Cowboy's Unexpected Family (Thorne Ranch Brothers Book 1) Page 11

  “You’re not upset about it being Cal?” Amy asked cautiously after taking a minute to collect herself.

  “No, of course not.” Laura gave her a half-smile. “In a strange way, it’s reassuring to know that even a son I didn’t raise has such good taste in women.” She stared into the fire before continuing. “But I understand now why you were asking me about finding love again.” Laura turned so she could see Amy’s face. “I know I said that I probably wouldn’t, but that was me, honey. You deserve love and passion and the kind of support that only a good man can give you. And you’ll get it, too.”

  “I’m not sure about that.” Amy swiped at her tears. She couldn’t see herself feeling about anyone else the way she did about Cal. Her love for Luke had been youthful and more fascination than love. For Cal, she felt the depths of a mature love and connection. “Cal’s going to return to the rodeo and I can’t imagine finding someone else.”

  “Apparently, Cal’s too much of a fool to see what’s in front of his nose.” Laura seemed annoyed with her son. “But another man will. You’re a prize, Amy, and don’t you forget that. In the meantime, you’re entitled to a good cry, so go ahead.”

  Amy stopped trying to hold in the tears. Instead, she let them fall as she told Laura about her feelings for Cal and what she loved about him. It felt good to talk, and Laura was a great listener. At midnight, they finally went to bed. Amy’s heart was still heavy and bruised but knowing how much the Thornes cared for her helped.

  “I’ll take another,” Cal said, signaling to the bartender for a fifth shot of whiskey. His usual two beer limit didn’t apply in this situation, he’d decided. He wanted to get drunk. Maybe that would numb the pain of Amy’s rejection.

  The worst part was that she had to bring up Luke in the process. Cal snarled. In his rational brain, he knew he was being unreasonable, but he didn’t give a shit about being reasonable when the woman he loved had closed the door on a future with him. After she claimed that she loved him. Dammit. He downed the shot in one gulp and slammed the glass onto the bar, and the bartender refilled it.

  “You’re going to need a ride home, buddy.” The man leaned on the bar.

  “I know that.” He might be drunk, but he wasn’t a fool.

  “Keys.” The bartender held out his hand and waited until Cal slapped his truck keys down on the bar. “Thanks. You can pick ’em up tomorrow.” The man took the keys and hung them on a hook behind the bar.

  Cal had never felt so sullen and pissed off. The worst was that he'd actually convinced himself Amy loved him enough to leave with him. He grimaced. What the hell had he been thinking?

  He’d been in love. That’s what he’d been thinking. And he should have known better since he’d been down this road before. Love didn’t work out for him. He needed to accept that and move on. He’d do this damn rodeo and then he’d get the hell out of Darby Crossing just as fast as he could.

  Decision made. Now, why the hell didn’t he feel any better? He’d just put his hand around his glass when a hand clamped on his shoulder and yanked him from the barstool. Before Cal could react, a fist connected hard with his jaw. He staggered back, managing to stay on his feet, and eyed his opponent. Jake Thorne stood there, his face angry and his hands balled into fists.

  “Go on, fight me,” Jake goaded and gave Cal a shove to the chest. “Come on, dammit.” Jake spoke loudly, attracting attention.

  What the hell was this?

  “None of that in here,” the bartender said from behind Cal, but a circle formed around him and Jake, anticipating a fight.

  Cal took a second to think about what he was doing. He could be the mature adult and walk away, but the set of Jake’s jaw irritated Cal, and all those shots had him feeling reckless. Screw it. If his little brother wanted to make the dangerous choice to punch a drunk, heartbroken man with nothing to lose, then Jake was going to get the fight of his life.

  Cal charged forward and swung an uppercut to Jake’s jaw. His brother’s head snapped back, but he returned with a sharp thrust into Cal’s gut, making him grunt but not back away. They stood close together, exchanging blow for blow, neither one of them teetering.

