The Littlest Cowboy (12 page)

“There’s a family plot, Chelsea,” Jessi said softly, and Garrett thought she sounded close to tears. “And, well, you and little Ethan, you’re just like family now.”

Chelsea opened her eyes with something like awe flooding their green depths. She stared at Jessi, then turned her gaze to each of the others in the room, one by one. And one by one, Elliot, Wes and finally Garrett nodded in agreement.

“You’d…you’d let me bring Michele here? Let me…”

“It’s a beautiful plot,” Jessi said.

“Mamma would approve,” Elliot added. “She’d have said it was right.”

Chelsea just shook her head, staring at them as if in disbelief.

“I’ll take care of things,” Garrett told her. “We’ll do it quietly. No one besides us need know where Michele is laid to rest. For now, at least.”

Chelsea’s eyes grew moist as she scanned the faces in the room. “There is no way to tell you what this means to me…what it would have meant to my sister.” Her gaze settled on Jessi. “Thank you, Jessi. I wish…I wish I could accept. But I can’t.”

Jessi frowned, tilting her head.

“Michele would want to be near our mother. I’m going to make arrangements to take her back home to New York.” She lifted her gaze to Garrett’s. “I’d like to do it soon. The idea of her spending even one more night in that horrible room…” Her eyes fell closed and she shook her head slowly.

Garrett bit his lip to keep his objections to himself. This was no time for Chelsea to be hightailing it back to New York. Deep in his gut, he had a feeling that told him not to let her go. Not now. Maybe not for quite a while.

“I think the littlest cowboy on the Texas Brand has fallen asleep,” Wes observed, his voice a bit gruff. He rose awkwardly, moving slow so he wouldn’t disturb the sleeping child in his arms.

Jessi rose. “I’ll take him up.”

“That’s all right,” Wes said. “I can handle it.” He looked up from the baby, noticed the surprised gazes of his siblings and shrugged. “Passing him around would wake him up, is all.’’

Jessi and Elliot smirked, but Wes ignored them, tip-toeing up the stairs with the infant. Jessi turned to Elliot. “Guess I’ll turn in, too. It’s getting late.’.’

“Late?” Elliot replied. “It’s only-”

Jessi kicked his shin and scowled at him.

“Oh. Hey, it’s later than I realized,” he amended without a single glance at his watch. “Well, guess I’ll hit the hay, as well. Good night, Chelsea. Garrett.”

“Night,” Chelsea replied.

Garrett only frowned. Those two rarely took to their beds before the late news, unless they were angry with him for something or other. Or up to no good. They hadn’t been pouting, so he suspected the latter. The question was, what plot were the two villains hatching?

“I hope they understand,” Chelsea said softly.

Garrett turned to her, stared into her forest green eyes and got lost for just a second. “Don’t worry. They do.”

“I should probably call that place tomorrow. Make arrangements to have Michele sent home.”

“I could do that for you, if you—’’

“No. No, Michele is my sister. The only family I have…had…except for Ethan. I’ll take care of her.”

He nodded, wishing this feeling of foreboding would leave the pit of his stomach. He really didn’t have any legal grounds to keep Chelsea here. None at all. So he supposed he’d have to let her go.

The shrill of the telephone cut into his thoughts, and he got slowly to his feet to walk to the kitchen and pick it up. His greeting was cut off, as well, by a deep voice. A level voice. One he didn’t recognize.

“The child’s father is Vincent de Lorean. And he knows his son is with you.”

“Who is this?” Garrett demanded, his grip tightening on the receiver.

“De Lorean wants Chelsea Brennan dead, Brand. She isn’t safe. Not there and not in New York. She is the only person alive who could fight de Lorean for custody of that baby and stand a chance of winning. He wants to eliminate that possibility. He has men watching her apartment. They’ll grab her the second she sets foot there. Do you understand?”

“How could he…”

“He’s a powerful man, Brand. A dangerous man. Don’t let the woman or the child out of your sight. Not for a second. If you do, he’ll have them both.”

