Chapter 32

Cole had never dreamed he was capable of beating a man to death, but if he’d been close enough to reach Ace Pickett…

Instead, he nearly crushed Shawnee in a belated attempt to protect her from that…that…Christ, there wasn’t even a word for him. She allowed it longer than he expected, but was already pushing away when a car rumbled to a stop in the space Ace’s woman had vacated. Cole didn’t recognize the silver Dodge Charger. The man who swung out of the passenger’s side was another matter.

Cole blinked. “Joe?”

Shawnee spun away from him as the driver and backseat passenger also emerged, both tall, slender, and unmistakably Patterson bred.

“Mornin’,” Joe Cassidy said.

“What—” Cole began, then didn’t bother. He knew why they were here. He could even guess how, given Richard Patterson’s fleet of three private aircraft.

Tori braced one arm on the driver’s door and the other on the roof of the car as her gaze narrowed on Shawnee. “Was that Ace we met on the way in?”

“Yes.” The word sizzled as Shawnee spit it out.

Cole breathed a sigh of relief. Mad was good. Infinitely better than what he’d seen on her face in that awful moment…“He was just leaving,” Cole said. “For good.”

Tori studied Shawnee for another long moment, then nodded. “About time.”

“So what are you, the damage control team?” Shawnee asked.

“Something like that.” Joe opened the back door on his side of the car, dragged out a gear bag, and held it up. “Rumor is you could use a bullfighter.”

“But Violet—” Cole began.

Joe made a rueful face. “Booted me out the door. She says I’m driving her nuts with the hovering.”

Maybe so. Or it might be the story they’d concocted so Cole didn’t feel guilty for dragging Joe away. Or—more accurately—they’d sent him to clean up Cole’s mess. Joe had celebrated his first wedding anniversary by presenting Jacobs Livestock with a check big enough to make him an equal partner. He had as much say in what happened here as Cole did.

But this was Cole’s crew, dammit.

Slumped on his couch through what had remained of the night, Cole had considered every possible angle, every course of action, while desperately wishing it was Shawnee snuggled up against him instead of his dog. Katie was an excellent listener, but she wasn’t much for feedback. Despite all of the excuses and justifications, he kept circling around to the same place. He couldn’t even call it a decision. The proper word would be consequences.

The early morning call to his aunt and uncle was the hardest he’d ever made. The story sounded even uglier in the clear, clean light of day. Steve had been outraged, but he’d brushed off Cole’s apologies—as if he hadn’t completely failed to justify the trust they’d put in him. Still, Cole knew what his uncle had to be thinking.

If only Violet had been there.

They had been in complete agreement on what had to be done. Steve had offered to make the call to Violet, but Cole had declined. His crew. His responsibility. Of course, she’d already known. Word had passed along the chain from Richard Patterson to Tori to Violet. She’d said she was already working on recruiting a bullfighter to fill in for Hank.

She hadn’t mentioned that she didn’t intend to look further than the other side of her bed.

“I came along in case you needed any assistance on the legal front,” Richard Patterson said, failing to look like an average guy despite jeans, boots, and a polo shirt. There was something about his posture. The haircut. The camera-ready smiles. A man couldn’t scrape off a lifetime of polish in a couple of years.

“And I’m just nosy.” Tori’s blatantly curious stare slid from Shawnee to Cole. “All kinds of interesting things going on down here.”

“Make yourself comfortable.” Shawnee waved at the chairs clustered under Cole’s awning. “I’ll grab the sweet tea and cookies.”

As they settled in, Cole gave the senator an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for dragging you down here.”

Richard gave him one of those patented smiles. “I am more than happy to lend a hand after the hospitality your family has extended to me.”

As if Easter dinner at the Jacobs ranch was a huge honor. The man must have piles of invitations—but possibly a shortage of true friends. Money and power had a way of isolating a person. Look at Tori—

Except Cole couldn’t, because he was suddenly, intensely aware that she knew what he and Shawnee had done in her trailer. On her couch. In her bed. He risked a quick glance. She smirked at him. His face flamed, and he dropped his gaze to his boots.

“Well, we sure do appreciate your help,” he told her father.

Shawnee rescued him, returning from her rig with a jug of sweet tea and a Dr. Pepper for Tori. She passed around glasses, poured one for herself, then took a seat off to the side, as if she wasn’t a part of the discussion. And Cole couldn’t very well drag her over next to him where she belonged.

