Megan's Hero (The Callahans of Texas Book #3): A Novel (20 page)

On Monday morning, Will tucked the cash for Megan’s van in his pocket and watched Dalton’s friend drive it away. He’d thought about trying to add to the money somehow, but he decided it wouldn’t be a smart move. If Megan ever found out, she’d throw a hissy fit and insist on giving it back anyway.

He wasn’t quite sure what to think of her reaction to his comment on Saturday night about baby names. Longing had filled her countenance, followed by regret before she turned away. She barely talked the rest of the evening, claiming she was tired. He couldn’t argue with that. She’d worked way too hard all week, and it had been a long day.

After he took her home, she paid him a hundred dollars toward the cost of her hospital bill from the money she made on the cakes. He told her he didn’t want it, but she dug in her heels like a cow pulling against a rope. To keep the peace, he grudgingly accepted her payment and scrawled a receipt on a piece of scratch paper.

When he tried to give her a good night kiss, she shied away—which didn’t make a lick of sense because she’d thoroughly enjoyed the one on Friday night.

Will concluded that he’d blown it, pushed her too much with the comment about the baby names. She hadn’t seemed to mind him putting his arm around her several times at the reception. She’d even welcomed it, especially when Mike joined them.

Fear had flashed across her face when she saw Mike approaching their table. It vanished so quickly Will thought he’d imagined it. But when he put his arm around her, and she leaned against him, she was definitely sending the other man the message that Will would protect her.

From what? Why was she afraid of Mike? When they first saw him, why hadn’t she mentioned that she might know him? What could he do to harm her?

Both Lindsey and Dalton thought highly of him. He was a respected businessman, not some lowlife thug. He must have a clean record, or Dalton wouldn’t have been happy about him dating Kim.

Likely Megan was afraid her old friend would tell her family where she was. Since they appeared to be on good terms when he left their table, he expected Mike had assured her that he wouldn’t.

Yet, the nagging thought that she might have been afraid of what he would reveal to them—about her—lurked in the back of his mind. Mike had given them one more piece of the puzzle, a cousin named Josh who was back in town. Back from where? And if she’d had no contact with her family, how had she known her cousin had been gone?

Will climbed in his pickup and started it up. What was it she’d told Mike?
I’ve heard a few things through the grapevine.
Things she didn’t want to mention in front of the Callahans, and Mike had gotten the message.

“Lord, I wish she’d just sit down and tell me all about her family, about her life. I want to get to know her, to understand what makes her tick. I hate getting these chunks that only leave me asking more questions. I’m trying to trust you here, but her baby is due in eight weeks. The way I see it, we don’t have a whole lot of time to get this situation resolved.”

It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen her since Saturday night. She missed church for the first time since arriving in Callahan Crossing. She passed on the family get-together to celebrate Father’s Day too. His mom thought maybe she was uncomfortable with it since she’d never had a father.

Will believed there was more to it than that. He hoped she’d worked out whatever was bugging her because he intended to intrude on her space whether she liked it or not.

As he drove around to the back of her house, he was surprised to see her standing by the pasture fence, a small bouquet of wildflowers in her hand. He parked the truck under the chinaberry tree and walked out to join her.

She glanced back at him with a smile. “Good morning.”

That was a good start. His mood scooted up a notch.

“Mornin’, sugar.” He stopped beside her and rested his hand lightly at the small of her back. When she didn’t pull away, he breathed a little easier. “What ya lookin’ at?”

“Grass, birds, and cows way over yonder. Is that a different pasture?”

“Yes. It’s hard to see the fence from here.”

“So that’s why they never come over this way.” She looked up at him. “Why aren’t there any cattle in this pasture?”

“In the past, we usually had a cowboy living here, so it was for his horses. Since Nate married Jenna, we haven’t needed it for a hired hand. That worked out well when Dalton lost his home in the fire. Not only were we able to provide him with a house, but it gave him a place for his horses too. The grass has grown quite a bit after that good rain, so I could move some cattle in here next week if you’d like.”

