Hard Lovin' Man

“Horse liniment!” he cried, jerking her to a stop. “I’m no horse.”

She chuckled and gave him a tug, all but dragging him toward the barn where her truck and trailer were now parked. “No, but judging by the show you put on earlier, you could be a distant relation. A jackass,” she explained at his questioning look.

He snorted, then winced at the pain the action caused him.

Chuckling, she slipped her arm from his and opened the side door that led to the trailer’s sleeping quarters. She stepped inside, pausing to flip on a light. Moving easily in the confined space, she opened a cabinet door and pulled down a first-aid kit. When she saw that Travis still stood outside, watching her warily, she gestured for him to join her. “It’s okay, killer,” she said, holding up the box. “I’ve got medications for humans, too.”

Reluctantly he climbed inside. She waved him toward a wide, padded bench that she hoped to someday convert into a bed for use when she was traveling the rodeo circuit. “Have a seat and I’ll take a look.”

He dropped down, his look guarded as he watched her flip open the box and remove a packet.

“Pre-soaked antiseptic gauze,” she said, responding to the suspicion in his eyes.

When she tried to apply the gauze to the cut, he reared his head back and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “You hurt me,” he warned, meeting her gaze, “and I’ll have to hurt you back.”

The strength in his hand surprised her, but it was the emotion in his brown eyes that had the breath backing up in her lungs. Anger, frustration, concern. They all churned there, but it was his concern—a concern she instinctively attributed to his lingering worry over his brother’s marriage—that squeezed at her heart. Hoping to distill the sympathy she felt building, she teased, “Sissy.”

His scowl deepened, but he loosened his grip on her hand.

Mindful of his warning, though she sensed he wasn’t the kind of man who would make good the threat, she kept her touch gentle as she dabbed the gauze at the cut, cleaning it. “That brother of yours has a mean right hook.”

“Lucky punch,” he muttered disagreeably.

She bit back a smile. “Maybe,” she conceded, and continued to cleanse the wound. “Was it really worth all this to try to stop his wedding?”

“It would’ve been if I’d succeeded.”

“You said he was crazy.”

“Poor choice of words.”

“What is he, then?”

“Confused. Grieving.” He sighed heavily. “He lost his son and his ex-wife in an automobile accident less than a year ago. He’s been on the run ever since.”

“Tough break.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“So you think he’s marrying on the rebound?”

“It’s a possibility. A strong one.”

“He sounded sincere enough to me.”

“Maybe,” he said doubtfully.

With a shrug of apparent indifference, Lacey tossed aside the strip of gauze and picked up another.

Travis watched her, frowning, wishing he shared her detachment. But he didn’t. Jack was his brother. His twin brother. And when Jack hurt, so did he. Jack’s first marriage had left scars that Travis felt partially responsible for, and the accident that had stolen his son had left his brother—in Travis’s opinion—emotionally unstable. As a result, he felt duty-bound to see that his brother wasn’t hurt again.

He sighed heavily, feeling the frustration building. He didn’t want to think about his brother’s current emotional state any more, or his own failure to stop the wedding.

And the woman who was nursing his cuts offered just the distraction he needed to forget his troubles for awhile. A tight little butt, small waist, full ripe breasts. Sensuous lips pursed in concentration.

His own lips began to curve upward as she moved to stand between his spread knees again. Yeah, she was just the distraction he needed. Pleased with his current situation, he laid his head back and closed his eyes, prepared to enjoy the feminine attention. He felt her fingers graze his temple as she combed back his hair, then the weight of her hand when she pressed her palm against the side of his head, holding his hair out of her way. Soothed by her touch, he inhaled deeply…and filled his senses with her. No flowery perfumes for this woman, he reflected, fully relaxed now. Just soap, sunshine and pure woman.

Intrigued by her and by the brief story John Lee had shared with him about her questionable ancestry, he opened his eyes to study her. The light was behind her and left shadows on her face, but he could see well enough to make out her features. Wide green eyes framed by long dark lashes, a cute button of a nose with a light sprinkling of freckles across its bridge. Full sensuous lips, a stubborn chin.

A face full of contradictions.

As he decided this, she placed a finger beneath his chin and angled his face toward the light, furrowing her forehead in concern.

“That cut’s pretty deep,” she said uneasily. “You might need a couple of stitches.”

“Can you sew?”

