B00DVWSNZ8 EBOK (3 page)

"Well, when we were kids," he said, raising his head and hooking his thumbs into his belt, obviously recovered
from whatever dark memory assailed him.

Jude had been a kid, too—a seven-year-old
kid to be exact—when Brady Fallon would have been hanging out with Jake and Cable. Her memory of those days was spotty.

Since Jake chose to avoid the subject
of family tragedy by not even naming it, Jude did, too. Besides, she was still distracted by the encounter with Brady Fallon. For some reason, she was glad he wasn’t a relative. She laughed, attempting to lighten the mood and slide past Jake's uncomfortable moment.

"What I remember
,” she said, “is y'all used to shut me out. You never let me go anywhere with you."

Jake laughed, too. "You were a pipsqueak back then. And a mouthy one at that. The mouthy part still applies."

Half an hour later, Jude found her best friend, Suzanne Breedlove, in her barn lot currying her horse. That woman had a regular romance going on with a buckskin gelding she called Buck. Years back, Suzanne had participated in barrel racing in smalltime rodeos, but not often winning and never owning a horse good enough to take her to championships.

Though Jude and Suzanne had been friends since kindergarten, their
adult lives had gone in starkly different directions. Suzanne hadn't had wealthy parents to pay her way through college. Having, at best, a strained relationship with her mother, she had left home right after high school and struggled to both work at a full time job and go to college in Lubbock.

The summer after her second year, at a rodeo, she met a Pro-Rodeo bull rider from Wyoming and hit the rodeo trail. Jude knew a few professional rodeoers, including her cousin Cable. Chasing rodeos was a hard life
, even for an adrenaline junkie. Bull riders in particular had a reputation for fast and hard living.

Suzanne had returned to Lockett two years ago after having been so out of touch with her family, she hadn't even come home for her mother's funeral.
One night she showed up at her dad's house in the middle of the night with a black eye, a dislocated shoulder and numerous scars. To this day, she hadn't said specifically what had happened between her and her Wyoming bull rider.

Now she lived with her widowed dad
, a long-haul trucker. In Truett Breedlove’s almost constant absence, Suzanne kept the Breedlove hearth and home and worked in town at Lucky's Grocery. Other than the Circle C's supply house, Lucky's was the only grocery store in Lockett and one of the few employers besides the Circle C.

Suzanne was something of a free spirit and claimed to be content with her present life. If that was true, Jude envied her. Jude couldn't recall the last time, if there had ever been one, when she had felt content
with circumstances, whatever they might be.

She walked over to Buck and ran a palm down his smooth neck. He was damp with sweat. "So what's going on with Buck?"

"We did some exercise this morning over at Pat Garner's. He told me I could use his arena anytime I want to. I don’t want my horse to get out of shape."

Pat Garner was a local small rancher who worked with cutting horses, his interest so high he had built his own arena. He was an excellent horse trainer who
often did work with the Circle C’s horses. He had been divorced for several years. He had been a target for a few of Lockett’s single women, but he was so shy and quiet, they had given up. Besides, everyone knew he harbored a crush on the flamboyant Suzanne. Evidently unable to find the nerve to ask her out on a date, he used any excuse to see her.

"I'm surprised you aren't sleeping with Pat by now."

"He's willing, but I'm still thinking about it. I'm still sizing him up."

"He's
good-looking. And he’s a nice guy. I like him. He's good with horses. What are you doing in his arena with Buck? Why does your horse need to be in shape?"

"You never know when I might take up barrel racing again."

Empty talk. Jude knew horses. Buck might be pretty and might have a sweet personality, but he was no champion barrel horse. Nor was Suzanne a champion rider. She was thirty years old, twenty pounds overweight, out of shape and out of practice for years. Her barrel-racing days were as far gone as yesterday's passing tumbleweeds. At different times here and there, Jude had heard Suzanne say all of that herself.

When Jude didn't reply, Suzanne asked, "What's on your mind?"

Though she didn't feel like laughing, Jude managed a chuckle. "I must be transparent as cellophane. You're the second person today who's asked me that very question."

Suzanne laughed. She had a lusty, infectious laugh. She gripped her horse's halter and started him toward the gate. "Who was the first?"

"Jake." Jude walked alongside Buck on the opposite side, her palm on his shoulder.

"Naturally," Suzanne said. "That pretty man's got eyes like a hawk. Just one time I wish he'd train them on me. Honey, I'd give
that boy a ride for his money." She opened the gate and Buck clumped through into the sunny pasture.

"Good luck with that," Jude said, stuffing her hands into her back pockets and watching the horse lower his head and start munching. "If I didn't hear about him taking someone out on a date once in a while, I'd think he doesn't even like women."

Suzanne closed the gate and latched it, then pulled off the blue scarf that held back her hair. Layered bleached-blond curls fell past her shoulders. "Doesn't matter. I'm just mouthing. You know I'm through with men."

They began walking back toward the barn. "Until the next one comes along
,” Jude said. “You love men. And sex. It's just a matter of time before you're in bed with Pat."

Suzanne grinned impishly. "What can I say, girlfriend? Sometimes a girl just needs to get laid. Without getting involved, know what I mean?"

Jude's brow tugged into a frown. "You know, I can't recall a time when I've ever felt an urge to just get laid."

"Oops," Suzanne said,
still laughing. "I should have said except for you. I forgot you're not human."

Jude was more human than Suzanne, or anyone, would ever know. She simply had control over her urges. But more importantly, she had different priorities. She had a legacy to consider, a fact that lurked in the farthest recesses of her mind without letup.

