Rough Ryder Page 4

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you tonight.” She ended the call and turned to Schmiddy. “Do you have any way of finding out where a cell phone is located?”

  The man closed his eyes for a couple seconds. “No, ma’am. I don’t.” He started the vehicle.

  “Okay. I’ll see if I can find someone who can.” She accessed the internet and searched on “locating cell phone.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He swung the truck in a u-turn and headed toward the freeway. When he headed south instead of north, she dropped the hand holding her phone into her lap. Simultaneously, her heart felt like it had dropped off a cliff. “I’d ask where we’re going, but I think I know.”

  He drove silently.

  “You’re taking me home, right?” She had to swallow back the pain. Ryder hadn’t said goodbye. When he’d sent her off with Schmiddy that morning, he’d kissed her and smacked her butt, wishing her good luck as she got into the elevator with the bodyguard.

  Schmiddy grunted a sort of affirmative, his lips tightening.

  Was the guy preparing himself for a tirade from her? Or was he disappointed in his boss? She was disappointed in his boss. What if she’d found McCrae, and the “compelling” had happened, and Ryder and she had confronted her shithead stepbrother, and had gotten everything sorted out? Then what? Would Ryder have kept her around for the day? Found time to use that big hotel bed for what it was intended? Invited her to the concert tonight?

  She’d never find out.

  Reaching down into her bag, she pulled out her notebook and clicked open her pen. “You know what?” She settled into her seat with a loud exhale. “This is a good thing—you hauling me all the way to DC. ‘Cause I’m going to write one hell of a song about this.”

  He growled for a few seconds and increased speed.

  Clicking her pen open and closed, she tipped her head and hummed thoughtfully. “What rhymes with Schmiddy?”

  His hands tightened on the wheel, and she laughed for a few seconds before her heart took over and tried to turn the laugh into a sob. But she steeled her will. Tears would not happen, not today, and sure as hell not for Ryder Landry. She spent the next hour writing one of her most self-pitying songs yet.

  ****

  The next morning, Ryder pulled up to the main house at the McLairn Ranch. His jet had landed in Crockett, Texas, and one of his staff had left Ryder’s red lift-kit pickup at the airport for him. He’d never get used to the benefits of making excessive amounts of money. Raised on the higher side of dirt-poor, he and his mother had struggled for—and appreciated—every penny that ever came through their bank accounts.

  Ryder reached for the driver’s door handle and his hand shook. He glanced out the side window.

  This was his father’s ranch. Angus McLairn. The man who’d gotten his mother pregnant nearly twenty-eight years ago, and from whom his mother had hidden Ryder until her death earlier this year.

  Even though Angus had welcomed him into the family, as had Ryder’s half-sister, Val and her growing family, the wary truce between Ryder and his half-brother, Steele, weighed heavily on him.

  A figure appeared on the porch that circled the huge white house. He could tell it was Steele by the way he stood. Proud and tall, watching him, waiting.

  Ryder jumped out of the truck, landing hard on the concrete driveway.

  Steele took the steps off the porch and wandered toward him as if approaching a snarling mutt.

  Ryder didn’t blame him. He’d been a real ass the last ten months, taunting Steele with the threat of exposing their relationship when Steele felt the need to keep it a secret. Of course, Ryder had merely been acting like a bratty younger brother, the role coming easily to him. “Hey.”

  “Hey. Nora said you were comin’. You here to do some work?” Steele worked a toothpick between his lips, his gray eyes solemn.

  “I’m here to relieve you, if you wanna get back to Cali for a while.” His brother had a superstar country music career of his own based out of LA.

  “Just finished breakfast. C’mon in and let Miss Nora feed you while we talk.” Steele’s dark hair looked like it hadn’t been combed yet. The guy had to be enjoying the laid-back ranch life as much as Ryder did. Any time out of the spotlight meant not having to worry about looking the part of a star.

  “Sure.” Ryder left his duffle bag in the truck and walked alongside his brother up the steps and onto the porch. “What’s the construction going on down the road?”

  Steele held open the door for him. “After breakfast, we’ll ride out there. The ranch is…half yours now.” The words seemed to stick a bit. “You need to get the layout if you’re gonna help run it.”

