He ran his hands down the thigh of his jeans. “I screwed up…bad.”
“What’d you do?”
From somewhere deep inside him he found the strength to tell her about Lucky and the baby. She moved to sit beside him and gave him a hug.
“I’m so sorry, Cisco.” She touched his bruised face. “Did Lucky hit you?”
Oh, no. When she called him by his given name he knew a lecture was coming so he braced himself.
“Ah…no. I made a nuisance of myself at The Beer Joint.”
“Cisco!”
“I know I’m too old to fight and I should leave Lucky alone.”
She hugged him again. “I always felt I should have put a stop to that relationship. You were too young to get that serious.”
She wouldn’t be Aunt Etta if she didn’t take the blame for his selfish behavior. She was always protecting her nephews. “It wasn’t your fault. I would have found a way to be with Lucky.”
“Uh-huh. What happened to those feelings once you reached Lubbock?”
He ran his hands over his face. “I don’t know. I just felt free from all the sadness that lingered here. It was a whole new life and I liked it. I wanted to call Lucky but I kept saying I would call her tomorrow—tomorrow became a week, a month, a year and then I knew it was too late.”
“And another girl took her place.” Aunt Etta rubbed his shoulder to ease the impact of her words. “You were always too handsome for your own good.”
“I never forgot Lucky.”
“That’s little solace for her now.” She shook her head. “Why didn’t she call me? I would have taken her and the baby in. This is too sad.”
“It’s my fault. Not Lucky’s.”
“It’s not a time to place blame. It’s time to get on with your lives.”
He clenched his hands between his knees. “The baby is buried at the Littlefield place and Lucky didn’t put my last name on the headstone. I can’t get beyond that. I don’t have any rights, but…”
“Now, Cisco. I know that tone of voice. Do not do anything stupid.”
“I’m putting my name where it should be,” he said with force.
She clutched his arm. “Listen to me. Talk to Lucky and work this out. You used to be able to talk her into anything.”
“She’s changed.”
“You haven’t. You’ve always been determined to get your way just like…”
He looked into his aunt’s startled, gray eyes. “…Dad.”
“Yes.”
Something in her expression drew his attention. “You thought so much of him.”
“Not always. He had his faults like everyone else.”
“Like what?” Could she possibly know the truth?
“We’re not talking about Chuck. We’re talking about you.”
“Oh, no. You know something about Dad and I’m old enough to hear it.”
“Leave it alone, Kid.”
“No, we’re not keeping any more secrets in this family.”
“Kid.”
“I’m a womanizer, a liar and a cheat just like Dad.”
“Oh.” His aunt visibly paled.
“I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.”
She smoothed her apron. “Yes.”
“You knew Dad was leaving us, didn’t you?”
“It was so long ago.”
“It seems like yesterday. Just tell me the truth.”
His aunt paused. “Yes, I knew he was leaving Carol for another woman. He asked me to look out for her and you boys. I did everything I could to talk him out of it, but nothing worked. He was besotted with that…”
“Finish it, Aunt Etta.”
“With that woman, Blanche Dumont.”
“You knew who the other woman was?”
“Yes, but—” she frowned “—how do you know? He was going to tell Carol the day after the big championship game. They had the wreck and I was relieved he hadn’t broken up the family.”
“He told her on the way back from Austin. Chance wasn’t asleep like he’d told the highway patrol and he heard everything except the woman’s name. Mom started hitting and demanding he tell her. That’s how he lost control of the car. Chance has known all these years and he finally revealed his secret to Cadde and
me when he joined us in Houston.” He scooted to face her. “When Chance married Shay, you knew her mother was Dad’s lover?”
“Yes.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Sad. But once I met Shay I liked her and saw no reason to dredge up your father’s sordid past.” She suddenly hit his shoulder, which was like a feather brushing his arm. “How could you boys keep that from me?”
“We knew how much you loved Dad and we didn’t want to hurt you.”
Aunt Etta’s demeanor crumpled. “My poor, sweet Chance. What a burden he’s carried. I have to talk to him.”
Kid hugged her and smiled into her worried face. “Please let me give them a heads-up. If they’re going to kill me, I’d like to have a running start.”
His aunt smiled slightly. “I’m sorry I said you were like Chuck. You have his adventurous spirit, but you have Carol’s sensitive side, her willingness to compromise, to smile and to work things out. Chuck never compromised on anything. I loved him, but he was stubborn as a mule.”
