Married In Montana. Lynnette Kent
One white eyebrow lifted. “The man is a close friend of mine. I believe what he says.”
“The drinking age in Montana was twenty-one, last time I checked.” The judge glanced over his shoulder, a clear warning for Rafe to keep his voice down. “And DUI carries some stiff penalties…at least on paper.”
LeVay drained his mug and wiped his mouth with a napkin plucked from the stainless-steel cube between them. “I appreciate your concern. I’m sure Mr. Maxwell does, too. However, I believe he can handle this…situation…without outside interference.”
Rafe dropped the oblique approach, but kept his voice quiet. “That boy’s going to hurt himself. Or somebody else. He’s out of control.”
For a second, the judge’s pale blue eyes met his, and Rafe knew they were in agreement on that fact. But then LeVay slid off the stool.
“Leave it alone,” he advised. “You’ve got enough trouble on your hands in this town without getting the Maxwells riled up.” With a nod of greeting to a couple of men in a nearby booth, the older man made his way to the door. Through the glass, Rafe saw him stoop to talk to Jed. The bloodhound squirmed gratefully as the judge scratched the sensitive spot on the back of his neck. If Jed liked the man, Rafe decided, he couldn’t be all bad.
But if Maxwell owned him, he couldn’t be completely trusted, either. Better not look for help from that quarter.
Rafe turned back to finish his eggs, and found Mona standing opposite him.
“Take the judge at his word,” she suggested, swapping his cold plate of food for a steaming hot portion. “Maxwell owns this town and most of the people in it, one way or the other. You land on his bad side, you won’t get an ounce of cooperation from anybody.” She smiled. “Except me. Maxwell doesn’t like me, either.”
“Why not?”
“I taught in the county school system for close to two decades. Bobby was one of my sixth-graders. Bright kid, spoiled rotten. He didn’t do a lick of work in my class all year. I wouldn’t promote him, no matter how many fits his daddy threw. Maxwell got me fired, but Bobby still had to repeat the sixth grade, and he didn’t pull the same stunt again. Graduated in the spring with pretty good grades, I heard.”
“And you’re working in the diner?”
Mona shrugged. “My husband built the place and ran it until he died last year. I figured keeping Grizzly’s open would give me something to do and pay my respects at the same time.” Her smile was rueful. “Anyway, watch your step. The Maxwells are about as safe to be around as timber rattlers. A little more predictable, maybe—you threaten them or theirs, you can be sure they’ll do their best to take you down.”
She moved away, and Rafe thought for a second about calling her back for one more question.
What about Thea Maxwell?
Did she take after her old man? Did she follow his orders straight down the line? Was she just one more piece of property her father owned?
Did it matter? Boss Maxwell had practically threatened him with bodily harm for interfering. The lady herself had brushed him off like yesterday’s dust. And there was little doubt that her brother would keep to the straight and narrow exactly as long as it took him to pick up his truck. Any more trouble with Bobby would put Rafe on the side of the devil, as far as all the Maxwells were concerned.
Didn’t he have enough trouble in this town already? Was his sense of self-preservation so weak?
With a silent sigh, Rafe acknowledged that the same two words answered both of those questions—plus one more…
Could he really be crazy enough to consider going after this woman?
Remembering Thea’s voice, her smile, the light in her eyes and the strange peace he’d felt when he first saw her, Rafe nodded and took a sip of coffee. Three simple questions, one simple answer.
You bet.
CHAPTER TWO
ALL DAY SATURDAY—sunrise until sundown—Bobby worked on getting his big sister to drive him to town to pick up his truck. Successful, as usual, he now sat beside her in the front seat of her Land Rover, beating a tattoo on his knees in rhythm with the tune screaming from the CD player. They’d rolled the windows down, though the night air blew cold. Between the big starry sky and the miles adding up between him and the ranch, he was beginning to feel he could breathe again.
Thea pressed a control on the steering wheel and turned the volume down.
“Hey!” Bobby reached for the button on the console. “I like that song.”
This time she punched the music off. “We need to talk.”
Here we go again. “No, we don’t.”
She ignored his protest. “What are you trying to prove with the drinking and the fighting and the stupid stunts? I have to tell you, nobody is impressed with your maturity and sense of responsibility.”
“I’m only nineteen years old, for God’s sake. I don’t have to be mature or responsible.”
“It would be nice if you were still alive when your twentieth birthday came around.”
He rolled his eyes. “Give me a break. The most life-threatening thing I do is show up for work every day, give the old man another chance to run me into the ground.”
“It’s your ranch…your life…we’re talking about here. Dad wants you to be prepared to take over when he retires.”
The words were out before he could stop them. “If he’d listen to me—just once—and realize I don’t want the damn ranch, we’d all be better off.”
Thea took her gaze off the road to stare at him. “Why not?”
Bobby dropped his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. His head still ached from last night. “When did I ever say I did?”
“You loved the place when you were little. We couldn’t convince you to come in for dinner some nights, at least not until it got too dark to work.”
“Yeah, well, I grew up.” He didn’t have the words to explain how the ranch, the old man…Thea herself…smothered him. And even if he could find the words…no way could he hurt Thea like that. She’d taken care of him since he was four years old.
“I’m not so sure.” She braked at the intersection of the ranch road with the main highway, then turned left toward town. “Adults acknowledge their responsibilities.”
He ground his back teeth. “Damn, I’m tired of that word.”
“Don’t swear at me.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.” Now he sounded like a four-year-old even to himself.
They rode the thirty miles to Paradise Corners without saying anything else. Thea took the shortcut, which brought them to the Lone Wolf Bar without going through the main part of town. His truck sat right where he’d left it last night, reflecting the neon lights of the bar in its bright red finish.
Bobby pulled in a deep breath. “Thanks, Tee.” He used his childhood name for her to apologize. “I appreciate the ride.” He opened the door and dropped to the ground, then turned to give her a grin and a wave through the open window. The night was young, and there was a girl he knew…
Thea evidently had other ideas. “You’re going to follow me home, right?”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Uh…no, I hadn’t planned on going home yet.”
His sister could swear with the best of the cowboys, and she did it now as she slammed the door and strode around the Land Rover to face him. She was only a couple of inches shorter and