Big Sky Page 7

  “But you were the victim,” Brett reasoned. “Your ex and your sister should have been the ones run out on a rail.”

  “I thought Clint had left. I kept up with a few friends for a while who’d told me he’d gone further west. That’s why I’m surprised to see he’s back in town and running for political office.” She plowed a hand through her hair. “Jamie never gave a damn about anything. She screwed lots of guys who had girlfriends and wives. Still, sleeping with her sister’s husband was an all-time low, even for her.”

  Anger flared in Brett’s gut for the pain Taylor had gone through. He knew all too well what it felt like to be swindled by someone you loved. Marci had been the ultimate deceiver, pretending she was happy, only for him to learn after the divorce that she’d stepped out with any tomcat that would have her during the last two years of their marriage.

  “I really am sorry,” he reiterated. “You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

  “I appreciate that. In the first few years after the divorce, I wondered if it had been my fault. Jamie never tried to contact me to apologize, as if there’d been nothing for her to be sorry about. My own mother had made me think I’d driven Clint into an affair. I used to really question myself. Maybe I was a neglectful wife and a terrible sister.”

  “That’s B.S.,” Brett said. “If your husband was so unhappy in the marriage, he should have let you know before he stepped out. The two of you could have gone for counseling, or something. As for your sister, there’s no excuse for what she did. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave her.”

  With her mouth gaping, Taylor said, “You wouldn’t?”

  “No. Some people behave despicably and don’t deserve forgiveness.”

  After a pause in which it appeared she was thinking that over, she said, “Wow. You’re really mad at your ex-wife, aren’t you?”

  Brett narrowed his eyes. “We’re talking about you, Taylor.”

  “Sure.” A warm smiled graced her flushed face. “Thanks for your support. I haven’t had much of it through the years, except from my therapist. I needed to hear that from a regular person.” When her fingers brushed his arm, his heart ricocheted in his chest like a pinball.

  Feeling her arms around him earlier when they were on Bill, her breasts pressed against his back, and her hips rocking in rhythm with his had sent him to a place he hadn’t been in a very long time. The touch of her hand was about to make him come undone.

  It’d been far too long since he’d been with a woman. But no matter how attracted he was to her, his strong code of ethics stopped his thoughts from wandering further. He enjoyed, and needed, his job at the Slash Y. No woman, even the beautiful and sexy Taylor, was going to screw that up. Will Banner trusted him and had become like a surrogate father. Besides, it seemed easy to trip Taylor’s trigger. The last thing he needed was a woman like Marci whose emotions ran hot and cold. He wasn’t interested in expending much time on people who said one thing and did another.

  “I don’t want to talk about Clint anymore,” Taylor said, suddenly cheering up. “I need a few things.” She pushed open the door of a western clothing store he’d frequented once or twice.

  “I can wait for you in the truck,” he offered, standing back.

  “No. Come inside with me. Maybe there’s something you need.”

  “I don’t need a thing.”

  “Then help me pick out a cowboy hat.”

  He chuckled. “What do you need a cowboy hat for?”

  “I might want to go riding while I’m here. I can’t be out in the sun without a hat. It might ruin my creamy white skin. Come on. I’m enjoying your company.”

  Happy hearing that and having no intention of refusing her the pleasure of his company, Brett put his hand on the small of her back and prodded her forward. A sensor above the door buzzed when they entered.

  “Have you been in here before?” she asked, veering to the right and heading straight for the women’s section.

  “A few times.”

  It didn’t seem she was too choosey. Taylor made quick work of gathering some shirts, a couple more pairs of jeans, some shorts and socks into her arms and made a beeline for the checkout counter.

  “Aren’t you going to try those on?” he asked, following her to the front.

  “No. They’ll fit. I’ve been the same size since I was in high school, and I used to buy clothes here all the time. Hello, Mrs. Kruse,” she said, greeting the older lady at the cash register.

