Catch Me a Cowboy (26 page)

Billy glanced over toward the window and at the bright sunlight that streamed through the sheet. The lateness of the hour should’ve surprised him, but since he hadn’t gotten to sleep until well after two, it wasn’t that shocking.

“So any luck finding the body?” Brant asked.

Billy propped the pillows behind his back. “No. Granddaddy wasn’t buried in the Bramble cemetery or any cemetery within a hundred and fifty miles. But I’m not going to give up. There are a few more history books I want to read through, and I have an appointment with another historian when I travel to Lubbock for the Plains Gas meetings.”

“Billy the Tenacious,” Brant said. “But I think you’re spinning your wheels this time, little brother. It’s doubtful that the people of Bramble even buried our granddaddy. His body was probably tossed out in the mesquite somewhere to be picked apart by vultures.”

Billy had thought about that—he just refused to believe it. Which probably would be described as stubbornness more than tenacity.

“Has Beau found anything of interest in Dalton’s house?” Brant asked. “Lyle had relatives who lived in Bramble at the time, didn’t he?”

“Yes. But Beau hasn’t found anything, and I don’t think he will.” Billy paused. “Which is why I’m giving the house back.”

“Excuse me,” Brant said. “Have you lost your mind? The woman owes us a million dollars.” He hesitated before he continued. “Of course, you’re probably right. We’ll end up losing money anyway. With Dalton closing in less than a month, Bramble will be a ghost town within a year.”

“What?” Billy sat up so quickly he got a head rush. “I thought we’d talked about waiting until the beginning of the year to close Dalton Oil.”

“We did, but the company is losing more than I thought, and I don’t see any reason to keep it afloat. Besides, without jobs, it shouldn’t take people long to clear out. Then we can tear down that town hall and give Daddy our granddaddy’s plaque for Christmas.” It was something Billy and Brant had dreamed about doing for a long time. But vengeance was a funny thing. Once you had it in your sights, it lost most of its appeal. Or maybe what had lost its appeal was screwing over a town filled with people Billy had grown fond of.

“We aren’t Christmas shopping at a mall, Brant. These are people’s lives we’ll be destroying—and for what, a stupid plaque?”

There was a pause before his brother spoke. “This isn’t just about a plaque, Billy. It’s about a curse. A curse the Cateses have carried around for decades. But maybe you’re right. Maybe we should wait for something to happen to Beckett? Or, God forbid, our little Brie?” Just the thought of something bad happening to his two youngest siblings had Billy’s stomach knotting.

“Besides, we aren’t doing anything to the town that wasn’t going to happen eventually. No matter who had bought out Dalton, they weren’t going to make it solvent. We’re just jerking the Band-aid off quickly.”

“For the town’s sake, Brant, or our own?” Billy asked.

“Both,” Brant said. “Where did this sudden change of heart come from?” When Billy didn’t say anything, Brant’s voice softened. “I realize you’ve made some friends in the town, and I don’t intend to leave people without a way to support their families. I promise we’ll find them openings at C-Corp—just not in Bramble.” He paused. “Or does this have more to do with Lyle Dalton’s wife?”

Lyle Dalton’s wife. Those words placed together made Billy want to hit something. Which was crazy. But Billy had felt more than a little crazy lately. All because of a fiery-haired woman with eyes the color of a summer meadow. A woman who had shattered all his perceptions about her, and in the process, left him doubting who he was and what he wanted.

“I just don’t think we should run off half-cocked, is all,” Billy said. “All I need is a little more time to find our
granddaddy’s grave, Brant. I’m telling you that’s the key to the curse—not leveling an entire town.”

“But why take a chance, little brother? The Cates family’s paid long enough, don’t you think?”

The phone clicked dead, and Billy stared at it for a few moments before allowing it to drop down to the mattress. He wanted to be mad at Brant, but he couldn’t be mad at a man who had lost so much. Brant wasn’t a bad person. He was just a person who wanted something or someone to blame for the loss of his family. And Billy couldn’t hold that against him, especially when he’d been the one to give his brother an outlet for all his rage and anger. The one who came to Bramble, Texas, looking for his own outlet for the pain. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Instead of waiting around for the next horrific thing to happen, he’d felt as if he was doing something to stop the string of bad luck. Now he wondered if maybe all their bad fortune had nothing to do with a curse and everything to do with fate.

