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Blame It On The Cowboy
Blame It On The Cowboy
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Blame It On The Cowboy

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“Anyway, Walter didn’t see exactly what happened when Logan and the others went into Helene’s office,” Sissy Lee explained, “but he said he saw this clown running out the back.”

“A clown. You mean like something in a circus? Or a horror novel?” Because Reese wasn’t sure if Sissy Lee meant that word in a general sense.

“Circus or rodeo kind of clown,” Sissy Lee verified. “Walter said when Logan came out he looked like he’d seen a ghost. He’s never been the same since.”

Lucky had been so sure that the gossips had filled Reese in by now, but obviously the townsfolk didn’t know as much as the McCords thought they did.

“Of course, we don’t know who the clown was,” Sissy Lee went on. “I thought it was Brian, the guy who worked for Helene, but it turns out that he’s gay. Of course, I guess he could actually be bi or else—”

“How long ago did that clown stuff happen to Logan?” Reese interrupted.

Sissy Lee shrugged. “This past summer.”

That fit with Reese’s timeline of her one-night stand three months ago. Maybe.

Sissy Lee put Logan’s boxed burger meal aside, and while Reese dished up Daniel’s plate, she got an idea. “Where do the McCords live? Because I’ll have a break soon, and I can drop that off to him.”

“It’s that big house on the edge of town. Can’t miss it. Except Logan doesn’t spend much time there anymore. You know that Victorian building just up the street? Well, that’s his office, and he has a loft apartment there.”

Reese had noticed the house. In fact, she was in the Bluebonnet Inn on the same block. She checked the time—still an hour before her break, but maybe Logan’s assistant wouldn’t come for the burger before then.

Because Reese wanted to get inside that building. She had some spying to do.

* * *

“REESE STEPHENS.” Logan repeated her name under his breath as he read the initial report the private investigator had just sent him.

There wasn’t much info yet, but then when Logan had called the PI the day before, the man had said it might take a while, that the woman wasn’t showing up in his usual search engines.

There had to be a reason for that.

Logan didn’t know what game she was playing, but she was up to something. No doubt about it. After all, she had that photo of him on her phone, so even if she’d been too drunk to remember, she would have seen it later and then recognized him at the café. Of course, there was the possibility that she hadn’t known whether it was Lucky or him who’d gotten into that hotel bed with her, but there was still no reason for her not to fess up.

No good reason, anyway.

So, why was she here in Spring Hill? The private investigator’s initial report certainly didn’t help with that. Her name was Reese Violet Stephens. She was twenty-nine, single. She’d attended culinary school in New Orleans and worked as a cook or chef at various restaurants all over the US. However, she’d never stayed at any of them for more than a couple of months. No criminal record—under that name, anyway.

And that was it.

She had no social media accounts, no driver’s license, no paper trail that people usually left. That only made Logan even more suspicious. The PI, too, and that’s why he was digging deeper. Hopefully, that digging wouldn’t take too long.

Logan parked in the circular drive in front of his family’s home, and he hadn’t even stepped from his truck before he got a whiff of what Lucky and he had discussed the day before.

The manure.

Yeah, it was a problem all right. The bulls had already been moved, but it might take a while for the stench to clear out.

He was about to head up the steps to the porch when his phone buzzed, and after Logan saw the name on the screen, he knew it was a call he had to take.

Bert Starkley, the owner of the Fork and Spoon Café.

Logan had called him the night before, but Bert hadn’t answered so Logan had left him a voice mail. Nothing specific and Logan had to make sure he didn’t say anything to Reese’s employer that would make the man suspicious. Or make Bert think Logan was interested in her. The last thing Logan needed was more gossip about him and a woman. Especially a woman who was almost certainly bad news.

Later, he’d curse himself again for that one-night stand, but now he needed to find out anything he could about her.

“Logan?” Bert said when he answered. “Is everything okay?”

It was a valid question, considering that Logan had never before called the man. “Everything’s fine.” And he chose his next words carefully. “I was at the café yesterday for lunch—”

“Yep, I heard. Sissy Lee,” Bert added as if that explained everything. Which it did. The waitress had no doubt blabbed to everyone that Logan had left the café in a hurry.

“I had to leave for a meeting,” Logan lied. He hated liars, but this little white one was necessary. Even if Bert didn’t totally believe that lie, maybe he’d still repeat it to diffuse some of Sissy Lee’s gossip. And he didn’t have to think hard to imagine what that gossip might entail. It almost certainly hinged on Helene.

