Читать книгу The Texan's Christmas - Linda Warren, Linda Warren - Страница 9

LUCINDA LITTLEFIELD.

The name evoked a torrent of high school memories—heavenly blue eyes, kissing in the bleachers, making out in his old pickup…and a whole lot of regret.

Cisco Hardin shifted restlessly in his truck as he sped down the road in High Cotton, Texas. Everyone in school had called her Lucky, and they’d dubbed him Kid. Somehow he knew they’d meet again, but he never dreamed it would be like this.

In his mind their eyes would lock across a crowded room. She’d smile that smile that turned him inside out and all the promises he’d broken would be forgotten. Chickens wearing high heels might be a more likely scenario, he mused. Lucky wasn’t going to forget what he’d done. It was time to roll the dice and see if twenty years had mellowed the cockles of Lucky’s heart.

As he pulled into the parking area of the one beer joint in the small town, his cell jangled to the tune of “Ain’t Going Down (’Til the Sun Comes Up).” Turning off the ignition, he reached for the phone on his belt.

“Hey, Cadde.” His brother was the CEO of Shilah Oil. Kid and Chance, their other brother, had a vested interest in the company, too. The Hardin boys were in the oil business.

“Did you get Lucky to sign the lease?” Cadde always came straight to the point.

“I just reached The Joint.”

“What took so long?”

“Well—” he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel “—I wanted to see Aunt Etta and Uncle Rufus and then I went to Chance’s, but the baby was asleep so I stopped at your house to play with Jacob. He’s crawling everywhere and pulling up to his feet by himself.”

“He’ll be walking soon. Jessie and I can hardly keep up with him.” There was a long sigh. “Kid, you’re stalling.”

“Maybe.” He had to admit this wasn’t easy for him.

“You were only a boy when you promised to call and come back after you left for Lubbock and Texas Tech, but you didn’t. That was years ago. You’ve both moved on.”

“I know. I can’t figure out what she’s doing in High Cotton running her dad’s bar.”

“Don’t worry about her life, just get the lease signed. I’ve already purchased our drilling contract from Anadarko and it didn’t come cheap. Since Bud transferred the land and mineral rights to Lucky, we need her fifty acres to complete the desired acreage to drill the oil well. We have a personal stake in this because our property left to us by our parents is a major part of the tract.”

“I’m well aware of that, big brother.”

“Do you want me to talk to Lucky?”

“Hell, no. Leasing is my department and I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll have to get out of your truck to do that.”

Kid looked around. “Are you watching me?”

There was a laugh on the other end. “No, but I know you and, believe me, this is a first—Kid Hardin afraid to talk to a woman.”

“Lucky’s not any woman.”

“You might want to analyze that statement and why this is so hard for you.”

He’d rather not. “You always said my past was going to come back and haunt me. I can feel the ol’ Ghostbusters chomping at my butt.”

“If you don’t want to see her, Chance or I will do it.”

“Like hell.”

“Then get out of your truck.”

Kid clicked off before the curse words could leave his mouth. Grabbing his hat from the passenger’s seat, he got out. The parking lot was graveled as it had been years ago and it crunched beneath his boots like corn-flakes. The weatherworn siding and tin roof with the rusty spots were the same, too. An iron rail ran across the front. Bud had put it up after a drunk had plowed through his building one night. “The Beer Joint” blinked from a neon sign. Bud hadn’t used much creativity in naming the place. Besides Kid’s truck, three more were nosed up to the rail and it was only five o’clock on a hot September afternoon.

Opening the heavy door, he stepped into the dimly lit bar and just like that, twenty years smacked him in the face. They were seventeen years old and he’d fixed up an old Ford pickup to drive to school. After classes, The Beer Joint was the first place they’d stop. Lucky would go in the side door and sneak out two beers. Then they’d cruise the back roads, stopping at the old abandoned Potter place beneath an overgrown entrance. He’d drink his beer and then hers because she’d only take a couple of sips. The rest of the afternoon they’d spend making out when they should have been studying.

He was her first and he’d thought he would love her forever.

After his eyes adjusted, he saw the inside was the same, too; the back wall had a row of red booths that now looked more orange than red. Wooden tables were scattered in the center, the old jukebox that probably held records from the 1980s occupied another wall, and to the left was the mahogany bar Bud had built. It shone like glass. A couple huddled together in a booth, two guys sat at a table and three cowboys were bellied up to the bar talking to a waitress.

He didn’t see Lucky.

Straddling a faded red bar stool, he looked around, his eyes falling on the waitress. She made no move to serve him. One cowboy said something and she laughed. His mind reeled. Oh, my God! He knew that soft, seductive chuckle. It visited him often in his dreams. Could she be…?

