Texas Thunder (14 page)

Talk about desperate.

But she wasn't letting her emotions get the best of her this time. She wasn't throwing herself at Brett Sawyer.

Never again.

If only that thought didn't depress her almost as much as not finding the recipe.

 

CHAPTER 15

He had a boner the size of Texas.

Brett shifted, feeling the heavy weight pressing against his zipper as he stood at the window and watched Callie climb into her grandaddy's old blue truck. A soft breeze caught the hem of her sundress and pushed it higher, giving him a tantalizing view of her thigh as she slid onto the seat.

His gut tightened and his cock throbbed.

And all because of a measly
kiss.

He ran a hand through his hair and tried to ignore the truth that throbbed in his jeans. He wasn't nearly as in control as he wanted to be where she was concerned.

He still wanted her, ached for her, and getting within a mile's radius of her was still dangerous with a capital
D
.

That's what his head told him.

But that damned hard-on chanted an entirely different story.

Damn straight one kiss had turned him inside out. He hadn't had a woman in over four months. Women were a distraction, one he couldn't afford while he was going from rodeo to rodeo during a busy season. Sure, there were lulls when he didn't mind filling his time by getting down and dirty. Hell, there were times when he
needed
to get lost in the moment and forget everything else. But coming off of two of the biggest rodeos of the season—San Antonio and then Houston—before heading straight for Rebel, he hadn't had the chance to breathe, much less burn off some much-needed steam.

It made sense he'd be hard enough to cut diamonds.

Add to that the fact that he'd always had a thing for Callie, and it made even more sense that one kiss would turn him on in a major way.

His damned celibacy was making a less-than-ideal situation that much worse.

He needed to get laid.

Especially if he intended to join forces with Callie and keep looking for his family's half of the recipe.

The safe might have been a bust, but he wasn't giving up. It made sense that the valuables would be missing if there, indeed, was a thief at Bootleg Bayou. But family mementos? The leftover box of cigars from the day he was born? His first pair of baby shoes? His sister's confirmation Bible? Those things had no value to anyone other than the Sawyers, and they'd been stashed right there in the safe along with the jewelry and savings bonds.

The truth echoed in his head over the next half hour as he sank down at his pappy's old desk and finalized the papers for the cattle sale. He was meeting the buyer later that afternoon to exchange paperwork and get his check.

Two thousand short of what he needed, of course, thanks to the missing cattle.

And the missing jewelry.

He'd had every intention of selling something to make ends meet, but letting go of a few acres as he'd told Callie would probably be for the best. The only problem there was that the money wouldn't come quickly enough. Ideally a land sale would take at least a month, but Brett needed to make ends meet
now.

Frustration rushed through him. He pushed to his feet and eyed the empty safe.

“Where is everything?” The familiar voice sounded behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to see his sister standing in the doorway.

“I wish I knew. I got the combination from Pappy's lawyer and when I opened it up, I found it empty.” He slid a glance toward his sister. “I've got ten cattle missing, too.”

“How is that possible?”

“Beats the hell out of me. Something's going on.”

“Is that why you were asking about the ranch hands? You think one of them has something to do with the missing cattle?”

And the safe.

“I think it's more likely someone outside of the ranch sees us as an easy target, what with Pappy's illness. Things are confusing right now and so it's an opportune chance to make a fast buck. When was the last time you saw the contents of the safe?”

She shrugged. “A year ago. Maybe two. Pappy never opened it up much.”

“The last time I saw it was five years ago when Pappy put my first buckle inside with the savings bonds, the jewelry, the Bible.”

“Grandma's old Bible?” He nodded and she added, “I didn't even know that was in the safe. The last time I saw that old thing, it was in one of those boxes in the attic. The ones filled with all of Grandma's stuff.”

Karen's words sent a bolt of hope through him and he eyed his sister. “So you're telling me it wasn't in the safe?”

She shook her head. “Not since two Christmases ago. Seeing all those mementos made Pappy upset so Dolly packed everything away and put it up in the attic. It calmed him down. For a little while, anyway.” She frowned. “So you really think someone is stealing from us?”

“I don't know, but it's looking more and more likely. Unless Pappy cleaned it out himself.”

“He can barely remember who we are, I seriously doubt he opened the safe and moved everything.”

“Maybe it was one of his better days.” Brett held tight to the hope and glanced toward the open doorway and the whistling that came from down the hall. It was an old Willie Nelson song, his grandmother's favorite as a matter of fact, and his gut tightened.

“He's in his bedroom getting dressed for his date.”

“Come again?” Brett arched an eyebrow.

“He told me he's going to call on this really pretty girl he met last week and ask her to the cotillion. I'm pretty sure he's talking about Grandma. He's putting on a red shirt and you know how she liked red.”

“When he's feeling better, I'll talk to him.”

Karen leveled a stare at him. “You mean
if
he ever feels better.”

“I mean
when.
” Brett closed the safe. “He's strong, Karen. He'll make it through this.” He gathered up the papers sitting atop the desk. “I need to get going. We're finishing up with the cattle sale today.” He rounded the polished oak table and headed for the door. “Let me know when you're heading back to school and we'll do something. Lunch or dinner in town maybe.”

He left the room, hanging a left toward the front door. The old Willie Nelson tune followed him, reminding him of the past and the Pappy he'd once known. One he intended to hold onto for as long as possible.

Pappy was strong. He could fight this. He would. He just needed a little time.

At least that's what Brett had been telling himself for the past two weeks.

He just wasn't so sure he believed it anymore.

*   *   *

Karen Sawyer stood near the kitchen window and watched her brother mount the multicolored paint in the back corral.

He tossed a leg over, kicked the animal into motion, and raced for the west pasture where Pepper and the others were loading several cattle trucks.

