Dawson's Stand (Welcome to Covendale Book 4) (2 page)

It was finally over.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome.” Ralph cleared his throat. “Now, as your lawyer, I’m required to advise you to celebrate.”

That got her smiling. “Do I have to sign something for that?”

“Absolutely not. But you do need to have two drinks. One for me, since I can’t be there.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Good.” There was a long pause before he said, “Kyla, before you sign the order—”

“No, Ralph.” She knew exactly what he was going to say. “I don’t want any of his money. Not a single cent. All I want is my freedom, and now I’ve got that.”

He sighed. “But you’re entitled to half. Of millions. You’d never have to worry about anything for the rest of your life.”

“Yes I would.” She didn’t care what she was entitled to, and she hadn’t married him for his money in the first place. It didn’t even matter that agreeing to what communal property laws dictated was hers would enrage him further.

It was blood money, pure and simple. Millions of dollars for three years of hell. And she wouldn’t accept it.

“All right,” Ralph said. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

“I know you do.” She smiled, wishing she could hug him. “Don’t worry. I’m going to be fine, and that’s a promise.”

“You’ll call if you need anything?”

“Absolutely.” They said goodbye and hung up, and she prepared to tell Miss Stella the good news.

Kyla Finley was dead. And now, Kyla Harding could live again.

* * * *

Gage Dawson got out of the passenger side and leaned against his brother’s car, arms folded and a faint scowl on his face. It’d been a long day already, and Mark had been in the Stop ‘n Shop for a good twenty minutes. With the keys, so he couldn’t run the air conditioner.

At least they were finally making progress on the Coleman place, now that Reese Mathers was working with them. Maybe they’d get it finished on deadline after all. Gage still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea that their new hire was now his sister’s fiancé—but it meant that technically, Dawson Construction would still be a family business. Luka was the youngest of the Dawsons, and the first to get married.

She’d probably be the last, too. Mark wasn’t interested in dating, no woman in her right mind would try to be intimate with Jonah, and as for himself…he was having too much fun getting to know as many females as he could. Picking just one would be impossible. In fact, he had a date tonight, and if Mark didn’t hurry the hell up he was going to be late.

Just as Gage decided he’d go into the S&S to see what was taking his brother so long, movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned his head slowly, a sarcastic remark on the tip of his tongue.

But it wasn’t Mark.

“Deputy Dean.” Gage flashed a tight smile. He and Dean Wesley had been mortal enemies since high school, and once Dean got his badge he’d made it his mission to toss Gage into a cell at every opportunity. Most of the time, he hadn’t even done anything—but he was a no-good Dawson boy, and it was his word against Dean’s. So things didn’t generally go his way.

“Dawson.” Dean stopped a few feet away, one hand on his hip. “That’s not your vehicle.”

“Wow. I bet you had to do a lot of police work to figure that one out.” Everyone in town knew Gage drove The Beast, his bright red monster truck. He hadn’t taken it out today because there was a problem with the clutch, and he’d need the weekend to take it apart. “And?”

Dean sneered at him. “You’re loitering. On someone else’s car.”

“It’s my brother’s,” he said, his temper rising fast. If the son of a bitch wasn’t in uniform right now, he’d probably take a swing at him.

Fortunately, he had something better lined up to get back at Deputy Dipshit. His date tonight happened to be Dean’s very recent ex.

“I don’t care whose it is,” Dean said, moving a step closer. “I could take you in right now, on grounds of suspicious activity.”

Gage straightened slowly and leveled a dare-you grin. “Try it.”

“Is there a problem here?”

Dean flinched a little at the sound of Mark’s voice. Too bad he hadn’t come here with Jonah—the deputy would’ve pissed his pants. It did burn him a little that most everyone in town was afraid of his older brothers, but viewed him as a worthless joke. The punchline to the infamous Dawson name. Damn it, he could hold his own in a fight. He’d proven it time and again.

“Just checking on a situation,” Dean said. “Looks like everything’s in order.”

“Yeah. Thanks for checking, Dean.” The sarcasm in Mark’s tone was thick enough to cut. “Maybe you should go investigate that traffic cone over there. It looks pretty suspicious.”

