Chapter Thirty
T ucker felt as if he’d been under fierce pressure since he’d gotten dressed for tonight.
He’d spent the day with Jackson and Nic, helping them help Nic’s dad repair a corral fence one of his famed Black Angus had managed to take down while scratching an itch.
He’d spent a lot of it imagining the shock of some Hollywood types—the Swiffer in particular—to see that their fake cowboy had become a genuine one.
But then the talk had turned to tonight, and the upcoming performance by local boy turned national music sensation Kane Highwater.
Richard, Nic’s dad, said both he and his wife were going, along with enough other Last Stand folks that the Buckleys had had to move the show outside, since even the biggest room at the Hickory Creek Inn couldn’t hold the crowd.
“Fate’s a crazy thing,” Richard said. “And that boy’s story is one of the craziest.”
By the time they’d finished the fence he’d been tired, but decided that was a good thing if it would keep him from getting too wound up.
He’d gone back to the pleasant little wing of the Baylors’ main house that was now his—the place that had once been Nic’s before Jackson had come along and upended her life—to shower and change.
All the while suspecting there had been some behind-the-scenes manipulating going on when he found out the Baylors were all riding with Jackson and Nic and Jeremy, filling up the car since they’d need the back for Mrs. Baylor’s wheelchair.
“Since you’ve already got a ride with Emily,” Nic had explained, sounding a bit too happy about it.
It only made sense that Emily would drive, given she knew where they were going and he didn’t. Besides, this had been her idea. Which he hadn’t been able to say no to.
“Lobo’s going?” he asked when she arrived and saw the dog in her civilian car, a smaller version of the SUV she drove on duty.
“He loves Kane’s music.” Tucker thought she was kidding, but she shook her head. “His tail starts wagging any time he comes on when I’ve got music streaming. Besides, Frank said he’d welcome Lobo being there, given the size the crowd’s apparently going to be.”
“Wait, so you’re working tonight?”
“Nope, just being a good citizen, there and available.” She smiled. “Lobo knows when he’s off duty. And now he wants to say hello, so you’d better get in.”
He did, and was greeted with a happy whine and a swipe of pink tongue over his cheek.
It made him chuckle, then reach back to stroke the dog’s head.
He could hear the rhythmic thumps of a powerful tail hitting the back seat as it wagged.
He felt a little like he guessed Jeremy must feel.
There was something about a dog being glad to see you…
Then Emily was getting into the driver’s seat. She even did that gracefully.
“From what Frank said, there are going to be some big donations going out after tonight,” she said as she started the vehicle, and they headed for the gate.
“Donations?”
“Kane gives everything he gets from this show back to Last Stand. He covers the inn’s expenses, and the rest goes to local charities. Including—” she nodded toward the attentive animal in the back seat “—Chance Rafferty’s nonprofit that helps dogs like Lobo.”
Tucker gave a slow shake of his head. “This place is really something.”
“It’s a great hometown,” Emily said. “You should try it.”
“I am,” he answered, for the first time admitting that he was, mentally at least, trying on the idea of staying. “I just…I don’t want Jackson to pay for me to do it.”
She gave him a sideways look as she pulled to a halt at the road. “I thought he was paying you to help him with the therapy operation?”
He shrugged. “He is. I’m just not sure I’m doing enough to earn what he’s paying. And the Baylors are letting me stay in Nic’s old place, now that she and Jackson are together, and they won’t take any rent.”
“What a cranky bunch we Last Standers are,” she said, in a dramatic tone that made him chuckle despite himself.
Once they were out on the road, she made a right and picked up speed.
They went through one of the flood warning dips in the road, then started on a stretch that looked straight for a while.
She made another turn onto what he knew now was the Hickory Creek Spur.
Soon they were out of Last Stand proper, and into wider open spaces.
And it wasn’t too long before she turned onto what looked like a long driveway that wound through thick trees.
They passed a carved wooden sign that said “Hickory Creek Inn, Bed and Breakfast.”
Then up ahead, in the middle of a swath of well-tended lawn now covered with a temporary stage, rows of folding chairs, and blankets for sitting on the grass, he saw a big, white house.
It was two-stories high with wide, wraparound porches, shaded by the trees along the creek he could see on the far side.
But the most distinctive thing about it was the tower that went up at least another story, and looked as if it would give you a view for hundreds of miles.
“There’s a big room inside,” Emily said, “where they serve breakfast to the guests. It overlooks the creek, and opens out onto the deck for bigger functions. That’s where Kane did his first ever show, after his wife, Lark, did a lot of convincing.
I’m sure she’ll be here. She used to work for Child Protective Services, and now she and Kane foster kids. ”
That startled him. “Kane Highwater is a foster dad?”
“He is, and a darned good one, too. I’ve steered a couple of kids his way since they started. You should hear his story.” She give him a sideways look. “Maybe you especially.”
He didn’t have time to wonder what she meant by that for long, because once they were parked and out of the car, things started to happen fast. If you were judging by the number of people delighted to see her, it’d be clear Emily was liked and respected in Last Stand.
She took him inside and introduced him to their hosts, Frank and Karina Buckley.
“And this is Lobo,” she added, and the older man smiled.
“One of Chance Rafferty’s dogs, right?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir. He’s working out beautifully for us.”
