Million Dollar Cowboy (Cupid, Texas #5)(8)

Duke Lockhart did not apologize. Ever. In all honesty, neither did Ridge.

Ten years had passed since they'd seen each other. They were standing four feet apart, the smell of hay and horse manure in the air. Staring at each other as if they were strangers.

Weren't they? Truly, had he ever really known the man?

"You made it," Duke said mildly.

"Archer's my best friend."

"Whom you rarely see."

"We talk." Which was more than Ridge and his father did. "And text."

"Well there's that." Sarcasm pulled his voice down into a yeasty dark brew of contempt. Ah, there it was. Duke's real feelings.

Showdown at the Silver Feather Corral, and Ridge wouldn't have been half surprised to see pearl-handled pistols sticking from Duke's waistband.

Neither of them blinked.

A column of silence marched between them, tension stretching long and flammable. Picking up on the tension, Majestic tossed his head.

"You look good," Duke said finally, his tone softening, but his eyes stayed flinty, unrelenting.

"Wish I could say the same for you."

"You always were a little bastard," Duke said, but there was affection in the word and the tension thawed. Not much, but a little.

"Where you going?" Ridge nodded at the saddle in his father's hand. Duke's forearms bunched and corded from the weight of it. He was still strong as an ox.

"Chapel. To turn on air conditioning before the rest of them get up there and start squawking about the heat. Casey's folks are city sissies."

"Vivi doesn't much like the heat either, if memory serves."

At the mention of Vivi's name, his father's pupils dilated and the pitch of his tone lifted. "She is a rare flower, our Vivi."

Our Vivi. Jab. Stab. Take that Oedipus. Daddy's still in charge.

Ridge raised his palms. Not a gesture of surrender, more like not-my-circus-not-my-monkeys-don't-drag-me-into-it. "Hey man, she's all yours. You claimed her. You're stuck with her." 

Duke settled the saddle on Majestic's back and the stallion gave a kick just to let them know he stayed spicy.

"Why are you taking Majestic?" Ridge nudged his Stetson back on his head.

"He doesn't get ridden enough."

"You're taking that horse around a bunch of people he doesn't know?" Ridge pressed his mouth flat in a you're-a-dumbass expression. "Playing with fire."

"You haven't seen the horse in ten years and you're making judgments? Telling me about my own horse."

"I know Majestic. He was my horse."

"Until you ran off and left him. He's aged." Duke jutted out his chin.

"Has he?" Ridge hitched his thumbs through his belt loops. They were no longer talking about the stallion.

"If you came home once in a while you'd know things." Duke's bushy eyebrows pulled into a glower.

"Some things aren't worth bothering about."

"Meaning me?"

"Take it any way you like, old man."

Duke shifted his weight, rocking onto the balls of his feet, sinking his hands on his hips, spreading out, making himself look bigger, fiercer.

Ridge knew the ploy. Expand your body; expand your territory. Taking control. Taking over. Man-spreading.

But Duke was already in control here. It was his home. His place. No need to expand. Unless . . .

Was his father feeling insecure?

Ridge smiled big as Dallas. Had his arrival thrown Duke? Hmm. He liked that idea. Liked it a lot.

Their gazes locked, and Ridge did not have a key. They stared at each other until all he could see was Duke's chocolate eyes and he supposed that all Duke could see of him where his navy blues.

Yeah, okay, he'd admit it. He'd gotten his stubborn streak from the old coot.

Another five seconds of staring each other down and they would have gone to fisticuffs. He could feel it in the air, his own body, in the way Duke sank his feet solidly into the ground. Bracing.

They'd been here before. Just like this. More than once. He didn't want to fight an AARP member, but he wasn't afraid to defend himself if Duke made the first move. The old man had a right hook like a bulldozer, the kind that could knock a son out with one clean snap.

It would be like old times. Ridge felt his fists bunch, and his body loosened with readiness. If that's where this was going, so be it.

Majestic snorted and tossed his head, ready for action. That broke the stare down. Duke was the first to drop his gaze, and he mumbled, "We're going to use it."

Huh? Ridge blinked, confused. "Use what?"

"At the mine. The Lock Ridge drilling method."

Knock him down with a feather duster.

"Everyone in silver mining will be using it," Ridge said without a trace of ego. It was a fact. If you mined silver and you weren't using the Lock Ridge technique, you were squatting behind a giant financial eight ball with spurs on. Only a dumbass would ignore that, and Duke was anything but dumb.