The Trouble with Texas Cowboys(11)

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After the last amen had been said, the Brennan family surrounded Jill, throwing out so many names that they all mixed together. No way would she remember any of them, except Kinsey, with the extra makeup on one cheek, and Quaid with a black eye and a cut across his nose. It was amazing that corn could do that to a big, strong man when it fell from a distance of six feet.

She spotted Sawyer’s black truck pulling out of the parking lot as she and Quaid made their way to his big white double-cab vehicle with an extra-long bed. She was in the process of snapping her seat belt when a bright red truck skidded to a stop right in front of her eyes. Tyrell blew her a kiss, held up five fingers, and then sped off toward the only paved road in Burnt Boot. She hadn’t seen a single sign to point her toward anything but a one-Sunday-stand for both of the feuding families.

“Hungry?” Quaid’s felt hat preceded him into the truck and found its place in the backseat. He strapped the seat belt in place and started up the engine.

“Starving,” she said.

“It’s a potluck, so there will be plenty.”

“You should have told me. I would have brought something. Your family will think I’m horrible, showing up empty-handed,” she said.

“My family will think that you are adorable. And guests aren’t expected to bring food. A heads-up though. Kinsey’s potato salad is fantastic, but Granny’s beet salad tastes like shit.” He laughed.

His laughter was as deep as his voice and downright sexy. His jeans were creased perfectly, his white shirt spotless, and his leather sports jacket fit his wide shoulders like a glove. Three years ago she would have stumbled over her own two feet to get him to ask her out.

Sawyer had told her to forget about the feud, the size of the ranches and bank accounts, and to focus on the man. There was not one thing wrong with Quaid so far. If he kissed as good as he looked, he’d be quite the catch, but there wasn’t a bit of zing, not a single spark or bit of fizzle between them.

“Penny for your thoughts.” He pulled out onto the road and turned right.

“Hundred dollar bills couldn’t buy them.” She smiled. “How far is it to River Bend?”

“River Bend is to your right, but it’s about three miles to the lane back to the main house. River Bend is a conglomerate of several ranches. We’ve already passed the road back to my land. Anytime you want a tour, I’ll be glad to give you one. I’ve got about a thousand acres.”

“How does that work?”

“The land from Fiddle Creek west for more than twenty miles belongs to the Gallagher families, and the whole thing makes up River Bend. Granny still lives in the main house with her youngest son, my uncle, and his family. That’s where we’re going for dinner today. Kinsey is my sister and has a part-time job as a paralegal in Gainesville, but she helps me out on my ranch too. I hate paperwork, so she takes care of that, and she’s good at it,” Quaid explained.

“And the whole family is going to be there today?” she asked.

“Everyone that took up our side of the church.” He smiled. “Just lookin’ over at you makes my heart jump around in my chest. You are gorgeous this morning, Jill. Your sweater is the same color as your mesmerizing eyes.”

It might not be the best pickup line she’d ever heard, but it wasn’t too bad, and he did seem sincere.

“And here we are.” He pulled the truck under a covered circular drive, handed the keys off to a short fellow in a heavy coat and a cowboy hat, and hurried around the front of the truck to open the door for her. The guy didn’t look like a butler or a valet, but evidently he was serving as both, because he opened the double front doors for them when they crossed the wide veranda.

“I’ll put it close by, Mr. Quaid,” he said before he trotted back to the truck. A glance over her shoulder showed that the pasture beside the house was filled with vehicles of one kind or other, with the majority going toward trucks.

Quaid ushered her inside with a hand on her lower back, helped her remove her coat before he took his off, and handed both to an older woman who said, “Welcome to River Bend, Miz Jill. We’re glad to have you here. I’m Rita, one of the housekeepers.”

Double doors were opened into a massive room to the right where people had already gathered. The aroma of food mingled with scented candles in the middle of at least a dozen round tables with snowy white cloths. A potluck, her ass, this was a full-fledged party, even if there was every kind of food imaginable lined up on tables over there against the wall.