  Dimly, Cal was aware of the shouts of the crowd, but he didn’t let it distract him. Jake was tough, younger than Cal and seasoned from hard work on the ranch, but Cal had taken plenty of abuse as a rodeo rider. He shrugged off the physical pain. They circled each other, neither of them giving ground and both of them throwing punches that connected.

  “Hey, break it up,” a voice called sharply before someone pulled Cal back and pinned his arms down. He struggled, but the man had size on Cal and an iron grip. Cal looked up at Jake and saw Brian, dressed in his uniform, holding his twin brother in place. “What the hell’s wrong with you two?” Brian snapped. “Get ’em outside.”

  The beefy deputy who had Cal pulled him toward the tavern door, the crowd parting in front of them. It was gratifying to see that Jake was being dragged out by Brian in the same fashion.

  “Put ’em in the back.” Brian opened the door of his sheriff’s department SUV.

  “Together?” the deputy questioned, looking between Cal and Jake.

  “They’ll behave.” Brian pinned them both with a steely look. “Isn’t that right, brothers?”

  Jake held his twin’s gaze for a minute. “Shit, Brian,” he finally muttered and got in.

  “Are you arresting us?” Cal demanded as the cool air brought some reason to him. Cal hadn’t had a brother until recently, but arresting him and Jake didn’t seem like a brotherly thing to do.

  “Damn straight, I am.” Brian shot back. “Get in.”

  Cal climbed into the SUV and dropped his head into his hands. He was already sore all over from the pummeling he’d taken, but all he could do was laugh grimly. For the first time in his life he was in the back of a police vehicle and his own damn brother was at the wheel.

  Christ. He’d made a hell of a mess of things.

  16

  Cal opened his eyes and immediately slammed them closed again when confronted with the light coming from a window above him. A minute later, after bracing himself, he tried again, cracking open one eye, and took in his surroundings. Metal cot, iron bars, concrete floor. Jail. He closed his lid again as it all came back in a rush. The heartache, the bar, and his fight with Jake. No wonder he felt like a bull had stomped on him. His head hurt and his stomach roiled. And none of that compared to the state of his heart. It was all no more than he deserved. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but it was dry as the desert and his tongue felt thick.

  Low spoken words reached him from nearby, and he held still, listening. The twins’ voices were nearly identical, but Jake’s was more gravelly so Cal could distinguish it.

  “This sucks,” Jake said, sounding about as bad as Cal felt. “Cal throws a mean punch.”

  “What the hell got into you?” Brian asked. “Barfights aren’t your thing.”

  “He hurt Amy,” Jake said, making Cal wince at the blunt appraisal.

  “How? I thought they were getting along fine.”

  “A little too fine. Amy loves him, but he’s leaving her for the rodeo.” Not totally true, Cal wanted to interject. It was more like they were leaving each other. She wouldn’t go and he couldn’t stay. “She was crying her eyes out in the kitchen last night when Mom and I found her.”

  “So you drove into town to pick a fight? Can’t blame you, I guess.” They were both silent for a minute until Brian continued. “Was he toying with her?”

  “I don’t know. Amy claimed that he loved her back, but I can’t figure that,” Jake said. “How could anybody love Amy and leave her?”

  Cal was trying to stay still, but he wanted to respond to Jake’s question. Did they think it was easy to walk away from a woman like her? But he knew too well that he couldn’t stay in Darby Crossing.

  “Got me,” Brian said, several seconds passed. “But it’s not only about Amy, is it? You’re mad for yourse
lf, too.”

  What was this? Jake gave a crap about what Cal did? Sure, he’d thought they’d formed a bond of sorts—but after what Laura had said, he’d been sure that Jake was too hurt by the resemblance to the sainted Luke to get invested in Cal as a person.

  “A little,” Jake admitted, surprising Cal. “It seemed good to have more family around again. But not him. We don’t need him around. Not after what he did to Amy. And he lied to me and Laura.”

  “About what?” There was an edge to Brian’s voice now.

  “Claimed he’d slept on the couch several nights, too tired to drive back to town after talking to Amy. That was all bullshit. He was in her bed.”

  “Amy’s an adult,” Brian reasoned.

