B00DVWSNZ8 EBOK (32 page)

Suzanne shook her head. “I can’t believe this. This is better than a soap opera.”

"Brady doesn't like sneaking around,” Jude said. “He wanted us to tell Daddy. He thinks my father's a reasonable man. But Windy ratted us out before I got a chance to talk to Daddy, which only made things worse."

Suddenly overwhelmed by all that had happened in such a short time, she dropped her face into her hands. "Oh, God, Suzanne, sometimes I feel like I'm in jail."

"Well, it's a damn nice jail," Suzanne said. "I'd share a cell with you just to get to wear your jewelry." She sat back and sipped her tea.

"I used to think Daddy and Grandpa would eventually tire of trying to run my life. But I just realized driving over here, I'm never going to have a life as long as I live at the ranch. I couldn't even move into town and get away from them." She sat back in her chair and sighed. "I think I'll go to Fort Worth. I should be able to do something there. Teach, maybe. I could teach in one of the colleges.
Or maybe I should go back to school and get my doctorate. Then I could teach in a university."

"You're going to just up and abandon Brady? After he took a risk for you?"

"His life is here in Lockett now. He might not be working for the Circle C in the future, but he still has the 6-0. Even if he wanted me to be with him, with Grandpa so greedy for that 6-0 land, how could I? Even Daddy doesn't know what Grandpa might try. He’s a shrewd old guy. Ruthless, too. And he knows everyone in Texas."

"I can't believe your dad and your granddad would do something to hurt you, Jude."

"They've already done things to hurt me."

"But not deliberately. Not maliciously."

"What difference does it make? The result is still the same. Do you know what my life would’ve been like if I had married Webb Henderson? Or Jason Weatherby? Miserable, that's what. And I don't think either Daddy or Grandpa has ever considered that. Webb's a horrible human being and Jason isn't much better. I don’t think he even likes girls. But now, in the irony of ironies, Daddy has no compunction about damaging someone who's a good person—someone I care about."

"Does Brady know you're the one who offered to buy his land?"

"No. And God willing, he never will. Brady's proud. He would be so pissed off. I've withdrawn the offer and sworn Fred Whitmore to secrecy."

"I suppose the bottom line, here, girlfriend, is how do you really feel about Brady? Are you in love with him?"

Jude looked into her eyes, her throat tight. "I don't know. I just know I think about him all the time. No matter what I'm doing, he's in the back of my mind. I turn to jelly when I'm close to him. But no better than I know myself these days, it might be just the sex I like. It's so incredible with him, like nothing I've ever known."

"See?" Suzanne said softly. "Now you know why I stayed with Mitch about five years longer than I should have."

They continued to talk, moving on from discussing Jude's unsolvable problems to more talk about Pat Garner. Soon the suppertime hour at the Circle C had passed. Suzanne put a pizza in the oven and they ate it and drank beer on the back porch. When Jude mentioned going home, Suzanne said, "Stay here tonight, girlfriend. You know we've got an extra bed."

Jude stayed. For the first time in her life, she stayed away from home in anger.

When Brady showed up at the Circle C cookhouse for breakfast the next morning, J.D. was already there. Breakfast talk concerned the coming fall sale and a new stud J.D. had negotiated for in Amarillo. After breakfast, J.D. caught up with him outside and they strolled toward the corral attached to the big barn where Clary Harper was working with a one-year-old.

"Good trip?" Brady asked, chewing on a toothpick. He wondered if Jude had talked to him. They reached the corral fence and hooked their arms over the top rail, watching Clary work the colt. "I sure like the looks of that colt," J.D. said. "He's one of Sandy Dandy's."

Brady nodded. "He's a catty little thing. I like that in a horse."

"I need to talk to you about something, Brady."

Yep, Jude had told him.
Brady angled a look at J.D., but the man stared straight ahead, showing only his profile.

"To tell you the truth, Brady, I don't know where to begin
," J.D. said.

"Try the beginning," Brady
replied.

