The Littlest Cowboy Page 7

Chapter 7

  When she heard her brothers’ booted feet coming up the steps, Jessi turned away from the screen door and put a finger to her lips.

  Wes frowned at her. Elliot tilted his head.

  She waved them closer, still shushing them, and when they were close enough, she pointed.

  In the kitchen, Garrett held the mite of a woman in his great big arms. He held her very close and stroked her hair while she sobbed as if her heart were breaking into a million bits. And as they watched, Chelsea’s hands rose slowly until they closed on Garrett’s shoulders, and she clung to him as if she were holding on for dear life. The tears she shed were not pretty ones. She sobbed out loud with great heaving spasms that should have torn a woman her size right in half.

  As tears brimmed in her own eyes, Jessi turned away and walked quietly off the big front porch. She didn’t stop until she’d reached the gate to the east pasture, where horses grazed contentedly, and then she leaned against it, blinking her eyes dry.

  She wasn’t surprised when Wes’s hand lowered to her shoulder. “What happened in there, Jessi?”

  Jessi turned around and flung herself right into her brother’s arms, and he hugged her tight. “Oh, Wes, it’s more horrible than I thought! I know I shouldn’t have been listening at the door, but I couldn’t help myself when I heard what she was saying.”

  Wes eased her away from him and searched her face with those black eyes that seemed to see right inside a person.

  Jessi wiped her eyes dry with the back of one hand, then shook her head. “We can’t let her go back east. I’ll tell you that much. That girl needs a family like nobody I’ve ever seen.”

  “She isn’t a stray dog, Jessi,” Wes said softly. “You can’t just decide to keep her.”

  Jessi sniffed. “I’ve already decided. Now all I have to do is convince her she belongs here.”

  Elliot had joined them by this time and heard most of what they said. He stood very still, staring thoughtfully back toward the house.

  Wes shook his head slowly. “We have enough trouble on our hands, Jessi. My gut tells me that this woman is only gonna bring more.”

  “I don’t care,” Jessi told him. “I want her to stay.”

  “Contrary to what you’ve been led to believe, little sister,” Wes replied, “you can’t have everything you want.”

  “Well, now, I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Elliot looked at them briefly, then right back at the house again. “When’s the last time you saw Garrett hugging on a female the way he was hugging on that one?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Elliot. Garrett’s never given a damn about women.”

  “There’s a first time for everything, Wes. And from what I saw in that kitchen, I’d say our big brother’s perched himself right on the very brink of giving a damn.”

  “Yeah,” Jessi said slowly, drawing out the word as the solution became clear in her mind. “All he needs is a little nudge.”

  “No way.” Wes’s narrow eyes went from Jessi to Elliot and back again. “No. You two stay the hell out of this. I mean it. We don’t need any women cluttering things up around here, and…ah, hell, Jes, don’t look like that. I didn’t mean you. Just think about it for a minute. Look at Adam and Ben, both nursing broken hearts. You want to put Garrett through the same garbage?”

  “Just because love didn’t work out for Adam or Ben doesn’t mean it won’t for Garrett,” Jessi argued. “Come on, Wes! Garrett is different.”

  “Chelsea Brennan is trouble.”

  “Maybe she is,” Jessi went on with a little pout. “But she’s in trouble, too. And since when has trouble been anything the Brands couldn’t handle?”

  Wes shook his head, turned on his heel and started to walk away.

  “Wait, Wes.” He stopped, but didn’t turn to face her. “Just listen. Let me tell you what I overheard in that kitchen. Then decide whether you want to help her or not.”

  He turned slowly, grimacing. “I didn’t say we shouldn’t help her, kid, just that we shouldn’t force-feed her to Garrett.”

  “Didn’t see nobody forcing him just now,” Elliot said, earning a scowl. He grinned at Wes and nodded to Jessi. “Go on, hon. Tell us what you know.”

  Garrett had never felt more big and awkward and clumsy than he had when he’d held Chelsea’s small body in his arms. But he’d also never felt weaker. Made his knees turn to jelly to think about the hell she’d been through. And the thought that she’d actually talked to him about it, that she’d let him comfort her even a little bit, filled him to brimming with something else altogether, something he didn’t even try to put a name to, because he knew he couldn’t.

  Chores were finished, dinner over. And, as was their habit of an evening, the Brands gathered in the huge living room to rehash the day. Elliot and Jessi sat close together on the sofa, exchanging glances now and then that told Garrett they were sharing a secret. Wes had the settee to himself and looked pensive. Garrett had opted for the big easy chair, and Chelsea sat in the rocker close beside it, while Ethan crawled around the floor in a diaper and T-shirt, rushing from one pair of legs to another with all the energy of a frisky colt.

  This time, he headed for Wes’s legs and turned himself around to plop down onto his backside, staring up at Wes expectantly. Wes didn’t notice.

  “Ga!” Ethan announced when Wes hadn’t looked down at him quickly enough to suit him.

  When Wes did look, Ethan put his hands up in the air. International baby code for “Hey, pick me up, you big dummy.” A panicked look came into Wes’s eyes.

  “Oh, go on, Wes. He won’t bite you,” Jessi teased.

  When Wes still hesitated, Jessi jumped to her feet, scooped the baby up and deposited him gently on Wes’s lap. Ethan grinned from ear to ear and reached up to grab Wes’s slightly hawkish nose.

  Elliot burst out laughing, and Wes scowled at him as he gently removed the baby’s hand. Ethan snuggled into Wes’s lap, resting, for the moment. Wes looked stunned.

  “I still don’t understand why his mamma left him here with us,” Jessi mused, returning to the sofa. “And his name couldn’t have been a coincidence. Garrett, are you sure you didn’t—”

  “Jessi, I’ve sworn on a stack of Bibles I didn’t father this baby. You telling me you still don’t believe me?” Being accused in front of Chelsea was somehow worse, though Garrett wasn’t quite sure why.