“I should have stopped this,” he said. “I saw the two of them…I should have said something then.”

“I told you not to worry about it,” Shawnee reminded him. “I honestly thought even Hank was smarter than this.”

Joe’s face went hard with contempt. “And we thought he’d learned his lesson at Fort Worth. Those stitches and the two black eyes didn’t come from a bull. He got the shit kicked out of him by a big-ass steer wrestler who didn’t appreciated Hank foolin’ around with his girlfriend. He was damn lucky he wasn’t too beat up to finish the rodeo.”

Tori came to attention. “That’s why Wyatt refused to work with Hank the rest of this year?”

“It wasn’t Wyatt,” Joe said. “I wanted to can him right then and there. There are too many guys like Cruz who appreciate every opportunity…but Wyatt talked me into giving Hank another chance. And he insisted on playing the hard-ass so it didn’t stir up trouble between Violet and Melanie. You know how she is about her brother.”

Oh yeah. Everyone knew Melanie wasn’t entirely rational when it came to Hank. As if it was her fault, and her responsibility to make up for all the fucks their parents hadn’t given about her much younger brother. If Joe had fired Hank, and Melanie had been forced to choose sides…

Joe shook his head. “The only thing Hank is serious about is fighting bulls. And he’s got what it takes to be one of the best—if he’d stop shooting himself in the foot outside the arena. Wyatt thought he could scare him straight. Kick his ass down a few notches and threaten to make sure he never worked another major rodeo if he didn’t smarten up.”

“Could Wyatt do that?” Shawnee asked.

“Without breaking a sweat,” Tori said. “Not everybody likes Wyatt, but they respect him. He always brings his A game and puts it all out there every time. Throw in that pretty face and the way he can work a room? Sponsors and committees love him. A few whispers in the right ears about Hank being unreliable…”

“Would he do that?” Cole asked.

“No.” Joe’s answer was immediate and certain. “Wyatt is into lifting people up, not knocking them down. And why bother? Hank’s doing a damn good job all on his own. But Wyatt’s still gonna be pissed at himself. He’s not used to being wrong.”

The way they’d all been wrong. Too tolerant. Too forgiving. Too…hell. Cole didn’t even know anymore. He could barely remember a time when Hank hadn’t been underfoot. No, his parents hadn’t been the greatest, but he’d had plenty of other perfectly good role models. Dozens of people who’d given him a hand along the way. A sister who’d slay dragons for him. Truth be told, Hank had run out of excuses a long time ago.

But how did you just turn your back on a human being?

Richard Patterson heaved a resigned sigh. “You have to let him go.”

Cole saw agreement in the tight set of Joe’s mouth. Heard it in the grim silence that fell over the group. The dog let out a dejected groan and plopped her chin glumly on her paws.

My thoughts exactly.

“I’ll talk to him,” Joe said.

“No.” Cole said. “My crew. My job.”

Surprised glances ricocheted around the circle. Cole wants to do the talking? His irritation swelled—with them, and with himself. Hank wasn’t the only one who’d been dodging responsibility. It was time for both of them to grow up.

“Are you sure?” Joe said. “He’s practically one of your family.”

“It’s your family, too. This isn’t going to make things easy between Violet and Melanie.” Cole brought the discussion to an end by looking at Tori. “Would you give Tyrell and Mariah a ride to the airport?”

“Sure.”

He met Shawnee’s gaze, not sure what to make of her expression. Was that concern? Or pride? “Can you gather up the crew for a meeting?” he asked her. “I have to talk to Joe.”

“I’m on it.”

Shawnee drained her glass and stood as Tyrell and Mariah came out of her trailer. Tori and Richard also rose. Introductions were made, then the four of them went off to gather luggage and load it in the Charger.

Shawnee poked at her phone. “I’m texting the Leses and Analise, and I’ll go knock on Cruz’s door. I’ll tell them all to come to the office, where we won’t be overheard.”

“Thanks.” Cole wanted to reach for her as she passed. Drag her into his trailer and bury himself in her until everything else went away. Unfortunately, his days of hiding when the going got tough were over. These were his people and, God help them, he was their leader.

But at least Shawnee would be watching his backside.

* * *

Tori caught Shawnee inside her trailer, rinsing sweet tea glasses. She shut the door, then folded her arms and leaned back against it. “You suck.”