“What do my likes or dislikes have to do with it?”

“Cattle can get noisy if they’re upset about something, and occasionally it might be smelly if the wind blows in the right direction. Most of the time here, it blows the other way.”

“I’m from the city, remember? I think I might enjoy a few cow moos. It will remind me of car horns.”

He chuckled and gave her a gentle squeeze. “A calf bawling for its mama sounds better than a honking horn. Don’t tell me you miss all that hustle, bustle, and racket of Austin.”

“I did at first, but not now. I really love it here.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Hearing “I love you” would be even better, but he’d take what he could get for the moment. “Do you want some more flowers?”

“A few more would be nice. I’m to the point where bending over is difficult.”

Will laughed and stepped away to gather verbena for her bouquet. “Sweetheart, you reached that point a couple of months ago. I’m surprised you didn’t topple over pickin’ those.” He dodged when she threw a daisy at him, though it didn’t come close. Still grinning, he broke off several small branches of the purple flowers and walked back toward her, picking up the daisy on the way.

He handed her the verbena but kept the daisy. “Do you want more? I’ll get some from the pasture if you do.”

“I ought to make you go through that fence—and hope you get stuck on the barbed wire—but I won’t. These are enough.” She turned toward the house and started walking. “Did Dalton’s friend show up?”

“Yep. He drove off with the van too.”

“His offer was better than the others?” She stepped around a patch of grass burrs.

“Not a lot, but every little bit helps.” He patted his pocket. “Got five hundred cash.”

“That’s two hundred more than the salvage company. You did good, Callahan. Thank you.” Her happy smile warmed his heart.

He grinned and flipped one of her curls with his fingertip. “Yes, ma’am, I did. I’m a horse trader from way back. What are you up to today, besides enjoyin’ the scenery?”

“I’m going to start on the museum newsletter. I have some new formatting ideas Emily said I could try, so it will be fun. She has a new display set up that we’ll highlight.”

“The general store one?”

“Morgan’s Mercantile. Emily said it was like a general store. I was surprised at all the things the family brought in. Bolts of fabric and lace, shoes, hats, some books, and several different kinds of canned goods. Emily was pretty excited when she found an old unopened package of Arbuckles’ Ariosa Coffee in one of the boxes. Something on it indicated it was from around 1885.” Laughter danced in her eyes. “I acted happy too, though I still don’t know what all the fuss was about. Other than it being old and the date documented. Someone came in, and Emily went off to give them a tour. I never got around to asking her about it.

“I’m not real up on history. Just between you and me, I never found it very interesting, but Emily is changing my thinking on that. She’s given me a couple of tours of the museum, plus I hear her talking to visitors. I learn something new each time. She’s so knowledgeable and explains things like a story. I used to think history was dull, but she makes it fascinating.”

“That she does. I heard my grandparents talk about Arbuckle coffee. It was real popular with cowboys and pioneers because it was already roasted. Before the Civil War, coffee beans were sold green and folks roasted them at home or in a skillet over a campfire. If you burned even one bean, it could ruin the whole batch.

“After the war, the Arbuckle brothers figured out a way to coat roasted beans with an egg and sugar glaze that retained the flavor and aroma. They sealed them in airtight one-pound bags and shipped them all over the country. There are several entries in Grandpa Aidan’s record books for a case of Arbuckles’.”

“Emily said there were one hundred one-pound bags in a case. Your grandpa must have really liked coffee.”

Will smiled and cupped her elbow as they walked up the back porch steps. “He was buying it for the whole crew. They had anywhere between ten and twenty cowboys working for them at various times. The chuck wagon cook constantly kept a pot of hot coffee by the campfire, so they went through a lot of it. The packages came with a stick of peppermint, and the cook used it to get the cowboys to turn the coffee grinder.” He opened the screen door and followed her into the kitchen.