  Ryder walked into the heavy oak foyer and headed toward the kitchen. “Don’t know if Angus will ever let either of us run it.”

  “True. But he’s due home from his trip in three days.” Steele followed him through the dining room and into the kitchen. “Guess we’ll find out then.”

  Nora turned her stick-thin body from the stove, her black hair pulled tight into a braid that ran down the back of her T-shirt. “Welcome, Mr. Ryder. What can I get you for breakfast today?” She pulled out a chair for him.

  He sat, feeling somewhat dizzy as the import of Steele’s words sunk in. This would be half his, shared with Steele. Val had mentioned that she preferred to let the ‘boys’ have the ranch, and when their father had changed his will to include Ryder, he’d set up a trust for Val; stocks, bonds, and life insurance.

  Ryder closed his eyes for a second, let the emotion fill him. He had a whole family here. Just ten months ago, he had been an orphan, with no living relations anywhere.

  Nora cleared her throat.

  He blinked up at her. “Uh, I’ll have whatever Steele had.”

  Her brows lifted. “Sure ‘nough. Give me a few minutes. And, would you like coffee?”

  “Please, ma’am.”

  She patted his shoulder. “No ma’am here. Just Nora.”

  Once he and Steele had steaming cups of tar-black coffee, Ryder started with the questions he’d rehearsed on the drive out to the ranch. “How’s Val? Healthy?”

  His half-brother nodded. “She’s fine, baby’s fine, they aren’t going to find out the sex until it’s born.” He went on to talk about the rest of Val’s family, her four-year-old son, Gage, and her two-year-old girl, Charlotte.

  Ryder sipped his coffee as he listened to the pride in Steele’s voice. Then he added sugar to his coffee. He wasn’t used to it that black. His mother had made chicory coffee at their ranch in western Louisiana. He sure as hell missed her elaborate breakfasts for just the two of them. More so, he sure as hell missed her.

  Steele pushed the little cream pitcher toward him and nodded Nora’s way. “She makes it thick as tar.”

  “I heard that.” The housekeeper/cook kept working.

  The scent of something spicy and delicious reached Ryder’s nostrils. “Did you ever find out where Angus went?”

  “Nope. Val and I don’t think he’ll ever tell us, either.” Steele leaned back, lifting the front legs of the chair off the floor. “Any guesses?”

  “Scotland?” The man was just a few generations from his immigrant ancestors, and still used some of the old language when it suited him.

  “Flying halfway around the world after a heart attack?” Steele’s brow lifted.

  “You still don’t think he had one, do you?” Three weeks ago, Ryder had just gotten off the phone with his father, telling him that he wanted nothing more to do with the McLairn family. That was after he and Steele had fought backstage at a benefit concert.

  Hours after that phone call, his half-sister, Val, had called Ryder and told him Angus had suffered a heart attack. The guilt he’d felt then came back now with a vengeance, and Ryder’s stomach turned just as Nora set down a plate of beef hash with four sunny-side-up eggs on top, and three pieces of buttered wheat toast.

  Steele watched him. “I’m gonna take a wild guess here, and say you’re feeling a heap of gui
lt about that day, right?”

  Ryder picked up his fork and nudged a perfectly-done egg. “Some.”

  “He didn’t have a cardiac episode, Ryder. The old coot wanted to make a point. With me.” Steele fisted his hands on the table. “And he did, at the cost of a hefty chunk of his savings going right into the hospital’s bank account.”

  Ryder watched his brother closely. He’d known Steele for years, long before they’d found out about their shared blood. The man wouldn’t lie, or even bend the truth, even to calm Ryder’s anxiety. But he still felt the sharp guilt of making their father go to such extreme measures to try to bring the family together. “Thanks.” He meant it, and somehow his appetite returned. He tucked into the hash as Nora refilled their coffee cups. “Delicious, Nora. Thank you.”

  She nodded and left the room.

  “When you’re done stuffing your face, I’ll give you the tour, introduce you to the key staff, and help you figure out ways to keep yourself busy around here.” Steele poured cream in his own coffee. “Fact is, the place practically runs itself.”

