Three Cowboys

Chapter Six

“He’ll be safe here.” Justice crossed his office to the wet bar in the corner and uncorked the bottle of whiskey.

Bull rose from the wing chair where he’d been sitting. “Dakota and Cody are helping Julio get settled in the studio apartment on the second floor of their cabin. Now that he’s all stitched up and shot full of antibiotics, the main thing he needs is a good night’s sleep.”

Nearly every light in the main house was blazing, from the decorations on the tree at the front window to the security lanterns on the front porch. Justice lifted the bottle from which he’d just poured himself a second shot, but Bull shook his head at the offer of a refill. He needed to keep his senses clear if he was going to run the security here on the J-Bar-J.

Looking more like a weary father, and less like the tyrant Bull remembered, Justice downed the shot and set the glass in the sink before coming back to sit at the corner of the desk, facing his middle son. “Wyatt promised to come by as often as he can. And as long as you’re here, that’ll put a guardian on the ranch 24/7.”

“We need to keep it hushed up that he’s here, too. Shouldn’t be a problem as long as school is on break.” Bull scrubbed his hand over the late-night stubble shading his jaw. Even by helicopter, it had been a long trip back from the hacienda. And Bull had a feeling the days were going to be a hell of a lot longer in the week between now and Christmas—until they brought Brittany home. “Calderón seems to have a way of getting wind of things he shouldn’t, so we need to be careful.”

“Maria and Dakota know, of course, but I’ll try to keep the ranch hands in the dark about our guest for as long as possible, too.” With a firm nod, Justice rose and headed out to the main room. “I’d better go check on Mr. Rivas. I’m not too sure I like having a kidnapper under my roof. But I understand that he may still have information we need. And that we have to protect him until we get it.”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Justice.” Bull followed him out, stopping when they reached the hallway. “He’s full of regret, and pretty beat-up besides. He was just trying to help his family.”

“By putting my daughter in danger?”

“Calderón doesn’t discriminate when it comes to using or hurting anyone.” Bull shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The last time he’d tried to give his father advice, the conversation had ended with Bull running off to college and never looking back. He was done running from this man. “Try talking to him, Justice. Ask him to tell you about Brittany. You might learn something by doing a little bit of listening.”

“Listening isn’t my best thing.”

“I know.” He glanced up the stairs where he could hear the shower running. Tracy was up there, washing up after their overnight ride down to Mexico. After their run-ins with the Los Jaguares, he didn’t trust that she’d be safe alone in her apartment. “It’s a skill I’m learning to get better at myself.”

“I’ll try,” Justice conceded. “It’s not easy for an old dog to learn a new trick, but I’ll try.”

Bull saw the opening to say something to his father. Maybe he was getting some age himself. Or maybe Tracy’s and Wyatt’s insistence that their father was a changed man was starting to make sense. After nearly losing Tracy to the Los Jaguares, he had an idea of just how bad a man’s heart could break if he lost the woman he loved—giving him a tad of insight into his father going off the deep end after his mother’s death.

Still, the idea of sharing a civil, meaningful conversation with his father felt about as comfortable as breaking in a new pair of boots. But after ten years, maybe it was time one of them tried. “Wyatt’s got a lead on Morgan. He’s flying in from wherever he is. Rusty rounded up Jericho and Lila, and is driving them back from Calderón’s hacienda. In the meantime, I’m locking down this ranch. No one is going to hurt this family or the people we care about again.”

“No, son. They’re not. I’m glad you’re home to help me.” Justice raised his silvering head. His mouth curved into an unfamiliar smile. “I’ll see to the boy, and...I promise just to talk.” Bull was halfway to the second floor when Justice came back to stand beside the newel post at the foot of the stairs. “You are staying, aren’t you? At least until we get your sister back home?”

An uneasy alliance had been formed. Circumstances were forcing Bull to team up with his father to protect their family. And, possibly, the beginnings of trust between them was being rekindled. “Yes, sir.” But they weren’t going to hug and say Merry Christmas just yet. Bull tilted his head up the stairs. The running water had stopped. “If you don’t mind, I’m a little beat-up myself. I’m heading upstairs.”

“Good night, son.”

“Good night.”

Bull opened the door of his bedroom in time to see Tracy pulling one of his old T-shirts on over the panties she wore.

She turned around, reprimanding him with those beautiful eyes as she pulled her damp hair out from beneath the collar and shook it loose down her back. Yep, he had it bad for this one. “Don’t you knock?”

“My bedroom,” he reminded her, shrugging out of his holster and laying his gun out of the way on the dresser. He set his badge down next to it and untucked the tails of his shirt.

“Oh.” She gathered up her wet towel and dirty clothes. “Justice sent me up to this room to change. I guess he thought we...” Her skin blushed pink around the bruise on her cheek and the bandage on her neck. “I remember where the guest room is. End of the hall, right?”

Bull caught her with one arm as she made a beeline for the door. “You’re bunking here tonight.”

Without further discussion, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed, dumping the laundry on the floor and sitting beside her to pull his boots off his feet. One hit the floor, then the other. He stood to unbutton his shirt and peel it off over his rebandaged arm.

“Virgil?” She curled her knees beneath her and sat up. “What are you doing?”

The shirt joined his boots and he crawled into bed beside her. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her soft warmth close to his chest. “Even if all we do is sleep, blue eyes, I’m going to hold you in my arms tonight.”

Those blue eyes sought out his. “Why?”

“Because I need to. Because I love you. Because leaving the J-Bar-J—and you—behind in Texas was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. And this teacher I know taught me to be a smarter man.”

Tracy smiled, winding her arm around his waist and holding on like she meant it. “Are you finally coming home to me—to where you belong, Virgil McCabe?”

With a slow nod, he sealed her in his arms, holding on just as tight. “I’m coming home.”

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