Gambling On A Secret. Sara Walter Ellwood

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СКАЧАТЬ you a job with Homeland Security. You’d be good there with all of your experience with the Army. If nothing else, it would get you away from here and memories of Brenda.”

      “No.” He turned away and drained most of the Budweiser.

      “You’d have veteran’s preference. Mom told me so. Why won’t you even try?”

      Shit, now she had their mother involved. “Because I refuse to be under a microscope.” He pinned her with a glare over his shoulder. After the botched mess he’d made of his last mission, it was a miracle he hadn’t been court-martialed, and a goddamned shame Congress pinned a Purple Heart on him. It made him sick to think he got it because he was General Bob Quinn’s son. The last thing he wanted was his father pulling strings with his buddies in the higher echelon of government to get him a cushy job.

      “I don’t want to work for the government.”

      Tracy bit her bottom lip as he passed her to go into the living room.

      “By the way, I’d appreciate it if the next time you set up a job interview for me, you don’t mention Oak Springs Ranch again.” His feet felt heavy as he turned to face her, tripping him up. He grabbed the back of the couch to keep his balance.

      Tracy averted her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. “I know you don’t like Leon, but your experience working on the ranch was information Miss Monroe needed to know. When I was over at Oak Springs for dinner last night, Leon asked me to tell you to stop by.”

      “Hell will freeze over before I set foot on that ranch.” He took a draw on the Budweiser. “So, did you see our step-grandmother off on her next great adventure? Greece this time, right?”

      Tracy narrowed her eyes at him and pulled herself to her full height, which put her eye-to-eye and nose-to-nose with his six feet. “Have some respect. Maddie was married to our grandfather longer than our real grandmother was. She really cares about us.”

      He snorted and finished the beer. “Yeah, sure she does, as long as Mom was cut out of everything when Granddad died, and her son got it all.”

      “Uncle Leon would give you a job and a place to stay.”

      “That thief is not our uncle any more than that gold digger is our grandmother.” He bit the words out between clenched teeth and took an unsteady step toward her.

      Tracy moved back.

      He didn’t care she was afraid of him when he was drunk. “Leon stole our mother’s land and took away our birthright. Oak Springs Ranch should be ours!”

      Tracy shook her head, tossed her hands in the air, and walked away. “I have a customer in a few minutes.” She glanced over the living room. “Clean up this pigpen before Bobby comes home from school.”

      Every thump of her steps hurrying down the stairs echoed through his head like a drum in a rock band. He tossed the empty beer can toward the trashcan by the computer desk. The can missed its mark by more than five feet, and the momentum of tossing it knocked him off balance.

      He fell hard against the corner of the couch on the hip that metal and plastic had replaced after a piece of shrapnel had blown it apart. Cursing, he flipped over onto the seat and laid his head back. He squeezed his eyes shut. The white-hot pain searing through him reminded him of the flaming shards of metal and glass that tore through his men. Why the hell had he trusted the damned Afghani woman and her lies? He’d never be the man he was before he’d gotten his men killed.

      He wasn’t drunk enough to kill the pain or drown the memories or the dreams. But neither Brenda nor his last mission drifted through the fog of booze when he passed out. Charli Monroe’s sexy orange toenails and the ghosts he’d seen swimming in her ocean-like eyes shimmered to life.

       Chapter 2

      The Longhorn Saloon was always crowded on Friday nights and tonight was no exception. The place tried to capture the flavor of the Old West, but mostly it reminded Dylan of every other honky-tonk he’d ever stepped foot in. Old sawdust and peanut shells covered the floor. The place smelled of stale liquor, sweat, smoke and fry grease.

      As he pulled his old felt hat low over his forehead, he weaved his way past the mechanical bull and the jukebox. On the dance floor, an energetic group of locals and college kids were attempting to follow Ella Larson’s cowboy boots as she scooted and boogied across the worn hardwood to Brooks and Dunn.

      He headed for his favorite corner booth to find two barely legal boys sitting there. He pinned the college kids with his best tough-guy scowl. They got up and left so fast they had to stop and go back for their beers.

      After sliding into the booth, he didn’t have to wait long for Ella’s younger sister, Julie, to come forward with a bottle of his usual. He handed her his credit card to cover the tab.

      He’d thrown back a couple shots of Jack Daniels when a group of college kids shoved into the booth across from him. From the wild look in one of the boy’s eyes, it had to be his first time in a bar.

      Julie stopped by the table, checked their IDs and took their orders. He couldn’t help but overhear the blonde, pressed up close to the wide-eyed boy, telling Julie today was his twenty-first birthday. After several minutes of teasing by the other boy, and giggles from the two girls in the group, Julie went to the bar to put in their orders.

      Their drinks arrived and they toasted Birthday Boy with more laughter.

      He didn’t need this crap. Looking around, he found an empty spot at the bar and reached for his bottle.

      Blondie next to Birthday Boy said, “Guess what Charli Monroe’s doing tonight.”

      He slid a sideways glance at the table of kids, set the bottle down and stayed glued to the cracked vinyl.

      The girl across from her laughed. “Oh, I can only imagine. She’s in my psych class. I bet she’s studying.”

      “Yep.” Blondie played with the fruit balls in her prissy drink.

      The boy beside the psychology girl lifted his beer and smirked. “She’s one hot number. I’ve thought about asking her out, but something about her is just strange.”

      Psychology Girl, who looked too much like the boy sitting beside her to not be his sister, laughed. “I have to agree. She’s weird. I don’t think she even has any friends. She’s been at Colton College since the beginning of the semester, and I’ve never seen her hang out with anyone. No wonder she’s all the teachers’ pet. As if the way she dresses wouldn’t be enough to get their attention, she’s a damned brainiac, and rich.”

      Dylan downed another shot of whiskey. His interview had been over a week ago. Charli Monroe hadn’t called. No surprise there. Tracy was hounding him again to crawl to Leon Ferguson for a job. Lucifer would sit on the left hand of God before that happened.

      When two familiar couples came into view, he was pouring another shot. His hand shook as he set the bottle on the table with a bang. What was his ex doing in here? At the sight of the skinny geek, Nick Dailey, with Brenda, he gritted his teeth as fire spread up his neck.

      He had hated the pencil-neck geek since meeting him at a Christmas party a month before he’d shipped out to Afghanistan. Brenda, an English teacher, had become best friends СКАЧАТЬ