Lone Star Lonely
Authors: Maggie Shayne
Tags: #texas, #family, #secrets, #cowboy, #ranch, #contemporary romance, #western romance, #maggie shayne, #texas brands, #left at the alter
Lone Star Lonely
The Outlaw Bride
LONE STAR LONELY
Previously titled: The Baddest Bride in
Texas
First Published 1998
Copyright © 2014 by Maggie Shayne
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. Except for use in any
review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in
part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now
known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and
recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is
forbidden without the written permission of the author.
All characters in this book have no
existence outside the imagination of the author and have no
relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They
are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown
to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
“So, what do you think, big brother?” Adam
Brand sat at his brother’s desk with the chair tipped back and his
feet propped up. He tapped his fingers in time with Hank Jr. on the
radio. Other than that, he didn’t move much at all. Garrett was too
busy to complain.
“What do I think?” Garrett glanced up from
where he stood, elbow-deep in the ancient file cabinet on the other
side of his office. “I think you volunteered to help me out today,
and so far all you’ve done is sit there bouncing career plans off
me.”
Okay, so Garrett wasn’t too busy to complain.
Adam grinned and slapped his boots onto the floor, sitting up
straight and leaning over the keyboard again. “I’ve been helping.
Just bouncing ideas off you as I go along.” He finished entering
the information from the file folder in front of him to the new
computer on Garrett’s desk. Then he closed the folder and added it
to the “done” pile. “So what do you think?”
Garrett shrugged, carrying a fresh stack of
files to the desk and dropping them down. The front door was open,
but the only breeze right now came from the little electric fan in
the corner, not from the dusty west Texas air.
“I never saw the appeal of number crunching,
myself, Adam. You seem to do well enough with it, though.” Garrett
parted his lips, then closed them again. He didn’t say any
more.
“Why do I sense a ‘but’ dying to jump in
here?”
Garrett met Adam’s eyes and shrugged, making
the shiny silver badge on his shirt move up and down. “I don’t
know, Adam. Guess I kinda figured you’d get bored with it after a
while. You went to the big city to lick your wounds, and that was
understandable. But being a banker for the rest of your life? Hell,
I never thought I’d see one of us….” He bit his lip, probably
sensing he was treading close to dangerous ground.
Adam sat up straighter and tried to hold on
to his temper. It wasn’t hard. He’d been practicing for a long
time. “Lick my wounds, huh? Is that what everybody thinks?”
Garrett lowered his head. “Nobody blames you.
Kirsten stood you up at the altar, Adam. Took off and married
another man. No one expected you to get over it all at once.”
“I’m over it. I’ve been over it.”
“Okay.” Garrett nodded and turned away. “You
say you’re over it, you’re over it.”
Adam got to his feet. “I am.”
“Hey, whatever you say. I don’t want to fight
with you,” Garrett said, holding up both hands.
It would have been funny if Adam hadn’t been
so disgusted at his brother’s mistaken assumptions. Garrett stood a
head taller and outweighed him by thirty pounds. Not that Adam was
a small man. Just that his brother was a bear.
“You’ll never understand,” Adam said.
“Probably not.”
And Adam knew he was right. Hell, it ought to
be obvious how different he was from his brother—from his entire
family—just at a glance. Garrett’s jeans were faded blue, worn
white in places. His boots were scuffed. His shirt, found at the
local discount store for $9.99.
Adam’s boots gleamed, and he wore jeans only
to do chores. The rest of the time he dressed the way he always
had: well. Today he wore black trousers and a black button down
shirt with pearl snaps up the front. They all drove pickups or
SUVs. He drove a Jag. They all picked on him for his so-called
big-city ways. Except for Garrett’s wife, Chelsea, who claimed he
was trying to compensate for a broken heart and the resulting
feelings of inadequacy by buying nice things for himself. He didn’t
know why the hell Garrett had ever encouraged that woman to go for
her degree in psychology. Adam felt defensive; about his
life-style, his clothes, his car and his plans for the future. And
he wondered briefly why.
“I think I could do well here,” he said
slowly. “Set up an office, keep the books for some local
businesses, offer investment counseling….”
“I’m sure you could. And hell, I’m all for
anything that keeps you home.” Garrett sent him a warm smile. “It’s
where you belong, Adam.”
Adam nodded. “At least we agree on one thing.
I’ve missed it. New York’s great, but it sure as hell isn’t
Texas.”
“Sure as hell isn’t,” Garrett agreed. He
cleared his throat, licked his lips.
“What is it you’re deciding not to say?” Adam
asked.
Garrett looked sheepish. “I just don’t see
why the original plan couldn’t do just as well.” He talked slow,
taking his time. Garrett always talked slow, measured every
word.
“Original plan?” Adam frowned.
“You, uh…used to talk about a dude ranch.
Don’t you remember?”
“Oh. That.” He tried to sound as if he’d
forgotten all about it. That had been their dream. His and
Kirsten’s. He didn’t let himself think about that anymore. “Hell,
Garrett, that must’ve been a hundred years ago.” It wasn’t. It
wasn’t so long ago at all. But a lot had happened since then. His
dreams had been thrown back in his face one too many times, and
Adam had decided dreaming was a foolish thing to do. Practicality
was better. Safer.
“Shoot,” Garrett muttered as he opened
another file. “The rest of this one’s in the back room. Along with
a few others I’d forgotten about. I’ll get ‘em.”
He slapped another file on the desk and
headed out of the office.
Poor Garrett. He’d thought the new computer
system the town had purchased for the sheriff’s department would be
a blessing. A work saver. Instead, it was turning into the world’s
biggest headache. Fine time for his deputy-slash-brother-in-law to
be out of town. Still, it made Adam smile to think of his baby
sister Jessi doing Disney with her husband and little girl.
The phone rang, and Adam automatically
snatched it up. “Sheriffs office.”
Silence.
“Hello? Can I—”
“Adam?”
Her voice was so soft he barely recognized it
at first. But it wasn’t as if he could forget the sound of his name
on Kirsten’s lips, even when she only breathed it, the way she’d
done just now.
Especially
when she only breathed it
the way she’d done just now.
A heavy, hot fist plowed right into his
belly. For a second he couldn’t draw air. Then he managed to
inhale, and uttered a single word.
“Kirsten,” he said. Great. A croak. His
throat was drier than a tumbleweed. He reminded himself that he
hated this woman. Hated her in a way he’d never hated anyone
before. And he liked hating her. It felt good to hate her. He
needed to hate her. “What do you want?” There, that was better.
Much better.
She was silent for a long moment. Then,
“I…need to speak to Garrett.”
“He’s busy.”
“It’s not a social call, Adam. Please put
your brother on the phone.”
Adam blinked, because there was something in
her voice. Something that hadn’t been there in all the times he’d
spoken to her since he’d been back here. All those times, there had
been only ice. Cold and smooth and gleamingly perfect, without so
much as a single chip in its frigid surface.
There was a chip now. And he cursed himself
for wondering why.
“I’m helping Garrett out today,” he said
slowly, telling himself that his curiosity was natural and meant
nothing at all. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll pass it
along.”
“Fine,” she whispered. “Fine. You want to
know so bad, Adam, I’ll tell you. My husband is lying here on the
floor with a small bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. If
Garrett’s not too busy, maybe he’d like to come on out here
and—”
Adam swore, and she stopped talking. She
couldn’t be serious. But she was; it was clear in her voice. He’d
always known her better than anyone. That hadn’t changed. He cupped
the receiver. “Garrett, get in here.” Then he spoke to Kirsten
again. “You okay?”
“I’m standing here with his blood on my
hands, Adam. How the hell am I supposed to answer that?”