Rough, Raw and Ready (36 page)

“That chunk of land borders ours on our southwest end.”

Chassie twisted her index finger around the cup handle. “I know. Which is why he’ll be contacting the McKays to see if you all are interested in addin’ to your spread.”

“Why?” Colt’s frown deepened. “Don’t you want it? That place’d be perfect to expand into.”

“Yeah. Well. I-I—”

“Stop stuttering and shut your mouth. Our family business ain’t none of the McKays’

business.”

Lousy time for her dad’s voice to interject an opinion. Chassie tried for nonchalance.

“Because we can’t afford it. Hardly enough cash on hand for operating expenses, say nothin’ of layin’ out a chunk of change for more. We talked to the banker and he agreed to a loan if we came up with cash collateral.”

“Who you dealin’ with at the bank?”

“Slim Jim Beal. He’s been more than fair, but we can’t come up with the ten percent down payment.”

“What dollar amount did you agree on with Gus?”

“Quarter of a million.” It hurt her stomach to even say a number that big.

Colt’s eyes became accusatory. “You say anything about this to my dad?”

Chassie shook her head.

“Cord? Colby?”

“No. I probably should’ve tonight when I had the chance. Right now, the twenty-five grand we need is as hard to come by as the two hundred thousand. We’re just sick about it, but ain’t nothin’ we can do.” Mortified by her admission, Chassie drained her milk.

“Thanks for keepin’ me company. I’m goin’ to bed.”

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Colt merely stared at her and crossed his arms over his chest. The sleeve of his T-shirt lifted, revealing a brightly colored tattoo on his biceps.

“When’d you get that?” She pointed at the tat.

He glanced down. “Last year.”

“What is it?”

“One of the four horseman of the apocalypse.”

“Can I see it?”

“Sure.” Colt rolled his sleeve to the top of his shoulder.

“Whoa. That’s gorgeous. India did that?”

“Yeah. She’s good, ain’t she?”

Chassie squinted at the flames that swirled around the horse’s hooves. “Yep, although it don’t seem like something you’d pick, cuz.”

“It ain’t.” Colt grimaced. “This is what you get when you leave the choice in the hands of a smartass tattoo artist. Indy thought it’d be hilarious tattooin’ a horse on me when my name is Colt. That woman is seriously warped from havin’ so many holes pierced in her head.” His gruff attitude belied his oddly affectionate tone.

“I’d love to have her design one for me one day when I can afford it. But you can be damn sure I ain’t gonna let her tattoo a car chassis on me.”

Colt rolled his sleeve back down. “She ain’t that expensive.”

“Money’s relative when you don’t have any.” She sighed. “Look, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say nothin’ about me’n Trevor havin’ to pass on Gus’s place. It’s hard enough to know we’re losin’ out, and havin’ the whole county gossiping about our financial troubles would just make it worse.”

“Don’t worry, Chass, I can keep my mouth shut and I’d suggest you do the same.”

“Meanin’ what?”

“Keepin’ things to yourself is a damn fine way to get to keep the things you want to yourself, know what I mean?”

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No. She had no clue. Chassie half-wondered if he’d overheard her conversation with Keely earlier this morning about having both Trevor and Edgard in her bed and in her life.

Colt did a curious thing. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Sweet dreams, sweet little cuz. See you in the morning.” Then Colt re-crossed his arms over his chest and turned back to the window, gazing into the night.

Feeling dismissed, Chassie crept back to her room, wondering how she could get to sleep without at least one warm body beside her.

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Chassie left the McKays around nine the next morning. She’d run a few errands for Aunt Carolyn, including driving to Moorcroft to talk to Kade and Skylar in person about Cam. Her cell phone died, which meant she hadn’t spoken to Trevor for twenty-four hours. She missed her husband. She missed home. She missed Edgard. She missed her damn goat.

Her head throbbed, her heart hurt, her jaw was sore from clenching her teeth to keep from bawling. She was an emotional wreck when she considered the jumbled messes in her life: Trevor’s status with his family, the situation with Edgard, losing out on Gus’s land, and dealing with family tragedies. All Chassie wanted was to climb in bed for three solid days. She damn near wept when the old farmhouse came into view.

And tears did leak out when both her men ambled up to the truck right after she’d parked.