  “Well, for land’s sakes. If it isn’t Taylor Young!” The two women gave each other a hug over the counter. “How are you, sugar? All rich and famous in Hollywood, I hear.”

  “Not really. Just trying to earn a living like everyone else,” Taylor said, smiling. “How’s Mr. Kruse?”

  “Retired and loving it. He sits at home and watches soaps and game shows all day. I can’t stand to sit around, so I keep coming in here every day. I’d miss chatting with folks and would probably shrivel up and blow away if I quit working.”

  “Well, it sure is good to see you. Do you know Mr. Austin?” she asked, introducing him. “He’s the foreman at the Slash Y.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” She shook his hand. “I believe I’ve seen you in here a time or two.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ve bought a couple of shirts from you. They were of very nice quality,” he added.

  Taylor giggled.

  “Yes, I have noticed you,” Mrs. Kruse said, winking at Taylor. “I never forget a handsome man. I’m old but I’m not blind.”

  “Could you please hold onto these for me?” Taylor asked, shoving her stuff to the end of the counter. “I have one more item on my list. Mr. Austin is going to help me pick out a new hat.”

  “Have at it,” Mrs. Kruse said, motioning toward the back. “We have a large selection. You should find something you like.”

  Brett couldn’t help but appreciate the sway of Taylor’s hips as he followed her to the back of the store.

  “What do you think of this one?” she asked, trying on a charcoal brown felt hat. “It’s probably too heavy for summer, but I love the color.”

  “You need a straw hat this time of year.” He eyeballed the choices and picked one off the rack and plopped it on her head. It was made of raffia straw and was adorned with a twisted leather band and a brass star Concho in the center. “This one suits you.”

  She admired herself in the mirror.

  “You can step on it or even let the dog sleep in that hat and it’ll pop right back into shape,” Brett guaranteed. When Taylor laughed, it was like music to his ears.

  “I don’t have a dog,” she said, leaning her shoulder into his.

  She was flirting, and despite his earlier intention to keep his emotions at bay, it got his blood racing. “Well, if you did,” he replied, “he could curl up in that hat and it wouldn’t hurt it any.”

  “I like it,” Taylor said, nodding firmly. “In fact, I like it so much I might even sleep in it myself.” She smiled and then asked him a question that came from out of the blue. “Brett, do you live on the ranch or here in town?”

  “I stay at the ranch in the little cabin beyond the bunkhouse. When I hired on, Will told me he preferred his foreman to live onsite, and I didn’t have a place of my own anyway. It suits me, for now.”

  She nodded again and headed to the front of the store wearing the hat. He tagged after her like a pup and wondered why she’d asked the question. He stood off to the side waiting while she paid for her items and said goodbye to Mrs. Kruse.

  “Come back soon, Mr. Austin,” the lady called as they made their way to the door. “You too, Taylor.”

  Brett had just put his hand on the door when a blonde woman on the other side flung it open, causing him to stumble forward.

  “Oh! Excuse me!” She flashed Brett a beauty queen smile, and her eyes, which were as blue as morning glories, seem to glitter like diamonds. He’d never seen her around before, and his first reaction was that while pret
ty, she was too bubbly for his tastes. She reminded him of the high school cheerleaders he’d known.

  She batted her thick eyelashes and then swung her gaze to Taylor and her big smile disappeared. In fact, it seemed from the stunned expression on her face that she’d seen a ghost.

  Brett held the door open so she could step inside.

  “Taylor Young,” she deadpanned. “What on earth are you doing back in Prosperity after all this time?”

  Brett glanced at Taylor, who didn’t appear all that thrilled to see her either. “Hello, Erin,” she said politely. “I came home for a short visit.”

  “I heard your mama broke her hip.”

  “News travels fast.”

  “Well, you know small towns.”

  “Do I ever.”

  Silently, the two women ogled each other with narrowed eyes until the blonde gazed at Brett again and said, “Who do we have here?”

  “I’m Brett Austin, ma’am.” He removed his Stetson and tipped his head. “I’m foreman of the Slash Y Ranch.”