Shawnee raised her eyebrows. “Did you fly down here special to let me know?”

“Yes.” Tori tipped the last few drops out of her Dr. Pepper can and tossed it into the trash. “Your dad has been mooching around here for three weeks, you’ve been jumping Cole, your gray horse damn near died, and I have to hear it all from Violet? What kind of friend are you?”

“Lousy. I told you from the start—I don’t do the BFF thing. And my sex life is none of your business.”

“Since when?” Tori’s eyebrows arched, incredulous. “You’re the damn poster child for too much information. And you had your nose stuck in the middle of everything when Delon and I were dating.”

“Somebody had to. The two of you were manufacturing ways to screw it up.”

“And now you owe me. What’s going on between you and Cole?”

Shawnee forced her mouth into the smirk Tori would expect. “I sort of figured after being married twice you’d know about this stuff, but…boys have boy parts, and girls have girl parts, and when you rub them together—” She made an exploding motion with her fingers and a kapow! noise. “Magic!”

Tori gave her a dead-eyed stare. “What I saw when we drove up had nothing to do with sex.”

Right. Tori would have to see that touching little moment. Shawnee yanked open a cupboard door to hide her face and took great care in stowing the glasses so they wouldn’t rattle around on the road. “That was just Cole thinking he needs to play lord and protector.”

Tori straightened, her gaze sharpening. “Did Ace say something to you?”

Only that I’m a walking wrecking ball. Which we all knew. Shawnee wrung the dishcloth tight between her hands. “He was his usual asshole self. I was an asshole back. Turns out he’s better at it than I am. Cole thought”—and rightly so—“that I was upset, so he gave me a hug.”

“Cole…gave you…a hug.” Tori spoke in segments, like she had to process it bit by bit.

Shawnee hitched a shoulder. “He’s the affectionate type.”

“Cole,” Tori repeated. “The guy didn’t speak directly to me until three months after we met.”

“Must not’ve had anything to say.”

Tori angled around to look into Shawnee’s face. “You’re messing with me, right?”

“What do you think?” Shawnee asked, batting her eyes.

Tori growled, spun away, and flung herself on the couch. “You are such a pain in the ass.”

“And this is why we don’t have sleepovers and play Magic 8 Ball. How’s your daddy getting along with his new horse?”

Tori glared at her for a beat, then gave up with an irritated huff. “Great. We went to the club roping in Canyon last week and he caught five out of six steers.”

“Awesome. He must’ve been pumped.”

Tori smiled. “Yeah. It was pretty cool.”

Upon exiting the U.S. Senate, Tori’s father had made learning to rope his first objective. After two years, his appearance at ropings in the Panhandle hardly caused a stir anymore, except among single women of a certain age, and most of them were too scared of Tori to do anything about it.

“Lord, I’m tired. Daddy called me right after he got off the phone with you.” Tori let her head fall back against the couch cushions. “Was last night as scary as I’m imagining?”

“You have no idea.” Shawnee still felt a little sick, remembering the screaming. The gun. Cole and Cruz putting themselves in the line of fire. “When your daddy gave me his cell phone number, I figured I’d only need it if I got drunk and disorderly on the wrong side of the border. I couldn’t believe he jumped right in.”

Tori studied her for a moment that stretched long enough to get uncomfortable. “That’s what real friends are, you know. People who want to be there for you in the hard times. And tend to get irritated when you don’t let them.”

Yep, Tori was pissed. And it was only gonna get worse when she found out about New York. Shawnee opened her mouth, but before she could spill the beans, there was a familiar deep thud on the door.

Cole stuck his head in. “Everybody’s over at the office. You ready?”

“Yeah.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and glanced at Tori. “Wanna have lunch after we’re done?”

Tori shook her head. “As long as we dragged the jet out of the hangar, Daddy figured we might as well fly on up to Ellensburg and watch Delon ride in the finals.”

“Why ever wouldn’t you?” Shawnee drawled. “It’s only a couple thousand miles out of the way.”

Tori stood and sauntered to the door, making deliberate eye contact with Shawnee as she passed. “We can finish this conversation when you bring me back my trailer.”

“Yes, princess.” Shawnee sketched a mocking curtsy.

Tori flipped her off. Now that was the kind of girl chat Shawnee appreciated.

Unlike the one they’d be having when she got home.