“But–”

There was a click, then silence. Garrett jiggled the cut-off but to no avail. Finally, he hung up the phone, shaking his head, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now.

“Garrett?”

Chelsea came to stand beside him, and she had to know damned well something was wrong. Garrett never had been any good at hiding his feelings.

“What is it?”

He shook his head. Not for all the world would he tell her anything that would put the ice-cold fear back into those pretty green eyes. He forced a smile. “Nothing, Chelsea. Nothing that can’t wait until morning.”

She relaxed a little. Still nervous. But calmer. It hit him that maybe she trusted him just a little bit. He vowed then and there he wouldn’t let her down.

She yawned, and his smile became a genuine one. “You’re sleepy. Go on up to bed, Chelsea. I’m gonna do the same myself soon as I lock up for the night.”

She nodded, turned to go up the stairs, then stopped and faced him again. “You’ve been good to me and to Ethan,” she said softly. “I owe you for that.”

“You don’t owe us a thing, Chelsea.”

“I do. I’ll repay you someday.”

And she headed up the stairs without another word.

“V
incent de Lorean?”
Wes shook his head, pacing the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hand. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, painting the ranch house’s front windows a pale orange, like candle glow.

“None other. Biggest organized-crime figure in the state of Texas. Has ties to the Molinaire syndicate in New York.”

“Well, hell, Garrett, we can’t just let her go back there. She’d be walking right into their hands.”

“Exactly. The question is, how do I convince her to stay?”

“You tell her the truth.” Wes set his half-filled mug on the table and leaned over it, searching his brother’s face.

“And see her go back to being terrified again?”

“What choice do you have? She’s bound and determined to hop a jet for New York City at the first opportunity. Hell, Garrett, what else can you do?”

Garrett frowned. The same question had been nagging at him all night, and he thought he’d come up with some kind of solution. Not an easy one. But maybe the only one. “If I can do some digging, find evidence to tie de Lorean to Michele’s murder, I can put him away, Wes.”

“And since when are you some kind of super-cop, big brother? You really think you can do what every cop in the state of Texas, not to mention the FBI, has been trying to do for five years or more? If it was that easy to get the dirt on de Lorean, he’d have been in prison years ago.”

“So what would you suggest? Let her go to New York and read about her body being found the next day? Or maybe I tell her all this, and she takes off like a scared rabbit, goes into hiding somewhere with Ethan. How far did that kind of plan get her sister?”

Wes lowered his head and sighed. “Okay. Okay. When you’re right, you’re right. But while you dig up dirt on de Lorean, you have to find a way to keep Chelsea Brennan right here, where we can protect her from that bastard. What brilliant plan have you come up with to accomplish that?”

“Nothing.” Garrett shook his head, feeling panic well up in his gut…again.

“It’s simple.” Jessi stepped in from the dining room, and Garrett started in surprise.

“Dammit, Jes, did you ever hear of a private conversation?”

“No such thing as privacy in this family.” She walked to the coffeepot, took a mug from the tree and filled it.

When Elliot came in after her, Garrett stifled a groan. “Great. This is just great.”

“You oughtta be glad we overheard you, brother,” Elliot quipped, pulling out a chair and lowering his lanky body into it. “Sounded like you were fresh out of ideas.”

“Oh, and I suppose you two have the perfect solution?”

“Sure we do.” Jessi added sugar to her coffee and stirred slowly, her eyes twinkling. “If you want Chelsea to stay with us, Garrett, all you have to do is give her a reason.”

Garrett rolled his eyes. “Now why didn’t I think of that?”

“Don’t be sarcastic,” Jessi said. “Garrett, maybe you haven’t noticed, but Chelsea Brennan
likes
you.”

“She likes all of us, Jes–”

“No. I mean, she
really likes
you.”

Garrett went as still as stone as his little sister’s meaning sank in. Then he battled an urge to strangle her. “Don’t be stupid.”

Jessi pouted. Elliot stretched his legs, leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “Garrett Brand, you are one dense cowboy if you think Jessi’s wrong about this. Hell, I didn’t see Chelsea wrapped up in
Wes’s
arms last night. Nor mine, either, for that matter. It was you she was clinging to while she cried.”

