Chapter Eleven
Nix
S etting Shauna’s fence upright on his way out only took a few minutes. It was so flimsy Nix couldn’t figure out what purpose it served.
He’d parked the ranch truck one street over. A thin frost rimed the windshield, and he set the defrost on high. Once a patch large enough to see through had cleared, he headed for home.
Spending the evening with Shauna had left him in a good mood—partly because of the sex, but mostly because she managed to turn unexpected interruptions into adventures.
She’d led him through the dark house to the patio door with the stealth of a cat burglar that would put Remi to shame, then lingered over a kiss goodbye on the deck that left him longing to start the whole evening over.
He frowned at the black pavement through the widening circle of glass on the windshield. They hadn’t made plans for a next time. It had been an oversight on his part. What about hers?
Wondering put a pin in his good mood. Their arrangement, which suited him fine, nevertheless had its flaws.
He couldn’t very well hang around her house every night, waiting to see if Taryn went out.
Maybe he should invest in a phone, but even if he did, cell service on the range, where he spent most of his days, ran on hope and a prayer.
The bunkhouse was dark when he tiptoed inside, as expected, given it was a few hours shy of dawn.
He didn’t turn on a light, but someone rolled over in their bunk and cast aspersions on his birthright as he tossed his jeans over a chair and crawled into bed.
He fell asleep almost at once and didn’t wake up until the lure of freshly brewed coffee was too strong to ignore.
No one ever really got to sleep in, not even on their day off.
“You had a phone call while you were out,” Handy said when Nix strolled into the kitchen. “Your wife again. She said she’ll call you again this morning at seven. Something about flight plans and arrival times.”
“Ex-wife.” Nix didn’t know why he bothered. Maybe he was reminding himself.
And there went the last of his good mood. He poured himself a large mug of coffee. It was barely five thirty. He could be well out in the badlands long before she called back.
Funny how things could change. He’d once loved Peg, probably more than was healthy.
Spending time with Shauna was the exact opposite of his marriage.
He enjoyed simply being around her. There was no stress.
No worrying about saying or doing something that might set her off.
No sense that he had to be or do better.
He liked his life the way it was now. He liked the physical labor, and the long hours spent outdoors.
He liked having no mortgage or loans or other bills to contend with.
Social media? No interest. He’d never be able to sit at a desk all day, every day, the way Shauna did.
He even liked that they had only one thing in common.
Speaking of that one thing…
He added a generous helping of cream to his coffee, the spoon clinking the sides of the chunky white mug as he stirred. What would he think—how would he feel—if he and Shauna switched places right now, and she was the one standing here, waiting for her ex-husband to call?
Since he was sliding into home plate, as Taryn put it, then yeah. He was with Remi on that. He did think sex with a woman gave him certain rights. But it gave Shauna rights, too. He’d been cheated on and it sucked.
Maybe he should stick around for that phone call with Peg. Her flight schedules—or anything else that went on in her life—were not his concern anymore. She’d made that decision. Not him.
He’d finish his coffee, hop in the shower, then go get some breakfast while waiting.
The cookhouse was sandwiched between the bunkhouses and the barns.
He trod the gravel path that joined all the buildings.
Sunshine had burned the frost off the grass and the trees, leaving the air sharp and fresh.
The group home boys ate breakfast later than the ranch hands, who were long gone by now, but the boys each had their morning chores to attend to, so they were also up early.
Inside, the cookhouse smelled of frying bacon and potatoes, fresh bread, and coffee.
It operated cafeteria-style, with a glass counter, and five tables that could seat twenty people in total, although rarely did.
He picked up a tray at the counter and loaded it with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, then took his tray to one of the round tables.
The window seat gave him a view of the room and the barns.
Three teenagers ate at one table. Remi sat off by himself at another.
He glowered at the world in general and Nix in particular.
Nix experienced a deep resignation. He and Remi were going to have words over Trouble, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.
While Remi wasn’t all bad, the reality was, the boy was a wildcard with a bad attitude.
He was at the Endeavour Ranch because he’d had serious run-ins with the law.