She hugged him again and he hugged her back. “Thank you. I needed to hear I have some good qualities.” He made to stand and forgot where he was and bumped his head on the top bunk. “Damn.” He rubbed his noggin.
Aunt Etta laughed and he laughed with her.
She touched his cheek. “You’ve always made us laugh. Never stop laughing, Kid.”
A
S
K
ID DROVE TO
C
ADDE’S
, he remembered Aunt Etta’s words, but he had a feeling his brothers weren’t going to be laughing. He pushed Lucky to the furthest corner of his mind. There were just so many regrets he could take in one day.
He went in through the back door, which was unlocked. No one seemed to lock their doors around here. Jessie was in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot with Jacob on hip. When Jacob saw him, he held out his arms and Kid gathered him close. Again, all the baby had on was a diaper and a T-shirt.
He stared into that adorable face and wondered if his son would have looked like Jacob. His gut twisted at the thought.
A helicopter sounded overhead and Jacob wiggled to get down. Mirry barked and trotted to the back door. Jacob took off after her.
“Is this a daily occurrence?”
Jessie leaned against the counter in denim shorts and a white maternity top. “Jacob’s asleep when Cadde leaves and when he wakes up, he searches for him all day. He gets so excited when he hears the chopper. He knows Daddy’s home.” She paused for a second, her
dark eyes on him. “Cadde told me about Lucky and the baby. I’m sorry, Kid.”
“Does Cadde tell you everything?”
“Yes.” She smiled.
“I feel like I’ve been hit by an eighteen-wheeler going about ninety.”
“I hope you and Lucky get a chance to talk.”
“Aren’t you going to berate me for being a heartless bastard?”
“No.” She turned toward the bubbling pot. “I think you can do that all on your own.”
Loud barks and excited baby jabber echoed from the hall.
“I have to break up my two children,” Jessie said. “Jacob pulls up and tries to reach the door handle. Mirry gets frantic that he’s going to open the door and get out.”
“He can’t open it, can he?”
“No, but it won’t be long. Cadde’s putting a latch higher up so he can’t.” Jessie walked toward the noise.
“Do you mind if I talk to Cadde alone for a minute?”
One dark eyebrow lifted. “Is there going to be yelling?”
“Probably.”
She made a face but didn’t say anything. As she left, he reached for his cell and called Chance. “Can you come over to Cadde’s?”
“Kid, I’ve been gone all day and I want to see my wife and kids.”
“It’s important and it won’t take long.”
“Have you done something stupid?”
“Not yet.” Why did they always ask that?
He heard a curse word as he disconnected.
In less than two minutes his brothers strolled into the den. Angry wails could be heard from the kitchen.
“Kid, what’s so important that you have to interrupt my family time?” Cadde was clearly upset.
“It’s about Aunt Etta.”
“What?” Chance was immediately alert. “I just saw her yesterday and nothing was wrong.”
Kid shifted in his seat. “I went to tell her about Lucky and we got to talking. She said I’m a lot like Dad. Not something I wanted to hear, but the way she spoke I sensed she knew a lot more than she was saying.” He raised his eyes to face his brothers’ wrath. “She knows Dad was leaving us for another woman. He asked her to look out for Mom and us. She also knew the woman was Blanche Dumont.”
Cadde plopped into his chair. “Why couldn’t you have left well enough alone?”
“Because I’m tired of secrets. How many are there in this family?”
“I’ve always felt Aunt Etta knew something,” Chance said. “I just never pushed her, but we should get everything out into the open.”
“She wants to see you,” Kid told him.
“Shay and I will talk to her after supper.”
Jacob crawled in, his hands and knees carrying him just as fast as they could, straight to his father.
“Sorry, he got away from me,” Jessie called.
“It’s okay, honey.” Cadde picked up Jacob and cradled him against his chest. “Daddy’s here.”
Kid thought it was time for him to leave. “One more thing. If Walker or the sheriff calls that I’ve been arrested, don’t worry about it.”
“What are you up to?” Cadde rubbed Jacob’s back, his eyes not too friendly.
He shrugged. “Lucky didn’t put my name on the baby’s headstone. No matter what I did, my son deserves my name and I’m going to have it put on there even if I have to chisel it myself.”
“Oh, hell.” He heard Cadde’s words as he walked out.
Chance followed him all the way to his truck. “Kid, think about this. Don’t do something crazy.”
“He’s my son,” he snapped, opening his door.