"My, uh, daughter, um, mentioned that..."
He cleared his throat. "Uh, mentioned that, uh—"

"Want me to make this easier, J.D.? Jude and I want to see each other. And we don't want to do it behind your back."

"Right. And I'm grateful for that. And Jude is what I want to talk to you about. She didn't come home last night. I, uh, thought...well, I thought—"

"You thought she was with me? Well, she wasn't.”
Apparently Jude's meeting with her dad hadn't gone well. Brady wished he had been the one to tell J.D. “I didn't get home from Abilene until late," he added.

J.D. turned and gave him a blank look. "Well, then, where is she?"

Good question,
Brady thought, now concerned. His heartbeat kicked up. "Beats me."

"She and I had a, um, disagreement yesterday afternoon. She left here upset. She's probably at Suzanne's house."

He plucked his cell phone from his belt and punched in a number. Brady watched and listened as J.D. confirmed that Jude was at her girlfriend's house. J.D. asked her about coming home, as if she were a teenager. He soon disconnected and hooked his phone back on his belt. Brady hadn't seen a grown man so flustered in a long time.

"She spent the night at Suzanne Breedlove's house," he said, obviously relieved.

Now Clary was trotting the colt in a circle. "I guess I'd like to, uh, know your intentions toward my daughter," J.D. said, his eyes on the yearling.

What did a thirty-four-year-old man say to a father who asked that
questions about his twenty-nine-year-old daughter? "I intend for us to spend time together. Get to know each other. I hope something comes of it. Jude's a wonderful person."

J.D. turned and faced him, resting his elbow on the fence rail. "That's all?"

What the hell did J.D. expect? Brady looked at the colt, not knowing what to say.

"Look, let me be candid, Brady
,” J.D. said. “For you and Jude to be, uh, to be—well, this presents a helluva dilemma for me and for this ranch. I've put you in a position of trust. You can see how it looks, you taking up with Jude and, uh, the two of you—"

Sex
was the word J.D. was having a hard time wrapping his mouth around. But he surely must have known she'd had some kind of sexual relationship with the two men she had been engaged to. Perhaps those affairs occurring outside Willard County made a difference.

Embarrassed, Brady would allow this conversation to go only so far. "I won't insult your intelligence, J.D., by telling you Jude and I haven't been
…close."

"I know. I know. She told me. Look, I don't know how much you know about her past. She's immature where men are concerned. She's been engaged twice. To men my dad and I thought would make good husbands, but—"

"J.D., your daughter's not a little kid. She's a smart, accomplished woman. She’s able to do her own thinking. And she’s old enough to decide what she wants."

The man gave a great sigh, then faced Brady with a wide, insincere grin. "She certainly is and you seem to be what she wants."

J.D.'s behavior gave little indication of how he felt about that. Brady waited for further comment, but J.D. turned his attention back to Clary, who was leading the colt into the barn.

He reset his hat and adjusted his glasses. "I've been thinking on this, Brady. I thought about it all night, in fact. The easiest solution for all of us would be for you and Jude to just get married. As you say, she's smart and she's attractive. I'm sure she'll make a good wife. She certainly comes with a dowry."

Brady's brow shot up. "Did you say dowry?"

"Cows. I know you want a cattle herd of your own. I'd be willing to set you up with breeding stock, no strings attached. Margie Wallace's place ought to easily feed a couple hundred head. You can take your pick. I'm sure my dad would go along with that. We'd just call it a wedding present."

Brady could scarcely believe his ears. "J.D., I'm in no position to take on a wife at this moment. I'm not saying the day won't come, but—"

"Fallon, you're in no position not to." J.D.'s demeanor and expression had changed quicker than a snap. "Not if you want to continue an association with this ranch. This is my daughter's home and Lockett is her hometown. As well as mine. If you're going to...going to continue to enjoy her company
and whatever the two of you have got going on, you're damn well going to marry her."

