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Dropping The Hammer
Dropping The Hammer
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Dropping The Hammer

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“Urgent and crisis-filled, as usual, though I plan not to think about that his weekend. I’m only a few miles from Winding Creek now. I’ll be there for dinner with Esther and the rest of the family. When are you arriving?”

When was she arriving? Oh, God. “This is the weekend of Grace’s baby shower, isn’t it?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot, Rachel.”

“Okay. I won’t tell you. When is the shower?”

“Tomorrow afternoon at three. It’s at Dani’s Delights. Dani is closing the bakery early for the party. It’s a really big deal. Half the women in town are coming. Everybody loves Grace.”

“Me included,” Rachel said, “but...”

“She’ll be very disappointed if you’re not here. Besides, you and I haven’t gotten together since Christmas. I’m really looking forward to seeing you.”

“Yeah. I’d like to see you, too,” she admitted, suddenly realizing just how much. “I’ll start out early in the morning. I’m far too tired to make that drive tonight.”

“Super, though I was hoping you’d taken the afternoon off and were coming in tonight so we could have one of our all-talk and no-sleep slumber parties the way we used to.”

“You mean back before you had a gorgeous husband to keep you entertained at night?”

“Right. But he’s competing in a rodeo in Longview tonight and tomorrow morning, so he won’t make it here until late tomorrow afternoon. The good news is we’re both taking Monday and Tuesday off.”

“So I’m second choice?”

“Yep. But I just checked the radar and it shows a line of thundershowers moving into the area over the next few hours, so it’s just as well you’re not driving this way now.”

“I do hate driving in the rain.”

“You did forget, though. I mean, there’s nothing going on there that made you have second thoughts about coming?”

Sydney never took things at face value. It was all that FBI training, Rachel expected. But her insight hit too close to home far too often.

“What are you intimating, my crime-fighting sister?”

“Just wondering if it’s the thought of returning to Winding Creek that’s really bothering you.”

“No,” she lied. “I’m fine with Winding Creek.”

“Then promise you’re not going to make some new excuse to get out of coming tomorrow so you can stay home and work. You need a break.”

Yes, she did. She hadn’t intended to just blurt out her news, but there was no real reason to keep it a secret.

“I know you’re sitting down, since you’re driving,” Rachel said, “but prepare yourself for a shock.”

“You’ve met a man?”

“Gads. That’s the last thing I need.”

“A matter of opinion. Then what is it?”

“I will no longer be overworking. As of about thirty minutes ago, I don’t have a job or a career. I did make off with a few company pens, though, as I stormed out of the building.”

“You got fired?”

“No. I beat old Fitch to it. I quit.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. In fact, I may be as shocked as you that I quit, but it felt right. Still does. But also a bit scary.”

“I can’t wait to hear all the details. But let me just say, I’m in favor of the decision. And you haven’t lost a career permanently. You’re still a dynamite attorney. You’ll land on your feet somewhere where they don’t expect you to give up sleep permanently in exchange for billable hours.”

“I hope you’re right. We’ll talk more when I get there.”

“Now I really can’t wait to see you. Actually, the whole family will be thrilled to see you again. Esther asks about you every time we talk.”

Esther was a jewel. So were all three of the Lawrence brothers and their families who had come home to Winding Creek and to Esther Kavanaugh.

The only problem was that the warm and loving family members were Sydney’s in-laws—not Rachel’s.

“Don’t mention my quitting my job to anyone else just yet.”

“I’ll have to tell Tucker. We talk about everything, but I’ll tell him to keep it under his hat.”

Rachel’s new life was off and running—ready or not.

* * *

RACHEL KEPT HER eyes on the passing scenery, watching for the gate to the Double K Ranch. All things considered, she was feeling surprisingly upbeat, or at least several notches above gloom.

Perhaps the reality that she was unemployed for the first time since she’d graduated from law school hadn’t fully sunk in. Or maybe Sydney was right about her needing a mental, emotional and physical break from the stress that Fitch, Fitch and Baumer provided.

