Fortune's Homecoming Page 15

  Deborah smiled, though he could see the concern behind it. “Of course. Billie and I have talked many times since we first met.”

  “She’s Vargas’s cousin,” he said abruptly.

  Deborah’s eyebrows rose a little, but she didn’t seem to be anywhere near as annoyed about it as he was. “I’ve always thought it was a small world. Grayson didn’t mention that you’d be here. Is everything coming along with the ranch contract?”

  Billie tucked her hair behind her ear. She didn’t look at him. “Yes, it’s progressing just fine.”

  “Good to hear.” His mom gave Grayson a searching look. “Do you want me to start loading up Vix and Van?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll get to it in a few.”

  “Well, I’ll leave the two of you to it, then.” Deborah started walking away.

  “I’m not staying,” Billie said quickly. She started edging back.

  He blocked her path. “You’re damn sure not going,” he said in a low voice. “Not without explaining yourself.”

  “Explaining myself?” Her gaze darted to his. “What about you and Bethany?”

  “I told you we were old friends.” He grabbed her arm. “Wait. You think her baby is mine. Because your cousin Max spewed a load of BS about it.”

  Billie’s chin came up. “You deny giving her money?”

  “No, and that doesn’t mean a damn thing. Neither does my giving her a job at Grayson Gear. She’s not pregnant with my kid. If she were, I’d be the first one to tell you. Not Max.” He spread his arms. “You know what? You’re right. There is no reason for you to stay. From the start, I’ve been an open book with you. Instead of just telling me the truth about your cousin, though, you’d rather believe whatever line he’s feeding you. You want to think the worst of me, you go right on ahead, darlin’. Frankly, I’m too old for that crap.”

  Even in the thin light, he could see the sheen in her eyes and steeled himself against it.

  “Don’t worry, though. Your precious real estate deal is still safe. You’ll earn your sales commission.”

  She winced. “I’m not worried about the commission.”

  “Then why didn’t you just tell me about Max?”

  “Because at first it wasn’t important! You were a brand-new client and that’s all.” She visibly swallowed. “And by the time it was important,” she said in a lower, raw-sounding tone, “I didn’t know how.”

  “What’s so tough? ‘Hey, Gray. Funny coincidence. One of the guys gunning to dethrone you is my cousin.’”

  “Easy for you to say now!” She looked away, folding her arms again.

  “You could’ve trusted me.”

  Her jaw worked. “We hardly knew each other.”

  “Bull.”

  “It hasn’t even been a month since we met!”

  “I don’t care if it’s been a week or a year.” He pointed at her. “You’re the cynic. Expecting the worst when it comes to anything but work. Bethany’s baby isn’t mine,” he said flatly. Clearly. “For the simple reason that I never slept with her. Not even back in the day when I was trying to do exactly that. So next time you talk to your cousin, maybe you can suggest he stop tossing blame around when he oughta be looking in his own backyard.”

  “You think the baby could be his?”

  “I don’t know. At this particular moment in time, I don’t much care. That’s their deal.” Grayson waved his hand between her nose and his chest. “This, though? The fact that your first reaction is to think the worst about me? That’s our deal. Which, as far as I’m concerned, means there is no deal.” He reached around her and grabbed the shoebox. “You might as well take ’em, darlin’. They don’t mean jack to me.” He pushed the box into her hands and turned away.

  “Grayson.” Her voice sounded thick. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

  His steps barely hesitated. “So am I, Billie.” Pushing the words out was a helluva lot harder than it should have been. “So am I.”

  * * *

  “Anything you want to talk about, son?”

  “No.” Ignoring his mother, Grayson kept guiding Van into the trailer, where he’d already loaded up Vix. When he’d walked away from Billie to get the horses, he’d known she wouldn’t be there when he returned more than an hour later.

  And he’d been right.

  Considering her anxiousness to leave, she’d probably turned tail and bolted the second he’d disappeared from view.

