Always A Cowboy

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They sure did. Not one of them said a thing as Thelma walked away, ignoring a table full of customers madly waving to get her attention.

“I was kind of hoping for the bacon cheeseburger, but I’ll take whatever she sets in front of me,” Tate said. “Whew. I wouldn’t want to be the guy who made that grave error in judgment and hit her car. That had to be one hell of a conversation.”

“If I was Spence, I’d throw him in jail for his own protection.” Tripp drained what was left of his beer.

Drake didn’t disagree. “Now, back to the menu... I’m praying for chicken-fried steak, but I’ll roll with whatever happens to come my way. Did Red have a chance to talk to your dad?”

“About the bull, Sherman? Yeah, Jim will handle it—does him good to get involved. He misses that sort of thing.”

Jim, Tripp’s stepfather, had run the ranch for a long time before Tripp took over. Drake nodded. “I feel regretful about it. Sherman was great in his prime, but he’s not doing real well right now. Slowing down, you might say.”

Tripp got that faint grin on his face. “So, tell us about the student. The one who’s cuter than a pup in a little red wagon. That’s Red talking as you might’ve guessed, via Jim.”

“I already figured that out.” Drake took a long cool drink. It tasted great. “She’s fine. She’s trying—in more ways than one.” Tripp rolled his eyes at the pun, but Drake ignored him. “She’s a pretty graduate student who has no idea what she’s doing.”

“How pretty?” That was Tate, also grinning.

“Very,” he admitted, remembering the gold highlights in her hair.

“That’s what we heard.” Tripp was clearly teasing, but before Drake could respond, he lifted a hand. “I actually think that what she’s doing is important. I’ll bet most of America isn’t even aware we have wild horses, much less that they can be a problem. My two cents’ worth.”

Spence’s arrival stopped the discussion. He slid into the fourth chair at their table. Tall, with a natural air of command that wasn’t overstated, he was both confident and good at his job. “Thelma’s still mad, I take it.”

“She’s steaming,” Drake informed him. “Don’t try to order off the menu, my friend. She’s decided we’re all having the special, whatever that might be.”

“Gotcha.” Spence grimaced. “You should’ve been there when Junie got the call. She’s a seasoned dispatcher and even she was shaking her head. When Thelma asked that I personally respond, Junie threw me under the bus and said I would. Both of my deputies were laughing their asses off.”

They were all laughing, too, but instantly sobered when Thelma showed up with Spence’s beer, glowered at him and asked, “That noninsured yahoo in prison yet?”

“Took him there myself. Straight to the dungeon section. He’s chained to the wall.” Spence said it with a straight face.

Thelma did have a sense of humor and it finally surfaced. “See that he gets no food or water.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Your food will be right up. I’ll bring another round when you start your game. But then I’m cutting you off. Y’all have to drive home.” She stalked back toward the kitchen.

Spence said mildly, “I could point out that I walked from the station and Melody’s having dinner with Hadleigh and Bex, so she’s picking me up. But I think I’m just going to keep my mouth shut.”

“Good idea.” Tripp nodded. Since Hadleigh was his wife and Bex was married to Tate, they were undoubtedly doing the same thing. Drake had planned on having only two beers, anyway, so the decree didn’t bother him at all.

Their weekly poker game usually took a couple of hours. He’d be completely sober when he drove back to the ranch.

The special ended up being chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes and garden-fresh green beans, which meant it was his lucky night. Until he saw who was walking through the front door...

Ms. Lucinda Hale.

Drake couldn’t believe it. She spotted him and waved. She looked different with all that long hair in loose curls and a denim skirt that reached only midthigh, with some sort of frothy pink top that left her slender arms bare. Didn’t matter how she looked, though. She was still his nemesis. Or, if that was too fancy, he could just call her a pain in the butt. Focus. Poker night.

He waved back. What could he do but be polite? Tate narrowed his eyes. “That’s her? The graduate student? Pretty’s an understatement, I’d say.”

“Whatever.” He finished his first beer in a gulp and grumbled, “What she’s doing here, I don’t have a clue.”

“Maybe she heard that Billy serves the best burgers in town and decided to try one.” Tripp looked amused at Drake’s discomfort, especially when Luce started to walk toward them. “Here she comes. No offense, but I’ve never thought you were all that irresistible myself.”

That was not worth responding to.

They all stood when she walked in their direction.

“Hello.” Luce smiled at them, leaving Drake no choice but to introduce everyone. Once that was done, she said, “Please sit down and eat. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Mace is parking the car. Nice to meet all of you.”

About two seconds later, his brother strolled through the door, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face, as if he knew their arrival would annoy the hell out of him. Mace waved a casual hello and Luce went off to join him at a table in the corner, near the antique jukebox.

As if they were on a date or something. It definitely got to him, which he’d have to think about later.

“I guess you’re not the irresistible one, after all.” Tripp was joking, but his gaze was speculative. “You might want to adjust your expression, Carson, because Mace knows you even better than we do and he’ll be able to read it loud and clear.”

“What expression?” He caught the hint of defensiveness in his voice. Damn.

Spence said to Tate, “Two brothers after the same girl. Not a good scenario, is it?”

Tate took a bite and chewed for a minute as though he was thinking it over. “Especially if they live in the same house. Nope, not good at all.”

“I’m not ‘after’ her,” Drake snapped. He knew they were ribbing him, but he was afraid his current level of annoyance wasn’t solely because Mace had deliberately brought her to Billy’s to irritate him. They were best friends, yet they had fought like two male bighorn sheep their entire lives, arguing so much that even Slater had given up trying to tone them down. Unless it got physical, which it had once or twice when they were teens.