Though no one had ever told her so, she believed with all her heart that the day would come when she would take Daddy's position as manager of the Circle C or even Grandpa's seat as the president of Strayhorn Corp. That conviction influenced and shaped every facet of her life. Meanwhile, while she waited for either event to occur, she had no desire to do something that might cause some former sex partner and even a scandal to come out of the woodwork to embarrass her father and grandfather.

But beyond all that, she didn't categorize sex as recreation. As a biologist, she knew of too many possible negative consequences. "Yes, I am," Jude said, irked because
Suzanne made her feel as if she had to justify not sleeping around.

"It can be just for fun, you know."

"Not for me."

They had reached Suzanne's small tack room. Jude leaned on the steel-pipe corral fence while Suzanne went inside. "You know what your problem is?" Suzanne said from inside the tack room. "You've never had it when it was really, really good. If you ever did, you'd be just like the rest of us poor deprived souls. You couldn't leave it alone."

Suzanne's favorite topic was sex. She could talk about it all day. "You don't know what I've had," Jude said, now even more annoyed. This wasn't the conversation she had come to her friend's house to have.

"Yes, I do. You've told me about the two losers you were engaged to."

Jude might have told Suzanne a few tidbits about Webb Henderson and Jason Weatherby, but she had never called them "losers." That was Suzanne's word. Jude might not admire or respect either of her former fiancés, but she had always been guarded with what she said about them. Their families were still friends of Daddy's and Grandpa's. "You can’t say they’re losers exactly. Webb's a partner in his daddy's law firm now. And Jason's an officer in his daddy's bank."

A snort came from inside the tack room. "I rest my case." Suzanne came back outside and closed the tack room door. "What would they be without their daddies?"

Jude had wondered the same thing but never said it.

"I thought you were going to
Lubbock to meet with the banker today," Suzanne said.

"That fell through. I came by to let you talk me into a good mood, but so far, you aren't doing a very good job."

Suzanne gave a thumbs-up. "But I can do it. I'm the queen of good cheer. They expecting you home for lunch?"

"No. They think I'm in
Lubbock."

"Wanna go up to the house? I'll find something in the fridge. Believe it or not, they started stocking Boar's Head in the meat department at Lucky's. I brought home some great ham. I'll feed you and you can tell me what's bugging you."

Jude shrugged. "Okay."

They began the trek toward the Breedlove house, a redbrick sixties-vintage ranch. "Suzanne, when we were kids, did you ever know a guy named Brady Fallon?"
Jude asked.

"Nope. Who is he?"

"The new owner of the 6-0."

Suzanne made a little gasp. "You are shitting me. He bought it?"

"Inherited it."

Suzanne clasped Jude's arm, halting their progress. "You are shitting me.
I thought that place was going up for sale. I thought Margie Wallace had no heirs."

Jude shrugged. "Yeah, well,
apparently she had
one
."

Suzanne removed her hand and they resumed walking. "Damn, girlfriend. That screws up your plans. We knew the guy as kids?"

Jude shoved her hands into her back pockets. "Yes and no. You might not have run across him and I was too young to remember him. He didn't go to school here. Jake says he ran around with him and Cable for a few summers."

"Huh," Suzanne grunted.

"Looks like I'd better tell the school I won't be quitting my job after all," Jude said sourly.

"Oh, my gosh, Jude. I didn't know you'd told them you were quitting. I thought you liked teaching those kids."

"I thought I’d get the 6-0. If I had, I was afraid I wouldn't have time to do a good job teaching. So I said I might not be back next year. We left it sort of open. Teachers aren’t standing in line to go to work for the Lockett school district, you know. They're waiting to hear from me."

Suzanne flicked her hand. "Oh, well, school won't start 'til the middle of August. That's more than two months away. You've got a little time to think about it."

"Not really. I can't just leave them hanging. Angela's waiting for me to tell her if I'll help her with girls' sports next year. If I don't, they need to have the time to find someone else. If I do, I'll have to start planning before mid-August."

"You don't have to do it, you know. It's not like you
need
a job."

To Jude's
chagrin, everyone—Daddy, Grandpa, even her friends—trivialized her accomplishments and her efforts to be a responsible citizen. Her family's wealth and position trumped everything else in people's minds. "I do have to, Suzanne. I have to be productive. You know that. I couldn't look myself in the mirror if I weren't."

Suzanne sighed. "I know, Jude. You're such a hardhead."

"Maybe so, but I couldn't stand living my life on a free ride. Where's the satisfaction in that? And as you say, I like teaching those kids. They look up to me."

"And I admire you for wanting to be something more than
being just another one of the idle rich. How's this? Since you can't get the 6-0 land, why don't you forget about the whole thing? If you've just got to have a job experimenting with something, move someplace where you can do what you've educated yourself to do. I'd hate to see you leave, but if you'd be happier..."

Jude shook her head. "The only people left to bring in some new ideas and keep the Circle C alive are me, Jake and Cable. Jake's a career cop.
That’s what he cares about. And Cable? Hell, who knows what Cable cares about. He never even comes around. I don’t remember the last time we saw him."

"Earth to Jude," Suzanne said, making a twirling motion at her temple with her finger. "It doesn't make any difference what
your cousins do. Your grandpa and your daddy have already proved they aren't about to let you and your ideas loose on that ranch. You're your daddy's little girl. And that's what him and your grandpa want you to be."

"What they want is for me to find a husband and become a birthing machine. Like one of the cows."

Suzanne hooted. "What they want is for you to produce an heir."

"I'm an heir."

"But they want a boy heir."

This was information Jude didn't need to be told. "This isn't medieval Europe, for
crying outloud." She exhaled a deep breath of frustration. "Can I help it if I was born without a penis dangling between my legs? Sometimes I feel like saying that to Daddy.”