  “Of course I believe you! I was gonna say, are you sure you didn’t meet Chelsea’s sister somewhere, maybe a long time ago? I mean, she must have known you sometime.”

  Garrett looked at Chelsea, saw the silent question in her eyes. “No, I didn’t tell them,” he said. “Why don’t you get that photo and show it to Jessi. See if she remembers.” He hoped she would. Because he’d feel better if he were sure Chelsea believed what he’d told her, and having Jessi confirm his recollection would go a long ways toward convincing her.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t show you all right at the beginning. Instead, I stormed in here like a…” She shook her head.

  “Like a wet hen?” Jessi offered.

  “No,” Elliot said. “No, I’d say she was more like a wounded bear.”

  “She can’t be a bear, Elliot. She’s way too small,” Wes countered. “She came in here like a Texas wildfire.”

  They were all grinning at Chelsea, treating her just the way they treated each other, and at first Garrett thought she’d be offended. But she shook her head again in self-deprecation and smiled back at them as she got up from the rocker.

  She headed upstairs and Garrett watched her go, wondering how anything as delicate-looking as she was could have such a steel core. She came back seconds later and handed the photograph to Jessi, who waited at the bottom of the stairs.

  Jessi studied it, tilting her head. “She looks familiar.” Jessi passed the photo to Elliot, who passed it to Wes. “I know!” Jessi shouted, startling both Ethan and ol’ Blue. “Remember, Garrett, it was over a year ago? That girl you found out on
the River Road with the flat tire.”

  “That’s right,” Elliot said. “You changed her tire and then had her follow you back here and stay to dinner. I remember now. Hell, she was out to here!” He held his hands out in front of his belly in an exaggerated account of her size.

  Wes shook his head. “She was not out to there, Elliot. She was obviously pregnant though. She seemed scared or something. Remember? We offered her a room for a night or two, but she was in a hurry to move on.”

  “Didn’t she tell us her name was Ann or something? Ann Smith, wasn’t it?” Jessi said softly as if thinking aloud. “Why would she have given us a false name?”

  Chelsea came close to where Garrett sat, taking the photo from Wes as she passed, and stared down at it. “Maybe she was running from him even then. God, why didn’t she just come back to me?”

  “If she knew she was in trouble, Chelsea, she might not have wanted to get you involved. Or maybe…maybe she never got the chance to get that far,” Garrett said gently.

  Chelsea nodded.

  “I still don’t know why she’d name the baby after Garrett and then bring him back here,” Jessi said.

  “I do,” Chelsea replied, her voice raw. She looked around the room at each of them. “Garrett told me about her visit here, and I’ve had some time to think about this. And I think I know exactly why she did what she did.”

  Garrett tilted his head, eager to hear Chelsea’s theory.

  “She was here, even if it was just for a short time. And she knew…she saw what you have.”

  Garrett frowned, but Chelsea went on.

  “When Michele and I were little, we used to pretend a lot. Our favorite make-believe game was the one where we had a big family. Lots of brothers and sisters. A nice big house, with a yard.” She looked down at ol’ Blue. He cocked his ears and whined, then hauled himself to his feet and came to her for a pat, which she gave. “Even a dog,” she said, stroking his head and smiling. But it was a sad smile. “We’d get out all our dolls and stuffed animals and they’d all play a part in the fantasy.” She drew a breath, swallowed hard. “When my sister walked through your front door, she must have seen our childhood make-believe world come true, in everything you have right here. And not just because of the big house, or the dog, or the number of people here. Because of the love that fills this place. She must have thought this would be the happiest home in the world for a child. So later, when she had to find a safe place for her baby, she thought of this place.”

  “So, she brought little Ethan here and left him on our doorstep,” Jessi said. “And it was probably the highest compliment anyone’s ever paid us, Chelsea. Sometimes I forget how lucky I am to have these big lugs. Thanks for reminding me.”

  Elliot cleared his throat, averting his gaze momentarily. Wes just stared down at that baby in his lap as if he was seeing him for the first time.

  “Chelsea, we haven’t talked about this before,” Garrett said as she took her seat in the rocker once more. “You don’t have to now, if it’s too much. But I checked with the Texas Rangers in El Paso earlier today. They said Michele died of a drug overdose and that they had no reason to suspect foul play.”

  Chelsea’s eyes widened and she looked up at him fast. “You didn’t tell them about Ethan—”

  “No. Of course not. I don’t want his father coming for him any more than you do. But that’s going to have to be dealt with sooner or later. The man has a legal

  claim–”

  Chelsea reached across the short distance between his chair and hers, clasping one of Garrett’s hands with two of her own. “Garrett, no. You can’t let him take Ethan. Not ever. He killed my sister. I know he did.”

  Her eyes were enough to send his heart slamming against his rib cage. But he was a sheriff after all. He needed facts, “Don’t you think your…past experiences…might be clouding your judgment, though?”

  She shook her head, squeezing his hand more tightly. “The heroin was injected. My sister never did drugs in her life. She was running scared and she left her baby. She wouldn’t have done that just so she could go shoot herself up with drugs. She wouldn’t have left Ethan unless she knew she was in danger. Those things alone would convince me, Garrett. But she also had a phobia about needles. She never would have injected anything into her own body. She’d have passed out at the sight of a hypodermic.”

  Garrett frowned. “Did you tell the Rangers that?”

  “No. I wasn’t even thinking clearly, and then I came here and…” She released his hand, closed her eyes. “I just left her there. I shouldn’t have done that; I shouldn’t have left my sister there alone.”

  “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.

  “Vincent 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 s
eat. 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.