The sun claimed dominance over a few cumulus clouds. Michael Bublé was crooning on her car’s radio. And she was actually going to spend two full days with her sister instead of driving back home on Sunday morning to a crush of paperwork.

She basically had nothing on her plate in the foreseeable future except freedom and possibly a few hours doing wrap-up at the office. She’d offered two weeks’ notice. A shocked and irritated Eric Fitch Sr. had said that wasn’t necessary.

All he needed was a verbal agreement that she would answer any questions that might arise concerning cases she’d been involved with. Eric Fitch Jr. had come by while she was collecting her personal belongings and tried to talk her into staying, assuring her he’d cleared the offer with his dad.

He’d offered a raise. She’d been tempted, but not enough to stay.

Lost in her thoughts again, she almost missed the Double K’s metal gate and had to throw on her brakes to keep from passing it by. She made the turn too fast, skidding across a wet patch of grass that bordered the ranch road.

She slowed and stopped at the closed and latched gate. Esther had talked about putting in an automatic gate opener to save herself having to get out in the weather. Obviously that was still on her to-do list. Neither weather nor much else slowed down Esther Kavanaugh.

Rachel switched the gear to Park but kept the motor running. She’d opened the door and was about to climb from behind the wheel when she was startled by the clattering engine noise of another vehicle.

She checked the rearview mirror. An old, mud-encrusted pickup truck had made the turn and had followed her to the gate. The male driver stopped mere inches behind her, blocking her between his front bumper and the closed gate.

She jerked her door closed and pushed the lock button. Her heart pounded against the walls of her chest. Her lungs burned. Her stomach churned sickeningly.

The driver got out of his truck and started toward her. She switched the gear to Drive and poised her foot on the accelerator. If he so much as touched her car, she would ram through the gate, knocking it from its hinges. She wouldn’t stop until she reached Esther’s house.

As the man neared, he smiled and tipped his gray Stetson. Nothing about him looked dangerous. His smile was anything but threatening. Telling herself that only barely eased her surge of apprehension.

She clutched the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white.

The cowboy sauntered past her locked door, walked to the front of her car and unlatched the gate. He was opening the door for her. She took a deep breath and let her fingers relax their hold on the steering wheel.

The gate swung open and the cowboy motioned her through—an extremely good-looking cowboy, though she hadn’t noticed that before. She lowered her window and waved as she drove past him.

Her pulse was back to near normal by the time she reached the rambling ranch house. The sight of Esther’s house had a further calming effect on her.

Colorful pillows adorned the wide porch swing. Painted rocking chairs were pulled up to a round table topped with a pot of colorful pansies. A clump of sweet alyssum huddled next to the steps. Winter jasmine climbed the railings on the north end of the porch.

Rachel parked in the gravel drive on the far side of the house, a recent addition that kept visitors from dodging mud holes on mornings such as this.

Once more, the cowboy parked behind her. This time she waited for him to get out of the truck. The unwarranted panic attack had passed.

“Thanks for handling the gate chores,” she said.

“My pleasure.” He pointed to his worn Western boots. “Those high-heeled fancy boots you’re wearing don’t look like they’d take too well to mud. These goat-ropers are made for chunking through whatever they face.”

“Goat-roper?”

“Just a term. I don’t really rope goats in them—not that I couldn’t.”

“I’ll bet.”

He extended his hand. “Luke Dawkins. The prodigal son of Alfred Dawkins, returning to Winding Creek for duty.”

She slid her hand into his much larger one. An unexpected wave of awareness zinged through her. That frightened her almost as much as her initial reaction to him had. “Rachel Maxwell. I’m Sydney Lawrence’s sister, just visiting—no duty.”

She waited for the look of pity that frequently followed the act of telling anyone her name. There was none. Evidently he didn’t know of her past. The chances were slim to none she could keep it that way.

