Once a Cowboy (13 page)

“We have about a dozen sandwiches to finish off so tell me more about Camila. What does she do?”

“As a teenage mom Camila devoted her life to raising Jilly. Jilly’s almost fourteen now and known as the angel of Bramble, Texas.”

“Really?”

“Yes. She spends all her time helping the elderly. She picks up their groceries, their medicine and just spends time with them when they’re lonely.”

“That’s unusual.”

“Camila did a super job raising her. Of course, Camila’s a very good role model, very warm and loving. To stay at home with her daughter, Camila used her skills to create her own business, Camila’s Common Threads.”

“What’s that?”

“She quilts, mostly baby quilts that she sells on the Internet and in her store. And she makes scented soaps, which seem to be very popular. They’re sold all over Texas.”

“She sounds very talented and creative.”

“She is and she’s also now the mayor of Bramble.”

He talked so lovingly of these people and Alex knew they were his real family. The family that was always there for him.

She helped him put the food away.

“I’ve been talking too much.”

“No. I loved hearing about your friends.”

“If you come to the service, I’ll introduce you.”

“I’d like that.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a plastic bag. In the den, he dropped the bracelet into it. “I’ll bring it to the funeral home first thing in the morning.” He laid it on the coffee table and sat on the sofa, staring at it.

She sat beside him, hating to bring up something, but she had to. “I asked Mike to save the other bracelet for Mrs. Braxton. I’m sure she would want it.”

“Probably.”

“Brodie…”

“Alex, please. Don’t tell me about them. If you do, they will become real. Right now, I can’t handle any more reality.”

“I know.” She thought about the rattle and knew it wasn’t the right time to give it to him. Slipping an arm around his waist, she rested against him. He pulled her closer, leaning back against the sofa. She could feel the steady beat of his heart. It was just the two of them, alone in this room. The world, the Braxtons, awaited outside. For tonight, though, there was just the moment and a cowboy who was hurting.

His hand slid to her hair and removed the clip, her blond hair tumbling to her shoulders. Cupping her head, he kissed her gently, then again, his lips barely touching hers yet it was the most powerful, erotic sensation she’d ever felt. His tongue ran across her bottom lip, tasting, tantalizing, then he kissed her deeply.

When she’d dreamed of kissing Brodie, it was
nothing like this—mind-tripping, spine-tingling good. It was like being without water for days and once you had that first sip, you couldn’t get enough.

Her hand found its way inside his shirt and he caught it, kissing her knuckles, then her lips again briefly. Holding her close he reached up and turned off the lamp.

She curled into him, knowing that tonight the passion building between them would not find its release. He just needed someone to hold—to help him make it through the night so he could face tomorrow.

And that was a gift in itself—that he needed her.

Brodie woke up at dawn and stared down at the woman in his arms. Her head rested below his chin, her hand lay on his chest. She slept peacefully, making an occasional deep-breathing sound. That was probably as close to snoring as she would ever get.

It felt so right to have her in his arms. He’d never needed anyone in his life, but last night he’d needed her. It wasn’t sexual, either. Not that he didn’t want her. Last night was about something entirely different. It was about comfort, caring and mental nourishment so he could face another day. Holding on to Alex gave him that strength.

The pretty P.I. was getting to him and he didn’t mind. Even though she worked for the Braxtons, he trusted her.

She stirred and sat up, brushing hair out of her eyes. “Good morning,” she whispered.

He felt a catch in his gut at her sleep-filled voice. Her soft brown eyes were languid, sensuous, and he had a feeling she’d look like this after making love. After…

Rising to a sitting position, he flexed his shoulders. “Morning.”

She sniffed the air. “I don’t smell coffee. After spending the night on this sofa, I expected coffee to be brought to me.” Her eyes twinkled.

“Yes, ma’am.” He rose to his feet and headed for the kitchen. She had a knack for putting a smile on his face. When the first cup dripped out, he took it to her.

“Wonderful.” She curled up in the corner of the sofa. “Yikes!”

“What?” He turned from getting himself a cup.

“This is black.” She made a face and hurried after him to the kitchen.

“Oh. I forgot to ask. I’m not used to getting coffee for a woman.”

“Really?” She put milk and sugar in her cup and stirred.

“Yes, really.”

She leaned against the cabinet, sipping her coffee. “So I’m your first?”

He grinned. “So to speak.”

“Cowboy, that is so hard to believe.”

“Well, you see, I’m used to having a woman bring me coffee.”