  “I’m not gonna tell Angus you said that.” Ryder smeared homemade apple jelly on a piece of toast.

  “Dad.” Steele stared right at him.

  He froze. What was Steele trying to say?

  Steele took a breath. “I think he’d like it if you called him Dad.”

  Ryder bit into the bread, the apple and cinnamon barely registering. After he swallowed, he looked out the window. “Don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”

  “Don’t know if I am, either.” Steele got to his feet. “But I do know the old coot is.” He walked to the door and pulled a straw cowboy hat off a peg. “I’ll be in the garage whenever you’re ready.”

  Ryder nodded. He wasn’t going to eat much more, but he could use a few minutes alone.

  After Steele walked out, Ryder took a dozen more forkfuls then carried his plate to the sink and noticed a bucket marked slop. “Pigs?” He didn’t realize they raised pigs. He knew about the chickens and turkeys, and the milk cows that produced the basis for the ranch’s dairy operation, making their own cheese, milk, and ice cream. He loaded his dishes in the wide dishwasher and took a few minutes to stare out the picture window at the ranch buildings.

  “This is half mine.” If it wouldn’t have made him feel like a girl, he’d have pinched himself. “And I have a…Dad.”

  Chapter Five

  Ryder stepped into the big garage situated just off the main house.

  A drill started whirring, and he walked toward the noise. Steele stood fixing a wood shelf.

  “Handy, aren’t you.” He looked around. “Is this yours?”

  “No. Dad’s. He likes to putter, as he calls it.” Steele set down the drill. “Ready?”

  “Sure.” They took a ranch truck to the barns, then the machine shop, the foreman’s office, and the bunk house, which had separate rooms with private bathrooms for each ranch hand. Ryder’s ranch in Louisiana had nothing that modern. The men actually slept in bunk beds. Maybe it was time he did some upgrading on his place, spend some of the money earning interest in his bank account.

  They came back around to the horse barn where the wrangler’s assistant had saddled a couple of horses. Ryder borrowed a baseball cap from a rack by the door, and the brothers rode to the dairy operation. Steele introduced him around, and let the men show him how things worked. Walking out of the building, Steele pointed in the direction of the new construction. “Wanna ride out and see the new place?”

  “New place?” Ryder pulled himself up into the saddle.

  “Yeah. Mine. Mine and Tracy’s, I mean.” He grinned and kicked his horse into a run.

  Ryder followed, slowly at first, until he had a feel for the horse, then he kicked the cayuse into a run.

  Steele and Tracy. They’d had some rough times at first, but had made it through. Now they were engaged, with a wedding coming up in a year or so.

  His thoughts tripped to Brooke. Fuck, he’d pushed her out of his mind so many times in the last twenty-four hours, his head hurt. He’d done what he had to do. Sent her home without a goodbye. It was for the best. For her, for him, for the legal bullshit.

  “Son of a bitch!” He shouted the words into the hot Texas air rushing past his face. He’d been so sure she’d find her stepbrother, have Schmiddy haul him to wherever Ryder was at the moment, and they’d have a quick talk in the back of the SUV and clear it all up.

  But when his bodyguard had called with the news that McCrae had left school, no forwarding address, Ryder had to make a tough decision: invite Brooke to the hotel for a quick hour of pleasure—the visual gave him a hot chill—or heed the advice of his agent and his own intuition, and cut this thing between them with a sharp blade.

  He had no illusions that she’d ever forgive him for this, or that she’d try to see him again. He’d given Brooke his attorney’s phone number and asked her to call the law office for help settling the song copyright with her. He didn’t want her showing up at his concert with a sign…

  Or did he?

  All last night as he performed his greatest hits and the songs from his newest CD for his second and last Pennsylvania show, he’d watched for her. After the show, a couple of hot redheads with backstage passes waited for him outside his dressing room. He’d signed their passes but sent them on home.

  Schmiddy had actually growled at him.

  Yeah, he had it bad for Brooke, but it was just the old “one that got away” syndrome. Wasn’t it?

  Steele slowed and walked his horse, and Ryder caught up to him, riding beside him. They made their way along a new road toward the construction site Ryder had seen on his way into the ranch.

