Chapter 36

When Melanie turned she saw that behind the corral, a pickup camper had been set several yards back into the trees on a platform of wooden pallets, with moldy, disintegrating straw bales packed around the bottom for insulation. Lord. The thing must be crawling with mice.

“Hank?” Melanie had to ask because the blade-thin man leaning in the camper door bore almost no resemblance to her brother.

Like Wyatt, he’d given up shaving, but the result was scraggly and uneven, as if he whacked at it occasionally with a pair of dull scissors. The hair he’d always kept short fell well past the collar of a tan canvas chore coat worn through at the cuffs and hem. But it was his eyes that unnerved her, dark and flat in his gaunt face.

“What are you doing here, Mel? And with him?” He jerked his chin toward the pickup.

Wyatt stood utterly still, but Melanie knew he was as cocked and ready as that shotgun—muscles primed to explode into action. It took considerable effort to keep her voice level. “You haven’t called, and I couldn’t find you. I was worried.”

“Yeah? What kind of deal did you make with the devil to track me down?” Then he snorted in contempt. “As if I need to ask.”

She bit back the knee-jerk response. She hadn’t really expected Hank to attack. Not like this. Why hadn’t she thought to make Wyatt stay…somewhere? Anywhere but here. Why hadn’t he offered to stay back? He had probably thought she needed protecting—and assuming that gun was loaded, he might be right—but the sight of him was enough to ruin any chance of a civil conversation between her and Hank.

Ever.

“He’s awful pretty.” The old woman shuffled out onto the warped wooden step, as hunched and gnarled as the wind-tortured trees. She leered at Wyatt, showing three rotting brown teeth. “I’d do him for nothin’.”

Wyatt didn’t quite hide his grimace. Norma cackled, leaning on her shotgun as she squinted at them from a face that had collapsed in on itself as if the bones had dissolved along with her spine.

“I s’pose you want to haul that one back to Texas.” She waved a bony claw at Hank. “Go ahead. Ain’t worth a shit anyway.”

“Neither is the pay,” Hank retorted.

Norma hmmphed, then scowled at Bing. “You bring me anything besides tourists?”

“Always.” She held up a carton with the pie Wyatt hadn’t touched and a bag with the takeout burgers. “Let’s go inside and give them some privacy.”

“I’ll wait in the pickup. I can use the rest before the flight home.” Wyatt climbed into the front seat and closed the door. From there, he could keep an eye on Melanie and Hank without listening in…and avoid being trapped in the close confines of the trailer with a woman who didn’t appear to have had her spring bath yet. He tilted the seat back and closed his eyes, but Melanie had no doubt he was still watching.

She stepped over to the corral. The piebald nudged at her with his nose, and she rubbed his forehead, grateful for something to do with her hands. He wasn’t much to look at, but he was in excellent shape, his shoulders and flanks thick with muscle. On closer inspection, she could see that at least half of the fence rails had been replaced, the ends freshly cut and smelling of sawdust and pine sap. The dilapidated shelter also sported new brace posts and patches on the roof, and the stack of hay bales alongside was neatly covered with an old truck tarp tied to concrete cinder blocks.

As Hank stepped away from the camper to prop his arms on the side of the corral opposite her, she could see that, unlike Norma, his hair was clean and his clothes, jacket aside, had seen a washing machine in recent memory…and nobody washed their chore coat.

She ran her fingers through the horse’s forelock. “Nice spot. What do you do other than keep the place up?”

“She’s got a couple dozen cows running around in the hills.” His lip curled at the irony. “Yeah. My favorite.”

Geezus. Hank was voluntarily herding cattle? This was worse than Melanie had thought. “She owns this place?”

“Nah. It’s tribal land, but if they run her out of here, they’d just have to put her somewhere else. And it’s open range, so the cows go wherever somebody doesn’t fence ’em out.”

Which accounted for the cattle they’d seen grazing the road ditches. “Does she actually pay you?”

