Blame It On The Cowboy

“You’re sure it’s bullshit and not cat shit?” Logan asked. Because along with inheriting guardianship of the girls, Lucky and Cassie had also inherited six cats. Five of those cats were now at the ranch.

Lucky shook his head. “Definitely bullshit, and I should know because I’m a bullshit connoisseur.”

Since Lucky had been riding rodeo bulls for more than a decade, that did indeed make him an expert. Not just on the crap but the bulls themselves.

“That means I’m going to need to move them,” Lucky went on, “and I was thinking about the back pastures. But Rico said you were planning on putting some horses back there.”

He was. Or rather, Riley was since he was in charge of the new cutting horse program that they’d started. And Riley and Logan had indeed discussed that with Rico Callahan, one of their top ranch hands.

Logan sat there, debating on which would smell worse—horseshit or bullshit. It was a toss-up. “Move the bulls to the back pastures,” Logan finally said. “When the horses arrive, I’ll have Riley split them in the other pastures for the time being.”

It was a temporary fix since Riley would eventually want the cutting horses together so they’d be easier to train, and that meant they needed to prep one of the other two pastures they weren’t using. The problem at the McCord Ranch wasn’t enough land—there was plenty of that—but with their operation expanding, they needed someone who could manage the ranch grounds themselves. Someone more than just the hands.

“Hire whoever you need to fix this,” Logan told his brother.

Whenever he was talking to Lucky, his twin, Logan always tried to tone down his voice. After all, Lucky could have been co-CEO, but in his will, their father had named only Logan. Logan supposed he felt guilty about that, but then until recently Lucky had shown zero interest in being part of McCord Cattle Brokers. Since it was something Logan had always wanted—all of his siblings helping him with the family business—he didn’t want to push any of Lucky’s buttons that might be waiting to be pushed.

Lucky mumbled that he would hire someone and checked his watch. “Say, it’s lunchtime. Wanna go over to the Fork and Spoon and grab something to eat?”

Logan figured that was Lucky’s plan all along, to get him out of the office because Lucky could have just called with the bullshit problem. Lucky did have an office just up the hall, but he rarely used it. He wasn’t a behind-the-desk kind of guy. Plus, he still had his own rodeo promotion company to run. What with raising two kids and being in a fairly new relationship, Lucky didn’t have a lot of free time.

Which meant this was a coddling attempt on Lucky’s part.

“No.” Lucky held up his hands in defense as if he knew what Logan was thinking. Maybe he did. Logan had never experienced that twin telepathy thing, but it was possible Lucky did. Of course, telepathy wasn’t needed since Lucky had seen what Helene had done.

“You’re not here to check on me?” Logan clarified.

Lucky shook his head. “Della’s on a health kick and is making baked chicken and salad for lunch. I want a mystery-meat grease burger and soggy fries from the Fork and Spoon.”

Logan gestured for him to go for it.

Lucky huffed. “The waitresses,” he said.

And Logan got it then. Not from telepathy, either. But Lucky had a reputation as a player, and despite the fact that he was now involved with Cassie, the waitresses and some other women in town seemed to enjoy testing Lucky’s commitment to Cassie. His brother must want that burger pretty bad to go through another round of that.

“I’m not running interference for you with women,” Logan warned him.

“No need. They’ll be feeling so sorry for you that they’ll leave me the heck alone. The last time I was in there, Sissy Lee spilled ice tea on my crotch and proceeded to wipe it off. Really hard and fast. I think she was trying her damnedest to give me a hand job.”

If that had come from any other man, Logan would have considered it an exaggeration, but women did stuff like that to Lucky all the time, and it’d started around the time they hit puberty. Logan didn’t get it. Lucky and he were identical, but if you put them in the middle of a bunch of horny women, 90 percent of them would go after Lucky first.

“You won’t run into Helene,” Lucky continued. “She hasn’t come back to town since everything happened.”

Yeah, Greg had mentioned that, but when his assistant had tried to give him more details, Logan had told him to get his butt back to work. He didn’t need details about anything that involved Helene.

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard from her?” Lucky asked.

Logan managed to stave off a scowl. “No. And I don’t expect she’ll call because I doubt she’ll want to explain what was going on in her office that night.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know what was going on.”