His eyes roamed over her slim yet curvy figure dressed in tight jeans. Her breasts pushed against a blue fitted blouse and the first button was undone. That he noticed, but her hair drew his attention. Lucky’s blond hair was long and flowing. This woman’s was short, kind of chic, wobberjawed is what he’d call the style. It looked damn good on her, though.

Lucky.

What have you done to your hair?

Just when he was about to fall off his bar stool from shock, she turned and walked over to him.

“Can I get you anything?”

The soft lilting voice was the same but there was no recognition in the blue eyes—the eyes that used to sparkle for him. Now they just stared at him with irritation.

He wanted to say, “It’s me, Kid,” but somehow the words got tangled up in the past of his misdeeds. What he said was, “Beer. Miller Lite.”

“Can or bottle?”

“Bottle.”

Behind her was a large cooler filled with numerous kinds of beer. She opened the door and grabbed one. After placing it in front of him on a napkin, she laid a ticket on the bar. He pulled out his wallet and placed a five on top of it.

“Keep the change.”

Without a word, she put the ticket and money in the cash register. She slammed it shut and went back to the cowboys, ignoring him as if he were invisible.

That was cold.

But she was beautiful and sexy, just like he’d remembered. The classic lines of her face were now mature as was her body. And her breasts—were they always that full? They used to fit the palm of his hand perfectly.

She didn’t recognize him! That took a moment to digest. Getting her to sign a lease was going to be so much easier now. He’d worried for nothing.

Looking down, he saw the bottle still had the cap on it. He knew it was a twist-off, but just to niggle her, he called, “Miss?”

She glanced his way.

“Aren’t you supposed to remove the cap?”

“Oh.” She moved over to him, her blue eyes narrowed. “I thought you could flick it off with your thumb.”

He frowned. Was she joshing him? He used to brag about that in high school. Not that he could, but it didn’t keep him from boasting.

Taking the bottle, she gave it a quick twist and placed it in front of him on the napkin. Foam oozed from the top and spilled onto the side. Did she shake it?

Again, without a word she walked away.

He needed another napkin, but decided against asking. He took a cold sip.

A man came through the door on the right, carrying a case of beer. Bubba Joe Grisley. In school, he’d had a big head and his body had finally caught up. The man was huge. Did he work here? From the apron he wore, Kid figured he did. Bubba Joe used to have a crush on Lucky. Had they hooked up? Chance had said that Lucky wasn’t married, but that didn’t mean a thing.

Bubba Joe unloaded the case into the cooler and turned, his eyes catching Kid’s. “Well, if it ain’t Crisco Hardin.”

Kid ran his thumb over the frosty bottle. “If you call me Crisco one more time, I’m going to jump across this bar and show you how strong I’ve gotten in twenty years.”

Bubba Joe laughed, a sound that rumbled through his large chest. “Hey, Kid. I’m joking.”

“I didn’t like it when you called me that in third grade and I don’t like it now.”

“Hell, Kid, you got all the looks and charm and all I got was a big head. I had to have some fun.” Bubba Joe rubbed his balding head. “I think I still have knots that you put there.”

“I didn’t hit you that hard.”

“Life was good back then, huh?” Before Kid could answer, Bubba Joe shouted to Lucky. “Hey, Kid Hardin’s back in town.”

“I know. I served him a beer,” she said without any emotion, and without looking his way.

That was even colder.

She remembered. On that thought came another. After all these years she was still pissed and madder than a bear caught in a trap. He knew Lucky and her stubborn pride. She wasn’t ever going to forgive him. Forgiveness wasn’t something he needed—too many years had passed for that. But he was sorry he’d hurt her.

After his parents’ tragic deaths, his mind was all messed up and Lucky was there to comfort him in a way no one else could. They were friends a long time before their relationship had become intimate.

“Are you moving back to High Cotton like your brothers?” Bubba Joe asked, leaning on the bar.

“Nah.” Kid took a swallow. “I’m staying in Houston. I’ve gotten used to the bright lights.”

“Yeah. I bet.” Bubba Joe snickered in that I-know-what-you-mean sort of way.

Kid just drank his beer, but every now and then he could feel Lucky’s heavenly baby blues on him. But now there was nothing divine about them. Instead, they gave off more of a fire and brimstone feel.

“Chance built a huge roping pen back of his house. I see him out there roping most weekends. His little girl, too. Sometimes Tyler Jakes ropes with him. He’s a roping champion.”

Kid brought his attention back to Bubba Joe. “Tyler’s a rodeo guy and he and Chance will always be cowboys.” Tyler was younger than the Hardin boys but his rodeo success was well-known.

