The Crown Jewels (32 page)

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Authors: Honey Palomino

BOOK: The Crown Jewels
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Georgia stood next to Jesse, and I began to walk over to her. Jesse spotted me and moved to stand in front of her.

“Thinks it’s better you just go on and high-tail it on outta here, don’t you, Beau?”

I opened my mouth to argue and my eye caught Georgia’s behind him. Her eyes pleaded with me while she mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ to me.

I took a deep breath, and tipped my hat.

“Georgia, you know how to find me if you need me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

George

 

“Why the hell were you kissing Beau Haggard?” Crit roared.

After the cops and firefighters left, after the barn that our father had built with his bare hands had fallen to the ground in a charred pile of burnt wood, ashes and smoke, we were standing in our mother’s kitchen.

I felt like I was facing an interrogation squad.

Seth, Crit and Jesse all stood in front of me, their eyes accusing and angry.

“Yeah, sis, what the hell is going on? First Lee, now Beau?” Seth asked.

My face flushed with embarrassment. This was not how I intended for them to find out about me and Beau. If there even was a ‘me and Beau’. Hell, we had only gone on one date. And despite my best efforts of ripping off his clothes, he had insisted on being a perfect gentleman and had done no more than kiss me. Although, it seems that was enough to make me want nothing more than to rip his clothes off even more.

“I didn’t do anything with Lee! Lee forced himself on me, dammit, it’s not the same!” I exclaimed.

“Well, then what’s going on with Beau? You know one Haggard boy is as bad as the next, why are you getting all tangled up with those losers?” Jesse said.

“He’s not a loser!” I protested.

“He’s not? Have you forgotten what happened with Marisa?” Seth asked.

“No, I haven’t! And neither has he!”

“Oh, yeah? He talk about her a lot?” Crit asked.

“No! He hasn’t mentioned her! That’s not what I meant, I meant that he —,”

“— exactly my point!” Seth interrupted.

“Listen! I’m an adult now. I can do whatever I want, and see whomever I please!” Tears began streaming down my face. They were taking this all out on me.

“Oh, you’re seeing him now? Is that what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. We just went on one date, and it doesn’t matter because it’s not your business, and once again - I can see whomever I want!”

“No, you can’t! You can’t go whoring around with the very family that is responsible for setting all these fires. Did you hear about the Baker’s? They cut Lee off from drinking, and then their bar caught fire the next day. What a coincidence, huh?”

“Beau isn’t responsible for those fires, and you don’t know that Lee is, either!”

“Are you defending him?” Crit asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“She is!” Seth cried. “She’s fucking defending that bastard! Unbelievable!”

“I am not!” I sobbed. “Stop it!”

“I can’t believe you, Georgia. Mom and Dad would be so disappointed in you,” Crit said, walking out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with Seth and Jesse.

Seth looked at me quietly, shaking his head, his eyes looking at me with disgust.

“What kind of sister are you? Don’t you know that Crit already has the weight of the world on his shoulders? He’s trying to keep this farm afloat, get ready for this competition, and now we have to figure out how to replace all those expensive tools that are now ruined. Do you really need to add to his grief? Don’t you think he has enough to deal with?”

“I didn’t fucking do anything!” I screamed through my tears. “And if I did, it wouldn’t be any of your business!”

I looked over at Jesse for help, but he just shrugged and looked away.

“You’re impossible!” I yelled, turning on my heel and running up the stairs to my bedroom. When I got to my room, I slammed the door as loud as I could.

I threw myself on the bed, staring up at my ceiling, and kicking off my boots.

My head was filled with confusion.

Who the hell was setting these fires? Was it really Lee? And if so, why would he do that?

I couldn’t believe my brothers had turned on me like that. I couldn’t believe they thought they could control me and tell me who to see, or who to kiss.

I had never felt more caged in my life as I did right now, in this house.

I have to get out of here
, I thought.

I pulled my boots back on, ran out of the house, saddled up Cherokee as fast I could, and hopped on. With a click of my tongue and a firm squeeze of my thighs, he obeyed me perfectly, breaking out into a full run under the night sky and not stopping until I slowed him down when we reached old man Olly’s house.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Beau

 

I fucked up.

I barreled in and caused even more grief for Georgia by kissing her in front of God and everyone.

What the fuck was I thinking? That’s just it, I wasn’t.

I was feeling.

Feeling whatever all this shit was that was stirred up inside me. It had gotten a grip on me and wouldn’t let go. I had heard she might be in danger, and I’d gone running like a cow running for his dinner. I couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to Georgia.

And yet, I had happened to her. I had barged into her life, meaning to apologize for my brother’s mistakes and ended up feeling like I had been struck by lightening, then asking her out and kissing her instead of comforting her, which is what I had set out to do. My intentions had been good, but I went about everything all wrong, listening to my heart, and whatever these goddamned feelings were inside me that kept me second guessing everything I did.

I was not a man that second guessed himself. But Georgia had a hold on me that was making me act more and more like someone else.

Like someone who had something to lose.

And that was the scariest fucking feeling in the world. More than bull riding, more than racing trucks had been years ago, even more than opening up to Georgia and telling her how much I was thinking about her…the idea of losing her terrified me.

But I didn’t even have her yet.

I sat on the back deck of my cabin, taking in the sweeping view. The rolling hills of our two farms were lit up well, even without the flashing lights of the firetrucks and the sheriff’s car. They had finally left, after hours of combing through the property, looking for any clue left behind. The barn was a complete loss, and I knew the Hopes would be devastated. Ward had built that, with the help of my father and several other men, from the ground up when I was just a little boy.

