Trial by Fire (13 page)

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Authors: BA Tortuga

Tags: #gay romance

BOOK: Trial by Fire
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Lachlan stared at the bloody spot where the kid named Shiloh had fallen. “Right. I’ll clean that up.”

“Should we? I mean, don’t they have to take pictures or something?” Holden looked at him, shook his head. “You want… well, I want whiskey, but I’m going to settle for coffee. I need to get Colorado some food, water.”

“I’d love some.” These Texans and their coffee. The quiet after the rush of people made his ears ring. Maddening.

“Okay.” They headed to the kitchen, the sound of their boots near unbearable. The place was a wreck—equipment and food and dirty dishes. “Jesus. Momma’s gonna have a cat,” Holden said.

“You have a hundred people who could come scrub. No worries. We’ll sort it out.” He sounded like a greeting card company.

Holden blinked at him. “I like you more when you’re an unreasonable fuckmonkey. You don’t do calm and cool worth a shit.”

“Bite me.” Lachlan grinned, though. “Trust me, I’m all but two inches from losing it. I’m so sick of being told to be a good little soldier and wait.”

Holden gave him a look. “I could see you as a soldier. Me, not so much.”

“I hate taking orders. I think I’ve been in shock.” Lachlan winked, then began cleaning dishes to have something to do while Holden fed the dog leftover sandwiches and pulled up a bowl of water.

When he was done, Holden made two cups of coffee, fixed his up with creamer, then stopped, frowning. “Did you hear that?”

Lachlan held his breath. Okay, that was a weird thumping, and there weren’t many other people still about. “Maybe your other dog came back?”

“Come on.” Holden grabbed a cane from a container right inside the door and kept it down near his leg. Right, what if it wasn’t a dog?

He heard another thud, this time accompanied by a grunt, and they both started running. Holden had shorter legs, but knew the house better and got to the sunroom first. Lachlan skidded to a halt when he saw his dad’s feet and legs, the rest of him hidden by a couch.

Holden put one finger over his lips, other hand gripping the cane.

“Where is it, Sheffield? I swear to God, where is the motherfucking money? I will beat you to death.”

“Where’s my granddaughter? I ain’t giving you dick, you don’t give her to me.” Holden’s old man spit blood at this rangy asshole’s feet. “My family was good to you, Norman. We gave you a home, and this is how you repay us?”

“You gave me a home? Worked me like a dog. And for what? Short pay compared to the millions you give those rodeo fuckers.” Norman pulled back to hit Mr. Brandon again.

Holden, for all his legs were tiny, could run like the wind, and the sound of that cane hitting Norman’s elbow cracked like a shot. Not nearly as loud as the second blow, which connected right under Norman’s chin, snapping the man’s head up.

Norman grunted, eyes rolling back, and Lachlan saw one hand go for something under the filthy snap-front shirt. No. He was goddamned tired of people hurting the ones he loved, and he leaped forward, straddled Norman, and slammed him to the floor. He took the pistol in one motion and whipped Norman across the face with it. “Where the fuck is she?”

“Daddy? Mr. McCoughey?” Holden asked.

“Hit his head.”

“Call 911. They still got my phone.”

“I got it.” Mr. Brandon rolled away and dialed emergency.

Lachlan knew how to handle a pistol, so he thumbed off the safety. “Where?”

“Fuck you.”

He pulled the hammer back. “Don’t believe for a second that I won’t do this. I’ll be back in Oz before they reassemble the pieces.”

Norman’s hazel eyes widened when the sight scraped his forehead. “She’s in my truck! Outside. I came in through the back pastures behind the barns when all those law dogs went out the front gate. I strapped her into the carrier! I swear.”

“Go get her, Holden,” Lachlan growled, but his little cowboy was already running, hitting the glass doors like a freight train.

“You so much as twitch and I’ll have an accident with my trigger finger, you understand?” Lachlan wanted his niece, his dad okay, Holden safe, but he made himself bark at Mr. Brandon first. “I need something to tie him, sir.”

“I can surely do that. I started in this business as a tie-down roper, did you know?”

“No, sir.” Lachlan laughed a little, but his focus never slipped off Norman. This man had all but killed the bullfighter, and shot that poor, stupid kid Shiloh. “I’ll let you do the honors, then, shall I?”

“My pleasure, cowboy.” Like a flash, the bastard was hogtied, Mr. Brandon completely unconcerned with what looked like a dislocated elbow. “Go see to your daddy, son.”