Maybe the Cates family was just too stubborn to accept it.

But it was too late to change the course of events he’d put into play. Dalton Oil would fail, and Bramble would become a ghost town. Not even Colt Lomax’s company, Desperado Customs, would change that. And Brant was right. It wasn’t like they had caused Dalton Oil to fail—but they hadn’t done anything to stop it.

He reached for the phone. He might not be able to help Bramble, but he did have the means to correct another injustice. The phone only rang twice before it was answered. Although it wasn’t exactly the voice Billy had expected to hear.

“Mine!” The gruff voice that came through the
receiver almost broke Billy’s eardrum. He really needed to see about getting the kid a speech pathologist. A three-year-old should have a bigger vocabulary than just one word. And while they were at it, maybe they could bring the kid’s octave up a few notches and teach him to play with gender-correct toys.

Before Billy could say anything, Shirlene’s faint voice came through the receiver. “Can I see that for a second, honey? Just for a second, and then you can have it back.” Brody must’ve conceded the phone because it wasn’t long before Shirlene’s voice came on, loud and clear.

“Okay, I get it. My credit is going to be ruined if I don’t pay my bill—except I hate to tell you this, honey, but my credit is already in the crapper so it really won’t make a difference. But I promise, as soon as I hit a windfall, you’ll be the first bill I pay—well, after the Visa bill and Mastercard, seein’ as how they hassled me first.”

Billy couldn’t help but smile. Not because Shirlene was in such financial straits, but because the woman could keep such an optimistic outlook even when things weren’t going her way. Not her husband’s death, or eviction, or four orphans, or numerous bill collectors could keep Shirlene Dalton down.

Bad luck wasn’t a curse to Shirlene, just a mere inconvenience.

Billy smiled as he slipped into the voice he used for all his business meetings, deep and professional with very little twang. “Good mornin’, Ms. Dalton.”

She released her breath in an exasperated sigh. “Oh, it’s you. Run out of little puppies to drown, Mr. Cates?”

“Actually, I was just headed to the pound to get some more.”

“I’d laugh, if I didn’t believe you,” she said. Her words were followed by Adeline’s baby gibberish, and Billy figured she must be holding the baby. Obviously, the other night hadn’t completely soured Shirlene on the little girl.

“But I’m not calling to talk about what I do for entertainment,” he said. “I’m calling to tell you that I’ve decided to give your house back.”

There was a long pause before she spoke. “Suffering a bit of guilt, are you, honey?”

“I guess you could say that,” he answered truthfully. Although it hadn’t been a bit of guilt—more like an entire avalanche. Mr. Peabody had called him yesterday to say Shirlene was flat broke. Broke enough that she had to sell her diamond ring to the highest bidder just to buy groceries for a bunch of orphans. And if that wasn’t enough to make Billy feel like the biggest heel in Texas, he didn’t know what was.

“Well, thanks for the offer, Mr. Cates,” Shirlene said. “But I don’t need any handouts.”

Billy swung his legs over the mattress and got to his feet. “This isn’t a game, Ms. Dalton. And even if it is, you win. The house is yours, free and clear.”

She laughed. “And you expect me to fall for that? Not likely. Do you plan to let me move back in just so you can have the pleasure of tossing me out again? Well, I’m not falling for it. You can have the house. I’m fine and dandy just where I am.”

His anger spiked. “You call being broke and living in a beat-up trailer with no air conditioner fine and dandy! Have you lost your mind, woman?”

She only hesitated for a moment. “How did you know my air conditioner doesn’t work?”

Damn. He flopped back down on the mattress and ran a hand through his hair. “A lucky guess. Most old trailers don’t have working air conditioners. But that’s beside the point, Ms. Dalton. I’m offering you a chance to move back into the comfort of your home—a home with refrigerated air—and you’re refusing me? That’s just plain stubborn.”

