and Ryan’s cousin, Jack Parks, had invited Ryan to sit in on the game in the past. Maybe they had an extra chair at the table tonight.

As he drove, he dialed his cousin’s number from the phone’s address book and waited for him to pick up.

“How’s it going?” Jack answered.

“It’s getting better.” Ryan put on his turn signal as he came up to a corner. “Are you playing poker at the Highlander tonight?”

“As long as Carrie doesn’t keep me home I’ll be leaving soon,” Jack said. “Why, you want to join us tonight?”

“I’m in town.” Ryan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Thought I’d stop at the Highlander and have a beer, and remembered it’s poker night.”

“George Johnson hasn’t been showing up lately,” Jack said. “I think there’ll be room for one more.”

“I’ll be there.” Ryan disconnected the call and headed for the bar.

The Highlander was a down and dirty bar in the older part of Prescott. Ryan parked a few spaces down from the bar then headed inside.

Inside, the air was thick with smoke and a little hazy. The crack of billiards came from two tables in the corner along with the whump of darts hitting the target on his left. On his right was a mechanical bull. Ryan’s brother Creed, a world champion bull rider, was one of the few who could take the metal beast at its highest setting.

The bar proudly sported a couple of autographed pictures of Creed, their hometown hero, on one of his most famous rides. The framed pictures in black and white hung on the wall by the bull. Pictures of other popular rodeo performers also covered the walls in the same area. Creed was a modest and good-natured cowboy who took fame in stride.

Ryan went up to the bar and ordered a Rolling Rock.

A couple of Ryan’s old buddies were shooting pool so he dropped cash on the bar, grabbed his beer, and sauntered over to where they were playing. Duke Carter and Joel Ellison greeted him with slaps to the back and invited him to find a partner and play doubles, but Ryan declined.

They shot the bull for a while before Ryan spotted Jack coming in through the front entrance of the bar. He told Duke and Joel he’d see them around and then headed over to Jack.

“Damn but I could use a beer,” Jack said as they reached the bar.

“Let me buy you a cold one.” Ryan set his empty on the polished wood surface. “Tough day at work?”

Jack gave a wry smile. “Something like that.”

Ryan ordered another Rolling Rock and Jack asked for a Bud. After Ryan paid for their beers, he followed Jack through a doorway in the back and into a dark-paneled hallway. To the right was the kitchen and in the opposite direction was a back room. They headed down the hallway toward it.

The moment Jack opened the door the smell of cigar smoke met Ryan. A wood-bladed fan turned lazily overhead, stirring the smoke and offering a brush of cool air. The room was also paneled in dark wood and the old wood furniture was scuffed and scarred. A large round table was at the center of the room, a smaller table stood to the side with poker chips piled on it along with a box to hold the cash the players used to buy chips.

Inside the room, four men stood or sat at the round table, two of them puffing on cigars, all of them with drinks in their hands. Poker chips were piled in front of each man. Ryan recognized two of the men, including Roger Meyer, who was standing.

“Gentlemen, if you don’t already know him, this is Ryan McBride.” Jack jerked his thumb toward Ryan. “If we’ve got an extra seat at the table, Ryan here would like to join in on the fun. George hasn’t been able to make it for a while, so I thought I’d bring in another sap to lose some money at our table.”

The men chuckled and Ryan laughed good-naturedly. Roger Meyer clapped his hand on the shoulder of the dark-haired man that he was standing behind. “This here is Julian Taylor who’s also new and here to lose his shirt to me.”

Jack went around the table introducing everyone else for the benefit of both Taylor and Ryan—Henry Rodriguez, Roger Meyer, and David Danbury. Danbury mentioned that he was a reporter for the Prescott Review. Taylor didn’t volunteer any information, seeming to keep to himself and being fairly quiet.

“Even if George makes it, we’ll have room for McBride.” Meyer indicated the chair next to him. “I could use a little extra cash tonight.” He looked friendly enough, but there was an edge to him that Ryan didn’t trust.

Ryan took the seat beside Meyer who gripped a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

“What are you drinking?” Ryan gestured to Meyer’s drink.

Meyer raised the glass. “Whiskey, straight.”

Rodriguez took Ryan’s cash and pushed stacks of poker chips in front of him.