Startled by the question, she shifted her gaze to his. “No,” she said, then bit back a smile when she saw that he was teasing. She glanced at the cut again and sighed, shaking her head. “But without stitches, you’re going to have a scar.”

“It’ll just add character.”

She shrugged as she straightened. “It’s your face.”

“And a handsome one, huh?”

She snorted a laugh and tossed aside the square of soiled cotton. “Watch it. Your ego’s showing.”

He caught her hand, and pulled her back around to face him. “Are you a nurse?”

Standing so close, Lacey had to admit that he was right. He did have a handsome face. And, fat lip or not, the sexiest smile she believed she’d ever seen.

Uncomfortably aware of the hand that held hers, she eased free and reached for the antiseptic cream. “No. I’m a barrel racer.” She squeezed a dollop of cream onto her finger and leaned to smear it on the cut.

“A barrel racer, huh? Too bad. You’d have made a good nurse. You’ve got a nice touch.”

Not knowing what to say in reply, she remained silent as she dabbed the cream along the wound.

“You’re Lacey, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’d have guessed right off.”

“Guessed what?” she asked absently, concentrating on keeping the cream on the cut and out of his eye.

“That you’re a McCloud.”

She jerked her hand away and straightened, staring down at him. “How?”

“You look just like ’em.”

Frowning, she tore her gaze from his and grabbed a rag to wipe the cream from her fingers. “No, I don’t.”

When he laughed, she shot him a look sharp enough to fillet a fish…but he just smiled. “Sorry, but you do.”

“I do not,” she repeated firmly.

“Yeah, you do.” When she huffed a breath, he laughed again. “I didn’t mean that as an insult. Hell, they’re all beautiful women.” He watched her rip open a bandage, her jerky movements reflecting her agitation, and added, “But I guess, being a woman, you wouldn’t have noticed that.” Her scowl deepened as she leaned to place the bandage over the cut. “Now, take me for instance—” he began, then flinched when she pressed the bandage into place.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“No harm done,” he said and continued with his observation. “I noticed right off how pretty they were, and I knew immediately that they were sisters.”

“How? They don’t look a thing alike.”

“Their colorings different, and they’re built differently, but the similarities are there.”

Having completed her first aid, she gave him a nudge with her hip, making room for herself on the bench, then dropped down beside him. Pulling the kit to her lap, she started replacing the supplies. “Enlighten me.”

“The way they walk, the way they talk. They’re all three strong women, sure of themselves and each other and their place in the family unit.”

Lacey snorted and closed the lid with a snap. “Well, if that’s what you’re basing your assessment on, you’re wrong, because I don’t have a place in this family.”

“Yeah, you do.” He grinned when she turned to glare at him. “You just haven’t found it, yet.”

“Yeah, right,” she muttered and stood, stretching to replace the kit in the cabinet.

Travis watched her, noticing the way her shirt molded those firm breasts, the tiny waist, the slender hips, the long stretch of muscular legs. He appreciated a beautiful woman, always had, and he considered the one he was currently looking at a prime example of the gender.

Deciding the trip to the Double-Cross might not be a total loss after all, he smiled as he took advantage of her precarious position and bumped his foot against her left boot, knocking her off-balance. She sucked in a startled breath, flailing her arms in an attempt to recover…but dropped neatly into his lap, just as he’d planned.

He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and snugged her back against his chest, nuzzling his nose in her hair. “Is this a bed I’m sitting on?” he whispered at her ear.

She held her body rigid against his. “Y-yes.”

“Is it big enough for two to lie down on?”

“N-no.”

“That’s okay,” he said, and nipped playfully at her earlobe, “’cause I was kinda hoping you’d be stretched out on top of me, anyway.”

Two

Lacey wasn’t sure who she was madder at. Travis for making a pass at her, or herself for being tempted by it.

She quickly decided it was Travis who deserved her anger.

“Of all the nerve,” she muttered darkly as she stalked down the long hall in search of Mandy. Imagine him making a move like that, and after she’d been nice enough to doctor his wounds for him, too. And he’d called his brother crazy. She snorted in disgust. In her opinion, Travis was the one with the mental problem.

She stopped at the door one of the guests had directed her to, and drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down before she stepped inside for the long-awaited meeting with her half sisters.

Mandy rose with a sigh of relief from behind a massive desk. “I was afraid you’d given up on us and left.”