A tall woman with black hair and eyes almost that dark crossed the room and held out her hand to Jill. “I’m Mavis Brennan. Welcome to our little place. You should have brought Gladys with you. She and I go way back.”

“Thank you. Aunt Gladys is going back to the hospital to stay with Aunt Polly. I’ll tell her that you asked about her,” Jill said. “You have a lovely home. Everything looks and smells wonderful.”

Mavis nodded. “I love it when I can gather them all home, even if it’s only for dinner. Declan, darlin’, come meet Jill. This is Declan, my grandson. He and Leah live here with me. And please give my best to Polly. We’ll be praying that she gets along all right with this ankle. At our age, we don’t heal like you young folks do.”

Declan nodded and said something about being pleased to meet her, and then he was gone.

Quaid’s arm slipped possessively around Jill’s shoulders. “I think it’s almost time to eat. We have a place at the head table with Granny.”

“Yes, you do. I want you to sit right beside me. You tell Polly to do what they say, because if you ever sit down at our age, you wind up moldin’ and dyin’. We’ll hope to see you often here at River Bend.” Mavis smiled. “I hear you are working at the bar and the store while she’s out of commission. I’m sure you’ll see lots of Quaid at Polly’s. My husband’s old granddaddy would have had a fit if he’d known one of his kin was in a bar, but times are changing.”

Quaid tapped a water glass with a knife, and the whole room went silent. “Granny, will you say grace?”

“I’m going to ask Declan to do that for us today,” she said.

Declan bowed his head, but Jill caught the look on his face and the way he rolled his eyes before he closed them. So the Brennan family had a black sheep, and its name was Declan.

With his hand on her lower back, Quaid steered her toward the table with Mavis and half a dozen other family members. Seated between Quaid and Mavis, she felt like a heifer at the county fair. All eyes were on her, and she was expected to perform well so she’d win the big trophy and a bunch of blue ribbons.

“Jill, this is my uncle Russell. He’s Leah and Declan’s father, and they live here in the big house with Granny,” Quaid said.

Jill smiled and nodded at them. “Pleased to meet you all.”

Like Sawyer told her, she assigned animals to each face. She couldn’t think of a single animal that Mavis would resemble, with her height, her round face and thick neck, blue eyes, and black hair right out of a beauty shop bottle. She didn’t need to, because Mavis wore confidence as well as she did that tailor-made royal-blue suit and that sparkly set of wedding rings that would rival the crown jewels. She’d never forget her name.

A tall, lanky kid that hadn’t grown into his height made his way from the back of the room to their table and whispered in Mavis’s ear. She turned scarlet and slapped the table with such force that the water glasses shook.

“She’s gone too damned far,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Grandma?” Quaid said softly.

“My hogs are gone. They vanished in the damned air while we were in church this morning. Every single one of them.” Every word got louder, until she was yelling at the end and the whole room went silent.

“Maybe they got out and they’re runnin’ around on the ranch,” Quaid said.

The kid shook his head. “Daddy said to tell Miz Mavis that we checked the whole place. There isn’t a single gate open or break in the fence. There’s not even any hog footprints around the place showin’ where they got out. All we got is cattle prints. It’s like they grew wings and flew.”

Mavis was on her feet. “Russell?”

He was already pushing back his chair when he said, “You going with me, Mama?”

“Yes, I am. You will all excuse us. Please finish your food and enjoy the afternoon.” Mavis didn’t even try to lower her voice as she and Russell stormed out of the room. “That damned Naomi Gallagher will pay for this. She did it while we were all in church and the ranch was unprotected. Dammit all to hell! Well, as of right now, we’ll be standin’ guard, and she’d better watch out, because I’m not takin’ this layin’ down.”

“Is she going to be all right?” Jill asked.

“She will be,” Quaid said. “The Gallaghers shouldn’t have messed with her pigs. She doesn’t trust anyone to take care of them but Adam and his daddy. They know pigs better than anyone in these parts, except for those folks who live down in Salt Holler. Granny hates store-bought meat with a passion.”