  “I know that, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to see her cry. Anyway, family stays—and he’s not staying. He’s no brother to us. I don’t give a damn what the DNA says.”

  The words were harsh—but what hit harder was the genuine hurt Cal could hear in Jake’s tone. Maybe his little brother really did care about him after all, really was upset about the idea of him leaving. But would Jake ever really be able to accept that he wasn’t Luke, that he couldn’t be a replacement? God, how had he gotten himself tangled in such a mess? The rodeo never hurt or confused him like this. All it ever gave him were broken bones—not a broken heart.

  “You going to let me out now?” Jake demanded softly.

  “Can’t,” Brian said. “He has the right to press charges. The entire bar saw you start the fight. I gotta keep you until he wakes up and decides.”

  “I got work to do on the ranch,” Jake complained.

  “Cool your heels. Do you want an ice pack for that eye?”

  Cal remembered his right hook connecting hard with the outside of Jake’s left eye. It had been a satisfying punch, but any satisfaction Cal had gotten out of it during the fight was gone. He felt like shit for hurting Amy and messing up his brothers’ lives. But he couldn’t lie there much longer, so he started to make grumbling sounds as if he were just waking up. Their conversation ceased as he pushed slowly up to sitting and focused on them.

  “Mornin,’” he drawled.

  “Sleeping beauty awakens,” Jake greeted him sarcastically.

  “How you feelin’ this morning?” Brian walked closer to Cal’s cell as he spoke.

  “How the hell do you think I’m feeling?” Cal grumped. He wasn’t interested in making small talk. Cal raised his fingers to his face and felt the swelling along his jawline.

  “I wouldn’t know since I’m not the one looking like a punching bag,” Brian said. “I am curious about what put you here. Want to talk?”

  “I want to know what I have to do to get out of here,” Cal said. “I’ll pay a fine for being drunk in public or fighting or whatever.”

  Brian leaned against the bars now. “Were you really dating Amy?”

  Cal couldn’t decide if he wanted to slump back on the uncomfortable cot or go toe-to-toe with Brian for asking that question, but he wasn’t in any shape to fight another brother.

  “What’s it matter?” Cal finally asked. “It’s over now.”

  “It seems to me that you were pretty messed up last night,” Brian replied, “and Jake says Amy was, too. Maybe the two of you should try to work out your differences.” Brian probably meant his words to be kind, but Cal didn’t want to hear it.

  “I don’t need advice,” he said. “I just need to get out of here.”

  “All right.” Brian unlocked the cell door and opened it wide. “You’re not facing any charges. Yeah, you were drunk, but there’s no law against that in a bar, and the bartender said you gave up your keys without a fight.”

  Cal got to his feet, teetering only slightly. “What about him?” He pointed across to Jake. “You setting him free, too?”

  “That’s up to you. Do you want to press assault charges against him? That’s your right.” Brian hitched his thumbs into his belt and waited.

  Cal had to admit to some admiration for Brian. He was tough and he took his job seriously as sheriff. To the point that Brian would have let Cal press charges on his twin without trying to argue or intimidate him out of it. “Hell, no.”

  “The bartender dropped your truck keys off here after closing. They’re on my desk. Help yourself.” Brian went to unlock Jake’s cell, but Cal didn’t wait around.

  He snatched his keys from the desk and made his way outside. He had to lower the brim of his hat to keep the bright morning sunshine out of his eyes. With a quick glance around, he strode off toward his truck, looking forward to returning to the life he loved on the rodeo and leaving this small town behind.

  A couple days later, Cal was feeling fit again. The bruises on his face and torso were fading, and he was itching to be busy, thrilled to be headed to the rodeo in Anders City, a fifty-mile drive away.

  He was sure that getting back on the circuit would cure the restlessness and angst in him. It always had in the past. When he reached Anders City, he went straight to the arena to look over the horses and competitors. It was good to be back among people he knew and a place he loved. He shook hands with other riders and talked until he was darn near hoarse, giving interviews to promote Darby Crossing’s charity rodeo and talking about the coming changes in his career.