Feigning nonchalance, Lacey lifted a shoulder. “Thought about it.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement and glanced over to find Merideth and Sam sitting on the couch. Sam smiled at her. Merideth, her lips pursed in displeasure, merely lifted a neatly arched brow.

Mandy gestured toward a wingback chair placed at an angle to both the sofa and the desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Feeling much like she had at the age of twelve when she’d been called to the principal’s office for putting a frog in Elizabeth Conners’s lunchbox, Lacey dropped down onto the edge of the chair and wiped damp palms down her thighs.

Mandy sat too. “I apologize for the delay, but—” She laughed and sank wearily against the chair’s back, lacing her fingers over her abdomen. “It’s been rather an unusual day.”

“You can say that again,” Lacey replied dryly.

“Why don’t you tell us about yourself,” Mandy suggested, offering a warm smile of encouragement.

“You mean, about my relationship to Lucas?”

“Well, yes,” Mandy said and shrugged self-consciously. “Naturally, we have a few questions.”

“I doubt I have any answers.”

With a humph, Merideth folded her arms across her breasts. “Some proof that you’re Lucas’s daughter would be nice.”

“Merideth!” Sam and Mandy exclaimed, mortified by her rudeness.

Their sister flung out an arm, sending the gold bangles on her wrist clinking musically as she gestured toward Lacey. “Well, how do you know she isn’t some scam artist who’s trying to steal a piece of the Double-Cross?”

Mandy gave Merideth a quelling look before turning to Lacey, her expression softening with regret. “I’m sorry, but surely you must realize how difficult this is for us all.”

Though Merideth’s comment had stung, Lacey fought back the resentment, knowing that of all the reactions her claim to be Lucas’s daughter had drawn, Merideth’s was the most logical. “No apology necessary. I’d probably want the same, if I were in y’all’s position.” She lifted her hands, palms up. “But I don’t have the proof you want. Only what my mother told me.”

Mandy leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk. “And what was that?”

“Just that she met Lucas at a horse show when she was nineteen. I don’t know how old he would’ve been at the time, but I’m twenty-three, so you can do the math. They had an affair. A brief one. I was the by-product,” she added bitterly.

Though she would have liked nothing better than to end the explanation there, she took a deep breath and forced herself to go on, hoping that once they heard it all, they would allow her to leave in peace. “When my mother discovered she was pregnant, she contacted Lucas and demanded that he marry her. He refused. My mother had been dating another man off and on for a while, both before and after Lucas, and he agreed to marry her instead. I didn’t know until my twenty-first birthday that the man she’d married wasn’t my father.”

As she listened, Mandy puckered her brow in confusion. “Why did your mother wait until you were twenty-one to tell you the truth of your parentage?”

“She probably wouldn’t have told me then, but she had no other choice.” She sat up straighter, refusing to let the pain of Lucas’s rejection show. “Lucas didn’t want me, but he set up a trust fund for me that became mine on my twenty-first birthday.”

“You’ve known for two years that Lucas was your father?”

Lacey glanced at Sam, who had asked the question, and slowly nodded.

“So why did you wait until now to come here?” Merideth snapped peevishly.

Lacey narrowed an eye as she shifted her gaze to Merideth’s. “It took me that long to get past the hate.”

Silence hummed in the room for a full thirty seconds as the two women engaged in a stubborn staring match. Lacey was the one to break it. She turned to Mandy, her eyes darkened in anger. “My turn to ask a question. Why is it that no one, other than her,” she said, with a jerk of her head in Merideth’s direction, “seems to doubt my claim to be Lucas’s daughter?”

“I don’t doubt your claim,” Merideth cut in. “It’s your motive that I question.”

Lacey was on her feet, her eyes blazing, before Mandy or Sam could chastise their sister again for her rudeness. “If you think I’m here to claim a part of this ranch, you’re wrong.” She jammed a hand in her pocket, jerked out a folded piece of paper and slapped it on the desk in front of Mandy. “That’s my check for the twenty-five thousand Lucas put in trust for me, plus the interest it earned over the years. My only purpose in coming here today was to shove it down his throat and tell him I don’t need him or his money.”

Mandy rose, her eyes filled with compassion. “Oh, Lacey. I’m so sorry. Lucas was a—”

“Mom!” Jaime, Mandy’s son, burst into the room, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear. “Come quick. Billy fell off the top bunk and he’s bleeding really bad.”