  Knowing he’d told her to go didn’t make up any for the sting of knowing she hadn’t cared enough to stick around and fight for them.

  “You sure?” His mother held up a red-soled shoe.

  Even though Billie had left, she still hadn’t taken the damn shoes.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  It was either that or succumb to the urge to punch his fist through the side of the trailer. Which he couldn’t do for several reasons.

  One, he’d end up breaking his hand.

  Two, he’d up having to answer even more questions from his mom.

  He ran his palm over Van, needlessly checking the wraps on the horse’s legs.

  “Grayson.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Ma.”

  “I know those are the shoes you bought for Billie.”

  That’s what he got for having his personal manager write most of the checks to pay his bills. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.” He’d never once had a woman refuse a gift.

  But then he’d never once bought a woman infernal apology shoes, either. Or gotten involved with someone determined to have so little faith in him. Or gotten involved, period.

  He climbed out of the trailer again to where his mother was standing. “Throw the shoes away. Give ’em away. Either way, I don’t care.”

  “Grayson, you don’t mean that.”

  “The hell I don’t.” He closed the trailer doors and secured them. “I want to get on the road. It’s a long haul to Red Rock.” Made even longer by the fact that he was pulling a trailer and two horses that periodically needed a decent break from the ride.

  They took care of him in the arena. It was up to him to take care of them outside of it.

  Deborah tucked the shoe back into the box with its mate. “Maybe I should go with you.”

  “Why?” They’d already made the travel plans. She was flying back to Texas in the morning, with the intention of spending a few days in Paseo before meeting him in Horseback Hollow for the rodeo next weekend.

  “Because you’re obviously upset. Clearly, Billie is special to you.”

  “Might be time for a vision check.” He dropped a kiss on his mom’s forehead just to reassure her. “I’m pissed off, but I’m not gonna drive a fortune in horseflesh and equipment off the road because of it.”

  “But—”

  “Ma, enough.”

  She exhaled noisily. “It’s not a sin to admit you’re hurt, Grayson. I’m not so old that I don’t remember how it feels.”

  “You’ll never be old.” He started walking around the trailer, automatically checking every latch.

  Deborah’s voice followed him. “If you think that’s flattering enough to distract me, you’re wrong.”

  He ignored that. She was standing right where she’d been when he made it around the trailer. “You going to be okay getting from the hotel to the airport in the morning?”

  She made a face. “Strangely enough, I think I will be.” She was having a late dinner with a group of rodeo sponsors, and she had her own rental car. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about what’s going on between you and Billie.”

  “Nothing’s going on. Not anymore.” His lips twisted. “If it ever had a chance, her habit of thinking the worst took care of it.” He shot his mom a look. “And I am not talking about it.”

  “I don’t know whose stubbornness you inherited more of. Mine or your—”

  He raised his palm. “Don’t even say it.”

  “Well, unsaid or not, it’s stil
l true. If either one of us had been less stubborn, who knows what might have happened.”

  God help him. At least with hours on the road ahead of him, he wouldn’t have to listen to anyone or anything but his own thoughts.

  And those he could drown out thanks to the miracle that was satellite radio.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You’re dating Grayson?”

  “Can I meet him?”

  “Why haven’t you been returning my calls?”

  Billie had barely arrived at her parents’ annual Fourth of July barbecue when the questions started accosting her.

  “Happy Fourth,” she said in return as she placed the tray of brownies she’d brought onto the table set up in the grass near the back door.

  “Belinda Marie!”

  She ignored her mother for the moment and bypassed the inflatable kiddie pool filled with teenagers as well as kiddies, then weaved around the others sprawled in lawn chairs near the television that had been dragged outside, and finally made it to her father, where he was tending the meat sizzling on the grill. She kissed him on the cheek. “Hi, Daddy. What you got cooking there?”

  He waved his long-handled tongs. “Usual ribs and chicken. How’s work?”