Fury crawled up Brady's spine, along with sympathy for Jude. "Since we're being frank, J.D., I'm gonna leave this conversation with this. I took on the job as general manager in good faith, intending to be a loyal administrator. My interest or disinterest in Jude had nothing to do with it."

They faced off for a few seconds, glaring. J.D. broke first and stalked toward his house.

Several minutes later, J.D.'s truck passed on the way to the front gate. Clary Harper walked out of the barn. "Where's the boss going? He upset about something?"

"Don't know exactly," Brady lied. "Listen, Clary, I'm gonna go to my house and get my horse trailer and haul Sal home. She's been here long enough."

"Whatever you want to do, Brady, but she's not any trouble. Fact is, I like having her around. Jude wants to breed
her and Patch. I was hoping you'd consider doing that. We haven't had a baby paint around here in a long time."

Just then, Jude's truck came up the road and Brady wondered if she had met her dad as she came in. She parked in front of the garage and walked into the house without so much as a look toward the barns. "I might just go over and have a talk with Jude about that now," Brady said, and headed for the ranch house's back door.

Chapter 26

Brady knocked on the back door and asked for Jude. Lola Mendez let him in and told him she was in her office. He removed his hat as the housekeeper led him up the short hall and pointed to a doorway.
He hadn’t seen much of her office, had yet been invited all the way into it. Peeking inside, he saw a bright, cheerful room in disarray—a couple of unpacked cardboard boxes, a framed picture on a chair, flat surfaces scattered with papers and documents. Jude was standing behind a desk, her long hair pulled back and clipped at her neck. A memory of her standing in his kitchen wearing his bathrobe sprang to his mind and he had to resist the urge to take her in his arms. "Hey," he said, and smiled.

She looked up, her brows rising. "Brady. I wasn't expecting you."

Fatigue showed on her face. No doubt she'd had a sleepless night. She had waged a battle that might appear simple to some, but to her, it was an outright rebellion.

"Stopped by to say good morning," he said, entering the room.

"Have you seen Daddy?" She had yet to smile.

"Just talked to him over at the round paddock."

"Was he...mean?"

He would never tell her that her father had tried to use her to strike a marriage bargain. "I'll just say we didn't part seeing eye to eye on much besides Sandy Dandy's colt. But he's okay."

She nodded, but tension emanated from her, almost as visible as summer heat waves.

He looked around the room, then cautiously glanced back in her direction. She had that taut fragile look, like she might break into pieces. He hated empty talk, but he said, "I like your new spot. It looks like you."

A weak smile passed over her full lips. "Well, I haven't put everything away. And I don't exactly have a real desk yet."

He nodded, noticing now that her desk was a table. A familiar-looking piece of paper on the corner caught his eye. He didn't mean to snoop, but the paper looked so familiar, he couldn't not look at it. It was a real estate purchase contract. It looked like the document that had been presented to him by the real estate broker from
Lubbock. Just to be certain he wasn't seeing things, he laid his hat on the table and picked up the contract.

Jude looked across the table at him, bug-eyed, then grabbed for the contract. But he moved it to the side, away from her reach.

"You have no right to take something off my desk," she said sharply.

He looked more closely at the document. To verify what his eyes had already told him, he thumbed to the back page and saw Fred Whitmore's signature below the typed phrase "Buyer's name to be disclosed on acceptance."

"What is this?" he asked, looking up at her and schooling his voice not to sound harsh.

She stood still, her wide-eyed gaze glued to his, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Brady—"

"What is this?" he asked again. "You
tried to buy the 6-0?...In secret?" As this revelation sunk in, bitterness and distrust spread through him like black mud. "And I thought it was your granddad I had to worry about."

"Brady, I can—"

"Don't. Just don't."

He tossed the contract back onto her desk, picked up his hat and walked out, hanging on to the hat brim to keep from wrapping his hands around her neck and strangling her. He had trusted her, had taken risks for her. Had she been scheming behind his back from the start?