Sam and Merideth jumped up and ran for the door, followed quickly by Jaime. Mandy snatched up the check and rounded the desk. She stopped in front of Lacey and grabbed her hand, pressing the check into it. “This is yours.”

Fighting back tears, Lacey tried to pull free. “I don’t want Lucas’s money or anything else that was his.”

Mandy forced Lacey’s fingers to curl around the check. “Believe me. I understand how you feel. But Lucas owes you a lot more than this.”

“Mom!” Jaime yelled from the hallway. “Hurry!”

Mandy squeezed Lacey’s fist between her hands. “God, I’m sorry to keep doing this to you, but Billy is one of Alayna and Jack’s children and our responsibility while they’re on their honeymoon. If you could wait for just a little while longer.”

Then she was gone, leaving Lacey alone in the office.

Lacey drew in a shaky breath as she continued to stare at her fist, still able to feel the warmth and compassion of Mandy’s hands around it. Her sister. Half sister, she corrected. She let her head loll back, closing her eyes as emotion rose to burn her throat.

Oh, God, she’d always wanted a sister, the support and love of a caring family. But why did she have to find it here, in the home of the man who had rejected her?

Gulping back the sob that threatened, she forced her eyes open…and found herself looking straight into the eyes of Lucas McCloud.

She knew it was Lucas in the portrait, though there was nothing that identified the man as such. The eyes that stared back at her were the same green as her own, the same green as Mandy’s. But the artist had captured a hardness, a coldness in his eyes that was lacking in Mandy’s…and she hoped in hers. Drawn by her first glimpse of the man who had sired her, she moved closer to the portrait.

He sat astride a stallion, black as midnight, who stood on the edge of a high cliff. Blue sky surrounded them, and nothing but sheer rock lay below. There was an arrogance, a wildness about both horse and rider, that she could almost feel. A shiver chased down her spine as she stared unblinking at the man who had shunned her.

She could see why her mother had given herself to him. He was handsome, dangerously so, and projected an image as big as the state he called home. She felt the tears burn in her throat, behind her eyes, in her nose. He’d rejected his own daughter without even knowing her, refused to give her his name when he knew full well that she was of his blood. Her fingers curled, crumpling the check within her clenched fist.

“Bastard,” she whispered. She threw the balled paper onto the desk and whirled, turning her back on Lucas McCloud as he had on her so many years before.

Mandy picked up the wad of paper from the desk and smoothed it open over her palm. “She’s gone,” she said, her voice heavy with regret as she lifted her gaze to look at her sisters. “And she left the check.”

Merideth caught her lower lip between her teeth. “It’s my fault. I was rude. Cruel.”

Sam slung an arm around her shoulders. “Nah, you were just being you.”

Merideth whipped her head around and gave Sam a scathing look. Chuckling, Sam hugged her younger sister to her side. “Ah, come on, Sis. You know you’re our balance. If left up to Mandy, we’d already be preparing the fatted calf and welcoming Lacey into the fold, while I’d be stuttering and stammering, trying to figure out what to do with her.”

Pensively, Mandy tapped the check against her palm as she rounded the desk. “Sam’s right, Merideth. It isn’t your fault. But we’ve got to find her. She’s a McCloud. There’s no questioning that.” She turned to look at her father’s portrait and drew in a ragged breath. “For whatever reason, Lucas chose to deny her.” She stared at the portrait a moment, then tore her gaze from the picture of the man who had made all his daughters’ lives a living hell, and faced her sisters. “But we’re not,” she stated firmly. “She’s family.” She drew in a deep breath. “But first we’ve got to find her.” Moving to stand before the window, she looked out at the darkness beyond, her brow furrowed. “Oh, my God!” she cried, her eyes suddenly widening.

“What is it?” Sam asked in alarm.

Mandy whirled. “She’s at the barn,” she cried, racing for the door. “Hurry! We’ve got to stop her before she leaves.”

Lacey’s horse danced nervously as she led him from the borrowed stall where Mandy’s son had placed him earlier that afternoon. “It’s okay, Buddy,” she murmured softly, tightening her grip on the lead rope. “We’re going home.”

She led him through the barn’s wide doors and out into the moonlit night. But once outside, the horse’s uneasiness seemed to increase. He reared, nearly jerking Lacey off her feet. She quickly put slack in the line, and kept her voice low and soothing as she tried to calm him. “Too much strangeness, huh, Buddy? But it’s okay now. We’re heading home.”

