The Baddest Virgin in Texas Page 3
"Bububububu!"
Chelsea came right on his heels, and she hugged Jessi, as well. "How is everything?" she asked. "Did he give you any trouble?"
"Depends on which he you're referring to, hon. The baby was a perfect angel. Can't say the same for the rest of these lugheads."
Wes was heading across the driveway from the nearby barn, Lash at his side. They looked up, spotted Garrett and Chelsea and both smiled. Wes's white grin was bright from within his tanned face, and Jessi wished he'd get over his hotheaded attitude and smile more often. Sure he'd done time for a crime he didn't commit, but it was over and it was time he let it go.
Then she met Lash's gaze. His smile faltered a little, but his gaze held hers tight. There was a little hint of alarm that drifted in and out of his eyes, and then he looked away.
There was noise and laughter and plenty of hugging as everyone talked at once. They wound up in the living room, drinking iced tea and hearing the full report on the honeymoon cruise to the Bahamas while Chelsea doled out the gifts she'd brought back for everyone. And that was when the subject finally turned to the big white bandage on the side of Jessi's head, and the entire incident in the barn last night, with Wes making it sound as if she'd taken her life in her hands just by birthing a calf. Lash didn't say much. Just sat in the far corner of the room. But his gaze strayed to Jessi's more than once, though he looked away quickly each time she met it.
Jessi sat quietly, pursed her lips and refused to scream at her brother. Not for the world would she have spoiled this homecoming by starting a brawl. Every time the urge to club Wes upside the head hit her, she took a big gulp of icy-cold tea to distract herself. She'd gone through half the glass already.
"It was pure foolishness," Wes was saying. "Besides risking herself, it was risky for the animals. Jess should've called a vet—"
"Wes," Chelsea said, frowning, "your sister is a vet."
"Come on, Chelsea, I meant a real…" Wes had the good sense not to finish the sentence. He met Jessi's gaze. "I mean—"
"I know what you mean," she said. She got to her feet, her hand closing around her glass, crossed the room and poured the tea, ice cubes and all, into Wes's lap. She slammed the empty glass down on the table beside him, turned and left the room to go back upstairs to her own. Her head hurt, and she just wasn't up to dealing with her brothers right now.
Chelsea's voice followed her up the stairs. "Weston Brand, that had to be the most insensitive hogwash I've ever—" And then she heard the tap of Chelsea's feet crossing the floor and heading upstairs after her.
She barely had time to brush the hurt, angry tears away before she heard the gentle tap on her bedroom door. "Who is it?" she asked, just in case she was wrong and it was one of her brothers. If it was, she had every intention of telling them to go to hell.
"It's Chelsea."
Jessi opened the door, and met her sister-in-law's eyes.
"You wanna talk about it?" Chelsea asked.
The tears came fresh and fast, and the next thing Jessi knew she was wrapped up tight in the smaller woman's arms. "I hate this," she said, straightening away and swiping angrily at her eyes. "I never cry."
"I know you don't," Chelsea said. "But those brothers of yours bring it out in the best of us."
"You got that right."
"At least Lash set them straight," Chelsea said.
Jessi blinked and stared at her. "He did?"
Chelsea nodded. "Told them you pulled that calf like a pro. Said he knew he couldn't have done it, and doubted any other vet could've done better."
Jessi averted her eyes, hoping Chelsea wouldn't see how much pleasure that gave her. "Doubt it made any difference to them," she said.
"Probably not. In fact, Wes was sort of glaring at him when I left the room." She paced farther into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's just because they love you, you know. You'll always be their baby sister."
"But, Chelsea, I'm an adult. When are they going to see that?"
Chelsea shrugged. "They aren't … unless you force them to."
"Yeah, that's pretty much the way I figure it, too." She sighed and went to the vanity, pulled open its drawer and extracted a letter. "Something happened while you were gone," she said, and she turned to face Chelsea again. "Marisella Cordoba … she passed away."
"Oh, no." Chelsea looked stricken. "That sweet lady? Oh, Jessi, I'm sorry. I know how close she was to you."
"Closer than I realized, I guess." She handed Chelsea the letter, and Chelsea, frowning, pulled it from its envelope and unfolded it.