“Missed you, baby.” Trevor pulled her into his arms and laid a big, wet kiss on her.

He frowned at her forehead. “What the hell happened to your face?”

“I knew I forgot to tell him something.” Edgard gave Trevor the abbreviated version of the run-in with Greta, which didn’t appease Trevor at all.

“That goddamn goat was a bad idea. We shoulda talked about buyin’ it first.”

“You’re the one who’s always bitchin’ about me talkin’ stuff to death, Trev.”

“That is true,” Edgard added.

“Shut up, Ed.” Trevor traced the area around the bandage that looked a little worse for the wear. “Does it hurt?”

“Actually, yeah. I forgot my painkillers and antibiotics here because I didn’t expect to be at the McKays’ that long.” Chassie nestled her face into Trevor’s chest. “I wanna shower and then I wanna crawl in bed.”

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Edgard grabbed her hand and rubbed his mouth over the inside of her wrist. “Missed you. I’m glad you’re home and I won’t let Trevor kill Greta. I’ll make certain he treats her with kid gloves while you’re resting up.”

Trevor snorted.

Tires crunched and a big white Dodge Dually crept up the driveway. It wasn’t a vehicle Chassie recognized until she saw the big winch sticking out of the front. She muttered, “Shit,” under her breath.

“Who is it?” Edgard asked.

“Colt McKay,” Trevor answered. “What the hell is he doin’ here?”

“I hope it’s not more bad news about Cam.”

The truck bounced as Colt stepped off the chrome running board. He’d taken to wearing ball caps rather than cowboy hats during the workday. Chassie thought Colt seemed more accessible, not a larger than life drop-dead gorgeous cowboy in his prime who hid his eyes and emotions under the brim of a big black hat.

Colt thrust out his hand to Edgard. “If it ain’t the Brazilian. I heard you were around these parts. Nice seein’ you again.”

“You too, Colt.”

Edgard knew Colt? Then Chassie realized Edgard must’ve met Colby’s family members at various rodeo events in the years they traveled together.

After Colt shook Trevor’s hand, he faced Ed again and asked, “How long you stayin’, Edgard?”

The moment of truth. A collective pause hung in the air as Chassie waited for someone—anyone—to answer.

Trevor clapped Edgard on the back. “Ed’s decided to move here with us. Ain’t that great?”

Relief so profound swept through Chassie she almost crumpled to the ground and wept.

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“Sure is.” Colt smiled. “I’ll look forward to seein’ you around. I suppose with you partnerin’ up with Trevor again there ain’t a chance in hell that Kade and I will ever win the team ropin’ championship at the Devil’s Tower Rodeo, eh?”

Edgard grinned back. “You can try.”

“That you can bank on.” Colt turned to Chassie. “Thanks for comin’ over yesterday.

I didn’t get a chance to say thank you this mornin’ with all the hullabaloo that’s goin’

on.”

“No problem. What’s up? Something new with Cam?”

“No. My folks are already workin’ on gettin’ Cam transferred to the VA hospital in Cheyenne.”

“How’s he doin’? Have you talked to him?”

Colt frowned. “No. He ain’t talkin’ to nobody. Anyway, the good news is Macie had the baby about an hour ago. A boy named Parker. They’re both fine.”

“And you drove all the way out here to tell me that?”

“Yeah. No. Hell.” He paused. “The other reason I’m here is ’cause you left before I got to talk to you about something else.” Alone was heavily implied.

Dammit, she didn’t want to talk to Colt. She wanted to talk to Trevor and Edgard.

Trevor frowned. “Will this take long? ’Cause Chassie’s exhausted.”

“Not to mention she’s injured and she needs to get some rest,” Edgard said.

“Won’t take long at all.”

“We’ll be back in about ten minutes, baby.” The men headed to the machine shed.

“Trevor’s real protective of you, ain’t he?” Colt said.

“Yeah.”

“So’s Edgard.”

She squirmed, not sure how much she should reveal.

“That’s good, Chass. Real good. You’re lucky you’ve got two good men watchin’

out for you. You deserve it. Don’t ever let nobody tell you otherwise.”

Chassie’s stomach pitched in a mixture of fear, exhaustion and emotional turmoil.