Yes. Logan was sure of that, too. Helene had been fucking a clown.

In hindsight, it was sort of surreal, like a perfect storm of Logan’s nightmares. Well, it would have been if he’d had nightmares about Helene being unfaithful. He hadn’t because it hadn’t even been on his radar. But the clown nightmares? He’d had plenty of those since he was nine years old and had sneaked a copy of Stephen King’s It from his dad’s office.

“Still no idea who the clown was?” Lucky went on.

This time Logan did give him a scowl and no answer. Because no, he didn’t have a clue. Nor did he want to know.

Once you saw your girlfriend screwing a clown, it didn’t matter who was wearing those big floppy shoes and was behind the white face, red lips and red squeaky nose.

“So, what do you say about having a burger with me?” Lucky pressed when Logan didn’t budge, answer or quit scowling. “I want to talk to you on the walk over. Nothing else about Helene, I promise. This is something else. Something personal.”

Since the Fork and Spoon Café was only a block and a half up from the McCord building, it would be a short conversation, but he wasn’t sure Lucky was going to give up on this. Besides, Logan wanted a grease burger now, too.

Logan slipped on his cowboy hat, grabbed his phone and headed out. “Don’t make a big deal about this,” he warned Lucky, and then gave the same warning to Greg when they walked past his desk.

The lanky assistant jumped to his feet as if trying to contain his excitement. Maybe because it was the first time Logan had left the building in more than a week. Easy to stay under the roof of the converted Victorian house when he had a studio apartment on the third floor. It was even easier now that he was having his groceries delivered. The only time he left was for a business meeting out of town.

“Not a word,” Logan added to Greg because Logan thought he needed to say something to wipe that gleeful look off his face. And Logan tried not to look too displeased that the guy was wearing a purple suit. Yes, purple. “And do the paperwork to finalize the sale of those cows I just bought from Jason Murdock.”

Greg nodded, too eagerly, and Logan was sure he was still eager-ing when Lucky and he walked out the front door.

Logan immediately had to pull down the brim of his cowboy hat to shield his eyes. He’d gone too long without sunshine, and it would continue. The less contact he had with people right now, the better. In a couple more months when the gossip died down, he’d try to get back to normal.

After he learned what normal would be for him, that is.

“Two things,” Lucky said as they walked. “How are you? And before you blast me, Della put me up to it. She and Stella are worried about you. I’m not. Because I know if your head was still messed up, you’d tell me.”

No, he wouldn’t. Logan wouldn’t tell anyone, but he was semipleased that Lucky would think that. Or maybe Lucky knew it and was playing a mind game to get him to talk.

“I’m fine,” Logan assured him.

That wasn’t even close to the truth. He’d had two migraines in six days, and it felt as if another one might be tapping on his shoulder. He wasn’t sleeping well, and when he did, he kept dreaming about what he’d seen in Helene’s office. Part of him wished he’d asked her for an explanation. Any explanation. But then again, what was she going to say? Nothing that would have helped Logan understand, that’s for sure.

“By the way, I’ve never told you this, but before we walked in on Helene, I didn’t know what she was up to,” Logan said to Lucky. “I had no idea she could, or would, cheat on me.”

“Yeah, I figured that out. I read somewhere that repressed people do all sorts of weird sexual things.”

Logan waved off anything else Lucky might have added because two women were walking toward them. Misty Reagan and Sandra Morrelli. He definitely didn’t want them to hear anything he had to say about Helene so Logan put on his best smile, tipped his hat in greeting and then proceeded to talk to Lucky about those cows he’d just bought. Lucky cooperated, of course, but the conversation must have looked intense enough for the ladies not to issue more than smiles and greetings of their own.

Two bullets dodged.

“What’d you want to talk to me about?” Logan asked.

When Lucky hesitated, Logan thought he knew where this was going. “You want to make things official with Cassie and ask her to marry you, and you’re hoping I’m okay with it. I am. You two should be together.”

“Thanks for that.”

It wasn’t a grand gesture. Logan had never believed in the misery-loves-company notion. Besides, he was getting daily calls from Stella about how she didn’t think it was a good idea for Cassie and Lucky to be living in sin, that it wasn’t setting a good example for Mia and Mackenzie.