“Figures,” Buckley said with a grin. He turned to look at Tucker assessingly, then smiled. “Buddy of mine worked with your dad. He was a good, good man.”
“I…” Stunned, he had to stop and swallow to loosen up his throat. He got a lot of people who wanted to talk about his accident in the arena, but rarely anyone who mentioned his dad. And to have even a one-step-removed connection never happened. “Thank you,” he finally managed to get out.
The man nodded as if he understood what he was feeling.
“He was a Texas Ranger, and forced to retire after an injury to his gun hand,” Emily said quietly as the man turned to greet another arrival.
He’d noticed the twisted and seemingly stiff fingers and could see where that would make being a Ranger impossible.
“He could have taken a desk job, but turning this place, the old Buckley ranch, into a bed-and-breakfast had been his wife’s dream for years. He figured she’d earned it after being married to him—and his job—for nearly a quarter century.”
Someone came up behind them and snuck an arm around Emily. She laughed, so he guessed she’d heard or sensed him coming, which was more than he could say; it was all he could do not to jump, startled.
“And there’s the man of the hour,” she said, hugging the guy back. “Kane Highwater, meet Tucker Culhane.”
He was startled, mainly because this guy didn’t look like any of the other Highwaters he’d met.
He was lean, wiry, and quick-moving, and instead of the blue of the rest of the clan he’d met, his eyes were a striking combination of gold and green.
And even Tucker, who didn’t pay much attention to what other guys looked like, had to admit the guy probably had every female around swooning.
Including Emily?
No, he answered himself silently. That had been a sisterly kind of hug, nothing more.
They shook hands, Kane saying, “My brother’s mentioned you. Y’know, her boss,” he said with a quick grin at Emily. “He thinks we oughta talk.”
Tucker blinked. “He does?”
“Yeah. And nobody in Last Stand crosses Shane if they can help it.”
“Amen,” Emily said. “Why don’t you two go have that talk. I need to go find Karina and see if there’s anything I can do. You’re bringing in bigger crowds every year, my friend. We’re going to need to build an arena just for your local shows.”
The other man laughed. Tucker felt a little strange, thinking there were a whole lot of people who’d give anything for a few minutes to talk with this guy. He could think of at least a half-dozen back in L.A.
“Look,” Kane said when they were in a small office behind the registration counter of the inn, “this is probably coming out of left field, but…thank my brother and Emily. And don’t blame her, because my brother can worm anything out of anyone.”
Uh-oh. He instinctively took a step back.
“I’m not going to pry,” Kane assured him. “Just let me…tell you something.” He took a deep enough breath that Tucker could see this wasn’t easy for him, either. It was enough that he didn’t turn and walk away.
“Okay,” he said slowly, still hesitant.
“I don’t know if you know this, but I spent twelve years on the run, from the time I was sixteen. With the cops after me, hunting me down.”
Tucker drew back sharply. “No. I didn’t know. Hunting you for what?”
Kane took another deep breath. “Killing my father. My father, the cop.”
Tucker’s eyes widened, and he could feel his jaw drop. Words were beyond him.
“For twelve years I ran, believing I’d done it.”
“Your father…he was a chief here, too, wasn’t he?”
“He was. But…on that day I’d just found out wasn’t really my father.
Not my biological one, anyway. And I got so mad I pushed him away from me.
Hard. And ran. Then later I heard he’d been hit by a truck in the street…
right where I’d shoved him. So I kept running.
I was young and scared and had nightmares about what would happen if they caught me.
And nightmares about the man I’d loved all my life, under false pretenses. Or so I thought.”
“They weren’t false?”
“Not in the ways that mattered. But at that age…let’s just say I let my fear and anger corrupt all my memories, until I had things lodged in my brain as reality that had in fact never really happened at all.
So I kept running. Then Sean put that brain of his to work and figured out what I remembered wasn’t what happened, that it hadn’t been my fault, that that memory was logistically impossible. ”
Tucker just stared at the man. “Damn.”
“Yeah. I was too young and stupid to realize what being a father really was, and that Steven Highwater had been more of a father to me than a lot of kids ever had. He never treated me any differently than the others, he took care of me, encouraged me, and…”
“Did all the things you’re doing for other kids now?” Tucker suggested.
“Yeah,” Kane said, smiling now. “Seems like the best thing I could do, to…repay him.” Then, holding Tucker’s gaze, he said with an emotion so clearly genuine it tugged at him, “I’m just saying that…
having a father like that and losing him, no matter how, sucks.
In a big way. But I finally figured out the truth, that if you loved them and they loved you, the best thing you can do in their honor is just keep going.
Try and make them proud of you, and hope that somehow they know it. ”
Someone called out Kane’s name, telling him his sister-in-law was here for that interview he’d promised. It took Tucker a moment to realize that meant Lily Highwater.
“Good luck with that,” he muttered.
“Already poured my guts out with her a couple of years ago. But then, you know all about how that works.”
Kane was grinning now, and Tucker laughingly swore at him to shut up. The now-famous singer-songwriter turned to go, but then looked back.
“If you’ve got Emily on your side, you’re a lucky man.”
Then he was gone, and Tucker just stood there, not quite sure how he felt about…anything.