“Whoever ground the beans got the candy?” Megan took a glass from the cabinet.

“That’s right. Those boys didn’t get to town too often, so they didn’t have much opportunity to enjoy candy.” He watched as she put the flowers in the glass, added water, and rearranged them a bit.

She glanced at the daisy he still held in his hand. “Are you going to keep that one?”

He nodded. “I thought maybe we could sit on the porch a spell and talk.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” She set the bouquet on the kitchen table, pausing to admire them.

He handed her the money for the van before he forgot it. “We’ve been visiting. Now I want to do some discussin’.”

She stopped by the sink and filled two glasses with water. “Discussing or meddling?”

“A little bit of both.”

After handing him a glass, she led the way back out to the porch and sat down in one of two rocking chairs he’d brought over a few weeks earlier. “This sounds serious.”

He smiled, hoping to put her at ease. “Not dirge-worthy serious. Just have some things on my mind.”

She sat down, still not looking too happy. “Okay. Shoot.”

Thinking of the cash he’d just given her, enough to keep her going for a little while if she took off, he prayed silently.
Lord, don’t let me make a mess of this.

“When we first saw Mike Craig outside the church, did you recognize him?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“He was with Kim. Wouldn’t she have been thrilled if I walked up and greeted him like a long-lost friend?”

“Good point. I can understand you not wanting to make a scene.” He studied her intently. “But why didn’t you tell me you knew him?”

“I didn’t want to talk to him. It was silly, but I hoped I could avoid him.”

“When he approached us at the reception, I saw fear in your eyes. Why?”

“When I left home, he was Josh’s friend. I was afraid he might tell my cousin where I am. Then Josh would tell my mother, and she’d be out here faster than a duck on a June bug.”

“And she’d try to steal your money and generally make your life miserable.”

“Exactly. But she wouldn’t stop there. She’d do anything and everything she could think of to get money out of your family. She’d make y’all miserable too.”

“We could handle your mother. Dad is a wise man who isn’t easily fooled, especially after that incident with our cousin. He also has a lot of contacts in law enforcement and his ever-ready PI.”

“If Mom thinks there is any chance of squeezing money out of a mark, she won’t give up.”

“She’s never come up against the Callahans.”

“Aren’t you smug this morning.”

“Not smug. Just confident in my family’s abilities. Some people think we’re hicks from the sticks because we live out here.” He rocked back and forth in the chair a few times. “But the truth is, Megan, Aidan Callahan was a powerful man and a force to be reckoned with. So are we.”

“Now you’re bragging.”

“Just tellin’ it like it is. Dad’s the head honcho, but he’s taught his children well.”

He plucked a petal from the daisy. “The thing is, sugar, I’m falling in love with you.”

Off came petal number two. “But I don’t really know you.”

Petal number three drifted to the porch. “I care deeply for the woman I’ve come to know.”

Petal number four followed it. “But I’m troubled because she hides too many things from me.”

He laid the flower on the little wrought iron table between them. “Be honest with me, Megan. No more secrets.”

Megan couldn’t look at him. No matter what she did, she would lose his respect and his affection. Lose him. She’d had such foolish dreams, even though she’d known they could never come true.

Something Pastor Brad talked about in his sermon a few Sundays earlier came to mind. She couldn’t remember the exact Scripture, but the essence was that if you took Jesus’s teachings to heart and lived by them, then you’d know the truth, and the truth would set you free.

Then the opposite must be true too. If she didn’t live by the things she was learning, she would always be a captive of her past, in a prison of her fears.

As the words echoed in her heart, Megan knew what she had to do, what God wanted her to do. She needed to come clean with Will and his family. It might still destroy the good feelings he had for her, but she would no longer be burdened with the secrets.

“I guess the best way to do this is just to lay it all out there.” She moved around a little, trying to ease a mild backache. “Everyone in my family, except me, is a criminal.”

