Those Texas Nights. Delores Fossen

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СКАЧАТЬ he could make sure they weren’t getting jacked around.

      Clay had failed big-time.

      And he was failing now, too, because he just couldn’t think of how to tell Sophie what he didn’t especially want to tell her. He opened his mouth to blurt it out when her phone buzzed. She yanked it from her jeans pocket and grumbled something he didn’t catch when she looked at the screen.

      “I’m sorry, but I have to take this. Roman,” she greeted the moment she hit the button to answer it.

      Her other brother. The one with a police record. Judging from the fact that he hadn’t come to his only sister’s wedding, Clay figured it wasn’t much of a stretch to say their relationship was strained.

      And one-sided.

      Other than her greeting, she didn’t manage to say anything. Clay was close enough to hear the chattering on the other end, but he couldn’t hear what her brother was saying. Whatever it was though, it clearly didn’t please her because her forehead bunched up.

      She stepped away from Clay, maybe to give herself some privacy, and she even glanced at him to see if he was staying. He was. That caused her to put a little more distance between them.

      “I really would like you home right now,” she said to her brother. “At least for a little while.”

      Clay decided it was a good time to stroll toward the back to get a better look at the place. Unfortunately, the breeze didn’t cooperate because it sent the sound of Sophie’s voice right at him.

      “All of that happened years ago,” Sophie argued. “Garrett and I need you here if for no other reason than to sign all these papers.” She paused. “You can’t give us the ranch—you know that. You know the terms of Daddy’s will as well as I do, and you can’t give or sell it to anyone. It’s yours until you die.”

      Clay walked even farther away. Apparently, Sophie was getting hit on several fronts, and Clay had heard at least some of the story with Roman. From the bits and pieces he’d heard, it wasn’t the first time they’d argued about the terms of their father’s will. Whatever the problem was, it was big enough for Roman to stay away.

      “No, I don’t want you to kill Brantley for me,” she continued. She shot a look at Clay, who tried to pretend he hadn’t heard what she’d just said. “Don’t even joke about something like that... Of course, you’re joking. And no, the ranch won’t fit up that particular cavity of Brantley’s body. Just consider coming home. Please.”

      Sophie finished her call, and she joined him at the corral fence. “Sorry about that. My brother. Another long story.”

      Clay hated to get in the middle of this, but there seemed to be an obvious solution. “Roman lives in San Antonio. Less than an hour from Wrangler’s Creek. Since he doesn’t want to be here, maybe you could hire someone to courier the paperwork back and forth?”

      She nodded. “That works when he’s home, but he’s on the road a lot for his rodeo business. By choice. He’s got people who can travel for him, but he likes doing that himself.” Sophie took in a quick breath. “Now, what were we talking about before we got on the subject of my brother?”

      Clay didn’t get a chance to say because they were interrupted for a third time when someone called out her name. It wasn’t a voice that Clay immediately recognized, but Sophie apparently did. Her shoulders snapped back, and she caught on to Clay’s arm.

      “Oh, God. It’s Brantley.”

      Shit.

      This was about to get ugly. Well, unless Brantley had had a change of heart and was here to grovel at Sophie’s feet. Even then it could still get ugly.

      “Clay,” Brantley said, extending his hand for him to shake.

      Clay tried not to break his fingers. All right, he didn’t try that hard, and it felt a little too good to see the man wince.

      Still wincing and wiggling his fingers after Clay let go, Brantley volleyed glances between them. “So, you told her, I guess?”

      Clay had to shake his head. “Not yet,” he said at the same moment that Sophie asked, “Tell me what?”

      Clay debated what to do. The news should come from Brantley, but he honestly hadn’t expected the guy to show up and do this face-to-face. Maybe he did have some balls after all.

      Good. Because it would give Clay something to bust.

      For now, though, he had to tell Sophie the news that would likely make her cry again. Not here in front of them. But as soon as she could get somewhere private, she would.

      “Brantley proposed to my sister,” Clay said.

      Clay gave her a moment to let that sink in. Sophie’s mouth was slightly open, and her stare was fixed on him.

      “My sister said yes,” Clay went on, “but I’ve asked her to reconsider.”

      Truth be told, he’d demanded it. Because there was no way she should be getting involved with a man like Brantley, especially this soon after her divorce.

      Still no reaction from Sophie. Damn. She might be going into shock.

      “Did you hear me?” Clay asked her. “Brantley and my sister are engaged.”

      Brantley shook his head. “Actually, we’re not.”

      Thank the Lord and anybody else who’d had a part in this. April and Brantley had come to their senses and called off this nonsense. Clay didn’t whoop for joy, but he would later. For now, it was time to get out of there so Sophie and this clown could perhaps work out a reconciliation. Even though Sophie deserved a hell of a lot better.

      “Are you engaged or not?” Sophie asked Brantley just as Clay turned to leave.

      “No.”

      There was something in Brantley’s one-word answer that had Clay stopping in his tracks, and he turned around just in time to see Brantley reaching out to Sophie. Except he wasn’t reaching. He was extending his left hand.

      To show her the ring he was wearing.

      “Not engaged,” Brantley clarified. “April and I are married.”

       CHAPTER FOUR

      SOPHIE’S THROAT SNAPPED SHUT, and that’s why she was surprised she’d managed to make a sound. Unfortunately, the sound that came out of her mouth was profanity. Stupid, G-rated profanity.

      Turd on a turkey.

      It wasn’t the right thing to say, of course. Not just now but in any situation whatsoever. Nor was it good for her to have what was no doubt a thunderstruck look on her face. She should have steeled up, put on the best mask she could muster and pretended that Brantley hadn’t just ripped out her heart. Clearly, she’d failed at that.

      “I know this is a surprise,” Brantley continued.

      He СКАЧАТЬ