Setting his hat on, Brady strode across the barn lots.
Women.
A man couldn't trust a single damn one of them. It didn't matter if you were married, shacked up or just fucking—they were all the same. Jude was no different from Marvalee. And J.D. was no different from Marvalee's father. Hell, the Strayhorns were more dangerous than Marvalee's father. They had more money and influence than Marvin Lee Erickson.

He walked into the vet clinic, on into the office that had never really been his office, found a blank piece of paper and wrote out his resignation. He placed it on top of the desk in plain view, weighted it with a horseshoe and walked to his truck.

He had just moved on to Plan B. Not his plan of choice, but he could see now it was a helluva lot less complicated than Plan A.

Women,
he thought again. On the day of his divorce two and a half years ago, he had vowed never to make another commitment to a female. He should have remembered that before he stepped into Jude's trap.

Jude clutched her elbows tightly as if letting go might make her fly apart. She made no attempt to chase after Brady. What could she say? How could she ever explain? She wilted to a wicker chair and stared outside at the barns. And that's where she was when her father
barged through the back door. He had a piece of paper in his hand.

He saw her from the hallway and
stamped into the room, looking around. He was obviously uncomfortable.

"This looks nice," he said, as if trying to sound normal.
But his quick movements and strained voice told her he was anxious. "It'll be comfortable and pretty when you get organized. Penny Ann would be pleased you're using her room, punkin."

"Daddy,
how many times do I have to ask you to please not call me that silly name. I hate it." She stood.

"I worried when you didn't come home last night."

She snorted. "I'm surprised you didn't have Jake out looking for me."

"We don't need the law to resolve our family issues, Jude."

"Right. And we don't want to have anything to do with Jake, anyway, do we?"

She started for the doorway. She didn't know where she was headed, but she had to get away
from him.

"Jude, wait. We need to talk."

"No, Daddy, you need to talk.
We
...never talk. You talk and I listen. And more times than not, I've always done what you said. You need to know that has changed."

"Jude, listen—"

"See? This is exactly what I just said. I do not want to listen. Listening to you and Grandpa has caused me nothing but grief."

She turned to leave the room again.

"Jude," he said, his voice elevated and hard. "Come back in here and talk to me." She stopped and leveled a heated glare at him. "I have some things to tell you," he said more softly.

Nothing could have kept her from scowling and snapping, "What?
What else do you have to say that I do not want to hear?"

He sat down on the serape-covered cushion of the wicker love seat and laid the paper he had in his hand on the tiny wicker coffee table in front of the love seat.

Her eyes narrowed, moving from the paper to his eyes. "What is that?"

He peered up at her but hesitated a few seconds. "Brady's resignation."

Now she thought her insides really might just go ahead and fly apart. "He's quit? You asked him to resign?"

"No."

She huffed a bitter laugh. "Then why would he?"

"I want you to know
something, Jude. I'm trying to salvage this whole thing, but it’s not easy." He slashed the air with his flattened hand. "I'm trying to make a deal with him. I've made him a fair offer."

Her brain felt as if a javelin had passed through it. Her brow tugged into a frown. "Offer? What are you talking about?"

He stood up and planted his hands on his belt. "I told him I couldn't have the two of you, uh..."

"Sleeping together, Daddy." She wanted to say
fucking around
, but she couldn't bring herself to say that to her father.

"I told him if that's what he, er, you, uh... both of you want, then you two should get married. I told him you'd been engaged to other men and it hasn't worked out. I told him I realize he's apparently the one you want."

Jude was stunned speechless. Her eyes bugged so hard, she thought they might pop out of their sockets.

"I told him you don't come without a dowry," her father went on. "I said I'd set him up with a small cattle herd. I figure that Wallace place will support
a couple hundred head."

Jude
’s arms went rigid. Her hands fisted." A bribe? You bribed someone to marry me? My God, Daddy. You didn't sink to
that
depth even with Webb and Jason. Are you out of your mind? Are you so self-absorbed here in this... this limestone fortress that you don't even know how a normal human being would react to that?" Her head throbbed. "Brady wouldn't consider something so outrageous."