Chance grabbed the door. “Okay. Take a deep breath and think like a rational person. Can you do that?”
He did as Chance asked and then leaned against the truck, trying to dislodge the outrage in him. What was he doing? Acting like a man who had a right to issue orders. He had no rights. He’d thrown them away in the same self-centered mindset Chuck Hardin had. Oh, God. The truth was as blinding as the September sun.
“I take it Lucky said no about the name.”
For a moment he’d lost track of the conversation. “Yep. No discussion. Nothing. Just no.”
“Give her time. I know that’s hard for you, but if you do something behind her back and illegal you’ll never find a middle ground with Lucky. For your son, take some time.”
“I hate it when you do that.”
“What?”
“Make me see reason. I don’t like this grown-up crap.” He stared off into the warm afternoon and wondered if his life could get any more complicated. “I’m sorry if Shay’s going to be upset about Aunt Etta.”
“She’ll be fine. We were talking about telling her, but we never found the right time. Aunt Etta loves her and Shay will be happy that she knows the truth.”
“Oh, crap.”
“What?”
“Here comes Cadde. He’s going to hammer on my poor aching head some more.”
Cadde stopped beside Chance. “Have you talked some sense into him?”
“Yeah,” Chance replied.
“Good.” His older brother looked at him. “Please make better judgment calls than you did in your twenties.”
Kid climbed into his truck. “I’ll have to look up the description for
better
.”
As he started the engine, Cadde asked, “Are you coming in to work tomorrow?”
“Probably not.”
“Kid…”
He backed out staring at his brothers’ expressions—the one that said “God protect the world from Kid Hardin.” He might be a loose cannon, but he did it with a smile. Like Aunt Etta had said, he wasn’t ever going to stop laughing, even if his heart was breaking.
H
E HAD NO CLUE WHERE HE
was going. Seeing Lucky was out of the question. She was at work anyway and he couldn’t talk to her there. Swiping a hand through his hair, he realized he didn’t have his hat. Where in the hell had he left it? At Lucky’s.
Turning toward the Littlefield place, he decided to retrieve it. He just hoped Bud was in a friendlier mood. When he drove up, he saw the man sitting on the front porch in one of the rockers. His cane rested against his leg and a shotgun lay across his lap. Great. He had to face another Littlefield with a gun.
He got out and strolled toward the steps. A black-and-white border collie barked.
“Boy, you better have a good reason for coming back here.”
He took the steps slowly. “Bud, I’m not a boy anymore.”
“Humph.”
He sat in the other rocker. “I came to get my hat.”
“What you sitting for then? It’s in the house near the sofa.”
“Is Lucky okay?”
“Hell, no. Seeing you is like a slap in the face and if you think you’re getting anywhere near the grave, you’d better think again. I’ll fill you with so many holes we’ll be able to use you as a sprinkler.”
Old Bud had a dry wit, but Kid didn’t think for a second that he didn’t mean what he’d said. “I get the message.”
“You sure you don’t have a Magic Marker in your pocket?”
Kid drew back. “I wouldn’t deface my son’s headstone.”
“But you want your name on it?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t do anything stupid.” Not now. Adult reasoning was testing his brain and it wasn’t a good feeling.
“Aren’t you the same boy who used a red Magic Marker to draw a heart on my wall with Kid Loves Lucky inside?”
“Yeah, I did that.”
“Aren’t you the same boy who talked Lucky into stealing beer from my store?”
“Yeah, I did that, too, but I’m older now and…well, to be honest, the truth is age hasn’t changed me much. I planned to put my name on it when Lucky was away. But I can see now that isn’t a wise idea.”
Bud squinted at him. “Who are you?”
“Come on, Bud, give me a break.”
“Over your head maybe. You hurt my daughter and I’ll never forget that.”
“I’m sorry for all the pain I caused her.”
“Then go back to Houston and leave her alone.”
He took a long breath. For the first time he realized the past was over and there was no way to go back. Not even his name on his son’s grave would change that. He just got blindsided by all the pain. He had to leave Lucky in peace and he had to find a way to live
with himself. And that was about as grown-up as he could get.
Something else bothered him. “Aren’t you worried about Lucky working in that bar?”
“All the time.” Bud squinted at him again. “Somebody hit you. There’s a bruise on your left jaw.”
He touched the sore spot. “That happened last night when those guys tried to accost Lucky.”
“What guys?”