The tools could all be replaced, but Ward would never build another building. My heart broke for Georgia.

She was going through so much, and it just kept getting heaped on - I wished like hell there was something I could to help. As soon as the sun came up, I intended to find Lee and have a very serious talk with him. I’d know if he was the one behind this shit if I could just look into his eyes.

One way or another, I was going to get to the bottom of it.

A door slammed in the darkness and I watched as Georgia ran out of the house and into the barn. Moments later, she led a saddled Cherokee out of the barn, mounted him, and took off towards the back of their property.

I frowned with worry. It was the middle of the fucking night, the last thing she needed to do was to be out riding in the dark. Anything could happen.

I watched as she flew past me. If she had turned her head just slightly, she would have seen me, now standing with my much needed second glass of whiskey in my hand watching her. But she didn’t.

She kept going, as if my cabin wasn’t even there, as if I wasn’t there, riding up to the gate and hopping off Cherokee. My eyes gazed over the curvy silhouette of her hips, and my cock twitched. She opened the gate, Cherokee walked through with just a flick of her wrist, and she closed the gate back.

I kept waiting for her to look over at me, but she didn’t. She jumped back on Cherokee, wiped her cheek, and sat back in her seat as her horse began walking again.

A list of dangers began running through my mind, filling my mind with worse case scenarios and images that a man should never imagine. She could run across anything - not just some asshole, maybe Lee, that was fond of setting fires, but a variety of wildlife could pose a threat to a woman alone in the fuckin’ woods in the middle of the night.

“Shit,” I said to the inky darkness that enclosed Georgia as she and Cherokee faded from sight. I finished the whiskey I was holding, the warmth trailing down my throat, starkly reminding me of why I stopped drinking so long ago, as a vision of Marisa’s face danced before my eyes.

“Shit,” I repeated. I stood up, jogged down to my parent’s barn, saddled up Buck, jumped on him and headed after Georgia.

***

When I reached LaCroix’s place, Cherokee was grazing in his usual spot, and Georgia was curled up on the porch swing crying. I jumped off Buck and led him over near Cherokee. When I sat down next to Georgia, she didn’t look at me. She sat hugging her knees, her head down as tears fell from the corners of her eyes.

“Georgia,” I whispered, caressing her back. She was shaking. I put an arm around her, pulling her to me. She leaned into me silently.

“I’m so sorry, Georgie,” I said, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. I pressed my face into her hair, inhaling deeper, and then kissing her head. She leaned into me a little more, until she came to rest with her head in my lap. I smiled at her, even though she couldn’t see. Her eyes were closed as she rested, the tears flowing from her as she cried.

“It’s okay, Georgie,” I whispered, stroking her head, “it’s alright to cry. You’re safe with me.”

We stayed that way for the next few hours. Not talking. It wasn’t needed. Everything that needed to be said was understood between us. She cried until she fell asleep in my lap, and the sunlight broke through the trees, bringing with it a brand new day full of brand new possibilities.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

GEORGE

 

“Courage is being scared to death,

and saddling up anyway.”

~John Wayne

The gate shot open, and the meanest looking bull I’d ever seen flew out of the chute, with Crit on the back, holding on for his life. The bull flung him around in the air, his left arm flying up behind him. It bucked in circles with such intense strength, it almost hurt to watch as Crit was flung in every direction, seemingly all at once.

Eight seconds was an eternity. Ruby and I watched from the bleachers, our hands clenched together as we held our breath and somehow managed to squeal in delight all at the same time.

The bull bucked violently, jarring Crit to the side, as his body threatened to fall off. He righted himself, staying on by flinging his body back to meet the bull’s flailing back…one more buck, and then another, and then the sweet release of the buzzer sounded and Crit let go, flying to the ground in a cloud of dust and leather.

“Whooo-eeee!” Ruby screamed, jumping up and down as we watched Crit stand up and leave the ring. The bull trotted to the other end, corralled by a couple of rodeo clowns that did their best to keep the crowd laughing and the bulls under control.

The Houston rodeo was ten times more crowded than the Sugar Hill Round-Up, and Ruby and I were squeezed in amongst the huge crowd.

The crowd watched silently as we waited for the judge’s scores. There were four judges, and each judge rated each rider and each bull on a scale from one to twenty-five. Those points were added up, then divided in half to reach a rider score and a bull score of between zero and fifty. Then those numbers are then combined to reach a final ride score between zero and one hundred. A score of ninety was considered outstanding, and would ensure you made it to the next round of competition, which was in two days.

One by one, the judge’s final score showed up on the scoreboard. Crit ended up with a ninety-five, and when they showed the number on the board, I thought Ruby was going to break my hand off, she was so excited.

Crit looked up at us, tipped his hat, and then disappeared in the ocean of cowboy hats, Wranglers and leather boots that every male in this place seemed to be wearing. I didn’t mind it one bit, in fact, I enjoyed a nice pair of tight Wranglers.

I thought of Beau, for the millionth time today, and felt what was now becoming familiar - the pangs of yearning just to have him in sight. I had it bad for Beau Haggard, I’ll tell you that.

I was still mad at Crit. Beau had been so sweet, holding me in his arms and letting me sleep with my head on his lap until the sun came up. I couldn’t bear to go back home, to be back in that house full of ghosts and misery.

Crit, Seth, Jesse and I had been wading through our lives like robots, none of us had managed to really connect with one another, and I couldn’t help but see our parent’s face in every room of the place, and on their faces, too.

As far as I was concerned, I was an adult and I was going to act like one. Which meant doing what I wanted. Seeing who I wanted.

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