Pappy's whistling echoed in her ears and she blinked against the sudden burning behind her eyes.

While Brett refused to see the truth—that the Pappy they once knew was gone—Karen had accepted it months ago. She'd seen him deteriorating every holiday when she was home from school. At this past year's Christmas when he'd wrapped presents for her grandma, who'd been dead for years. At Easter when he'd hidden eggs for his only son, Berle. On the Fourth of July when he'd dressed in his Sunday best and waited for his beloved wife to come down the stairs so they could head to the annual Red, White & Blue picnic and eat banana pudding.

Each “episode” lasted longer and made him all the more upset when reality set in and he learned that his son was gone and his wife had passed, and the years had turned him into a shadow of the man he'd once been.

A man who was now old and frail and sick.

Those valuable moments of realization were becoming too few and far between, which is why she wasn't heading back to Texas A&M next weekend.

She wasn't just home for the break.

No, Karen Sawyer was home for good.

Pappy needed someone full-time, and while Dolly lived at Bootleg Bayou, she still had a life that existed outside of the ranch. She had a daughter and son-in-law in nearby Austin who'd given her a handful of grandkids to keep her busy during her weekends off. She had bingo on Monday nights and Bible study on Wednesdays. Both of which she'd given up to look after Pappy when Karen was in College Station.

But as dedicated as the old woman was, she wasn't family. It wasn't fair that she should have to sacrifice her life for her employer. Even if she considered that employer a dear friend.

Pappy needed someone who was all-in, every second of every day, and Karen intended to be that someone. Her grandfather had taken care of her ever since her mother had left. Before then, even, because her parents had been too busy fighting to pay much attention to their own kids.

Not Pappy. He'd been the one constant in her life, and now it was Karen's turn to repay the favor.

“You're doing no such thing,” Dolly had told her when she'd spilled the news to the woman just yesterday. “You're too young to be taking care of a sick old man. You should be out having fun, living life, falling in love.”

Love?

Seriously?

She'd been there and done that, and it had hurt like hell. She'd discovered that firsthand when certified SOB Layton Daniels had two-timed her with some random slut he'd met on Tinder. She'd caught him red-handed a few months ago at a fraternity graffiti party and she'd called it quits that very night.

Men sucked.

The only man she'd ever been able to depend on was her pappy. Sure, her brother was great. She knew she could call him anytime with any problem, but he wasn't
there.
He'd spent the past ten years on the road. Even now, he'd made it perfectly clear that his presence at Bootleg Bayou was just temporary. He had a career. A life.

Karen had neither. School wasn't all she'd hoped it would be, her biology class was kicking her ass, and Layton and his slut seemed to be lurking around every corner, studying in the Student Center, or chowing down in the dining hall, or sucking down beers at the Dixie Chicken.

She needed a break and Pappy needed her, and so she was staying right here where she belonged.

*   *   *

When Callie pulled up in front of the house she shared with her two sisters on Saturday night, the sun had finally set and shadows clustered on the front porch. The light was off, which meant that Jenna was still at the veterinary clinic and Brandy was working late at the bakery.

Like they did most nights.

They were living out their dreams, working hard for the future they'd planned for themselves.

Meanwhile Callie's life was stuck in neutral while she tried to figure out her current mess.

She remembered the burst of hope when Brett had agreed to look for his half of the recipe. For a moment, she'd pictured finding the recipe, calling Mark, walking into the bank to pay off the taxes, and finally sending off the armload of tear sheets that were ready and waiting on the corner of her desk. As if anything in her life had ever been that easy.

A symphony of barking dogs met her when she opened the front door. She spent the next half hour feeding the animals and letting them out to do their business, all the while doing her damnedest to forget Brett and the way he'd tasted.

Better than the past.

Hotter.

Sweeter.

Ugh.

Herding a yapping Jez into the den, she left the dog watching a rerun of
Keeping Up with the Kardashians
while she headed back to the kitchen to drown her own troubles.

Opening the fridge, she pulled out what was left of Nona Munson's prize-winning chocolate meringue pie. The old woman had dropped off two of the rare delicacies after the funeral, the first of which had been devoured in a record five minutes in the church rec hall. Brandy—bless her heart—had managed to hide the second and bring it home so that she could attempt to dissect Miss Nona's recipe and create her own version for the bakery.

That had involved eating nearly half the pie, which left the other half for Callie.

Thankfully.

She fished a fork out of the drawer, sat down at the table, and took her first bite. The decadent taste exploded on her tongue and sent a rush of
ahh
that temporarily distracted her from the all-important fact that Brett Sawyer had kissed her.

Slow and deep and …

She shoveled another bite and focused on the sweet meringue and rich chocolate and flaky crust—anything besides the way his lips had slanted over hers and the way his large hand had pressed just so at the base of her spine. There. That was better. No way could Brett hold a candle to Miss Nona's pie.

No matter how tall.

Or sexy.

Or downright yummy.

She ate a few more bites and tried to forget the past half hour and the way he'd looked at her and the way he'd held her and the way his strong, purposeful mouth had devoured hers.

She kept eating, until she reached the last bite and the only thing she could think of was how much Miss Nona deserved that blue ribbon she'd won last year.

Okay, so that wasn't the only thing she was thinking. Right up there? She was sure to regret pigging out. A girl didn't down half a pie and not pay the price when it came time to get dressed the next morning.

To offset the massive food baby and ease her own guilt, she went on another cleaning binge. She dusted and vacuumed and hauled out the trash. She even grabbed the doggy brush and spent fifteen minutes working through Jez's soft fur.

Not that she liked Jez all that much, or had any intention of getting her own pet once she packed up and left Rebel.

Callie was through being responsible for someone else. Once she had the city limits in her rearview mirror, her only responsibility would be to herself.