Her
father's brown eyes held hers. "He didn't turn it down, Jude. He resigned from the GM job, but I think he could be thinking about the offer."

Suddenly Jude couldn't breathe, couldn't find words, wondered how she even remained standing. She unclenched her fists and splayed her fingers. "This is insane. I feel like I'm living in a
…in a friggin’ asylum." She started for the door again.

"Where're you going?"

"Upstairs. I'm worn-out."

"You go on. Get some rest now. It'll soon be dinnertime. I think we're the only ones here to eat. We can talk then, after you've settled down."

"I will not be settling down. And I will not be eating dinner."

She tramped upstairs on shaky knees. Brady's smile loomed in her mind all the way to her bedroom. She would never stand in the light of those sky blue eyes again. For the first time in her life, she had wanted something more desperately than she wanted to run the Circle C. And her father had destroyed it. But worse than that, she had helped. She thought of her great-grandmother, Penelope Ann. This could only be more of the Campbell Curse.

She hadn't been in her room more than fifteen minutes before she heard quick, heavy boot steps in the hall. She opened the door to see her father standing there with the real estate purchase contract in his hand. His face was a thundercloud. He shook the contract at her. "Jude, what are you doing?"

A week later, Jude's life at the Circle C had changed in ways she would have never thought possible. She had shredded the real estate contract. Her father again had the reins of the Circle C firmly in hand. On the surface, in an overstated display, the household appeared to be calm—but underneath
the calm surface, the ambience was as brittle as dried sticks.

She no longer had drinks with her father at the cocktail hour, nor did she walk with Grandpa in the evenings. She didn't even eat dinner and supper with Daddy and Grandpa. She excused herself by saying she had to do work for the start of school. She rode Patch every day, exploring parts of the ranch she hadn't ridden to in months, if not years. She spent her evenings constructing her resume but had difficulty filling a whole page, even when she adjusted the margins.

Suzanne called her every day, trying to persuade her to go here or go there. She did go to town every day to eat at Maisie's. Sometimes Suzanne accompanied her. Jude listened as her best friend raved about Pat Garner’s attributes. But while she was glad for Suzanne's happiness with a new boyfriend, hearing about it only worsened Jude's mood.

In her mind, she saw herself going to Brady's house and explaining away her attempt to buy his land behind his back for a below-market price. She would park in front of the rickety old porch. He would hear her pickup engine and come outside. There, the fantasy ended because she knew that in reality, he would probably ask her to leave.

Brady was now headed in a different—and less desirable—direction. He had applied for a line of credit at an Abilene bank, using part of the 6-0 land as collateral. He was waiting for an appraiser to arrive and assess its value. Once he had the money, he figured he would start out with a hundred head of cows and two or three bulls. Bad time of year to be starting, but he had to make do.

Next week, Andy and Jarrett would be showing up to spend the week with him before the beginning of school. He was still negotiating with Marvalee on custody, but he believed that his ex-wife
was tired of being a parent.

He was painting one of the bedrooms, getting it ready for the boys, when he heard the clatter of a diesel engine in his driveway. He walked outside just in time to see Jude's truck come to a stop. He had tied a bandana on his head to avoid paint spatter in his hair. He peeled it off and shoved his hand through his hair.

"Hi," she said, looking up at him, her hands stuffed into the back pockets of her jeans. She had on those damn sunglasses that hid half her face, but she looked pretty and sexy. He stuffed the bandana into his hip pocket. "What's up?"

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Nothing much. I just dropped by."

He nodded.

"How're the horses?"

"Great."

"I'll bet they...
miss me."

Her head turned and she looked out over the pasture where the horses grazed in the sun. His jaw clenched, but he stepped down off the porch. She removed the sunglasses and squinted up at him. "Brady, I—I came to say I'm sorry."

He didn't want to hear her apology. Hell. What he wanted was to have never gotten his personal life crossed up with the Circle C in the first place, but it was too late for that. "Don't worry about it. Sh—Stuff happens."