Cadde kept cutting. “Why didn’t you answer?”
“I was busy, okay?”
“And you just assumed I’d be at the apartment.”
“Hell, no. I came into the office and saw a light down here.”
Cadde continued to slice the cantaloupe.
“What are you doing?” Kid asked.
“Cutting up fruit.”
“You’re supposed to peel it first.”
He knew there had to be an easier way, but he wouldn’t admit that to Kid. “So? This is how I do it.”
Kid frowned. “Why did you call?”
“To pick up breakfast.”
Kid snorted. “I’m not peeling fruit for you, and why in the hell are you eating a cantaloupe?”
“It’s not for me. It’s for Jessie. She’s asleep down the hall so keep your voice down.”
“What?”
Cadde told him about the Dobermans. Just as he finished, Chance breezed in.
“I saw a light down here. What’s going on?” His eyes went to the mess on the counter. “You’re supposed to peel it first. Momma did it that way unless we were taking it outside to eat and then she’d leave the rind on.”
He thought how great it was that his brothers were happy to impart their knowledge.
Pointing the knife at them, he said, “Go to work.”
“Jessie’s here,” Kid whispered, and then told Chance about the Dobermans.
“Is she okay?” Chance asked, his sensitive antenna up and working. Chance got all the sensitivity in their family. Most of Kid’s was below his belt.
“She’s fine. Go to work.”
Kid snatched a piece of cantaloupe. “I’m going to Louisiana for a few days to check at the courthouse to see who really has the mineral rights on several of those properties.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“I’m gone.” Kid strolled toward the door.
Chance reached for a slice. “I have the numbers on leasing a rig when you’re ready.”
“I’ll be in my office later.”
“Later, then.” Chance followed Kid.
Cadde carefully arranged the fruit on a plate and set it on the wood table. He placed the yogurt beside it. Pouring a cup of coffee, he leaned against the counter, sipping it. His life had been turned upside down for the past two days. He needed to be in his office. He had a company to run.
“Cadde, where are my clothes?”
Suddenly, he forgot about work and strolled down the hall. Jessie held her jeans in her hands, her hair falling around her face. He felt a familiar kick in his lower abdomen. Work. Work. He had to keep work on his mind and not the half-naked woman in front of him.
“Don’t you remember?”
“Oh.” Her eyes held a faraway look and he knew she was remembering the awful evening. She sank onto the tumbled bed. “I have to see Mirry and go to Rachel’s House this afternoon.”
“Who’s Rachel?”
She glanced up. “It’s a shelter for abused women.”
“Abused animals. Abused women. Who are you?”
“What?”
“This is not the daughter Roscoe portrayed to me.”
Those dark eyes pinned him to the wall, like a target. “How did Daddy portray me?”
“I got the impression you were very vulnerable, a woman who needed protecting—a woman who sat in that big house reading fashion magazines and eating decadent chocolates or something.”
She flipped back her hair. “Is that how Daddy described me? Or is it how you see me?”
He held up his hands. “Let’s not argue. I’m just taken aback that you have a life that your father never mentioned.”
“Daddy tended to see me one way—as his helpless little girl. He tolerated my ‘fun activities’ as he called them.”
He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. “What do you do at the shelter?”
“Counseling, but mostly I listen. These women have been browbeaten by their husbands into thinking they’re worthless and deserve to be beaten.”
“And you need to see someone this afternoon?”
“Yes.” She stood. “And I need clothes.”
He glanced at his watch. “Rosa’s bringing you some at eight. If you call, you might catch her before she leaves.” He nodded toward the phone on the nightstand.
She twisted the jeans she still held in her hands. “Thank you for what you did yesterday. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t arrived.”
“Felix would have handled it.”
“I’m not sure. He wasn’t as calm as you were. He was really worried about me.”
“Don’t you think I was?”