Her eyes scanned the page, then met Jessi's again. "She named you as her sole heiress?"
Jessi nodded. "Her lawyer said she had no family. And I guess she was grateful to me for always taking care of that old cat of hers. She wanted me to turn the house into a veterinary clinic, Chelsea. And the money she had in the bank will be enough to do it, too." Jessi shook her head slowly. "She believed in me that much."
"Of course she did. Anyone with half a brain would."
Jessi smiled. "She left me the cat, too."
"There's always a catch, isn't there?" Chelsea grinned and Jessi smiled, feeling a bit better. "So where's that old beast now?"
"At the lawyer's house, in town. I'm supposed to pick him up today, when I go in to sign some papers making all this official." She lowered her head and sighed. "Chels, I haven't told anyone about this yet."
Chelsea nodded. "Because you think they'll try to talk you out of it?"
"Yeah. They'll say I'm too young, too inexperienced, too … too everything. But I'm going to do it. And if they give me too much grief … then…" She bit her lip, lowered her head. "Then I'm going to leave. The house Marisella left me is big enough for me to live in, as well as run a clinic from. And I will, Chelsea, if they force me."
"But if you do, you won't be running into Lash Monroe around the ranch every day, will you Jess?"
Jessi's head came up fast. "How did you—?"
"Oh, come on, sweetie. It's written all over your face every time you're in the same room with him."
Jessi felt her face heat. But in a moment she was shaking her head. "Doesn't matter," she said. "Lash is probably going to be leaving, anyway, now that Garrett's home."
"Don't be too sure of that. Garrett's planning to ask Lash to stay on."
Jessi felt her brows arch. "He is?"
"We had a message while we were away. There's been some rustling going on in the area, and Garrett's duties as sheriff are going to keep him busy until he puts a stop to it. He isn't going to have as much time as he'd hoped to help out here on the ranch. And besides all that, he wants Lash to help him with the investigation. I guess he was pretty impressed with Lash's performance in tracking down Vincent de Lorean."
Jessi licked her lips. "You think Lash will agree?"
Chelsea shrugged. "You know him better than I do. What do you think?"
Jessi smiled slowly. "He'll agree. If I have anything to say about it … and believe me, I will."
"That's more like the Jessi I know and love."
"It's the Brand in me coming out," she said. "Now, if I could just get my brothers to see it."
Chelsea looked Jessi over, head to toe. "Well, we can start right now. You say you're going into town today, to see that lawyer? Well, this is a business trip. You can't go in jeans."
"Gee, Chelsea, I don't own much else."
"I do. You need a power suit today, Jessica. And you might as well be wearing it when you face those bundles of testosterone downstairs to tell them about all this. You're a career woman now. So dress the part." She pursed her lips. "I think my skirts will be quite a bit shorter on you than me." Then she smiled. "All the better." And with a wink, she took Jessi's hand in hers and pulled her down the hall and into the master bedroom, which had once belonged to Jessi's parents, but now had been passed on to Chelsea and Garrett. Several new drawings and paintings hung on the walls. Chelsea's handiwork. She'd made a living
as an artist before she came here. Now she divided her time between the ranch and volunteering over at the Women's Crisis Center in El Paso. Fighting domestic violence was one of Chelsea's passions.
Jessi surrendered herself to her sister-in-law's ministrations. A short time later, Jessi looked at herself in the full-length mirror and shook her head. She wore a pencil-slim emerald-green silk skirt that made her legs look endlessly long and slender. The matching jacket was cropped short, showing off her narrow waist. The cream-colored blouse underneath was nothing less than classy. Sheer nylons covered her legs, and she wore a pair of shiny black pumps on her feet. Chelsea had helped her with a light coat of makeup, barely visible, but somehow enhancing her cheekbones and wide-set eyes.
"What about my hair?" she said, giving her head a shake. "It's so tomboyish."
"You've gotta be kidding. Most women would kill for that shade of auburn, Jess. And the cut is what's known as 'short and sassy.' Very chic." She picked up a pair of earrings with green stones set in an intricate gold design and handed them to her. "You look fabulous. All you need is a briefcase."
