Make Mine a Bad Boy (29 page)

Disconcerted, she scrambled to her feet. “Sherman. His name is Sherman.”

“Hey, Sherman.” Colt leaned down and scratched the pig’s back until it snuffled with delight and rooted against his legs. With a laugh, he straightened and reached a hand out to Ethan. “How you doing, Ethan? Your mama still make the best chocolate chip cookies this side of the Pecos?”

“She shore does, Colt,” Ethan replied without hesitation. “But I would’ve thought that you got your fill of them all those nights we worked late at Josephine’s.”

“Not even close. If it wasn’t for your mama packing food for me, I wouldn’t have had the energy to stay awake.” Colt glanced between the two of them. “I didn’t interrupt anything important, did I?”

“No!” Hope jumped in before Ethan could start stammering again. “Ethan just brought me a present.”

One dark eyebrow hiked up as Colt looked down at the pig.

“Well, I guess I better get on back.” Ethan nodded at Colt before looking over at Hope. “Uhhh… bye, Hope.”

“Good-bye, Ethan. And thank you so much for Sherman.”

“You’re shore welcome.” He ambled back down the street.

When he was gone, Hope flopped down on the bench and stared at the pig, which had tipped over her cup of coffee and was now licking the liquid off the concrete.

“Is coffee good for pigs?” Colt asked as he took a seat next to her.

“It’s decaf.” She hooked the end of the leash over the arm of the bench.

After watching the pig polish off the last drop, Colt glanced over at her. “Another marriage bribe?”

“Yes, but thankfully Ethan didn’t get to the actual proposal.” She turned to him. “You washed dishes at Josephine’s with Ethan? How come I never saw you?”

“Probably because I showed up after you were gone.” He grabbed the leash and pulled Sherman away from the blob of gum that the pig was trying to get up off the sidewalk. “And I didn’t do dishes, I cleaned the toilets.”

Confused, she stared at him. “But I thought your mama cleaned—you helped her?”

He looked away, and she watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall. “I didn’t help my mother, Hope. I did it for her because she was too drunk to do it herself.”

Drunk? Hope didn’t have a lot of memories of Abby Lomax, but what she did have weren’t of a falling-down drunk. Mrs. Lomax had been quiet and soft-spoken with hair as jet black as her son’s and eyes as green as Shirlene’s. She moved slower than Hope’s mama and wasn’t much of a housekeeper or a cook. But once she had helped Hope
and Shirlene make Kleenex dresses for their Barbies and, another time, paper chains for their Christmas trees. Although, now that Hope thought about it, there was that time Mrs. Lomax had taken a nap by the front steps. And the time she came outside while they were playing in the Chevy in nothing but her bra and panties. And it did explain why she looked so tired and sick in the mornings. And why Hope had never been invited to spend the night.

Hope tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing to say. Especially when staring into those beautiful gray eyes. She knew a lot of Colts—the Cocky Colt, the Teasing Colt, the Spiteful Colt—but the honest, sincere man sitting next to her, she didn’t recognize.

But before Hope could make sense of his behavior, her mama came out of the Feed and Seed looking worried and flustered. “Your daddy just called. They’ve laid off a bunch of people at Dalton.”

“What?” Hope jumped up, and Colt had to grab her to keep her from tripping over the pig’s leash. “Daddy? Did they lay off Daddy?”

“No,” her mama shook her head. “But they laid off fifty others.”

“Fifty.” Hope felt her knees give out. Luckily, Colt still held on to her.

“Jenna, why don’t you take Hope on home?” He pulled the cell phone from his back pocket. “I’ll call Lyle and find out what’s going on.”

“I’m not going home.” Hope pulled away from him. She had let Lyle get away with his lies once; she wasn’t about to do it again. “I’m staying right here until I get some answers.”

“And it looks like you’re not the only one.” Her mama
nodded at the cars that had started to fill the parking lot of Josephine’s Diner.