  She thought about the check that she’d received the day before. The check that was still sitting in her purse.

  The sale on the Harmon ranch had gone through in record time. And the payment was her share of the commission.

  “Closed on a property just yesterday.”

  “Get enough commission to pay your rent?” He winked through the barbecue smoke swirling around him.

  “A few months.” It was a wild understatement. Hands down, it was her largest commission yet. But she’d never been less excited about a sale closing since she’d first gotten her real estate license. Even the new, larger office that Mr. Allen had assigned to her hadn’t generated any feeling of accomplishment.

  “Good for you, baby. Run and get me another beer, would you?”

  “Sure.” She headed for the insulated cooler that was sitting in the shade of a tree, where her eldest brother was stretched out on a lounger. As she bent over the cooler, she could see the television screen several feet away. From experience, she knew the channel wouldn’t stay the same for long. Between the Cowboy Country rodeo, baseball and NASCAR, there were a lot of things they’d be watching.

  She looked the other way and plunged her hand into the ice and water filling the cooler. She had no intention of even inadvertently catching any of the rodeo.

  “Hey, peanut.” Her brother barely moved the cowboy hat covering half his face. “What’s the deal with the rodeo king?”

  “Not you, too, Ray.”

  He lifted his hat far enough that he could give her a stern look. “I’m not sure I like the idea of you sleeping with that guy. He’s got quite a reputation.”

  “According to who? Max?” She pointed her finger at her brother. “First, I’m not sleeping with him, but even if I were, it’s none of your business.”

  “You’re my baby sister. That makes it my business.”

  She gave him a look. “Interesting, when you’ve never seemed to care in the least who I might have been sleeping with before now.”

  He looked pained. “My ears! You’re too young to be sleeping with anyone. Especially a walkaway Joe like Grayson. He’s a rodeo rider, peanut. And to hear Max tell it—”

  She raised her hand. “Max is misinformed.” She would regret to her dying day assuming Max was correct about Bethany’s pregnancy, even though it didn’t change anything. “Grayson’s also a business owner and a philanthropist, in case you’re interested in the facts. None of which matters because I’m not involved with him!”

  Her voice rang out in the sudden silence that just naturally had to fall right then.

  She looked at the expectant faces around her.

  She focused first on Selena. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But I don’t think I’ll be able to introduce you to Grayson. My business with him is done.” And after the things they’d said in Reno, she had no expectation of seeing him again now that the real estate deal was concluded.

  She hadn’t even been present at the closing, as was her usual practice. Instead, the final paperwork had been handled two days ago, entirely in Horseback Hollow, where he was staying for the three-day rodeo.

  Selena looked disappointed. “I tried to get Mom and Dad to go to Cowboy Country for the rodeo finals today, but they didn’t want to drive that far for just a day ’cause it’s too expensive. And I couldn’t just go with Aunt Mae and Uncle Larry, ’cause I’d a’ had to miss school. Otherwise Max could have introduced us.” She waved at the television. “We’re stuck watching it on TV.”

  Billie smiled sadly. “I don’t think an introduction would have happened, even if you had found some way to be at the rodeo. Max and Grayson don’t exactly get along.”

  “Why not?”

  She exhaled. How much could she explain to a thirteen-year-old?

  “’Cause Max wants to be better than Grayson,” Peggy said tartly as she joined them. She plucked the forgotten beer out of Billie’s hand and stuck it back in the cooler, pulling out a bottled water instead. “Take that to your uncle Hal,” she said, handing the water to Selena. Then she wrapped her no-nonsense hand around Billie’s arm.

  “I don’t appreciate you ignoring my phone calls.” Her mom pulled her toward the house.

  “I wasn’t ignoring them.” It was an outright lie. “I’ve just been busy with work.”

  “Pfft,” Peggy said dismissively. She hauled Billie into the oppressively hot kitchen and crossed her arms. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Belinda Marie.”