Will stared at her. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that. “Everybody?”

She nodded and began rocking at a slow, somewhat calming pace. “All of my mom’s family. At least all of them that I know or have ever heard of. I don’t know anything about my dad or his family. Remember when you were telling me about your cousin’s boyfriend attempting to rob Dub and Sue?”

“Yes. You commented that the thief must have been a pro. I had the impression that you knew what you were talking about.”

“My cousin Josh gave safecracking a try at one point, but he wasn’t any good at it. He griped for two weeks because he couldn’t find a pro to give him any tips. He’s pretty smart—in some ways at least. If he couldn’t do it, I figured the man who broke into your dad’s safe had to be a professional.” She’d always wondered how one crook asked another to share his knowledge. Wouldn’t they become competitors?

“Josh is six years older than me. He wasn’t good at opening safes, but he was an expert at stealing cars. He started when he was eighteen, stopped when he was twenty.”

“Did they catch him?”

“No. The guy he was working for was afraid his luck would run out if he kept it up. He was getting too sure of himself and taking too many risks.”

“I assume he didn’t find a real job.”

“Actually, he did. He worked as a bouncer at a bar for about six months. But he didn’t like regular hours or anyone telling him what to do. So he became a burglar. His partner knew security systems. Seemed like they could break in anywhere. Josh thought if he learned to crack safes, they might do better, but they really didn’t need it. They made some big hauls anyway. It’s amazing how many people don’t lock up jewelry and keep cash and extra credit cards lying around.”

“Y’all must have had some strange dinner conversations at your house.” He thought for a second and added, “Nix the dinner part. Maybe over beer and pretzels.”

What he must think of her. But sadly he was right. Discussions of successful thefts and burglaries or planning potential ones had been commonplace whenever the rest of the family was around.

“Option number two, with Josh telling us about it in great detail. Generally, no one was too keen on sharin’ the wealth if there was any. Although Josh bought me some clothes when I was fourteen. It bothered me that he had made the money stealing some lady’s diamonds, but it was a nice change to have something new that my mom hadn’t shoplifted.”

Will stretched out his legs, but the poor man didn’t look comfortable. “Is that how you usually got your clothes?”

“No. Most of the time she only took stuff for herself or to sell. I hated her stealing, and I was relieved when she didn’t get anything for me. It made me nervous to wear anything she swiped. I was always afraid somebody would know and call the cops.

“One time, when I was thirteen, I saw a pair of earrings I wanted in the worst way. They were on clearance and only cost two dollars, but Mom wouldn’t buy them. She pushed me to take them, telling me what a high I’d have when I got away with it. Later I read that a lot of shoplifters do it more for the adrenaline rush than wanting the item. Maybe it explains why she kept stealing even after she went to jail a couple of times.

“I gave in, slipped the earrings into my coat pocket, and walked out of the store. But I didn’t get a thrill out of it. I was really scared, and I felt dirty. I couldn’t stand it. It made me just like her, like all of them. I went back to the store a few days later and slipped the earrings back on the rack. I should have told someone what I did, but I was too afraid.”

“You returned them, that’s what counts. The Lord had his hand on you even then. He gave you a godly conscience when your upbringing should have molded you in the opposite way.”

“That’s a comforting thought. I’ve wondered how I could be so different from the rest of my family.”

Just when she thought he was beginning to relax, he tensed up again, his forehead wrinkling in a frown. “Mike mentioned that Josh was back in San Angelo. Where had he been?”

“In prison. A couple of years after I left home, he and his partner broke into an electronics store. They disconnected the alarm, but a man taking out the garbage at a nearby restaurant noticed their fake delivery truck in the alley. Since it was 1:00 in the morning, he called the police. They caught them red-handed with the truck almost full. I read about it in the San Angelo newspaper online. Plus you can learn a lot about people through public records online.”