Colt sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine.” He handed the leash to her mama, who looked surprised to find a pig on the end of it. “But I don’t want you adding to the panic, Hope. If the town is going to pull out of this, we need to keep cool heads.”

“This coming from the biggest hothead in Bramble.”

He flashed her a warning look as they started across the street. “I mean it, Hope. People will be hysterical enough as it is.”

The diner was packed by the time they walked through the door. And Colt was right; there was mass hysteria. Everyone seemed to be talking at once. Harley’s mustache was bouncing. Sheriff Winslow’s mouth was flapping. And Rachel Dean looked like she hadn’t come up for air in a good hour.

“Get their attention, Hope, and keep it,” Colt instructed, as he punched a button on his phone.

Hope looked around at the panicked townspeople. “And just how do you suggest I do that?”

“I’m sure the Sweetheart of Bramble will think of something. All I need is five minutes to talk with Lyle and figure out what’s going on, and I don’t want a lynch mob forming before I do.” Without waiting for a reply, he headed back out the door.

Hope stared at the mayhem for only a second before she let out the hog call that had won her five trophies and an honorable mention. When it stopped resounding from the walls, every person in Josephine’s had turned to her. But now that she had their attention, she didn’t have a clue what to say.

“Hi, y’all.” She smiled brightly.

“Sorry, Hope,” Harley held up a hand, “we don’t have time for pleasantries. Dalton Oil just laid off fifty workers.”

“Oh.” She chewed on her lip as she struggled to come up with something to say to that. When they started to turn away, she blurted out the first thing she could think of. “Well, I guess that’s much more important than the identity of my baby’s father.”

Rachel hurried out from behind the counter. “Now, honey, I’m sure Harley didn’t realize what you wanted to talk about. Of course, we have time to listen to our sweetheart.” She patted the red vinyl of an empty bar stool. “Now you just come right on over here and tell us all about that lowlife who did you wrong.”

Hope sent everyone a weak smile as she made her way through the silent crowd. “Are you sure? Because what I have to say can wait.”

“Of course, she’s sure,” Twyla pushed her way to the front of the group once Hope was seated. “So go ahead, Hog, give us all of the dirty details.”

With every eye pinned on her, Hope cleared her throat. But nothing came out.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Rachel said. “Let me get you some water.”

Thankful for being handed another stall tactic, Hope waited patiently for Rachel to fill a glass, and then took her time drinking every last drop.

Once the glass was empty, Darla jumped back in. “So who is it? Someone you met in California?”

“Yes.” She glanced out the side window where Colt was talking on his phone. “In fact, I ran into him at the place I worked.”

“I knew it!” Twyla almost jumped out of her skintight Wranglers. “The daddy is a movie star.”

“A movie star?” Rachel stared at Hope with confusion. “But why didn’t you just say that in the first place, honey. It sure would’ve saved us a lot time.”

Suddenly stuck between a lie and a hard spot, Hope could only stammer. “Well, I… I…”

Darla jumped back in. “No doubt, she was worried that her name would be splashed all over those rag magazines.”

Rachel’s confusion cleared. “You’re right. I remember when Daryl’s two-headed hog got on the front cover. There were so many phone calls and people stoppin’ by unannounced that the poor man was forced to sell it to a travelin’ carnival, just so he could get a wink of sleep. And I know for a fact he’s regretted it ever since. Daryl loved Mizty and Bitzy like they was his own kids.” She patted Hope’s knee. “But there’s no need to worry about that, honey. If anyone can keep a secret, we can.”

“She right, Hope,” Cindy Lynn leaned in closer. “Is it Matthew McConaughey?”

Fortunately, before Hope had to answer, Colt stepped back in the door, his hair tousled and windblown. He was dressed like he always was—in a black T-shirt and faded jeans. But there was something different about him. Something that Hope couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“I just got off the phone with Lyle Dalton.” Colt’s deep, smooth voice pulled everyone’s attention away from Hope. With every eye on him, he continued. “He’s right in the middle of some important negotiations and can’t fly back, but I know he’s doing everything he can to fix this.”

