Texas Grit. Barb Han

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       Chapter Two

      All the words Dade had wanted to say to Carrie since high school died on his tongue. Too many years had passed and, his own guilt aside, she might not want to think about what had happened anymore. Besides, she’d escaped an assault tonight and he could clearly see how rattled she was. This wasn’t a good time to bring up more pain.

      “I completely forgot to ask what you were doing in the alley,” Carrie said, stretching her legs in his truck as she fastened her seat belt.

      “Trying to stay away from the media while I picked up the bronze statue my family donates to the festival.” He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine hummed to life.

      “Oh, right. The cattle run kicks the festival off.” Her shoulders were still tense, her posture defensive.

      “And is part of the closing ceremony, which is why I’m here carrying on the family tradition,” he added. Being a Butler came with a price.

      “I heard you left town for a few days after news of your father broke.” Carrie gave him the most sincere look of compassion. “I’m sorry for your loss, Dade.”

      Those words spoken with such sincerity threatened to crack the casing in his chest. Dade couldn’t afford to go there, so he focused on Carrie instead. Her lime-green shorts and cream-colored halter highlighted soft-looking pale skin. Taupe ankle boots—at least that’s what they’d called that same color of paint when he’d had his house redone—showed off her calf muscles, and Dade reminded himself that he shouldn’t be noticing any of those things about his friend.

      “The Mav and I weren’t the closest, but his being gone leaves a huge hole at the ranch.” Dade thanked her for her sympathy. He gripped the steering wheel and navigated his truck away from the back street and onto Main. For the first time it struck him at how odd it must seem that he called his father Mav instead of Dad or Father like everyone else. But then, nothing about being a Butler made his life normal.

      “When did you get back?” She pushed a few curling tendrils of hair from her face as she crossed those long legs.

      “A few days ago,” he said, adding, “Seemed like I was needed here with the attempt on my older sister’s life and then finding out about having a sister we never knew existed.”

      “I read about what’s been happening with your family. Finding out you have another sister must’ve been a shock. And then her life was in jeopardy. Right?” she asked.

      “Madelyn had an ex-boyfriend with a violent streak who tracked her down and attempted to kill her,” he said. “We’re damn grateful the criminals in both cases have been caught.”

      “Neither was connected to your father’s murder?” Carrie asked.

      “We thought Ella’s might have been at first. Now, we know different. The Mav’s killer is still at large. Every new threat against the family has more reporters descending on Cattle Barge.”

      “How’s everyone doing?” Carrie asked.

      “It’s been rough.”

      “I can imagine.” The note of compassion in her voice struck him, threatening to shed light in a dark place hidden behind layers of anger, frustration and regret.

      “But we’re finding a new normal. Everyone’s looking out for each other.” Dade needed to armor up, and the best way to do that was to redirect the conversation. “The sheriff will need a description and the name of the guy from the alley.”

      “That’s not a problem. Unless... Actually, I don’t know his last name. He introduced himself as Nash, and I never asked for his last name.” Her voice was still shaky. “He gave me the creeps every time he came into the shop.”

      “A first name and description will go a long way toward helping the sheriff find him. If memory serves, the workers usually leave town early in the morning. Sheriff Sawmill or one of his deputies should have no problem locating this guy tonight.” How many men by the name of Nash could be employed by the festival?

      Carrie’s cell buzzed inside her purse, and the unexpected noise caused her to jump.

      “Sorry.” She stuck her hand inside the bag and came up with her phone. After checking the screen, she refused to take the call.

      “Does Nash have your number?” Dade doubted it, but the question had to be asked.

      “I wouldn’t give personal information to a stranger.” Her indignant tone said he’d offended her.

      “He might’ve gotten it from someone else or the internet,” he offered by way of explanation.

      “The phone call was my ex-boyfriend,” she stated with the kind of emphasis on the ex that said there was a story there.

      Dade hadn’t thought to ask if there was someone special in her life. It made sense there would be, with her looks. A burst of light zapped his chest at the thought that she was single.

      “We broke up recently, and he didn’t take it well.” Her cheeks flushed, and he wondered if he was making her feel uncomfortable talking about her relationships. He tried not to think about his, although the wounds were still fresh.