  “Nice to meet you, Brett Austin, foreman of the Slash Y Ranch,” Erin purred.

  He slid a glance at Taylor to see her rolling her eyes. “Well, we’ve got to be on our way,” Taylor said, shoving Brett into the door.

  “Have you heard Clint is back and running for CEO?” Erin said, moving in front of Taylor and smashing her shopping bag against her legs. “I’m his campaign manager.”

  “Is that so?” Taylor turned and couldn’t have acted more disinterested when she said, “Good luck with that. Let’s go, Brett.” She placed one palm on the door and swung her bag into Erin on purpose.

  “Wait,” Erin said, halting Taylor again. Erin stepped in front of Brett and thrust her left hand into Taylor’s face. A huge diamond sparkled from the ring finger of her hand. “I’m also his fiancée. We’re getting married in August.”

  Brett eased back, shoved his hands into his pockets, and waited for the fireworks to begin.

  After what seemed an eternity with the two women staring each other down, Taylor’s voice dripped with sarcasm when she replied, “Congratulations, Erin. I wish you as much joy with Clint as I had with him. And I mean that with all my heart.”

  Erin’s mouth puckered as if she’d sucked down a lemon and Brett couldn’t help but chuckle. Taylor pushed open the door with her hip and stepped into the sunshine with her head held high.

  Brett grinned, shrugged, and tipped his hat once more to Erin. “Ma’am.”

  Chapter Ten

  Taylor let herself into Brett’s pickup and slammed the door. Of all the people to run into on her first day back, why did it have to be Erin Randall?

  “I take it you and the former Miss Rodeo Queen are not the best of friends,” Brett said, climbing in.

  His comment startled her. “How’d you know she was Miss Rodeo Queen?”

  “She has that pageant princess vibe. Is she your mortal enemy or something?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but Erin Randall and I are not friends. We were in constant competition when we were growing up. If we weren’t vying for a rodeo title, it was for student body president, yearbook editor, lead in the school play, or for a date with the football quarterback.”

  “You were an all around Girl Scout, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. I was one of those, too.” Taylor laid her head back on the seat and chuckled. “I wonder what that says about me.”

  “That you were a busy girl.”

  She laughed and felt her cheeks flame when he seared her with a burning hot gaze.

  “And now it seems Miss Rodeo Queen—”

  “Erin Randall,” Taylor interjected. “Her reign as queen has long passed into the annals of ancient history. As has her small butt, I noticed.”

  He snickered and corrected himself. “Pardon me. Now, this competitor of yours, Erin Randall, is marrying your ex-husband. I caught the sarcasm in your congratulations.”

  Taylor snorted. “The two of them deserve each other. I meant what I said to her back there.”

  His mouth tilted. “I could tell. I liked the way you took her down a notch.”

  “You did?”

  “Yep. She was a little too full of herself.”

  Taylor stared. Was he being supportive because he agreed with her point of view, or because he had an ulterior motive? Either way, she was starting to like the cowboy more and more.

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “Erin beat me at a lot of things, but I was a better horsewoman than her. I have a whole case full of awards to prove it.”

  “I’d like to see those sometime.”

  His blue eyes penetrated her like a laser, and a tingle moved to her shoulders. “They’re back at the house.” As soon as the words tumbled from her mouth, she wondered why she’d told him that.

  “In your bedroom?”

  Their gazes fused and Taylor felt her throat muscles catch. Was he waiting for an official invitation up to her room? There was no way. Not with Will and Mama down the hall. Anyway, they weren’t teenagers. She snapped her seat belt over her middle and changed the subject. “Maybe we should get back to the ranch. I think I’ll rest before supper, and you probably have some work to do before the day ends. I’ve kept you long enough.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say. You’re the boss’s daughter.”

  The comment was far from prickly, but she wondered exactly what he meant by it.

  Brett fired up the truck, backed up, and started out of town. “I expect you’ll see more posters around with your ex’s face plastered on them,” he said, pointing out another one. “I’m a good listener if you want to talk about him.”