“Only in beef and venison. She is a damn good shot. I scrounge up enough pocket money to keep gas in the generator and beer in the fridge. Don’t need anything else.” He made a show of looking around. “Guess we coulda picked up a little, but we aren’t in the habit of entertaining.”

Anger sparked at his snotty tone. “I heard they have a phone at the Babb store. If you’d bothered to call, I wouldn’t have had to sneak up on you.”

“Sorry.” His gaze settled on her, unrepentant as his voice. “Didn’t mean to drag you away from work.”

The barb struck home, but she refused to let him see her flinch. “No problem. I’m what you would call between jobs.”

“You finally told the Leech where he could shove it?” For an instant he was startled out of his shell, but she only caught a glimpse before he retreated behind a sneer. “Wonders will never cease.”

She shrugged, matching his attitude. “I screwed up. Got involved with a client who turned out to be married. Let’s just say when I found out, I didn’t take the news well…and now I’ve got all kinds of time on my hands.”

“So you figured you might as well put them on Wyatt.”

A denial leapt to her tongue, but she swallowed it. She refused to lie, and she hadn’t come here to explain or excuse herself. “I just wanted to be sure you’re okay.”

“Well, now you’ve seen for yourself.” He spread his arms, inviting her to see that no, he was not okay, or anywhere in the vicinity. But he was alive and physically healthy. For now. He shook his head. “You can stop looking at me like that. I decided not to rid the world of my presence.”

“Don’t say that!” she snapped.

The horse shied, then ambled off to lip at the remainder of his morning hay.

Hank held up both hands, palms out. “Just kiddin’, Sis. You used to have a sense of humor.”

I also used to have a bright future and a brother who called me every Sunday. “It’s been stretched a little thin lately.”

They stared at each other across the corral, each tense second loaded with all the things she couldn’t say and didn’t want to hear.

She detected a softening in his expression—or manufactured it out of the flickering shadows. “I had a bad moment in Toppenish. It hurt like hell, and I’m literally gonna be paying for it for the rest of my life, so I’m not keen on tryin’ that again.”

She drew a deep, steadying breath. “How long do you think you’ll stay?”

“Dunno.” He cocked his head toward the pickup. “How long you plannin’ to sleep with the enemy?”

“Wyatt is not—” Hell. She didn’t even know where to start, and from the way Hank’s jaw had tightened, there was no explanation that would suffice. “Could we forget about that? I just want to talk to you.”

He squinted, then rubbed his chin, making a show of thinking it over. “You know how Miz Iris always says you can judge a man by the company he keeps?” He jerked his head toward the pickup. “If that’s how you want to hang, then we don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Hank. Wait!”

But he’d already turned his back. He paused only to lift one hand and flip his middle finger. “Pass that along to the condescending prick and tell him ‘no’ still means ‘hell no.’”

And then he was gone, swallowed up by the shadows beneath the trees.

“I love you anyway,” she whispered. The same words she’d said every time she’d bailed him out of whatever mess he’d managed to get into. Hank wouldn’t have heard her if he’d been standing three feet away.

Melanie clenched her hands on the fence rail. The rough bark dug into her palms, a counterpoint to the raw ache in her chest. Dammit. Why had she brought Wyatt? It would have eliminated any chance at a civil conversation even when Hank was still…Hank. She took a moment to breathe through the worst of the pain, then pushed away from the corral and headed for the pickup. The door swung open, and Wyatt stepped out. Bing must have been watching, too, because she came out of the trailer with Norma stumping along behind. Wyatt watched her intently but didn’t say anything, just held the door.

Bing climbed behind the wheel, also silent. No one spoke until they bounced from the dirt track onto the main gravel road.

“Is that an arena?” Wyatt asked, pointing down the river.

“Yes. There’s a bar and restaurant up on the hill. They have team roping and open rodeos all summer. Hank comes over and helps out to earn a little spending money.”