“Now that I believe.” She smiled, bringing sunshine into the room.

He walked over and tucked her hair behind her ear, loving the easy banter between them. It’s what he needed this morning. He needed her. “I’ll bring you coffee any day of the week.”

She looked at him over her cup. “I bet you get a lot of action with that response.”

He placed a hand on either side of her. “Are you a taker?”

She twisted slightly to set her cup on the counter, then trailed a finger down his nose. “You have enough on your plate without adding another complication.”

“Sex is never a complication.”

“Oh, yeah.” A bubbly laugh left her throat. “That’s a man’s point of view.”

“Mmm.” He caught her lips in a slow kiss. When she opened her mouth, he kissed her until he couldn’t think. Only feel. And he was feeling her in ways…

“Whoa, cowboy.” She rested her face in his neck. “We’re getting sidetracked and you have a lot to do this morning.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her forehead. “Maybe later.”

She drew back. “Maybe.” She walked into the den and found her purse. “I’ll see you at the service.”

In a flash she was gone. Suddenly the gloom and doom of this day returned in full force. He took a moment and hurried to his bedroom.

A
LEX WAS RUNNING LATE
. Naddy and Buck had questions about where she was all night. Buck knew she wasn’t working. For years she’d come and gone as she pleased, now all of a sudden she had two watchdogs on her case. She had to start looking for that apartment and soon.

She wanted to look nice so it took time choosing an outfit. She only had one black dress and debated whether to wear something else. In the end she wore the basic sleeveless, V-neck black dress with sandaled heels.

When she arrived, the small chapel was filling up with friends of the Hayes family. She saw Brodie in the front row with Tripp and a woman, whom she knew was
his wife. Another couple sat beside them, which had to be Colter and his wife. Brodie’s aunt was on his right.

While signing the guest book, she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye. She whirled around to face the Braxton family.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Helen said. “But we want to see him.”

“I want to see my son,” George added in a stubborn voice.

“This is not the time.”

“I tried to tell them that, but they won’t listen.” Alex could see that Maggie had reached the end of her patience.

“Let him grieve for the woman who raised him,” Alex said.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” George replied.

“Oh, yes, I can.” Alex stood her ground. “If you confront him today, you will lose him for the rest of your life. Are you willing to chance that?”

“He’s my son.” George wiped away a tear and Alex felt a tug on her heart again at what these people had been through.

“I know, Mr. Braxton, but today is not the day to meet him.”

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Helen was looking through the open doorway to the front row.

“Yes. That’s Brodie Hayes.”

Brodie stood to shake someone’s hand. “He’s so handsome.”

“Go home, please. I’ll be in touch.”

Maggie took her father’s arm. “Let’s go, Dad.”

He took one last look at Brodie and turned to leave.

“Mom,” Maggie called.

Helen tore her eyes away and followed.

Alex let out a long breath and quickly took a seat in the back. The service had already started. The minister depicted a life of a general’s wife who was devoted to her husband, her son and her numerous charities. The eulogy was nice and correct, no reference to the secret that the man in the front row would now have to face.

The service over, people stood to offer their condolences to Brodie and his aunt. She hesitated at the back, unsure whether to intrude on this private moment.

As the last person walked away, Brodie noticed her and motioned for her to come forward. She made her way to the front thinking how great he looked in the dark navy suit.

Brodie quickly made the introductions of his friends and aunt. “Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking hands.

They smiled and responded in kind, putting her at ease. Marisa was as fair as Camila was dark and both were very friendly. Since she’d heard their stories, she felt as if she knew them.

A man from the funeral home came up to Brodie and whispered something to him.

“They’ll be ready to leave for the airport in ten minutes.”

“I’ll bring the car around,” Colter said, grabbing his hat from the pew.

“We’ll all go, so we’ll be in the vehicle ready to follow the hearse.” Tripp reached for his hat.

Marisa and Camila said goodbye and Brodie and Alex stood alone.

“How are you?” she asked. The blue eyes were sad and her heart contracted.

He touched her cheek and it felt as warm as the August heat. “You ask me that all the time.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Mmm.” He nodded. “I don’t believe anyone has worried about me so much before.”

They stared at each other, lost in the new feelings developing between them.

The funeral director spoke to Brodie and he had to speak twice before Brodie heard him.

“I’ve got to go,” Brodie said, bending down for his hat. “After the burial at Arlington, we’re flying back tonight. It’ll be late, but…”

“I’ll see you then.”