Garrett felt his jaw drop and his eyes widen. “You–”

“Now, Garrett, we weren’t snooping. Just coming in from the barn, and there you were, big as life, hugging the stuffin’ outta that little lady.”

“You got it all wrong!” Garrett walked away from them, pushing his hands through his hair. “Dammit, she was upset, is all–”

“It was more than that, Garrett.” Jessi came up behind him, put her hands on his shoulders. “Women know about these things. She’s soft on you, I can tell.”

“That’s gotta be the most ridiculous…. Why would she…? I don’t….” He gave up trying to speak, because words just plain deserted him. Confusion took over instead, and he turned a questioning gaze on Wes.

Wes shrugged. “They have a point. Look, Garrett, nobody’s saying you gotta go cow-eyed over the woman. But maybe if you just sweet-talked her a little–”

“I can’t believe you guys!” Garrett spun around, ready to tell them all how ridiculous the very notion was–and saw Chelsea just coming into the kitchen. Her hair was all tousled and her big green eyes were sleepy. When she looked at him, she smiled softly, and Garrett’s big heart flipped upside down and began to fill with a kind of panic he’d never felt in his whole damned life.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice deep and rusty.

Garrett mouthed “mornin”‘ but no sound came out. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“You’re just in time,” Jessi said, grinning from ear to ear. “We were just saying how rude we’ve been. Why, we haven’t even shown you around the ranch yet. And it’s really something to see.”

Chelsea’s auburn brows rose.

“Do you ride?” Elliot asked her.

Garrett held his breath.

“No,” she replied, and Garrett sighed in relief. “But I’ve always wanted to try.”

His heart performed some more acrobatics he hadn’t realized it was capable of.

“Good for you,” Elliot all but shouted. “Garrett rides the fence lines every morning to check things out. Perfect chance for you to try your seat. Isn’t it, Garrett?”

“She can take Sugar. Oh, Chelsea, you’ll love her. She’s the most gentle mare on the place.” Jessi’s excitement was bubbling from her pores. “Wes, why don’t you go saddle Sugar for Chelsea?”

Chelsea, too, seemed a bit caught up in their enthusiasm. But when she looked at Garrett, the smile left her face. “I really ought to stay here with Ethan,” she said.

“Nah. Jessi can take charge of that little pistol for a while. I’ll handle her chores for her,” Elliot offered.

Garrett nearly choked. Elliot, offering to do extra chores?

Chelsea’s eyes were still on him, and he squirmed. “It’s okay. Really. I don’t want to impose on your morning ride.”

He lowered his head, feeling like a real snake. “No,” he finally managed. “No, Chelsea, I’d really like you to come along.”

“Really?”

When he looked into her eyes, he realized, a little slowly perhaps, that it was true. He would enjoy her company. “Yeah, really.”

She smiled fully, almost blinding him.

“Come on upstairs, Chelsea,” Jessi said, gripping Chelsea’s arm and turning her around. “You need some jeans, and I have some that ought to fit you just fine. Might have to roll up the legs a little, but…oh, and some boots, too.” Looking back over her shoulder, she sent Garrett a broad wink. “We’ll be ready in ten minutes. Promise!”

When they disappeared up the stairs, Garrett pressed his fingertips to his forehead and groaned.

“Oh, come on, Garrett,” Wes urged. “It isn’t the end of the world.”

“You can do this, big brother,” Elliot added, a smug grin tugging at his lips, one he didn’t try very hard to suppress. “And if you need any pointers on romancing a woman, you just come to me, okay?”

Garrett scowled at him, but Elliot and Wes just shared a laugh and headed out the door.

T
he jeans were a bit long, but rolled up they were a fair fit. The boots were perfect. She and Jessi were both size seven, so their fit was comfy. Jessi had tossed in a rather tight-fitting tank top and a flannel shirt, insisting it would be hot by the time Chelsea returned, and she’d be glad to have the thin top underneath.