“He’s a little late, ain’t he?” Joe Mitchell said, and a grumble of agreement went through the crowd.

Colt turned to look at the older man. “I can understand you being upset, Joe, seeing as how all three of your sons work at Dalton. But you’ve known Lyle all his life—gone fishing with him and enjoyed his hospitality on more than one occasion—so if anyone knows how hard the man works or how much he loves the folks of Bramble, it should be you.”

Joe looked away, then nodded. “I suppose I do,” he confessed.

“Seeing as how you just got out of prison, how do you know so much about it, Colt?” Rye Pickett asked.

Colt didn’t even blink. “Because I spent last week in Houston at the corporate offices, going over the books with Lyle.”

Hope sat up straighter. Colt had been in Houston helping Lyle? For a moment, she was angry that he had kept such a secret. But looking around the room at the panicked faces, she quickly understood why.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Colt said. “Dalton Oil is in financial trouble. Which is why Lyle’s negotiating with another company to buy Dalton. Meanwhile, he’s assured me that everyone laid off will receive a severance package to tide them over until they get another job.”

“A job where?” Rye Pickett asked. “If Dalton don’t get bought, there ain’t gonna be no jobs.”

It was a good point, and the crowd’s grumbling grew louder. But before panic could set back in, Hope slipped off her stool and walked over to stand next to Colt.

“Dalton Oil has been around for longer than most of the people in this room,” she stated. “So let’s not go and put the cart before the horse. If Colt says Lyle is doing everything he can to set thing straight, I believe him.
Besides, this isn’t just Lyle’s problem. If Dalton Oil is going to survive, then we all need to work together.”

“But how can we help, Hope?” Kenny Gene pushed his way to the front. “Most of us don’t know nothin’ about business.”

Colt’s gaze swept over the crowd. “We can start by not panicking. And we can rally around the families who did have a member laid off.” His voice rose, strong and sure. “And we can do what all good Texans do when their backs are against the wall.”

“What’s that?” Harley asked.

Colt winked at Hope before giving the group one of his rare smiles. “We fight.”

L
OST JOBS, OR
a town’s complete financial ruin, weren’t enough to keep true Texans from a football game. Especially a state championship. So on Friday afternoon, the entire town of Bramble loaded up their cowbells, face paint, and pompoms into chartered buses and caravanned down to San Antonio, where they checked into a Best Western to prepare themselves for the game the following day.

The Houston team pitted against Bramble High turned out to be the size of pro football players with helmets covered in award emblems for basically being a bunch of badasses. In the first half, the Central High Cougars scored three times while the Bulldogs scored only once. Still, the Dawgs held them to field goals and went into the locker room at halftime down by only two.

When her daddy and mama got up to go to the concession stand, Hope’s gaze drifted down two rows to where Colt sat with Shirlene. The stiff breeze played in the silk of his dark hair, fluttering it around his strong profile and the flipped-up collar of his worn leather jacket. He turned
to laugh at something Shirlene said, and his gaze caught hers, impaling her in smoky gray.

It was funny how one piece of information could change an entire image. The knowledge that Colt’s mama had been an alcoholic was all it took to make the pieces fit together. Colt’s anger and delinquent behavior. His desire to leave Bramble and all its bad memories. His passion for the open road and a carefree lifestyle. Everything made sense now.

“It’s so admirable the way Colt has stepped up to help out the town.”

The softly spoken words pulled Hope’s gaze away from Colt to Faith’s wide blue eyes.

“Slate said that Colt is even trying to get other businesses to relocate to Bramble—just in case there are more layoffs,” her sister continued.

Hope had heard the same thing, and was more than surprised that Colt had so many business connections. It was a shame that Hope wouldn’t be around to see if any panned out. She started to question her sister about the businesses when Faith pulled her crazy mind-reading thing.

“So when are you leaving?” she asked.

After glancing around, Hope sent her sister a warning look. “Would you keep it down?”