A dark look shadowed the deputy’s features, but he turned and walked away without a word.

Gage shook his head and faced Mark with a grin. “Nice comeback.”

“Get in the car.”

“What’s your problem?”

“Just get in.”

Heaving a sigh, Gage wrenched the door open and slid into the seat. Sometimes he really wished Mark would lighten up. He was always so damned serious—like if he dared to have a little fun, the whole world would stop turning.

Mark put the groceries in the back and climbed in behind the wheel. Without looking at Gage, he said, “You’ve got to stop antagonizing him. He’s a cop.”

“Oh, thanks a lot,” Gage spat. “I didn’t do shit. He started on me.”

“Yeah, and you were ready to finish it.”

“So?”

“So, he’ll haul your ass in. And you know it.” Mark started the engine with an angry twist and backed out of the parking spot. “You need to learn when to back off.”

“Are you going to teach me,
Dad?
”

“Don’t start.”

“Mark, I swear to God—” He cut himself off forcefully and drew a deep breath. “I was just standing there,” he said. “Minding my own business. He came up and started in about how this wasn’t my car, and I was loitering.”

“And what were you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.” Gage folded his arms and sunk in the seat. “I didn’t have to. I’ve already got a way to get back at him.”

“Gage.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m not going to touch him.” He refrained from rolling his eyes. “I’ve got a date with Jenny Steele tonight.”

Mark glared at him. “So you’re going to screw his girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend, as of this morning. And who says I’m going to screw her? It’s just a date.”

“Right,” his brother said tightly. “And it’s not like every date you have ends in someone’s bed.”

Okay, that one stung. “They don’t.”

Mark’s mouth flattened. “Name one.”

“I’m not doing this with you.”

“Well, you’d damn well better start doing it with yourself!” Mark hit the steering wheel hard. “You don’t think, Gage. You just act, and it always lands you in trouble. I’m not bailing you out if that asswipe hauls you in tonight.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to,” he said through clenched teeth.

Mark tensed a minute, and then relaxed with a sigh. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I know Dean’s got a hard-on for busting you, and you don’t deserve it. Most of the time. But…just try to be the better man, all right? You don’t have to let him get to you.”

“Yeah.” Gage clenched a fist and stared out the window. “That’s me. The better man.”

As if he could ever be anything better than the weakest Dawson.

Chapter 2

It didn’t take Kyla long to bring everything into the cottage and get it put away. For a while after she’d settled in, she just wandered from room to room, enjoying the peace and quiet of it all. The security of having her own place and not relying on anyone else. Then she’d made herself some dinner and taken a nice, long bath.

Now it was time for the hard part.

She knew she had to rejoin the world. Living as a recluse had its advantages, but if she kept going like this, she’d forget what it was like to be human. She’d fought too hard for her freedom to let Mike take that away, too. But all that didn’t make the idea of going out and interacting with people any less intimidating.

Two drinks. One for her, one for Ralph. She’d call the taxi service Miss Stella had given her the number for, in case the drinks hit her as hard as she thought they might, and go to the local bar. The Klinker, she was pretty sure it was called. And while she was there, she’d actually talk to people.

If anyone wanted to talk to her.

It took her an hour to decide what to wear. Finally, she settled on black jeans and an oversized blue shirt that matched her eyes. Not the sexiest outfit—but she wasn’t ready to feel sexy yet. Just feeling alive would be enough for tonight.

The taxi arrived right on time, and her heart raced for the entire brief ride into town. When she got out at the bar, she almost turned around and got right back in. But she made herself stand on the sidewalk until the taxi pulled away, and then took a deep breath and walked inside.

It was a small town on a Thursday night, so she’d expected to find a light crowd and not much going on. Instead there were a decent number of people at the bar, in the seating area beside it, and hanging around a bunch of pool tables and dartboards off to the side. Some of the faces were familiar, and she even knew a few names from her other part-time job of delivering the mail on Saturdays.

But aside from a brief and embarrassing conversation with a rancher a few weeks ago, when she’d delivered a certified letter to a place called The Leaning T, she hadn’t actually talked to anyone on her route.