Nix hadn’t been given the details—the kids had a right to their privacy—but he’d been warned to keep a close watch on him.
Nix was finishing his last strip of bacon when a lump in his pocket caught his attention. He pulled it out to see what it was, then quickly shoved it out of sight.
Shauna’s panties.
He’d said he was taking them with him to see how far he could wind her up, then forgotten about them because the night had taken a Dear Penthouse turn. He wasn’t about to give them back now.
Remi kicked his chair back and stormed out, leaving his tray on the table.
Fifteen minutes to seven. Nix dropped his tray in the dirty dish bin at the end of the counter and began to mentally prepare for the upcoming conversation with Peg. He’d hear her out first, then let her know once and for all that her problems were no longer his.
Remi waited outside, shoulders hunched into his leather jacket and the collar turned up to his ears. If he thought this was cold, he had an unpleasant surprise coming in a few weeks.
“Whatcha got in your pocket?” Remi asked, his eyes hot.
“What business is it of yours?” Nix fired back. No way could he have been able to identify that they were panties. Nix hadn’t held the small wad of colorful fabric up for inspection.
Remi’s expression turned ugly. “She’s seventeen, you asshole. She’s a kid . That’s why it’s my business.” He gave Nix a shove.
Nix, caught by surprise, staggered a step backward before regaining his footing. What the actual—
Remi thought those panties were Taryn’s?
How ever Remi had reached that conclusion, Nix did not want to know details.
Remi took a swing at him. This time, Nix was ready for it. He grabbed the teen’s wrist, wrenched his arm upward behind his back, and frog-marched him into the toolshed. They didn’t need the whole ranch to see this.
He shoved Remi against the wall and got in his face.
“Listen up, because I’ll say this once. Whatever Taryn told you about me isn’t true.
I don’t know why she enjoys winding you up, other than that you’re an easy mark, but there it is.
You, my stupid young friend, are being played.
Sort out your lady problems on your own. Leave me out of it.”
“If she’s lying, then why do you have a pair of her panties?” Remi’s eyes narrowed. “You wanted me to see them. That’s why you took them out of your pocket while I was watching.”
Great. Fantastic. The sisters shared the same taste in lawn-jer-ay. He couldn’t go there in his head. His mind’s eye would go blind.
His patience expired. “Has it occurred to you that maybe women shop at the same stores? It’s not as if there’s a lot of options in Grand,” he said.
The fire died in Remi’s eyes, although some embers remained. He wanted to believe Nix, which was a good first step. “She says you’re smashing. Why else would I pop off? If you weren’t with her, then where were you last night?”
Remi was jealous enough to try and keep track of Nix’s movements. Thankfully, he had a curfew—strictly enforced—so there was no way he could know where Nix had been. Not for sure.
“None of your damn business,” Nix said. “But let me give you a bit of advice. If you can’t figure out yet that Trouble enjoys grinding your gears, then there’s no hope for you.
She’ll drag you around by your nose hairs for the rest of your life if you don’t put a stop to it now.
I tell you this from personal experience. ”
Speaking of personal experience, it was five after seven. Chances were good that he’d missed Peggy’s call—which might be for the best, because Remi’s situation served as an excellent reminder that his nose hairs were also endangered.
He didn’t have to wait around to take calls from Peg. He didn’t need to jump when she said to. This was his day off and he could do as he pleased. He’d grab a wrapped lunch, saddle a horse, and head out for a ride. He wasn’t finished with Remi yet, though.
“One more thing—you take a swing at me again and you’d better make damn sure of your facts. You might want to bring a few friends. Otherwise, I’ll kick your ass from Grand to the Canadian border,” he said.
He stalked to the bunkhouse. Handy was putting his boots on. It was his day to keep the juvenile delinquents out of trouble. He was doing a lousy job of it, too.
“Missed your call,” Handy said. “Your wife’s gonna get the idea you don’t want to talk.”
Nix gave up on trying to correct him. He knew Peg’s status.
Shauna did too. And that was what mattered.