“Sissy Lee mentioned the meeting, too,” Bert verified. “How can I help you? Is this about the catering job?”

Logan frowned. “What catering job?”

“Something Della wanted us to do for her.”

This was the first Logan was hearing about it, but then he was too busy to get involved with the daily workings of the house. “No. I was calling about your new cook.” Logan left it at that, to see what Bert would volunteer about her.

But nothing.

Clearly, Bert was waiting to see what Logan would volunteer.

“Renee?” Logan finally said. “Is that her name?”

“Reese.” Again, that was it. Hell, Bert wasn’t cooperating with this at all.

“She looked familiar,” Logan continued. “I just wondered how you’d found her?”

“She came into the café, asked about the help-wanted sign that I had in the window. I gave her a trial run to see if she could cook. She can, by the way. I hope you enjoyed that burger she fixed.”

He hadn’t. Logan hadn’t eaten a bite of it, so rather than lie again, he just made a sound of approval. “Reese dropped it off at my office after I had to leave. I wasn’t there, but she left it with Greg.”

Considering Logan had told Reese that Greg would be picking it up in the first place, he was even more suspicious that the woman had personally delivered it.

“You probably heard that Maggie’s got to have some surgery,” Bert added a moment later.

Maggie, Bert’s wife, and yes, Logan had heard. Female problems, which was the only thing Logan had listened to after hearing those two words. “I hope Maggie will be okay,” Logan said.

“Oh, she will be. Female problems,” Bert repeated. “But it means I’ll be out of the kitchen for a while. Reese said she’d have no trouble pulling double shifts for me.”

Logan was even more leery. Why was she being so accommodating? Of course, the obvious reason might be that with double shifts she would be earning double pay, but Logan wasn’t ready to cut her that kind of slack just yet.

“So, Reese had references when you hired her?” Logan pressed.

“Oh, I get it now. You’re wanting to make sure she’s experienced enough to do the catering job for Della?”

No, that wasn’t it at all. “Is she qualified? What did her previous employers have to say about her?”

“Didn’t check them out after I tasted a couple of things she cooked for me. The woman bakes, too. Melt in your mouth pies and cakes. She did this lemon thingy that had all the customers going on about it.” Bert paused. “But if you’re worried about her, I can check her references. Are you, uh, worried about her?”

The question was reasonable, but Logan heard something in Bert’s tone. He’d used the word worried but what he really meant was interested. Hell’s bells. Bert thought Logan was looking to hit on Reese.

“I just want to make sure Reese is the right person for the catering job,” Logan clarified, though he was dead certain that wouldn’t quell any of Bert’s interested suspicions since Logan hadn’t even known about the catering job before this phone call. “If you could follow through on her references, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure. I’ll get back to you.”

Logan ended the call, ready to go inside, but once again his phone buzzed. Good grief. At this rate, he’d never get in the house, but again it was a call he needed to take.

Jason Murdock’s name was on the screen.

Logan and he had been friends since high school, and when Jason had taken over running his uncle’s large ranch about thirty miles from Spring Hill, it made sense for them to do business together. Jason had cows to sell, and Logan needed to buy huge herds so he could resell in smaller groups and make a profit.

But there was a problem with Jason.

“If you’re going to give me another pity deal,” Logan said when he answered, “then I don’t want it.”

“Good. Because you’re not getting pity from me. I don’t do pity deals, pity fucks or pity anything else. I needed to unload those cows because I didn’t have the room for them.”

Logan wanted to believe him, but their friendship might have caused Jason to bend his no-pitying rule.

“I’m calling about Helene,” Jason said a moment later. “And yeah, you can hang up if you want, but her mother, Mary, called me this morning. She was boo-hooing all over the place. She wanted me to try to talk you into seeing Helene.”

“No.” Logan didn’t have to think about that, either. “Why would Mary call you?”

“Because she figured you’d just hang up on her. Let’s face it, Logan, you’re not exactly the forgiving sort.”

He wasn’t, and Logan liked that just fine. “Why did Mary want me to see Helene?” Logan asked.

“Hell if I know. And she wouldn’t say. She just said it was important.” Jason paused. “You know if you ever want to talk about what happened that night with Helene, all you have to do is call me.”

“Thanks but no thanks.” Logan had enough of those images in his head without reliving them through conversation.

Clowns and liars.

“If Mary calls back,” Logan told his friend, “have her call me directly.” Not that he especially wanted to talk to his ex’s mom, but he also didn’t want her pulling Jason into this.