  “This is pretty damn big. Even for your ego, bro.” Ryder’s teasing came from his unease about his treatment of Brooke. “I mean…” Oh hell, he didn’t know what he meant.

  “Yeah, it’s nearly big enough to hold my inflated sense of self-worth.” Steele slid off his horse. “Let me show you the plans.”

  After Steele greeted some of the workers, he and Ryder stepped into the construction trailer. Steele unrolled big sheets of paper, explaining the house setup, the recording studio, and rehearsal stage that he’d actually designed with the assistance of an architect, and Tracy’s help in modifying.

  “This is going to be fucking amazing.” Ryder followed Steele out the door. “Sorry about the ego comment.” He pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “It’s been a rough week.”

  “You’re touring, right? You could probably use a few dozen hours of sleep right now.”

  Ryder shook his head. “No, I’m just…” He leaned on a sawhorse and debated whether to talk about his latest problem. Steele had been in the industry for a lot longer than Ryder, and could probably offer some advice.

  “I’ve got this woman saying I stole her song.”

  Steele gestured toward the trees where they’d tied their horses. As they walked over, Ryder told the story, leaving out the almost-sex parts, and they sat under the tree.

  “You didn’t sleep with her, right?”

  Ryder tugged on a piece of grass. “No. Wanted to. But some smart part of my brain kicked in and I turned her down.”

  “Groupie?” Steele eyed him.

  “I don’t think so. If she is, this had to be the most elaborate setup I’ve ever seen a woman use to get into bed with me.”

  Steele laughed. “Yeah, they come up with some humdingers.”

  They spent the next half hour comparing backstage stories, then Ryder asked for his brother’s opinion on Brooke.

  Steele grunted then stayed silent as they mounted their horses and headed back toward the ranch house.

  “I’d let your attorney handle it from now on.” Steele rode tall and strong in the saddle, while Ryder let the weight of his problem settle heavy on his shoulders.

  “She’s tenacious. If it doesn’t get settled to her specifications, I’m pretty sure I’ll be seeing her again.
”

  “Still got Schmiddy?”

  Ryder had let the man go home for the week, figuring the McLairn Ranch would be a safe enough place for Ryder to hide. “Still got him.” And he’d be sure to have his bodyguard keep a close eye out for Miss Brooke at next week’s concerts. He had the gut feeling she wasn’t done with him. And he knew they had some unfinished bedroom business that would keep him high and hard most nights for a long while.

  “Listen, Ryder, while you’re here, I need to get your help with something.” Steele’s voice sounded almost hesitant.

  “If it’s anything to do with the pig waller, the answer is no.”

  Steele laughed and Ryder couldn’t help but stare at the rare sight. Tracy had done wonders for his brother’s demeanor. Could that happen to every man? A woman, changing the bad parts to not-so-bad, smoothing out the edges? His mind shot straight to a vision of Brooke’s beautiful smile. It took a few minutes and a tough headache, but he pushed her out of his thoughts again.

  “Let me think on it some.” Steele resettled his hat on his head. “I’ll talk to you about it after supper.”

  The mystery surrounding Steele’s request struck Ryder as odd. His big brother was usually the least mysterious person in the contiguous US.

  ****

  After supper, Ryder crouched in front of the fire he’d built in the enormous brick fireplace in the living room. He’d been in this position so long, his knees started to ache. Something about a fire calmed him, re-centered his soul. It always had, since he was old enough to be trusted with a lighter. He’d sit alone on a log out in the middle of a field, staring into the flickering flames, and sometimes he’d pretend his dad was there next to him, that the man had come back to stay.

  Then he’d snap back to reality, and wonder for the millionth time what had happened to make his father leave a beautiful, kind, patient, loving woman like his mother. The guilt of knowing he had been the reason the man left always seared the backs of Ryder’s eyes, like rogue sparks that made his eyes water.

  As he grew older, those thoughts got pushed back, almost forgotten, as he worked to harden himself against the hurt, and toughen his determination to succeed. He’d become world-famous, he’d show the man who’d abandoned him what a horrible mistake he’d made leaving them.