Sophie, a dark-haired waitress in a low-cut white blouse and tiny black skirt entered the room. Ryan ordered a whiskey on the rocks. Roger ordered a bottle of Jack Daniels.

He didn’t know Meyer well, but had heard things about the man over the years. He was considered a ladies’ man yet there were rumors that he treated his women poorly. Ryan had been told of business dealings with him that had gone south and Meyer had the reputation of being a tough S.O.B to work with.

When the waitress returned, Jack was just pulling his chair up to the table and Rodriguez was shuffling the deck. Sophie set the bottle of whiskey in front of Meyer before giving Ryan his drink. She leaned over so that he got a clear view of her cleavage. Ryan started a tab and when he ignored her show of breasts, she pouted and left the room.

Ryan picked up his glass of whiskey and watched as Meyer filled his own glass from the bottle. Meyer asked if anyone else was up for some whiskey. Danbury and Rodriguez accepted the offer and Ryan said he’d take a hit once he’d finished his drink. Jack and Julian declined. Jack couldn’t risk going home stinking drunk because Carrie would kill him, so he stuck with a max of four beers a night. Jack did accept a cigar from Rodriguez.

When Rodriguez finished dealing, Ryan picked up his cards and studied them. He had a good hand to start with and he matched Meyer’s bids. Ryan called and Meyer had three of a kind, which beat Ryan’s two pair.

As they played, Meyer kept filling his own glass and kept topping off Ryan’s. Ryan nursed his drink slowly because he didn’t plan on drinking much. He’d be driving home tonight and he wasn’t about to drive drunk. However, Meyer didn’t have the same reservations and it wasn’t long before the man really loosened up.

Ryan asked Meyer about the man’s restaurant, the Chuck Wagon. Meyer loved to talk about his place and claimed that it was one of the best steakhouses in the west.

“A new restaurant is next to your place.” Ryan said between hands.

“That shithole?” Meyer gave a laugh. “You wouldn’t want to go there.”

Ryan felt a little heat at his collar. He took a swig of his whiskey then set the glass down. “I heard you wanted to expand your restaurant into that place but the Dysons outbid you on the deal.”

The man’s face darkened. “And I’m making sure they regret it.”

Ryan gave a conspiratorial laugh as he tried to stay relaxed while he poured Meyer more whiskey. “How are you managing that?”

Meyer grinned and slurred, “I have my ways.”

“Sounds like you’re making sure they don’t get away with taking property that was rightfully yours,” Ryan said. If the man was out to hurt the Dysons, Ryan wanted to know about it. “Think you can get the place if they end up being shut down?”

“That’s the plan.” Meyer knocked back the rest of his whiskey. He slammed the glass down on the table and seemed to wobble in his seat. “A few complaints lodged with the Health Department, reports on employing illegal immigrants, some bad reviews—won’t be long now. Maybe a few people will get sick there.”

Meyer elbowed his cousin, the reporter, David Danbury. “I think it’s time for another review in a few days.”

Danbury grinned. “Whenever you want it, just let me know.”

Meyer slapped him on the back. “Place is closed temporarily because the old man kicked it. When they try to open it again, we’ll let ’em have it and sink their ship. This time we’ll really make it count.”

“Are you talking about reviews?” Ryan asked, barely reining in his anger.

Meyer snorted. “Reviews will only go so far. I’ve got something else in mind. I’m not done yet and I won’t be done until I take over that location.”

The man leaned back in his chair and continued, “I’ll expand and that side will be a bar and I’ll leave the restaurant as is. I’ll have nightly entertainment, dancing, and a fully stocked bar that’ll be a hell of a lot better than this dump. Might even move our weekly poker game over there.”

Ryan nodded, smiling, when what he wanted to do was kick the sonofabitch’s ass. But for now he needed to get any info he could out of Meyer and he wasn’t going to do it with the man at the end of Ryan’s boot.

Jack started dealing and they returned to the game. Ryan won a few hands but lost more than he won, but considering these guys had been playing together for some time, he didn’t think he was doing too badly.

In between hands, Ryan tried to strike up a conversation with Meyer again, but the man had moved on to other subjects to rant about and Ryan didn’t want his questions to come off as suspicious if he pressed on about the café.

So the bastard had plans once the café was re-opened. Somehow Ryan needed to head it off. But what the hell could he do if he didn’t even know what the man was up to?