He frowned. “Didn’t Lucky tell you?”
“No. She didn’t mention a thing.”
How did he get out of this? Clearly Lucky didn’t want her father to know. But for once he used that better judgment thing Cadde was talking about.
“I got into a fight with three cowboys and Lucky had to separate us with her gun.”
Bud stared at him for several seconds. “Boy, you don’t lie very good.”
“Okay, Bud, it wasn’t a pretty scene, but Lucky had everything handled.”
“That girl is into something dangerous and I can’t stop her. She’s hell-bent on—”
“What do you mean ‘something dangerous’?”
“What?” Bud had a blank look. “Nothing. I’m just an old man rambling.”
“No, you’re not. What’s Lucky into?”
“Get your hat, boy, and leave.” Bud clammed up fast and Kid knew he wasn’t going to say another word.
He’d let it be for now and walked into the house. Inside everything had changed. New furniture, bigger
TV and a brightly patterned area rug covered the hardwood floor in the living room. A fresh cream color covered the walls and completely obliterated the heart he’d drawn over the sofa. They’d been fooling around that day, just the two of them as it often was. He drew hearts on her homework and she got mad. Then he’d drawn a big one on the wall. She giggled and said he was crazy. Her father was going to kill him. Bud was pissed. He’d called Aunt Etta and Kid was grounded for a week. He offered to paint over the heart but Lucky wouldn’t let him.
He guessed she finally had. Probably when she’d discovered Kid Hardin wasn’t worth the ink that was wasted on the wall. He took a long breath and picked up his hat. What he and Lucky had was over, but a whole lot of memories remained.
L
UCKY SERVED BEER WITH ONE EYE
on the door, watching for the cowboys, but so far they hadn’t showed. It was just as well. She had enough on her plate with Kid threatening to change the headstone. Why couldn’t he leave? He had no problem doing so years ago.
The place was busy and she didn’t have time to dwell on Kid and his unpredictable behavior.
Luther Farley slid onto a bar stool. “Coors. Can.”
She disliked the man to the point of wanting to cringe. He was a big, boastful, egotistical idiot with a spare tire around his middle. His mother believed drinking was a sin, so Lucky didn’t know why he kept
coming in here. Guess the rules didn’t apply to the Farley family.
Placing the can in front of him, she asked, “Anything else?”
He popped the top and winked at her. “You sure are looking fine tonight, Lucky.”
“I’ll remember to tell your wife that.”
“She doesn’t talk to women like you.”
Lucky’s hands curled into fists.
Stay calm.
“Must be nice living in that righteous world. Does she know you’re in here?”
“Hell, no. A man has to have some fun.” He leaned over and whispered, “You and I could have a lot of fun.”
She turned on her heel and marched into the back room before she hit him. Suddenly she heard a familiar voice. It couldn’t be. She peeped around the corner. Kid was sitting next to Luther. Why couldn’t he just leave?
“Hey, Kid,” Luther was saying. “Long time no see.”
“Been sort of busy.”
“Yeah, you Hardin boys are in the oil business.”
“It’s a dirty job but someone has to do it.”
Luther’s laugh was an obnoxious sound. “What are you doing in here? Getting reacquainted with Lucky?”
“No. It’s hot and I wanted a beer.”
“Yeah, right.” Luther snickered and then shouted, “Hey, Lucky, bring some beers to the back table for the guys and me.”
“You’re going that way,” Kid butted in. “Why don’t you carry them yourself?”
“Because that’s what she does—wait on men.”
Kid turned on the stool. “I don’t like the way you said that.”
“Who cares what you like, Hardin? Lucky’s a tramp and you ought to know that better than anyone.”
That’s when Kid’s fist connected with Luther’s jaw and he went flying into another time zone—almost. He landed against the jukebox and an old Waylon Jennings song came on. “I’ve always been crazy…”
How fitting could that be?
The room became completely quiet and she motioned to Bubba Joe. Luther moaned and Bubba helped him to his feet as Luther’s friends gathered round.
“Time to go,” Bubba Joe said.
At the door, Luther turned back, rubbing his jaw. “This ain’t over, Hardin.”
“I’m right here, Luther.”
“Fun’s over,” Bubba Joe announced and everyone went back to their drinking.
“What are you doing?” Lucky snarled at Kid.
Kid twisted his fist and sat on the stool again. “Breaking my hand, I think.”
“I want you to leave.”
“I didn’t like what he said.”