He snorted and tossed his head, prancing nervously around her as she slowly drew in the slack. When she was within reach, she stretched out a hand and rubbed his cheek, trying to calm him. Though he stilled, his head remained high, his ears pricked, his eyes wild and darting.

“There’s nothing out here that’s going to get you,” she soothed. “Come on, Buddy,” she urged and gave a gentle tug on the lead rope. “Let’s load you in the trailer and we’ll hit the road.”

He followed skittishly, keeping tension on the line while he danced from side to side behind her. At the rear of the trailer, Lacey paused to swing open the double doors.

And heard Mandy call out to her.

“Lacey! Wait!”

“Come on, Buddy,” she urged, panic surging through her. “In you go.”

But the horse balked, sitting back on his haunches and pulling hard against the lead. Frustrated, she slapped the end of the rope across his rump. “Come on, Buddy,” she cried, anxious to get away. “Get in there!”

At that moment, an armadillo darted from beneath the trailer and straight into the horse’s path. The gelding reared, pawing at the air, then bolted forward, while the armadillo scuttled off into the darkness. Lacey jumped sideways, trying to get out of the horse’s way, but the frightened animal slammed into her side, knocking her down. She hit the ground hard, grunting when her left hip took the brunt of the fall. With her face pressed into the dirt, she heard the dull thud of flesh hitting metal, then the horse’s scream of pain. Her heart in her throat, she clawed her way to her feet. Dragging her sleeve across her face to clear the grit and tears from her eyes, she saw her horse standing ten feet away. He was trembling, blood oozing from a long gash on his shoulder.

Her breath burned painfully in her chest. “Buddy,” she whispered brokenly. She limped slowly toward him, stooping to pick up the end of the lead rope. She straightened, lifting her hand to fist her fingers in his mane, then bent to examine the cut. “Oh, God, Buddy, what have you done?” she sobbed, and buried her face against his neck.

“Lacey.”

She felt a hand go around her shoulders while another gently pried the lead rope from her fingers. Sobbing, she was pulled into Mandy’s arms.

“He’s h-hurt,” she cried, trying to push away. “I’ve got to take care of him.”

“I know, honey,” Mandy soothed, refusing to let her go. “But Sam’s a vet. She’ll know what to do.”

It would have been so easy to cling, to let someone else take charge, to give in to the warmth and comfort she’d been denied so long. But Lacey had been taking care of herself and what was hers for too many years to relinquish the control to someone else. Especially a McCloud. She sniffed furiously and backed from Mandy’s embrace, wiping a hand beneath her nose. She turned and saw Sam kneeling beside Buddy, while Jaime stood at the horse’s head, holding the animal steady.

Gulping back the sob that threatened, she limped across the short distance that separated them and dropped to her knees beside Sam. “How bad is it?” she asked, unable to keep the trembling from her voice.

“It’s deep,” Sam replied, frowning in concentration as she smoothed a skilled hand down the horse’s leg, checking for other injuries. “But not as bad as I first thought.” She glanced up at her nephew. “Get my bag out of my truck, Jaime. And I’ll need some antibiotic. There should be a vial in the refrigerator in the barn.”

Her eyes wide with fear, Lacey watched Jaime jog away into the night. “Can I haul him?” she asked anxiously, turning back to Sam.

“I wouldn’t.”

“But I have a rodeo next weekend.”

Sam must have heard the desperation in her voice, because she spun slowly on the balls of her feet to face Lacey. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay off of him longer than that.”

Tears flooded Lacey’s eyes, and Sam laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you stay here with us?” When Lacey opened her mouth to refuse, Sam squeezed. “Give him a week to heal. And a week for us to get to know you,” she added softly.

Her hands still shook a little as Lacey made the turn at the Y in the road as Mandy had directed. On the seat beside her lay the key to the cabin, the concession she’d agreed to when Mandy had refused to allow her to drive into Austin to stay in a motel. Though all three of the McCloud sisters had offered her their homes, Lacey had refused their hospitality. The thought of the intimacy required in living for a week with any one of them was more than she felt she could handle. Her emotions were too raw, and much too close to the surface. Besides, she knew they’d already divvied up Jack and Alayna’s six foster children between them and would have their hands full caring for them while the newlyweds were on their honeymoon. She didn’t want to be a burden…but more, she didn’t want to be in their debt.