“When will you pop the question?” Logan asked.

“As soon as I get the ring.”

Logan thought of the one in his drawer, the one that no one in his family had seen, and he considered offering it to Lucky. But then maybe it was jinxed or something.

Hell, maybe he was jinxed.

“Along with marrying Cassie,” Lucky continued, “we’ve started paperwork to adopt the girls. Surprised?”

“Not in the least.” But just three months ago, he would have been. However, Logan had no doubts now. None. Because his brother was in love, and Logan was completely happy for him.

They were still a few yards away from the Fork and Spoon when Logan got a whiff of the burger that brought in lunchtime diners. Today was no different. Because of the glass front on the café, it was easy to see that the place was packed.

Crap.

He nearly turned around, but Lucky took hold of his arm and maneuvered him inside. The chatter stopped immediately, and the place went silent as a tomb. He should have just ordered takeout and had Greg pick it up.

“They need to see you out and about,” Lucky whispered to him. “And it won’t be long before they’ll have something else to gossip about.”

Logan wasn’t betting on that. Despite three months passing, Helene was still the most tongue-wagging topic with Logan coming in a close second. The speculation about what he’d seen in Helene’s office had probably reached levels of absurdity times ten.

“Hey, maybe I can start a rumor that I knocked up Cassie?” Lucky suggested.

Logan appreciated that, but he thought the offer might have something to do with Sissy Lee Culpepper, who was sauntering over to them. The busty blonde in the skintight Pepto Bismol–pink uniform eyed Lucky. Then she eyed his crotch. She then did the same to Logan and smiled, maybe because she remembered he was the lone McCord male left on the market.

“The only thing open is the counter,” she said, “but I can shoo away someone from a booth if you like.”

“The counter’s fine,” Logan insisted. “Could you get us two burger plates and make it fast? We’re in a hurry.”

“I want a root beer float with mine,” Lucky added.

“Sure thing, sweetie.”

Sissy Lee called everyone sweetie, honey or darling so it wasn’t exactly a term of endearment. More like a ploy to get a bigger tip.

“And for what it’s worth,” Sissy Lee said, “I think Helene is lower than hoof grit.”

That got some mumbled agreements from the other diners. Logan hoped that the conversation would end if he gave a noncommittal nod.

It didn’t.

“I got a name for a woman like that,” Sissy Lee added in a whisper. “Hick-dead.”

Logan wasn’t sure if she was attempting pig Latin and was really calling Helene a dickhead. And he wasn’t interested in trying to figure it out. He gave Sissy Lee another noncommittal nod. But it was Lucky’s wink and smile that got the waitress moving. She added a wink of her own, and using her best femme fatale hip swish, she walked away.

Logan took the stool at the far end of the counter. Not ideal since the grill was just on the other side of a partial wall, and the smoke from the sizzling burgers came right at them.

“Other than a knocking-up rumor,” Lucky continued, “you could give them something new to talk about by going on a date.”

Logan gave him a blank stare. “There are no eligible women in town that you haven’t slept with already. I don’t need that kind of gossip. Or that kind of woman.”

Lucky shrugged, made a sound as if that were possibly true. “There are always those dating sites.”

He’d rather personally shovel every bit of bullshit from the pasture, one cow patty at a time. “No thanks.”

“Then what about—”

“No. Thanks,” Logan said a little louder than he intended.

It got people’s attention. Not that their attention had strayed too far from him, anyway. He could practically feel the sympathy pouring over him.

“Suit yourself, but I was going to say you should ask her out.” Lucky tipped his head to the fry cook. “She’s new in town, and I haven’t slept with her.”

Logan looked up, at the veil of greasy-scented gray smoke that was between them and the cook. And his stomach dropped to his kneecaps.

Maybe Lucky hadn’t slept with her, but Logan sure had.

Julia Child was in the process of flipping a burger.

CHAPTER FOUR

OH, GOD. THERE wasn’t just one cowboy but two. And they didn’t just look alike. They were identical.

Now what?

Reese tried not to react, tried not to give in to the gasp that was inching its way from her throat toward her mouth. But mercy, this was gasp-worthy.