  Exasperated and miserable, Billie threw out her arms. “What do you want me to say, Mom? Grayson was a client.”

  “That’s all? That’s not what the news people have been saying.”

  She opened her mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come.

  She swallowed and looked away. “Nothing they’re saying in the so-called news is accurate except that Grayson was buying a ranch. It doesn’t matter now, though. He thinks I don’t trust him because I didn’t tell him about Max, and Max hates me because I didn’t tell him about Grayson.”

  “Because of that Bethany Belmont business?” Peggy’s lips compressed. “Mae told me everything.”

  “From her son’s viewpoint, I’m sure,” Billie muttered.

  “Max is always quick to overreact.”

  “He’s really hurt this time. He cares more about her than we thought.”

  “And are you hurt?”

  “That Max is mad at me?”

  Her mom gave her a look. “Over Grayson.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Mom. Grayson just wanted me to go on the road with him.”

  Peggy’s eyes widened. “He proposed?”

  Was her mother listening at all? “Propositioned, more like.” She didn’t want to think how close she’d been to joining him in Red Rock. Because from there, how easy would it have been to agree to all the rest? “But don’t worry.” Her throat felt tight. “I know better than to become a Grayson Groupie.”

  Peggy didn’t look convinced. “I think you’re still crazy for him. Same way you were when you were Selena’s age.”

  She’d been sixteen, not thirteen, but she knew there was little point in correcting that particular detail.

  “Grayson was only a client.” Maybe if she said the words often enough, she would start to believe it. “And now he’s not. There’s nothing more to say about it.” She reached for the door once more, only to have it fly open before she could touch it.

  Selena grabbed her arm. “Come on. You gotta see.”

  “The only thing I’ve gotta do is get something to drink,” she countered.

  But her young cousin held on. “No, you gotta come.” She was aiming toward the inflatable pool where Ray’s oldest, Meredith, was floating on her
back in the two feet of water.

  “Hi, Aunt Billie.” Meredith kicked her legs, splashing water over the side of the pool as well as Billie’s T-shirt. “Oh, sorry.”

  Billie managed a smile. There would come a day when she wasn’t reminded of Grayson everywhere she turned, but it certainly wasn’t going to be that day.

  Selena kept pulling her past the pool to the folding chairs surrounding the television propped on its usual sawed-off tree stump. It was the same stump that had supported a TV even when Billie was Selena’s age.

  “Watch.” Selena pushed her toward one of the empty chairs. “They’ll show it again, for sure.”

  Billie resisted. She really, really didn’t want to see any of the rodeo. And that could be the only reason her cousin was so insistent. “When did you get taller than me? I’m sure you weren’t as tall as me at your birthday party.”

  “Peanut.” Ray had joined the others around the television and he put his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe you should watch.”

  Billie’s mouth felt dry. But the only thing she saw when Selena crouched down on the grass near the television and turned up the volume was a beer commercial. At least it wasn’t one of Grayson’s. “Thrilling.” She tried to turn away.

  “Wait.”

  She exhaled impatiently. “Look, guys. I don’t want to see Grayson beat Max. Or Max beat Grayson. Or anyone else beat both of them. I do not—” She broke off when the commercial ended and a shot of a rodeo arena filled the screen.

  Her stomach tightened.

  But it quickly became obvious that it was the tie-down event that was under way. Not steer wrestling at all.

  The knots in her stomach began to ease up. “Travis Conrad,” she said, as she recognized the competitor. “Max’s buddy. Oops.” On the screen, the calf had escaped his ties.

  “No time for Travis. Bummer.” The double zeros flashed on the screen while the rodeo announcer stirred up the crowd to applaud anyway as Travis rode out of the arena.

  Before Billie had a chance to look away again, the image flashed to a picture of an ambulance pulling out of the dirt arena. “That there’s the fine folks who’re gonna transport another one of our Texas boys to the hospital,” the announcer drawled. As she watched, the image of the ambulance was replaced by another video clip.