“Chance’s wife just had a baby.”

“Yeah.” Kid twisted the bottle. “A little boy named Cody.”

“His wife teaches at the school. My cousin has her for a teacher and he has a big crush on her—a beautiful blonde. Who wouldn’t?”

“Shay’s a real nice lady and Chance is lucky to have met her.” But the relationship almost disintegrated on its own when Chance had found out the truth about Shay’s past.

Chance had been asleep in the backseat the night their parents had crashed into a tree and died. Loud voices had awakened him. Seemed their father was leaving his family for another woman. That was the horrible secret Chance had kept, never telling anyone until about three years ago when he’d finally told his brothers.

No one knew who the other woman was until Shay literally crashed into Chance’s life. The other woman was her mother.

Kid gulped the cold beer. That news had been hard to take, but they’d gotten through it as brothers. Their father had been a big part of their lives, so much so they’d followed him into the oil business. Chuck Hardin had roughnecked most of his life. He’d told his sons that they’d do better than him. They’d get an education and move up the ladder into a position of power. Everything their father had taught them felt tarnished by his betrayal.

“We all knew Cadde was going to succeed,” Bubba Joe was saying. “He had that drive, even back then. Who knew he’d marry the boss’s daughter.”

“Yeah, who knew?” Kid swirled the beer around in the bottle. The marriage of convenience had turned into something special. Nothing much distracted Cadde from the oil business, except Jessie. When they’d lost their first child, Kid feared Cadde was never going to make it back from the edge. But he’d heard love had the power to heal. Kid didn’t know much about that, though.

“I see his wife every now and then at Walker’s General Store. She pushes the baby around in a stroller looking at everything in there like she’s at Neiman Marcus. Her dog is in the stroller, too. It’s a weird thing without any ears and if you get anywhere near that baby it growls and barks. Jessie, I think her name is, always apologizes. Man, she’s a looker, and pregnant again. You Hardin boys are going to keep the name alive.”

“Yeah,” was all he said. His brothers had found something rare and he was happy for them. But he would always be the uncle and he was comfortable in that role.

“How about you, Kid. You married?”

“Nah. How about you?” Kid drained his beer.

“I still live with my momma. Every time I try to leave she gets sick.”

Kid wanted to laugh. “Big-headed momma’s boy” is what they used to call Bubba Joe. He didn’t quite understand why kids had to be so cruel. In third grade Billy Ray Tarvel couldn’t say “Cisco” so he’d called Kid “Crisco” because that’s what his mom used to make pies. Kid had to forcibly hold Billy Ray down one day to make him say “Kid.” After that no one but Bubba Joe called him that twice. Bubba Joe never did it in a cruel way. It was fun and he wanted to be Kid’s buddy. Kid put knots on his head anyway.

Mostly, he had good memories about school, especially high school, and Lucky was a big part of that.

“Nice talking to you, Kid,” Bubba Joe said. “I have to get back to work. Stop in again when you’re in town.”

“Thanks.” He nodded and glanced toward Lucky. She was still talking to the cowboys as if they were her very best friends and giving them a very good view of her breasts. This wasn’t the shy, demure girl he’d once known. It didn’t matter. He was here on business and he had to get the job done.

“Lucky?”

She glanced at him, said something to the guys and came his way.

“You want another beer?” Her voice was so cold a chill ran up his spine.

“No. I…uh…I’d like to talk.” Damn! He sounded like he was sixteen asking her for a date. But he’d never been this nervous. Talking to women came naturally to him. Why wasn’t it easy to talk to Lucky?

“Talk,” she replied, keeping the temperature subzero.

He stood and motioned toward a table. “In private.”

He thought she was going to refuse, but she walked around the bar and sat down on a faded chair. He joined her. The air-conditioning was cool but he could feel the heat building between them. And it wasn’t a good heat.

Removing his hat, he placed it on the table and looked into her cold, cold eyes. “You look great.”

Lucky clasped her hands in her lap. What was she supposed to say to that? You lying cheating bastard came to mind. But she wouldn’t sink to his level.

“I’m thirty-eight years old and I left looking good behind in my twenties.”

“Come on, Lucky, you’re still a knockout.”

So are you.

This was where his deep sexy voice and sincere brown eyes always broke any resolve about not letting Kid get to her. He had a way of making a woman feel special, as if she was beautiful and the only woman in the world for him. As a teenager she had fallen for his smooth-talking lies. As a mature woman she could hardly believe she’d been so naive—so naive that she’d actually believed a popular boy like Kid loved the barkeeper’s daughter.

Due to her father’s occupation the kids in school tended to look down on her. But Kid took her to school parties and dances and the shy girl finally fit in for the first time in her life.