Melanie’s head jerked up. “Fighting bulls?”

“They asked. He said no.” Bing’s tone implied that his refusal had not been a polite one.

Melanie closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head. “I can’t believe he won’t even try…”

“Can’t.” Bing corrected. “Not until he makes peace with what happened to that boy.”

“How’s he going to do that out here all alone, with no one to help?” Melanie demanded.

Bing raised her eyebrows.

Melanie made a frustrated noise. “But he’s down there with nothing…”

“Exactly. I found him a place where there are no expectations to live up to. No one to let down.” Bing shot her a pointed look. “From what I’ve been able to pry out of him, that’s a nice change.”

Melanie felt her face going hot. Yes, she’d lost her temper and her patience at times, but dammit, she’d also been the one cheering him on. She’d paid the tuition for a bullfighting clinic when their dad refused, then driven Hank all the way to Stephenville for the damn thing, missing two good rodeos in the process.

She hadn’t fought for him all these years to just walk away now.

Bing heaved a big I told you so sigh. “This is why I didn’t want to take you down there. You only see what it’s not. Did you even notice what is there? When he first came, he barely set foot out of that camper. Lately, he’s been fixing on the corral and barn, riding that ol’ horse for hours through the hills, working over at the arena a couple of days a week. I even got my nephew to drag him to open gym nights at the grade school a few times. It might not sound like much, but from where he started…”

Melanie blew out a long, shuddering breath. “And I’m supposed to just leave him, and expect a bunch of strangers to care as much about him as I do.”

“I doubt we can manage that.” Bing’s face softened. “You are his sister. But I will look out for him. It’s what I do.”

And it was what Melanie had always done. Now Bing thought she could waltz in and do a better job of it?

Melanie stewed all the way back to the plane. When they arrived, she was stunned to realize it was only twelve thirty. They hadn’t even been on the ground for two hours, but there was no reason to hang around.

She would be back, though—alone and with a plan.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat before you go?” Bing asked as she pulled to a stop.

“We just had pie,” Wyatt reminded her, even though he hadn’t eaten any. “And if the trip home is anything like coming over, we’re better off on an empty stomach.”

Melanie leaned against the pickup beside Bing while Wyatt untied the plane and did his preflight inspection. Satisfied, he came over and extended a hand to Bing.

“We appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome.” She turned and folded Melanie into an unexpected hug. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you,” Melanie whispered. “And thanks for everything you’ve done for him. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. It’s just…”

“I know.” Bing patted her back, then turned her loose, gave a final wave, and drove away.

Melanie stood watching the pickup bump over the grass and onto the highway, oblivious to the chilly wind that whipped her ponytail like a flag. She started when Wyatt put a hand on her shoulder.

“Do you want to stay?” he asked quietly. “I can arrange a rental car, and we could go back to see him again tomorrow…”

She shook her head, especially at the we. “It would be a waste of time.”

Even if she went to Norma’s alone, in a place like this, Hank was bound to hear if Wyatt was anywhere in the vicinity. She took in the mountains, the river, the lake. It was incredibly gorgeous. And maybe Bing was right. It could be good for Hank. For now.

She turned abruptly toward the plane, shaking off Wyatt’s hand when she would rather have curled into the hard, reassuring heat of his body. She’d dragged him along to see Hank without a second thought, a flashing red sign that she was already becoming way too accustomed to leaning into his strength.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said.

He didn’t argue. She supposed the gist of her thoughts was obvious to a man who knew her way too well. When they were settled in, seat belts securely fastened, Wyatt handed her an airsickness bag.

She tried to push it away. “I was fine on the way over.”

“And you’ll probably be fine on the way back.” He shoved the bag onto her lap. “But just in case. You are not puking purple all over my cabin.”

She didn’t have the energy left to fight even this tiny battle, so she kept the damn thing. “Whatever. Take me home, Chuck.”