She’d come to Spring Hill hoping to find the hot cowboy she had slept with and get her grandfather’s watch back. And she’d wanted to do it without attracting any attention to herself—or to him. Especially since he might be engaged or even married by now. She definitely hadn’t wanted to intrude on his life, not after that promise she’d given him.

What happens in San Antonio stays in San Antonio. I’ll take this to the grave.

Reese had made that promise when she thought the grave was imminent, and she’d wanted to finish that idiotic bucket list. Well, she had finished it, but now she was in the process of undoing it.

But how did she undo this without admitting that she didn’t even know which one she’d bedded? And here she had thought this might be the easiest thing left on her undoing quest.

She had finally lost the weight that she’d put on from her carb and sugar binges and had gotten her money back from the canceled cremation. She’d gone through with the charity donations, though, because it hadn’t seemed fair to screw them over just because Myrtle the tumor had turned out to be all just a computer glitch.

That left the cowboy and the watch.

“Uh, you’re sorta burning those burgers, sweetie,” Sissy Lee said, giving Reese a nudge with her elbow.

Reese forced herself out of her panicking trance and looked down at what had been two one-third of a pound patties of prime Angus beef. They now resembled squashed cow dung.

“Sorry,” Reese mumbled, and she pushed those aside, scraped down the grill and added two fresh burgers.

She didn’t know the owner, Bert Starkley, that well, but it was possible he’d take them out of her pay. That was minor now compared to the fact that everyone in the café was looking at her and the stenchy smoke she’d created.

“No worries,” Sissy Lee assured her. The woman got busy making an ice cream float. “Bert’ll just give them to his dogs. But you should make the next ones medium rare since that’s how Logan and Lucky like ’em.”

Logan and Lucky.

So, those were their names, and since it was obvious that Sissy Lee knew them, Reese would be able to pump her for information.

The only other thing Reese knew was what she’d learned from the hotel clerk after she’d hurried back there to find the cowboy. The clerk couldn’t give her the cowboy’s name, but he’d said that he saw him driving a truck with a business sign on the side, and the only thing he could remember about the sign was that it had Spring “something or other,” Texas, on it.

There were a lot of Spring “something or others” in Texas, Reese had learned, and that’s why it had taken her all this time to track him down. Her search had left her a little low on money so she’d stayed around and started the job at the café.

While keeping a close eye on the burgers, Reese risked glancing up at the pair. The one at the far end of the counter glanced at her at the same time. Or maybe he, too, was just looking at the smoke because he gave no indication whatsoever that he knew her. It was possible he couldn’t even see her, though. Added to that, her hair was back to its natural color now—dark brown. And the final factor affecting this? He could have been too drunk to remember much of anything.

“Lucky and Logan?” Reese said to Sissy Lee. “Twins, obviously.”

Sissy Lee chuckled. Not just any ordinary chuckle. “Yeah, all the women in Spring Hill have fantasies about a threesome with those two.”

Reese didn’t know about a threesome, but her twosome had been pretty amazing.

“You know them well?” Reese asked, fishing while frying. She added some sliced onion to the grill, swirled it around in the grease runoff from the burger—an artery-clogging topping that Bert had told her his customers loved.

“Of course. Everybody does. They’re the McCords. And they’ve got a brother, Riley. He’s taken, though. Actually, Lucky, the one on the left, is maybe taken, too. Everybody in town figures he’ll be popping the question to his girlfriend soon.”

“Oh?” Reese had hoped her noncommittal response would keep Sissy Lee talking, but when it didn’t work, Reese had to come out and ask. “What about Logan? Is he involved with anyone?”

“Was,” Sissy Lee said, lowering her voice and speaking behind her hand. “I’ll tell you all about it later,” she added just as another customer came in.

“Carry those burgers out to Lucky and Logan when you’re done, will you?” Sissy Lee scooped up some fresh fries and put them on the sides of the plates. “I’ll give Lucky his float and take care of Daniel.”

Judging from the dreamy way Sissy Lee said Daniel’s name, he was a juicy catch. But then Sissy Lee seemed to feel that way about every single guy who came into the café.

Reese finished the burgers, drowning them in the fried onions and thick slabs of American cheese—again as Bert had instructed. Her waitressing skills were a little rusty, but she balanced the plates, along with two glasses of ice water, and made her way to the counter. She set down the food and drinks, thinking it might be a good idea to make a quick exit and watch the McCords from the kitchen.