She paused for a drink of water, then resumed rocking. “His sentence was for seven years, so he got out early. Unlike Grandpa, Josh didn’t have a hot temper. His daddy always told him to obey the rules if he got caught. Life would be better, and he’d get out quicker.”

Will frowned and sat up straighter. “Had his father been in prison too?”

She nodded and met his gaze. “When I was in the fifth grade, both Uncle Riley and Grandpa were sentenced to two years in a state jail for stealing cattle.”

Will jumped to his feet and walked the length of the porch and back. “Mike said they’re working together and on the road a lot. Please tell me they aren’t rustling cattle.”

“I’m afraid they may be. Of course, I can’t be sure. It would be totally stupid because Josh has to be on parole.” She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “It gets worse.”

He slumped down in the rocking chair and watched her warily.

“Mike said they’re working Riley’s territory. I assume he meant the one he and Grandpa used to have. It was from San Angelo north to the Caprock, west to Odessa and east to Abilene. They bragged about it being their territory, named ranches that they’d hit. Grandpa threatened to shoot anybody who infringed on it.”

The area included Callahan Crossing and the Callahan Ranch.

“It makes me sick to think about it, but they may have stolen those heifers from y’all a couple of months ago.” If they had, she knew it wouldn’t sit well with Will or his dad, no matter how much they liked her.

“We may never know,” Will said. “Once the cattle are sold, often it’s impossible to trace who took them. Do you really think they’re stealing cattle up this way?”

“Maybe.”

“Were you even going to tell me?”

“I’ve been debating it back and forth. Y’all are already watchful about the cattle. I kept thinking that maybe I didn’t need to say anything, hoping they weren’t anywhere around here.”

Will began to rock. She took some comfort that he was moving the chair at a slow, steady pace, not fast and furious. “Cattle theft has increased all over Texas and many other states. Your uncle may have been at it longer than most of them, but he’s got plenty of competition. Would he follow up on your grandfather’s threat to shoot them?”

“I don’t think so. Riley was always the one who stepped in when Grandpa got rough with us. But I’ve been away from them for a long time. With Josh just out of prison, who knows how they are now.”

“What will they do if you run into them in Callahan Crossing? Won’t they assume that you’ll know what they’re up to?”

“Yes. But I don’t think they would necessarily believe that I’d go to the sheriff.” Looking away, she picked up her glass and set it back down without taking a drink. “I never turned them in before.”

“As you said, you’ve been gone a long time. They won’t know where your loyalty lies, especially since you’re living here at the ranch and working for us.”

Megan frowned. She’d been worrying about the same thing. “They’d have a problem with that, but I don’t know what they’d do about it.”

“Would you turn them in now?”

“What would I tell the sheriff? My relatives are in town, and oh, by the way, they may be rustling cattle?”

“That would do for starters.” There was an edge of irritation in his voice.

Did he think she’d try to protect them? “I can tell him who they are so he can keep on the lookout for them. He’d be able to find out about them easy enough. But he can’t arrest them for simply being in town, can he?”

“Probably not, unless they have an outstanding warrant or something. We have to tell the folks about this.”

“I know. I need to be honest with them about everything.”

“Cut to the chase. Dad is a just-the-facts kind of guy. Leave out the part about Josh trying his hand at safecracking.” When Will stood, she did too.

He surprised her by gently pulling her into his arms. “Thank you for being honest with me. Your kinfolk are a bunch of scoundrels, but you’re a good person, Megan. Don’t ever let anyone make you think you aren’t.”

“I’m afraid your parents won’t agree with you.”

“Dad won’t be happy about the possible rustling, but he’s a fair man. He won’t judge you by your relatives. I’ll be right there to back you up.”

“Will, why would you do that?”

Tipping up her chin gently with his fingertips, he kissed her lightly but with aching sweetness. He picked up the daisy and plucked another petal from the flower. “There, we ended on the right one.”

He loves me.