“Colt, why are you here? What’s really goin’ on?”

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Colt took off his hat, crumpled it in his hands and looked over Chassie’s left shoulder. “Last night when we were talkin’ in Ma’s sittin’ room, something you said started to bug me.” Colt ran his fingers through his hair before he settled his cap back on his head.

“It’s been eatin’ me up all damn day, that’s why I followed you out here. The only excuse I can give you for forgettin’ is that…well, I was a drunk. There’s a whole helluva lot I don’t remember.” Colt reached in his inside jacket pocket and shoved an envelope at her. “Here.”

“What is this?”

“Open it and I’ll explain.” Colt jammed his hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels.

Chassie loosened the flap, reaching inside the envelope for a piece of paper. She pulled it out, gaping at it before she glanced up at her cousin in complete shock. “What the hell? This is a check for twenty-five thousand dollars!”

“I know. It’s ah…yours.”

“Mine? What? It can’t be.”

“It is. The money belonged to Dag. Over the years he, ah, sent me some of his rodeo winnings too.”

Skeptical, Chassie said, “Oh really?”

“Uh-huh.” Colt focused on the upper bedroom window above the porch—anywhere besides her face. “See, Dag and I were gonna…start a bar when he retired from the circuit. He knew if he kept the money with him or in his bank account where he could access it, it’d be gone in a New York minute. So he mailed it to me and I deposited it for him.”

“And you
just
remembered this?”

“Only when you mentioned the bank account Uncle Harland didn’t know nothin’

about, I realized I probably was supposed to’ve been puttin’ the money in there. Instead I deposited it in my own account.” Restless, Colt shifted his stance and studied the tips of 286

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his boots. “An honest oversight and one I’m sincerely sorry about. So since Dag is dead, I figure the money is yours now.”

“Bullshit.”

Colt finally looked at her. “Excuse me?”

Chassie whapped him in the chest with the envelope. “Is it a coincidence this just happens to be the
exact
amount of money we need to guarantee a bank loan for Gus’s land? And isn’t it another
coincidence
you just happened to remember my brother—who never had two nickels to rub together—gave you
exactly
the same amount of money to squirrel away for him?”

At least Colt had the decency to look sheepish.

Pride caused Chassie to snap, “I don’t want charity. Especially not from the McKays.” She stuffed the check in his outside coat pocket and spun on her heel, humiliation vibrating in every fiber of her body.

Lightning fast, Colt stepped in front of her. “Hey, now, wait a darn minute and listen to me.”

“No way. I am so pissed off at you right now, Colt McKay, it isn’t even funny.”

“Hear me out. Please.”

Chassie glanced up at him. The last time she’d seen him so distressed was after he’d heard Dag died. Pain and regret and…tears? shimmered in Colt’s bright blue eyes.

Dammit. She was such a sucker. “Fine. After you answer a question for me.”

“Anything.”

“Did you honestly believe I’d be that gullible? Just take the check and skip to the bank not questioning my sudden good fortune?”

“Ah, actually, yeah, I had hoped that’d be the case.”

A growl-like snarl escaped and she sidestepped him.

“But I expected you’d at least hear me out and not be as stubborn as your daddy.”

Chassie whirled, tired, angry, frustrated and ready to pop him one square in the mouth.

Colt grinned at her. “Knew that one’d get your back up, Sassy Chassie.”

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Her old nickname brought a smile. “Funny, Colt the Dolt.”

“Now that that’s out of the way, will you at least listen to me?”

She sighed. “I suppose.”

“First off. What I said wasn’t a complete lie. At one time Dag did send me money. I don’t recall how much. Coupla hundred bucks probably. Anyway, when I heard how badly you wanted Gus’s place, but couldn’t swing the down payment, I thought this was the least I could do to help you out.”

“Why do you want to help me?”

“I could give you a bullshit answer and say because you’re family. But the truth is, Dag and Uncle Harland died leavin’ you holdin’ an empty bag with no means to refill it and that don’t seem fair.”

“Your family’s always had more money than us, Colt,” she said tactfully. “I don’t begrudge you for it like my dad did.”

“You should. At least my ma squirreled away the money Granddad West left us.”

“What money?”

Colt’s face was troubled. “Granddad West left each grandkid ten thousand bucks.”