  The next day he was pumped when his competition began. He watched his fellow bronc riders rack up some pretty good scores while he waited for his turn. He’d drawn the final slot, a position he liked, so he knew what he had to beat. John Sloane, one of the fiercest competitors on the circuit, was in first place with a score of eighty-six. Both horse and rider had an excellent ride.

  “Nice one,” Cal said and shook John’s hand when his score went up.

  “Bet you can’t beat it since you pulled Louie.” John shot him a grin.

  Louie was a chestnut gelding that Cal had ridden before. The last time he’d been tossed after six seconds and considered himself lucky that he hadn’t been injured. The horse had a mind of his own, which could mean spectacularly high scores or dismal ones.

  “I whispered in his ear earlier,” Cal said, hearing the usual rush when his name was announced as the next rider. “He’s going to help me out today.”

  John laughed. “Sure he is.”

  Cal waited while Louie was brought into the chute. The horse’s eyes were wild and his ears were laid flat, signs that he was ready to cause trouble. Cal climbed into the chute and got in position, trying to stay limber and mentally preparing himself to react to Louie’s movements. He needed eight seconds in the saddle.

  “Go,” he called to the official who released the gate on the chute and sent Cal and Louie into the arena. Instantly, Louie began bucking wildly. In his head, Cal was measuring off the seconds. Three. Four. Louie spun to the side, kicking his rear legs high into the air. Six. Seven. Louie landed hard, his head down, but Cal didn’t budge. Two more seconds passed before Cal sprang free from the stirrups, tucking and rolling away from the horse onto the soft surface of the arena floor.

  He leapt to his feet as the rodeo workers snagged Louie and brought him under control. Cal hopped up on the fence encircling the arena and waved to the roaring crowd. It had been a spectacular ride, one of the best of his career, and he wasn’t surprised to see a score of ninety-four go up on the overhead scoreboard. The cheers increased in volume, and he spent the next several minutes shaking hands and getting slapped on the back.

  He should have been ecstatic, but he felt as though someone had put the brakes on his joy. His friends were with him, guys he’d known for years, but it suddenly felt like not enough. He had pleasant, superficial relationships with these people, but nothing deeper. He wanted the people he really loved with him—wanted Amy and Henry there with him to share the moment. But that wasn’t happening, so he kept smiling and accepting congratulations, with a hollow sensation in his gut.

  This used to be his entire world, but it seemed…small somehow.

  “I’ll be damned,” Jo
hn said, making his way through the crowd to Cal. “That was one hell of a ride. Congratulations. You sure you want to retire? With a ride like that…”

  “I’m sure,” Cal said, his certainty unwavering. A few months earlier, a ride like that day’s would have had him pumped for another year on the circuit, but he knew his body couldn’t take it anymore.

  And…and his heart might not be in it a hundred percent either. Not to riding…and not to the rodeo. Did he really want to be a commentator for the sport? He’d tried to convince himself that it was the perfect fit for him, but as he was interviewed by the Rodeo Sports Network, he imagined himself in that role and it didn’t play out right in his head.

  He tried to shake it off as he went for a walk to see the different events. He found himself at a kids’ barrel racing competition. He watched two youngsters make their way a little cautiously around the barrels. They turned in respectable times, but Cal could see where they’d benefit from some training, knew just what he’d say if he was coaching them.

  He leaned on the fence and waited for the next kid. A girl maybe a year or two older than Henry climbed on a dappled mare. Cal evaluated her seat. She was comfortable in the saddle. As she leaned forward to talk to her horse, Cal knew he was watching a true horsewoman in the making. She had a connection with the mare. When the signal came, she spurred her horse toward the first barrel, rounding it efficiently and easily. She cut in close on the second barrel and charged for the third with each movement damn near perfect. Once around the final barrel, she bent over the horse and raced to the line to finish her run.

  Cal’s eyes went to the clock. The girl had bested the other riders he’d seen and put up a time that would have been respectable for someone twice her age. When she brought the horse to a stop, a large man ran out from the sideline and swung her off the horse.