"A veterinary bag," Jessi corrected. "And I already have one."
"Good. Now for the grand entrance."
"Yeah," Jessi said. "The one where I have to ask my brother for permission to use his pickup."
"Hey, I married him. It's my pickup too." Chelsea fished in her purse for the keys.
Jessi took the keys from her hand, bit her lip and blinked her eyes dry. "You don't know how much…"
"Sure I do."
"I was so young when our parents were killed. I can't even remember having another woman around to … to talk to, you know?"
"I know. Don't forget, I lost my mom, too. And then my sister."
Jessi nodded. "But you have another sister now."
Chelsea met her eyes, and Jessi saw them moistening. "That means a lot to me, Jess."
"Hey, don't get too happy. Remember, you got a houseful of brothers as part of the deal."
"Five brothers and little Ethan. So the Brand women are outnumbered by the men, six to two." Chelsea smiled and gave Jessi a wink. "They don't stand a chance."
Lash had battled the urge to grab Wes Brand by the front of his shirt and shake him after seeing the tears spring to Jessi's eyes—tears caused by her brother's thoughtless remark. Heck, the kid didn't deserve that. And she had done a hell of a job with that calf last night. She might be young, but there was no question she was very good at what she did. Lash had seen her in action too often this past month to doubt that. What he couldn't figure out was why her brothers did. They'd been around her a heck of a lot longer than Lash had.
But he satisfied himself with a few words in her defense, and managed to keep his temper in check. Odd, the way the sight of her tears had roused it to such an unusual level. He was normally slow to anger. He shook his head, and thought it was a damned good thing he'd decided to move on.
The brothers had adjourned to the kitchen and now sat around the table with filled coffee mugs and a heap of doughnuts that seemed to be shrinking at an alarming rate. Lash didn't sit. Instead, he cleared his throat and, when Garrett looked at him, spoke. "Now that you're back, Garrett, I'm thinking it's time for me to be heading out."
It was Wes who replied. "Been nice havin' you here, Lash. You have a nice trip, now."
Elliot shook his head and took a quick sip of his coffee. Looked to Lash as if he did so to hide the grin he was battling. Ben said nothing. The guy never did say much. Seemed locked in a perpetual state of mourning over the death of his young wife, Penny. Jessi had filled Lash in on that sad event, but she'd also told him it had happened over a year ago, and that she was pretty worried about Ben's seeming inability to get past it. Or even to crack an occasional smile.
Garrett sat thoughtfully for a moment. Then he drew a breath. "Lash, is there something pressing you need to see to? Someplace you have to be?"
The question took Lash by surprise. "Well, no, not really. I just thought it was time."
"And you thought right," Wes said.
Garrett shot his brother a quelling glance before returning his attention to Lash. "Then I have a proposition for you." Garrett got to his feet, yanked another mug from the tree and filled it, then set it in front of an empty chair.
Taking his cue, Lash took the seat, and the mug.
"Lash, I could still use you here," Garrett began. Wes rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh, but as a deterrent it was ineffective. "There's been some rustling going on, and it's going to take more than one small-town sheriff to get to the bottom of it."
Lash choked on his coffee, lowered the mug with a bang and swiped at his mouth with his shirtsleeve. "You gotta be kidding me."
Garrett smiled at him. "You did a hell of a job with the whole de Lorean thing. No fed could've done better."
"I'm no lawman, Garrett."
"Neither was I, till they pinned this badge on me. I need a deputy, Lash. Not only that, but I'm still gonna need your help here on the ranch. Especially with rustlers prowling the pastures."
"Damnation," Wes muttered. Garrett glanced toward him, and Wes shook his head. "I don't suppose it ever occurred to you to ask one of us," he snapped.
"It occurred to me. Wes, you have a record, justified or not. You've also got a temper hot enough to melt glaciers, and the whole town knows it. Sorry, but with your reputation, they'd never sit still for me pinning a badge on your chest and handing you a loaded gun." Wes's face reddened a little, but he couldn't very well argue his brother's points. "Elliot's young yet. Maybe not too young, but we all know he can't hit the broad side of a barn with a pistol. 'Course, if he could rope the bad guys, we'd be in good shape, but it's safe to figure they'll be carrying weapons more lethal than lassos. And Ben…" Garrett glanced at the blond man sitting quietly with his head slightly lowered. "Ben's mind wouldn't be on the job. Lash has proven he's damn good at this kind of work, and I want him with me in this."