That didn’t happen.

“You’re new here,” the one on the left said. He flashed her a smile that could have melted heavy-duty aluminum foil. He still didn’t show any signs of recognition. “I’m Lucky McCord.” He hitched his thumb to his brother. “This is Logan.”

No melting smile from him. No sign of recognition, either. She should have asked Sissy Lee if the third brother was their triplet.

“And you are?” Lucky asked.

“Reese Stephens,” she said.

Still no signs that they knew who she was, but then she’d used an alias for the hotel. Julia Child. She looked to see if either of them had caught onto the lame joke of her using a superchef’s name when she was nothing but a glorified fry cook. But nada.

Logan checked his watch. “I just remembered a meeting I have in Bulverde,” he said, standing.

Lucky had just taken a big sip of the float, and he had to swallow first before he could respond. “What meeting?”

“With that seller. Could you please box this up?” he asked Reese after sparing her a glance. “I’ll have my assistant come by and pick it up later.” Logan dropped two twenties on the counter and walked out. Not in a hurry exactly but not a man who was dawdling, either.

“It’s not you,” Lucky said, watching his brother leave. “Logan’s had it rough lately. I’m sure you’ve heard.” His gaze drifted to Sissy Lee, who had practically put herself body to body with Daniel.

“I only arrived in town yesterday,” Reese said. “I haven’t had a chance to hear any gossip.”

“Trust me, that’s plenty of time. Six seconds is enough time.” He paused, tilted his head to the side and looked at her. “Say, do I know you from somewhere?”

Reese pretended to study him, too, though she knew every detail because she’d studied the selfie on her phone. Often. Dark brown hair, cool blue eyes, a face not too chiseled. But it was also a face that was a lot more relaxed than the one on her phone.

“I think I saw you driving around town,” she finally said. “Were you in a truck with some kind of sign on the side?”

He nodded, tackled a couple of his fries after he dragged them through some ketchup. “McCord Cattle Brokers, the family business.”

Reese needed a bit more than that. “And it had Spring Hill, Texas, on the sign?”

Another nod just as he took a bite of the burger.

So, it was Lucky she’d slept with, and since Sissy Lee had already said he would likely get engaged soon, then Reese needed to figure out how to get the watch without messing things up for him. She definitely wouldn’t ask about it here. There were at least six customers seemingly hanging on their every word.

“The trucks were Logan’s idea,” Lucky added a moment later. “Good advertising, he said. That’s why we all drive one. Even our housekeepers do.”

All? Well, heck. That put her back to square one.

“Man, this burger’s good. I think you’re the best cook Bert’s ever hired.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

Since it was obvious he was interested in eating his lunch and because she didn’t want to pique his attention, Reese took Logan’s plate back to the kitchen to box it. She’d barely gotten started, though, when Sissy Lee put in another hamburger order.

“Daniel likes his burger still mooing,” Sissy Lee added.

Sissy Lee took over the boxing duties while Reese got started. “I didn’t figure Logan would stay too long.” She shook her head. “It’s the first time he’s come over for lunch since Helene, that hick-dead girlfriend of his, messed him up.”

As gossip went, that was fairly lacking. “How’d she mess him up?”

“Well, that’s just it. We’re not really sure. The only person who got a glimpse of it was Walter Meekins, the taxi driver. Logan had called him to drive Riley, Claire, Lucky and Cassie back home after Logan proposed to his girlfriend.”

Reese didn’t have a clue who Claire and Cassie were, but she didn’t want to interrupt Sissy Lee. It wouldn’t take that long to cook a rare burger, and then Sissy Lee would go back out to flirt with the customers.

“Anyway, Walter didn’t see exactly what happened when Logan and the others went into Helene’s office,” Sissy Lee explained, “but he said he saw this clown running out the back.”

“A clown. You mean like something in a circus? Or a horror novel?” Because Reese wasn’t sure if Sissy Lee meant that word in a general sense.

“Circus or rodeo kind of clown,” Sissy Lee verified. “Walter said when Logan came out he looked like he’d seen a ghost. He’s never been the same since.”