He could hear the cop calling for them, could hear sirens. “I’m getting tired of that sound, Mr. Brandon.”

“No shit on that, sir.”

Lachlan knelt by his dad, who looked pale, but his heartbeat was steady, and his skin was warm. “Dad, wake up. Come on, you old bastard. Your granddaughter is here.”

He hoped.

Chapter Eighteen

 

 

HOLDEN
ran hard.

Please God. Please God. Please God.
The words repeated with every step, getting faster and faster.
Please God. Please God. Let her be there.

A yellow streak shot out from behind the truck, barking hysterically, then Colorado came running to meet it. “Harry! Harry, where is she?”

The dogs ran from him to the truck and back, ran back to him, over and over, and he followed as quickly as he could. “I’m coming, baby girl!”

He damn near ran into the tailgate of the truck, catching himself on the bed. The whole crappy POS shifted, and he heard a wild scream.

“Chloe!”

At the sound of his voice, the screams intensified, and he was tearing at the door, coming close to decapitating himself when the fucking thing actually opened.

She was right there, filthy and furious and right there.

“Oh, sweet baby. Praise God, I got you. Daddy’s got you.” He picked her up, held her to his chest. “Oh, baby girl. You’re safe. We got you now. You hear me, Addie? Landon? I got her. She’s safe.”

He walked slowly back toward the lights, the dogs milling around them, terrified that, after all this horseshit that he’d fall down, drop her.

He wasn’t ever going to let her go again.

Her cries slowed as he walked, turning to unhappy gurgles, like she was fussing at him. “I know, right? You’ve had a shitty few days. Me too.”

“Sir, where’s the vehicle?” Two incredibly young cops met him at the back door. One was a state trooper, the other, the Titus County deputy who’d been out front watching the house.

“Back behind the tack barn. He’s in the house. Lachlan might shoot him.”

“No, sir. Martin’s partner is in there and has the situation under control.”

“Oh, good. I have Chloe. I’m going to take her in.”

“I’m afraid the EMTs need to see her, and she’ll need to be processed first.”

“Not without me.”

“Or me.” Lachlan stood there suddenly, hand on his shoulder. “Oh, kiddiwink, my Littlie, you’ve been a spot of trouble.”

At the sound of Lachlan’s voice, Chloe cooed, little arms punching away.

“Don’t get all gooey, cowboy,” Holden teased. “She thinks you sound funny.”

“I bet I do. She still likes me.”

“Jim here will walk you through what we need,” the trooper called Martin said. “I’ll go check the vehicle.”

“She needs a bath and a new nappy and a bottle, huh?” Lachlan touched her cheek and she grabbed his finger, holding on tight.

“She does, and she needs to sleep in her own bed.”

“I can relate to that.” Lachlan touched him with the other hand, palm resting on the small of his back. The simple contact warmed him, made him hum. He felt as though he could enjoy touch now, as his parts were mending back together.

Like he could breathe.

Chloe was home.

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

LACHLAN
had slept like the dead.

Sometime around 2:00 a.m., he’d left the oldies at the hospital and headed to the hotel. God knew, he wanted to go back to Holden’s and sit and watch Chloe sleep, but he couldn’t leave his mum and dad to navigate a hospital where they’d admitted Dad for the night by themselves.

He was meant to pick them up in about ten minutes when Dad got his wheelchair from discharge, and take them to the ranch. Lachlan had stopped at a fast-food place called Whataburger and gotten brunch for two or three dozen, letting the little sheila behind the counter tell him what to order.

Everyone, barring Mrs. Sheffield, stood in front of the hospital like he was late. Mr. Brandon looked about as exhausted as his folks, and they all pushed into the rental car.

“You heard from Dez?” his mum asked as she piled in.

“He texted. Things are fine at the ranch.”

“Chloe?”

“She’ll be apples. Holden said she’s been sleeping and eating. Says she’s been in someone’s arms the entire night.” He’d put money on that someone being Holden himself.

“Good. Oh, I can’t wait to meet her.”

“She’s an angel,” Brandon said. “’Cept when she’s not getting her way.”

“Just like her mum, then.” Lachlan laughed.

“What smells so good?” his dad asked.

“Whataburger.”

Mr. Brandon moaned. “Hallelujah. Tell me there’s biscuits and gravy, son.”

“There are. The flat boxes at the bottom.”

“They put gravy on biscuits?” Mum asked.

“It’s like savory scones.”