Logan ended the call and went inside to ask Della about this catering issue. However, the moment he opened the door, he realized he might not be able to make a beeline for the kitchen as he’d planned. That’s because Lucky and Cassie were down on their knees in the foyer. At first Logan thought he’d walked in on something sexual—always a possibility where his twin was concerned—but then he saw that this was something much more intimate.

Lucky was proposing.

He was in the process of slipping an engagement ring on Cassie’s finger, and Cassie had tears in her eyes. Judging from her smile, they were tears of a happy variety.

“Crap,” Lucky grumbled. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to see this,” he added to Logan.

Perhaps because Lucky thought it would bring back bad memories of Logan’s own botched proposal. It did, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t happy for Lucky and Cassie. They were suited for each other, though that wasn’t apparent to them when Cassie had come back into Lucky’s life almost four months ago.

“I didn’t like Lucky being on his knees alone,” Cassie said, getting to her feet. “I said yes.”

She held out the ring for Logan to see. Since he still hadn’t closed the door, the sunlight caught the diamond just right, causing it to glint into his eyes.

It was their mother’s ring.

Of course, Logan had always known that it was Lucky’s to use if he wanted. Despite their mother only being in her forties when she’d been killed, she had made it a habit of saying which jewelry she would leave for each child. The engagement ring she’d wanted for Lucky. The wedding band for their kid sister, Anna. Logan had gotten her pearl necklace and Riley a gold bracelet.

Precious mementos.

But to Logan the most precious thing was his father’s pocketknife. That meant as much to him as the engagement ring had meant to Lucky.

Logan gave Cassie a kiss on the cheek and his brother a hug. “Congrats to both of you. It’s about time you made it official.” He tried to keep his tone light, and he did mean the congrats. Still, that didn’t help with the sudden lump in his throat.

“I’m going to tell Della and Stella,” Cassie said, glancing at Logan.

She hurried away, probably because she sensed Logan needed some time with his brother. Or time alone. But while Logan would take that time alone, later, for now he needed to do a little business with Lucky.

“I won’t keep you,” Logan assured him. “I figure Cassie and you will want to celebrate before the girls get home from school.” And by celebrate, he meant they’d want to have sex. “I just wanted to make sure the bull situation had been fixed before I leave for Dallas.”

The Dallas trip was legit. Logan was on a 3:00 p.m. flight and would be gone at least a couple of days, but considering he was slammed with work and getting ready for several magazine interviews, he was BS-ing about asking about the BS.

Lucky’s flat look told Logan he wasn’t buying the reason for this visit. “All right, what’s wrong with you?”

Logan hated to play the scorned-lover card, but he would this time. “You know what’s wrong with me. That doesn’t mean I’m not happy for Cassie and you. I am.”

Lucky’s flat look continued. “Does this have anything to do with the new cook at the Fork and Spoon?”

Either twin telepathy again or a good guess was in play here. “Why do you ask?” Logan settled for saying.

“Because of the way you lit out of there like your balls were on fire. But maybe they were on fire because of the lie you told her. You didn’t have a meeting.”

“But I did.” One that Logan scheduled as soon as he left the café.

Lucky clearly knew he was semilying, again, but Logan didn’t intend to let him in on anything. If Reese had meant “what happens in San Antonio stays in San Antonio,” then maybe she had a good reason for not wanting the one-nighter spilled, either.

Of course, that good reason might have something to do with blackmail, but for now Logan would use that possibility to his advantage. Besides, he didn’t want Lucky or anyone else to know he’d done something so stupid as to sleep with a woman he didn’t know.

Lucky kept staring at him. “Reese and I chatted after you left,” his brother tossed out there. And he watched, no doubt to see how Logan would respond.

Logan merely shrugged. At least he hoped that was the only thing his body was doing. “Let me guess—she flirted with you?” Easy guess because most women flirted with Lucky.

“No flirting. She asked about our trucks, said she thought she’d seen me driving one.”

Logan’s stomach tightened. He’d driven one of the company trucks to that San Antonio hotel, and if Reese had gotten a glimpse of it, then that could explain how she’d found him. Of course, he’d been on the cover of several Texas magazines, too, so perhaps that’s how she had made the connection.

“You’re not going to tell me what this is really about, are you?” Lucky asked.

Finally a question where Logan wouldn’t have to lie. “No. I need to talk to Della,” he said, heading for the kitchen.