She made her way to the bar and sat on a stool between two other empty ones. It wasn’t long before a male bartender approached her with a friendly smile. “Evening,” he said. “Can I get you something?”

“Um.” Kyla frowned slightly. She hadn’t really thought about much beyond having two drinks. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I’d like…a Sidecar. And another Sidecar.”

The bartender’s brow furrowed. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes. I mean no. That is—” She cut herself off with a sigh, before she could really start babbling. “I’ve never been to your bar,” she said.

“That’s kind of obvious,” he said with a laugh. “I’m Matt, by the way.”

She smiled. “Kyla.”

“Nice to meet you, Kyla. Now, I’ll let you in on a secret.” Matt leaned forward a little and whispered loudly, “I have no idea what a Sidecar is.”

“Oh.” She blinked once. “Well, it’s kind of fruity and sweet. And sour. And…honestly, I don’t know what’s in it.”

“Let’s find out.” With a wink, he pulled out a cell phone and started tapping and swiping. “Okay. Says here it’s got bourbon, triple sec orange, and lemon juice. That sound about right?”

“Yes. Probably.”

Matt tucked the phone in his pocket. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll make you one, and you can try it. Then if you like it I’ll make another one.”

“That works,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Be right back.”

As he walked away, Kyla made herself take a few deep breaths. That wasn’t so bad. Now if she could just get past sounding like a stammering idiot, she might actually make some progress. She turned sideways on the stool, thinking vaguely that she’d scout out the bathrooms in case she needed to bolt.

And found herself staring into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.

Well, at least she didn’t have to worry about stammering this time. She couldn’t speak if she wanted to. The rest of the man who came with the green eyes had arrested her tongue—he was, in a word, beautiful. Thick black hair, a tan that could only come from working outdoors, and the devil’s own smile. He wore an open black shirt, rolled at the sleeves, and a snug white t-shirt beneath that hinted at a powerful build.

“Hello.” His smile turned quizzical, and he arched an eyebrow. “You’re…not who I thought you were. Sorry if I scared you.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Of course it was a case of mistaken identity. Why else would a man like this want to talk to her?

“Hey, don’t apologize. I’m the one who screwed up.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“You’re doing it again.” He grinned and glanced over his shoulder, like he was expecting company. “I might not know you, but I—”

“Hey.”

Kyra almost jumped at the clipped word, which came from the bartender. She hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He set a drink down on the bar in front of her, and gave the other man a look she couldn’t interpret. “Get you something?”

The green-eyed man’s jaw twitched, just for an instant. “Yeah, a Bud Light bottle,” he said. “Thanks.”

Without a word, the bartender walked away.

“Anyway.” The man sighed briefly, then his smile returned. “I feel like I should know you,” he said. “Are you new here?”

She managed to smile back. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“New people stand out in a town this small.” He winked and held a hand out. “I’m Gage, by the way.”

“Kyla. And I’m not so new…I’ve just never been to this bar.” After a brief hesitation, she took his hand.

The warm shock that traveled through her body left her speechless again.

“Kyla.” She thought his voice shook a little, but decided she must’ve imagined it. He couldn’t have felt what she did. It must’ve happened to her just because she hadn’t touched another person in so long. “That’s a great name,” he said. “Er. I mean, it’s nice to meet you.”

For some reason, his stammering made her feel flattered. At least she wasn’t the only one tripping over her tongue tonight. “Nice to meet you, too,” she said. “I’ve never met anyone named Gage before.”

“I’m an original.” He smiled and looked at the glass in front of her. “What are you drinking?” he said. “It looks…different.”

“It’s a Sidecar. I think.”

“You think?”

“The bartender, Matt—he’d never heard of it. So he looked it up for me.” She picked up the drink tentatively. “It’s mostly the right color, anyway.”

Gage laughed. “Well, that’s encouraging.”

She glanced across the bar and saw Matt approaching with an opened bottle. The brief pang of disappointment surprised her. For a few minutes she hadn’t felt awkward talking with Gage—unusual for her, even before the nightmare of her marriage and especially with a complete stranger. But now he’d take his beer and go back to whatever he was doing before.