“Addie loved it. Asked for it all the time.” Mr. Brandon pulled out a box and a fork. “Y’all want anything? There’s breakfast tacos and hash browns and honey chicken biscuits. You’re a good ’un, Lachlan.”

Mum looked at him in the rearview with a panicked face, but Dad just said, “Whatever’s soft.”

Mr. Brandon offered Dad a sausage biscuit and handed his mum some crispy potatoes.

“I’ll wait,” he told Mr. Brandon. There was enough in there for fifty people.

“Good deal. They think my Margery might could come home tomorrow or the day after, and Maria is going to be back at work Monday.”

“Oh, goodo.” That was excellent news. “I’m so sorry they were both under the weather.” This had taken a huge toll on Holden’s family.

“Under the weather? Far as I’m concerned, they was both hurt by that ungrateful bastard that stole our granddaughter.”

Dad brayed like a jackass. “Never heard Lachy be as tactful as he’s been this week. So diplomatic, Lad.”

“Well, my other option was to try and keep up with Holden, eh?” Dez would have killed him for sure.

“He did go around the bend some,” Brandon said.

“Don’t blow my good image with the elders, now.”

“No, son, I meant Holden. He’s usually the level-headed one.”

“Really?” He couldn’t imagine.

“Lord yes. Landon was the daredevil. My Holden is steady as stone, rock solid and dependable. I left him running the ranch the summer he turned sixteen, and he’s never looked back.”

Sixteen. Lord that was young.

“Lachy took over when he turned eighteen,” Dad said. “I was grateful. That way I could travel and such while I was still young enough to enjoy. He makes me proud.”

“I bet. I seen him with the horses. He’s a cowboy.”

The words made Lachlan pleased, made him damn thrilled, honestly. He’d learned what the cowboy code meant to people here, and Lachlan wanted to be in that number.

“Are we close? I can’t wait to hold her. See more than the pictures.” Mum sounded desperate, teary already. “I promised Margery we’d go shopping for her after she was well. I hope she feels up to it.”

“Oh, Lord, that woman will drag you into Dallas, and you’ll be deaf and broke when she’s done.” Brandon sounded like his dad.

“Tell me you have something for me to do at the ranch,” his dad said. “Anything.”

“Shit, we’ll drink beer and play dominoes. Do you know dominoes?” Brandon sounded positively gleeful.

“I do. I can sink the piss with the best too.”

Mum rolled her eyes, and they pulled onto the ranch road. Lachlan called Holden’s phone, holding his breath until he heard that heavy drawl.

“’Lo?”

“Open the gate? I have a load of people.”

“Can do.” The line went dead, and the cast iron gate began to open. He waited for it to roll back all the way, then pulled through, pausing to make sure it began to close before moving on. These days he could never be too careful.

They pulled up to the house, and damn, but it felt good to see no police cars, no POS black sedans. Only pickup trucks. Lachlan actually smiled, the expression stretching his cheeks.

Suddenly he wanted to see Holden, see Chloe, so bad it burned. He loved Chloe because she was Ades’s, because she was an innocent and family.

He loved Holden for a whole different reason.

Lachlan sat there, hands on the wheel, feeling frozen in place. Surely that was ridiculous, to say he loved Holden. They barely knew each other. Right? Now, there was precedent in his family.

“Son, you coming?”

Everyone else was already out of the car, and his dad waited, staring.

Lachlan shook off his shock. “Sure. Sorry. Woolgathering.”

“He needs more rest.” That was his mum, always taking care, always fretting.

“I’m fine as frog hair. Isn’t that what they say here?” He’d heard that more than once in the last few days.

“Very nice.” Holden came out, the baby in this sling thing on his chest.

“Well, hey.” Lachlan felt that grin stretching his cheeks again. Holden looked bruised, tired, but happy. “And there’s my girl.”

“Hey there. Hey, sweet baby. You want to see your best buddy?” Holden jiggled Chloe against his chest.

Lachlan leaned in, cooing at her, and she reached for him like they were made for each other.

“Can I introduce her to Mum and Dad?” He knew it would be hard for Holden to hand her over. Lachlan was happy to be the go-between.

“I think they will probably explode if they don’t get to see her.” Holden smiled at his parents, the look oddly gentle.

“They will.” He took Chloe when Holden unstrapped her, her sturdy, warm body making him glow a little. He had to nuzzle the top of her head. She smelled good, and she grabbed his cheeks, holding him tight.

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