She laughed. “I’ve been known to have such a streak. It’s just been a while since I showed it off. And I must say it feels kind of good.”

“Well, it won’t feel so good when you have to hock another one of your diamonds.”

“My… you do have a way of getting information, don’t you, Mr. Cates?” she said in that sassy voice of hers. “Of course, with the way Twyla’s been flashing her hand around, it couldn’t be that hard. But just so you don’t have to spend any more time worrying about little old me, I’ve found another way to make money. In fact, I need to cut our conversation short because my sugar daddy just arrived.”

Billy sat straight up in bed. But before he could get any words out, the crazy woman hung up. He stared at the phone. Her sugar daddy? She had to be kidding. There was no way she’d found a sugar daddy that fast, especially when she’d been kissing him no more than a day earlier. Of course, she hadn’t been kissing him as much as he’d been kissing her. One minute, he was noticing how nicely their hands fit together, and the next, he was kissing her like the sex-crazed womanizer he claimed he was. It was pathetic, and one of the reasons he’d decided to keep his distance from Shirlene Dalton.

Which didn’t explain why he got dressed in record time and hurried through the hedge with his open shirt flapping.

When he got there, Shirlene was standing in the yard talking with a man Billy had never seen before, a man who didn’t seem like the sugar daddy type. He wore a pair of overalls and drove a white van with a trailer hitched to the back. Still, the man couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off Shirlene. Not that Billy blamed him. No matter what the woman wore—tight jeans and stilettos or cut-offs and bare feet—she exuded a raw sex appeal that only a eunuch could ignore.

And Billy was no eunuch.

It had been barely a day since he had seen her, an entire day where he had tried to convince himself that his interest in Shirlene had more to do with proximity than real desire. But if that was true then why did his heart hitch when she glanced over?

“Billy,” she said. It was the first time she’d said his name, and his heart did another crazy flip. It was nothing compared to how it felt when she flashed him one of her dazzling smiles. His breath got all jiggy, and it took a real effort not to walk right over and kiss the daylights out of her. Instead, he directed his attention to the man. Billy’s disapproval must’ve registered because the man took a step back.

“This is Owen Carlisle, Billy.” Shirlene shifted Baby Adeline to her other hip. “He’s a picker.”

Before he could ask her what the man intended to pick, the front door of the trailer opened, and Jesse came barreling out, followed by Brody, the pig, and Mia. Everyone greeted him, including the pig—everyone but Mia. Since returning from her date with Austin, the teenage girl seemed even more intimidated by him. He could only assume that she knew he’d seen her driver’s license and was worried he’d turn them in. He probably should. But
lately there were a lot of things he should be doing that he wasn’t—like staying the hell away from Shirlene Dalton.

“What’s a picker?” he asked.

“You know,” Shirlene said. “Like that television show where those two men go to people’s junk piles and buy things off them. In fact, that’s where I got the idea to call someone out to look at my junk.”

Owen Carlisle smirked, and Billy suddenly had the strong desire to wipe the expression off with his fist. Instead, he found himself walking straight over to Shirlene and staking a claim he had no business staking by hooking an arm around her waist.

He held out his other hand. “Nice to meet you, Owen.”

“Same here,” the man said, although he didn’t sound any more convincing than Billy. No doubt, before Billy got there, he figured Shirlene’s junk would be easy pickin’s. But Billy wasn’t about to let that happen. And neither was a nine year old with an aptitude for sales. The man had no more than pointed at an old gas station sign, then Jesse jumped in and started wheeling and dealing.

“Is there a reason your hand’s on my waist?” Shirlene asked as the kids followed the picker around the yard.

Billy looked down, and for a moment, he got lost in the vibrant green of her eyes. He was brought back to his senses when Adeline reached out and grabbed for the snaps on his shirt. Catching her hand, Shirlene pulled it back and pressed a quick kiss on the tiny fingers.

“I see you and Adeline have formed a truce,” he said, as he struggled to pull his gaze from Shirlene’s full mouth. It wasn’t easy, especially with it tipped in a soft smile.