Texas Grit. Barb Han
But the truth was that she’d been lonely. Brett was good-looking and charming when he needed to be—especially in the beginning. He’d seemed so proud of her at first, but then it had turned into something else, something possessive. She’d lost interest, and he wasn’t taking it so well. “I must seem like a complete idiot for not seeing this coming.”
“In my experience, people don’t always show their true colors until you really get to know them. That takes time,” he said after a thoughtful pause, and she figured there was a bigger story behind those words. “You have good judgment, Carrie. You always were smarter than the rest of us. Everyone makes mistakes now and then. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
His reassuring words calmed her. She shouldn’t allow them to. She knew better than to let herself depend on anyone else. Carrie had learned early in life that all people let her down eventually, from addict parents she’d never met to a system that put her in the hands of an abuser to a distant aunt who’d claimed Carrie and then dumped her back in the system when it became inconvenient to keep her.
Where’d that come from?
This night and the reunion were taking a toll, and she needed to get her emotions in check.
“Stop by the shop sometime,” she said. “Dessert is on the house.”
Dade cracked a smile. “Guess there are perks to knowing the owner.”
“The first treat is for old times’ sake. You’re on your own from there,” she quipped, thinking how nice it was not to have to work at conversation for a change. It had always been like that with Dade. Easy. Light. Fun. When we were young, she corrected. High school had been another matter altogether.
Things changed. And so did people.
The serious blue eyes Dade had possessed as a child were even more intense now. As easy as conversation had been between them all those years ago, neither had spoken about their demons—demons that grew and changed people over time. Demons that could make a man sign up to travel halfway around the world to fight a monster he couldn’t see.
The two chatted easily for another fifteen minutes, catching up on more of each other’s lives in the past few years.
“It’s good seeing you again, Dade,” she said, finally looking up and realizing what a mistake that was. Because he was looking, too. And the way he was looking made her body ache in a way it hadn’t in far too long.
“You, too, Carrie.”
Neither made a move to leave right away. Another mistake. They were racking up. Because she’d learned early on that feelings could trick her. All she was experiencing was a bout of nostalgia. She’d taken psychology as an elective to help sort out her own emotions. Dade represented the past—a time before life became confusing and people who were supposed to take care of her had hurt her. A time before the group home leader had snapped and taken out his frustrations on her and a handful of other kids. A time before she’d been placed in a foster home with a real monster and had a social worker who seemed content to look the other way in order to check a box on a file—placed.
“I better get home to Coco.”
“The Sharp Eagle?” The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin that tugged at her heart.
She laughed despite all the memories churning through her mind.
“Yep.” She returned the smile. “Like I said, stop by some time.”
Neither seemed ready to leave, but it was time, so she made the first move, digging her keys out of her purse. She palmed the pepper spray.
“Keep that ready to go just in case.” Dade’s eyes went straight to the palm-sized black canister in the leather casing as he stepped aside to allow passage.
“I will.” She took the first step toward her vehicle, grateful the rose had been removed from the driver’s-side door handle. Brett’s timing couldn’t be worse. But then, timing wasn’t his only issue.
“Hold on to it even when you walk the dog. Madelyn had a restraining order against her ex, and it didn’t stop him from coming after her.” His warning sent a cold chill down her back. He was right. She’d read about the whole ordeal in the news and, even though she thought she knew Brett, Dade’s half sister must’ve felt the same about her boyfriend.
Dade fished a card out of his wallet and handed it to her. “The sheriff’s office might be too busy to handle this properly, but if this guy shows up again or your ex doesn’t take the hint and you need a hand, give me a call. My personal cell’s on there.”
“Thank you.” She dropped his card in her purse. Nash should be gone by morning. She hoped Brett would leave things alone. Experience had taught her that he didn’t give up so easily. But she could handle him. Right?
* * *
AS DADE WATCHED Carrie drive away, regret filled his chest. Since that was as productive as drinking well water next to a nuclear facility, he started the engine of his truck and navigated out of the alley.
Dade spent the half-hour ride home lost in his thoughts, one of which hadn’t dawned on him until later. Being close to Carrie might bring unwanted media attention to her and dredge up her past. People talked. He’d never been truly sure what had happened to her in the years she was away from Cattle Barge, but she’d returned a different person. The chatty and sweet girl from their youth had seemed...he didn’t know...lost?
Adding to his sharp mood was the simple fact that his own life was a mess. First, there’d been an unexpected breakup with his girlfriend, followed by the Mav’s murder and everything that had happened to the family since. Going back to the ranch didn’t hold a hell of a lot of appeal lately, but he had nowhere else to be and was needed at home. He was restless, though. Working the land was the only activity that had ever given him a sense of peace. The Mav had been right about one thing—hard work made for clear focus right up until Dade came in from the range. Honestly, focus had been hard to come by lately, but he figured he could get it back if he kept moving forward. Was it the fact that someone had murdered his father right under their noses in such a violent fashion and on the land they all loved so much that kept him on edge?
Going to bed would be useless. Sleep was as close as Helsinki to Houston. He made a beeline for the kitchen after parking in his usual spot. The light was on, and six weeks ago that might’ve seemed odd. Nothing surprised him now.
“Did you just pull in?” Ella seemed happy for the first time, but then Dade’s older sister had gotten the closure she needed from the past. She’d also met a man she truly seemed in love with, and while Dade was happy for his sister, seeing her in that state of bliss reminded him just how far away he was from it. He wouldn’t begrudge her, though. She deserved every bit of it.
“Got sidetracked on my way to pick up the bronze.” Dade realized that he’d never made it over to the mayor’s office.
“I figured as much after Mayor Bentley called. Dalton volunteered to go instead.” She sat at the long wooden table behind a bowl of ice cream. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He’d thank his twin brother when he saw him in the morning. Days on the ranch began at 4:00 a.m., so that wouldn’t be long. Dade went for the coffeepot, figuring a caffeine boost would help him think clearly. After seeing Carrie again, his mind was going to a place he knew better than to let it: an inappropriate attraction that had him remembering the lines of her heart-shaped face framed by inky-black hair, her creamy skin, smooth aside from that little scar to the left side of her full lips. When she smiled, she had one dimple on her left cheek, and part of him wanted to see that again.
“We’re out of beans in the kitchen.” Ella nodded toward the pantry.
“Since when is this house out of anything?” There’d been someone around to stock the pantry and make sure meals were cooked and the kids put to bed for as long as Dade could remember. None of the good people providing those tasks had been his parents.
“I’m