Because Kid Hardin loved her.

Briefly.

Why couldn’t he have loved her the way she’d loved him?

From the rumor mill in High Cotton she’d heard that many women had filled her shoes since. That hurt.

“What do you want, Kid?”

His warm glance slid over her face, and she felt a weakening deep in her stomach. The years had been kind to him. His hair was dark with just a hint of gray, and his chiseled features, strong chin, devil-may-care attitude and twinkle in his eyes could melt the coldest heart. The five o’clock shadow added to his sex appeal.

Don’t let him get to you.

“Why did you cut your hair?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your hair.” He waved a hand toward her. “It used to be long and gorgeous.”

She looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not eighteen anymore.”

“Ah, Lucky, I think we’ll always be eighteen.” That you’re special gaze in his eyes did a number on her senses. She felt like that young girl who believed in fairy-tale endings—who believed in Kid. The thought stiffened her backbone.

“I’m not going down memory lane with you.”

As if she hadn’t spoken, he said, “What are you doing running your dad’s beer joint? What happened to your plans of being a nurse?”

What happened?

Her stomach clenched tight. The day Kid had left for Texas Tech played vividly in her mind as if it were yesterday. It was mid-August and hot, much the same as today. Kid had driven to her house in his new red Chevy pickup that Dane Belle had bought him. After his parents’ deaths, the Hardin boys lived on the High Five ranch, owned by Dane, with their aunt and uncle. Dane became the father figure they’d lost. All the boys loved and respected him.

That day they’d leaned against his truck saying goodbye.

“I wish your dad had sprung for you going to nursing school in Lubbock, and then we could have been together.”

“It’s too far away and I’m all he’s got.” She stroked his chest. “I wish Dane hadn’t insisted you go to Tech.”

“It’s where Cadde is and Dane feels we need to stay close as brothers.”

“But I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll call and write,” Kid said, running his fingers through her long hair.

She pressed into him, not knowing how she was going to exist without Kid. He kissed her long and deep.

“When are you leaving for Austin?” he asked against her lips.

“In about two weeks.”

He tucked her hair behind her ears, his eyes dark and serious. “You’re not going to forget me, are you?”

“I’ll never forget you,” she whispered.

“I love you, Lucky.” His voice cracked when he said her name. “I will always love you.”

“There’ll never be anyone else for me.”

“I’ll call as soon as I get there,” he promised.

They’d held on to each other for a long time and then Kid had driven away. She’d waved until she couldn’t see him anymore. Every day she’d waited for that call. At the end of two weeks she finally had to admit to herself that he wasn’t ever going to call or come back for her.

She’d left for Austin with a broken heart.

Kid Hardin was a liar and a cheat.

Why was she even talking to him?

“Lucky?”

She quickly got her emotions under control. “What do you want, Kid?”

“My brothers and I are in the oil business.”

“I’m aware of that. I don’t live under a rock. Cadde and Chance have moved back home and I see their wives all the time.”

“You know Shay and Jessie?”

“Yes.” Why did he seem so shocked? She supposed he thought the barkeeper’s daughter wasn’t good enough to socialize with the Hardins. She immediately pushed all that resentment away. “Darcy’s the only kid I know who would come into a bar to sell Girl Scout Cookies.”

“Shay let her do that?”

There was that note of concern again. In that moment she knew what she’d probably known for the past twenty years. That Kid had used her like all the other boys in school had tried. But he’d done it with words of I love you and forever. And she’d fallen for his lies like a child tottering on a cliff.

“Don’t worry, Kid, Shay was waiting outside. Chance had said that Darcy had to sell the cookies herself and she was determined to sell the most in her troop.”

“Yeah. I bought two cases. I munched on those things for months.”

She took a long breath, not wanting to get into a family discussion. That was too easy, too familiar.

“I have to get back to work.”

“Wait.” He held up a hand. “I’d like to talk about oil leases.”

“What?” She eased back into her chair.

“Shilah Oil would like to lease your land for oil and gas.”

She wanted to laugh and without realizing it she did. She had something Kid wanted. This was going to be fun.

“No,” she replied without having to think about it.

“Come on, Lucky. This could be good for you.” He glanced around. “Maybe you could get out of this place.”

That did it.

“The land is not for lease.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not leasing to a Hardin.”

He drew back as if she’d hit him. “Come on, Lucky.”

Come on, Lucky. That and his I-live-for-you smile were his trademarks. Come on, Lucky. He’d kiss her cheek. Come on, Lucky. He’d stroke her hair. Come on, Lucky. And she’d do anything he wanted.

But not anymore.