Finally he met Lash's eyes again. "So what do you say?"
Lash drew a breath and sighed hard. What could he say? Garrett had treated him like family … well, except for that one misunderstanding when he'd damn near broken Lash's nose and Jessi had just about screamed the house down over it.
Jessi. She was his reason for leaving. He wanted to get away from her, because he was sorely afraid she might be developing some silly crush on him. And she was too pretty, too able to make him feel a twinge of temptation every now and then, though he hadn't fully realized the danger she posed until last night.
On the other hand, he owed Garrett Brand. Owed him big. If not for the big guy, Jimmy's murderer might still be walking around a free man.
So which was more important? Risking a little temptation or doing right by a friend?
And, as it often did, the voice of the Reverend Stanton rang through Lash's mind like some kind of born-again Jiminy Cricket, acting as his conscience. "'…Is this thy kindness to thy friend? Why wentest thou not with thy friend?' Second Samuel sixteen-seventeen, Lash, my boy. Memorize it."
Lash sighed and wondered if he'd ever find an occasion in life that didn't call some applicable verse to mind. Heck, probably not. He'd memorized most of the good book before he grew old enough to move out of the Stanton house. It came in handy at times. At others, it just gave him twinges of guilt.
Like now. A twinge just big enough to make him do the right thing.
He sighed once more, and finally nodded. "All right, Garrett. I'll stick around. But understand that this is temporary, okay? Once this rustling thing is over, I'll be leaving."
Garrett's face split in a broad smile. "Understood."
Lash reached his hand across the table to shake Garrett's. Then he caught Wes's eye and knew the man still didn't approve.
"Well, Lash, since you're staying on," Wes said, "maybe you can take the pickup into town for that load of feed that's waiting to be collected. It'll give me a chance to have a talk with my brothers."
"Be
glad to," Lash said, but he knew his smile didn't reach his eyes. He and Wes were going to have to come to an understanding, and Lash suspected it wasn't going to be pretty. Fact was, he was eager to get out of here and think about what he'd just agreed to, and how the hell he was going to deal with it. By staying away from Jessi Brand, that was how. Damn, he'd been sure he would have shaken the Texas dirt off his boots by sundown.
"Sorry, boys, but the pickup is already spoken for." The voice was Chelsea's, and it came from the doorway.
All heads turned in her direction, but it wasn't Chelsea who caused their jaws to drop, one by one. It was Jessi. Chelsea stepped aside to let her walk by into the kitchen, and Lash felt his throat go dry. She looked … Dang … she looked gorgeous. Luscious. Sexy. And very grown-up.
Lash's eyes roamed from the low-slung collar of the creamy blouse to the swells of her breasts beneath it. His gaze lowered, following the sleek curves down to legs that would bring a man crashing right down to his trembling knees. Good Lord, he'd had no idea what she was hiding under those jeans and flannel shirts she usually wore.
"Where the hell do you think you're going all gussied up like that, Jessi?" Wes blurted, but even his voice sounded a bit hoarse.
"I have an appointment in town," she said, and her voice drew Lash's gaze back up to her face. Funny how he'd never noticed that her eyes were hypnotic, that her lips were as full and sensual as any Hollywood starlet's. Beyond all that, he noticed that she was nervous. Her eyes were not just incredible and deeper than the velvety brown of a doe's eyes, but wide and darting and glittering. She moistened her lips and went on. "But before I go, I have a little announcement to make."
Lash couldn't take his eyes off her. He lost track of her brothers' reactions, because he couldn't focus on anything but the world-class beauty standing at center stage.
"Go ahead, Jess," Garrett said softly.
Jessi nodded at him, smiling shakily. "Marisella left me everything she had," she said. "Including the house in town, and a sizable chunk of money."
She gave it a second to sink in. Lash saw the brothers focusing on her sharply, lifting their chins, interest lighting their eyes.