They started up the wide wooden steps to the porch together. Their arms brushed. Her first impulse was to pull away from him. She didn’t.

Before she had time to ring the bell, the door opened and Sydney appeared, with Esther a step behind. “You made it,” Esther said.

Sidney spotted Luke and looked shocked. “And you bought a guest.”

“Not intentionally,” Luke said. “I’m just a stray who followed her home. Luke Dawkins.”

“A prodigal son,” Rachel offered to fill a sudden, awkward silence on Sydney’s part.

“Well, of course you are,” Esther said, pushing to the front. “You haven’t changed a bit, Luke, except for that facial hair. Just threw me off that you arrived with our Rachel.”

“What can I say? When a beautiful woman shows up, I don’t argue with fate.”

“You’re in your dad’s truck,” Esther said, leaning over to look past them. “Hope that’s not all you have to get around in. To hear Alfred tell it, it only runs half the time.”

“I was afraid it wouldn’t make it here,” Luke admitted. “But I have my own truck back at the ranch, so if this one makes it back home, I’ll park it and leave it until I can get it tuned up.”

Luke touched a hand to the small of Rachel’s back as they stepped inside.

Once again, her nerves zinged.

It couldn’t get any crazier than this.

Chapter Five (#u233b9fe2-90b4-590a-aef2-79feae13f7c7)

Luke’s ego took a blow. He was definitely the odd man out where the two sisters were concerned. They were both talking at once, the topics changing as fast as if this were a game-show lightning round. He didn’t even try to keep up.

Within ten minutes Sydney and Rachel excused themselves to go wrap gifts for an afternoon baby shower. Luke watched Rachel walk away. She was hot as a bonfire and there was no gold band on her ring finger.

If he were planning to stick around awhile, he’d hit on her big-time, though she was probably miles out of his league. But as soon as he figured out what to do about his father and the Arrowhead Hills Ranch, he was out of here.

Unless Alfred kicked him out sooner.

“It’s good to have you here in my house again after so many years,” Esther said once they were alone. “You’ve grown into a fine-looking young man. Your mother would have been mighty proud of you.”

“Thanks. Being here reminds me of her.”

“She was a very special woman, one of the best friends I’ve had in my life, even though she was a couple of decades younger and had four times the energy I did. I miss her to this day, but it’s probably not the best time for going all syrupy. I know you’re here to talk about Alfred’s problems.”

“I am,” he agreed. “I still don’t know much more than what you told me on the phone. The rehab center is not big on giving out information other than what’s on his chart. Assisted shower at eight. Occupational therapy scheduled for one. That and other equally unhelpful info.”

“Did you talk to the medical supervisor where he’s staying or the doctor who cared for him in the hospital?”

“I’ve talked to both with equally worthless results. The doctor quoted some medical jargon to describe the stroke and possible causes but didn’t give me anything definite on the prognosis. He insisted there was no way to be certain at this point if or how long Alfred would need permanent care. I’m supposed to meet with the medical supervisor this afternoon.”

“You’re driving to San Antonio today?”

“Yep. I need to see his condition for myself and at least let him know I’m here for him—if he cares.”

“I visited him again Wednesday,” Esther said. “He’s throwing a fit to go home, but he can’t get around well enough to take care of himself. He definitely can’t handle cooking chores or bathing and shaving.”

“Then you think he’ll need someone with him twenty-four hours a day?”

“At least at first, and I predict he’ll go through the ceiling if you suggest he go anywhere when he leaves the rehab facility except back to the ranch.”

“A ranch he can’t take care of on his own. He’ll have to hire someone to manage everything, and unless he’s changed a lot in eleven years, he’s not good at delegating authority.” Luke couldn’t see any way this was going to turn out well.

“I have a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen,” Esther said. “Will you have a cup with me?”

“Sure.” He needed a beer more, but it was still morning and he had a visit with Alfred staring him in the face, so he’d stick with the caffeine.

He followed her to the kitchen.

“Cream or sugar?”