He settled his hat on his head. “Later.”

As he walked away, she watched him for a moment then made her way to the back of the funeral home. She crawled into her Jeep and waited as the hearse pulled away with a Suburban behind it. She was glad his friends were going with him.

S
HE WENT HOME
, changed and headed for the police station. Mike had the bracelet waiting for her. She made a quick stop by her office to get the directions to the Braxton ranch.

As she was going through the Braxton file, Buck walked in. “You finally showed up for work.”

“Not really. I’m only here for a minute.”

“Now listen, girl. We have a lot of work to do. And I took on a new case. Danny Davis is serving time for a crime his mother says he didn’t commit. I’ll need your help digging though all the court transcripts and documents.”

“Sure.” She pulled out the directions Helen had given her. “But not for a couple of days.”

“What! Why not?”

“I’m busy on something else.”

He shook his head. “You just never learn.”

She got to her feet. “Buck…”

“Let the cowboy handle his own affairs. You’re getting too involved.”

“I tore his world apart and now I have to be there for him…and the Braxtons.”

“Are you even aware of a P.I.’s job description?” His voice rose and she refrained from gritting her teeth. “Collect the facts, deliver them, get paid and get the hell out.”

She reached for her purse. “That’s the difference between you and me. I can’t turn my back when someone is hurting.”

“Holy Moses. Joan branded you for life.”

“And you’re never going to change that in me. I’m more like my mother than you, so deal with it.” She slung her purse over her shoulder, finally realizing and accepting that that trait in her personality was never going to change. That’s who she was. “Catch you later.”

T
HE DRIVE TO
Weatherford was long and tedious on the freeway. The town of about twenty thousand people was located sixty miles west of Dallas and was mostly
a farming and ranching community. Weatherford was known as the cutting horse capital of the world. Horse ranches dotted the landscape. Since it was summer, the pastures had a parched looked. Those that had irrigation were greener.

She turned off I-30 and followed the directions. Soon she saw the county road listed and made another turn. The Braxton ranch came into sight—Lazy B Horse Farm.

Beneath an oak tree a couple of horses munched on grass. The white limestone ranch house had a long front porch and a chain-link fence enclosed the yard. Barns and pens were in the distance. There was a feeling of neglect about the place. The fences had barbed wire broken or missing and weeds grew wild around the barn and in the pastures.

As she got out she noticed everything was quiet and she wondered if anyone was home. Or maybe that’s just the way it was in the country. She’d called Helen to let her know she was coming so they should be here.

A reddish-brown cocker spaniel jumped from the porch and crawled beneath the fence to greet her. After a couple of barks, the front door opened and Helen came out.

“Come in, Alex,” Helen called.

She opened the gate and walked up the paved walk, the dog following her.

“Don’t mind Daisy. She’s not much of a guard dog.”

On the porch, they stood face-to-face and Alex could see the pain in Helen’s eyes. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“No, dear. What’s this about?”

“I’d like to speak with you about Brodie.”

Helen sighed. “Alex, we can’t take much more. I’m sorry about this morning, but we had to see him.”

“I know. But my visit is about something else.”

Maggie came to the door. “Come in, Alex. It’s too hot to be standing out there.”

Alex walked into a country-style home with overstuffed tweed furniture, two recliners, oak paneling and a braided rug covering hardwood floors. George sat in one of the recliners.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice unfriendly.

“I know this is hard…”

“Please have a seat,” Maggie said.

She sat on the sofa, hoping to explain, or at least take away some of their pain. “I’d like to tell you what’s happened in the last few days.”

“Would you like a glass of tea?” Maggie asked.

“No. Thank you.”

Helen took a seat beside her. “What’s happened?”

She told them the story of digging up the Hayes baby.

“So she buried her dead baby?” Helen asked.

“Yes.”

“And stole mine?”

“Yes.”

“The police already called us, but it doesn’t concern us. That’s not our baby. He’s still alive.”

“Yes, he is, but you don’t know the effect this is having on Brodie. It’s almost too much for him to take, and he’s a strong man. He wanted the baby to be with his mother so the baby is also being buried at Arlington National Cemetery.”

“Why are you telling us this?” George wanted to know.

“So you’ll understand his reticence and not be hurt by it. And I thought you might want this.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the bracelet. “It was found wrapped with the remains.” She handed the plastic bag to Helen.

She stared down at it and tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Oh, my. Oh, my.”

“What is it?” George asked.