  “Thanks, but I already have a shrink back in Los Angeles. I can’t afford two of you.” She smiled. “Actually, I’ve been over Clint for years. I got past the anger and moved on a long time ago. Seeing that poster surprised me is all. And running into Erin got me a little riled.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’re over him. Old wounds untreated only continue to fester.”

  She angled her head. “Sounds like you speak from personal experience.”

  “I’ve had my share of therapy.”

  “Oh? Do you still see a shrink?”

  He nodded. “Every day. Bill’s the best therapist around. He lets me talk without interrupting, he doesn’t make me share my feelings if I don’t want to, and he’s cheap.”

  Taylor laughed again, something she’d done a lot of today. A sense of humor was attractive in a man. She wondered about his ex-wife, but wasn’t about to pry after she’d given him an ear full about minding his own business when they first met. In the short time they’d spent together, she got the impression he was a good guy. Obviously, Will trusted and respected him. Maybe she could trust him, too. Mama’s suspicions about Jamie had been nagging at her and the only person Taylor could talk to about it was Will. And he believed Mama was simply not accepting the truth about Jamie’s death. Maybe an objective person could help her shed some light on what to do.

  “Brett, how well did you know my sister?”

  “We didn’t date and we weren’t intimate, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  Her eyebrow arched. The thought had crossed her mind, if only for a second. She was more than relieved to hear the conviction in his voice, which shot down any notions she might have had about him and Jamie hooking up.

  “I’ll admit I’m very glad to hear that. Jamie was known for being a player. She left a long line of broken-hearted men behind in her wake. I’m glad you aren’t one of them.”

  He kept his focus on the road and steered with one hand. His other hand dangled below the window with his elbow sticking out to get some sun. “I may be just a cowboy, Taylor, but I take my job seriously. I’m a professional. I wouldn’t dream of messing around with my employer’s daughter.”

  Did that include her? He’d just referred to her as the boss’s daughter. If so, why had she caught him ogling her more than once? And why had he practically invited himsel
f up to her room to see her old rodeo awards? Confused, Taylor pondered it over and decided Brett was a more complicated man than she’d thought. Which made him even more appealing.

  “Thanks for clearing that up. Mama told me Jamie had a boyfriend. Did you know him?”

  “I know the name.”

  “You do? Will couldn’t remember it.” She straightened in her seat and felt like a miner about to strike gold. “What’s his name?”

  “Adam Echo Hawk. I think he’s of the Crow Nation.”

  “Do you know anything more about him? Like, what he does for a living, or where he lives?”

  “Nope. Why the questions?” Brett tossed her a quizzical look.

  Now that she’d baited and hooked him, it was only fair to let the rest of the worms out of the can. “My mother doesn’t believe my sister committed suicide. She thinks someone may have murdered her. And she’s asked me to play detective. She wants justice served. As do I, if it’s true.”

  Brett didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he asked, “There was a coroner’s report, wasn’t there?”

  “Yes, but Mama says she doesn’t trust the coroner. Will believes Jamie was still using drugs. He says Jim Reynolds, the coroner, found pills and alcohol in her bloodstream. He claims Mama won’t accept reality, so she wants to blame someone else.”

  “But you have your own doubts?”

  “After thinking it through, I’m starting to. Mama swears Jamie was getting her life together. She mentioned this new boyfriend and also an art exhibit Jamie was getting ready for. Did you know Jamie was into photography?”

  He hesitated before answering. “Like I said, I didn’t know her well. I saw her around once in a while. We never had a real conversation.”

  “Apparently she wanted to invite me to the reception. Mama also claims Jamie had been clean and sober for six months. I don’t know why Will wouldn’t have known that. I was also surprised when Mama said Jamie asked for my contact information. Maybe she was finally prepared to make amends for the past. That’s part of the twelve-step program they learn in Alcoholics Anonymous, right?”

  “I wouldn’t know for sure, but that’s what I’ve heard.”