The Cattleman (Sons of Texas Book 2) (2 page)

Grandma gave a breathy little
laugh and spoke in her reedy li’l-old-lady voice. “That’s all right, darlin’. I almost
am
a hundred years old.

Dismissed, Dad
threw up his hands and returned to his own seat.

Kate dug her phone from her purse and began to text
furtively. Outside the entrance to the club, a sign asked members and guests to turn off their cell phones. Pic heaved a silent sigh.

“What have you been doing?” she asked Troy absently, her eyes on the phone’s screen, her fingers darting over it.
“I hope you haven’t been in the bar getting drunk.”

Troy leaned toward her and said in a low tone, “I’m cool, Baby Sister. You be cool, too.
And turn off your cell phone. Can’t you read signs?”

Kate clapped the phone down beside her place setting. “Don’t tell me what to do.
I’m not your baby sister.”

“Sure you are. You’re three months younger than I am. That makes you the baby.”

Pic winced inside. Troy had come to live at the Double-Barrel when he was eight. Kate, too was eight. The two of them had grown up side-by-side, almost like twins, but Pic fervently hoped nobody would be rehashing that story today.

Kate glowered at him. “Don’t say that. You know Mama doesn’t appreciate hearing it.”

“C’mon, you two. Knock it off,” Pic growled.

Kate crossed her arms over her chest and pushed out her bottom lip in a pout, as if she were nine instead of twenty-nine.

Mom dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, the dime-sized diamond wedding ring she wore on her right hand glinting from the light of the chandelier.

“Oh, M
ama, stop it,” Kate said. “I know Drake’s your pet, but he’s a grown man.”

“Dammit, Betty,
will you stop bawling?” Dad said. “There’s nothing to cry about.”

Mom sniffed deeply. “I can’t help it. He’s marrying a slut and a gold-digger.
I’m sure she would’ve been happy with a check. He should’ve written her one and been done with it.”

“
Horseshit,” Dad said. “You don’t know any of that.”

Dad’s tongue wasn’t usually so loose when Grandma was around. Apparently, he had gotten into the Jack Daniel’s early. Pic sighed again.

“I know more than you do,” Mom said on a sniffle. “You’d be more concerned yourself if you had bothered to read the report.” She dabbed at her eyes again.

The “report”
had come from a private detective that Mom and one of Drake’s old girlfriends had teamed up and hired to investigate Drake’s bride, thus Drake’s rage at their mother. As late as yesterday, he was still mad enough to bite a nail in half.

“I don’t intend to read it,” Dad said. “
It’s like Kate said, Betty. He’s a grown man. Old enough to lay in the bed he’s made.” He craned his neck, looking for the waiter.

“Well, Mister Know-It-All,
” Mom said. “I happen to believe there’s a reason she got herself pregnant.”

“Last I knew, Betty, women don’t get
themselves pregnant. It’s not a solo event.”

Troy leaned in Pic’s direction and whispered, “Point
for Dad.”

“Shut up. Don’t agitate,” Pic said, although s
ometimes Mom did make him want to gnaw on the woodwork himself.

“You know what I mean,” Mom
carped. “I’ll bet anything you want to name there’s no prenuptial agreement.”

“What the hell difference does it make now?” Dad growled. “The woman’s already knocked up.
With our grandchild, I might add. I thought you wanted grandkids.”

“
I do, under the right circumstances. The problem with our boys, Bill Junior, is they’re too much like you. They think with what dangles between their legs.”

Pic’s eyes bugged and he shot a look at Grandma who sipped contentedly at her Manhattan, as if Mom hadn’t just insulted the whole family.

“I wouldn’t be surprised to see this…this”—Mom flipped a palm in the air—“this whole thing turn into an expensive fiasco. Just like with that tramp Pic married.”

Pic
’s gut clenched. Not one person in his family, especially not his mother, ever considered that he had been in love with his former wife. All he had heard from them for years was what a gold-digger Lucianne had been and how much his divorce had cost him and the family. “His stupid act of immaturity” Mom called his former marriage.

Dad pointed his finger at
Mom’s face. “Betty, shut up. And when Drake gets here, I don’t want to hear one damn word about a prenuptial agreement.”

Prenuptial agreement
. In Pic’s mind, the two words lit up like a sign on a cheap motel, which was exactly where he had found his ex-wife in bed with a horse groomer. After being so rudely reminded, how could he not think about his own elopement without the benefit of such a document?

For sure, most of the family
recalled what had happened when he had gotten divorced. The hefty diamond ring he had bought his bride, which had gone with her when she left him, and the divorce settlement less than two years later had taken a sizeable chunk of his trust fund, plus a bite out of the family coffers. To this day, an anvil of guilt weighted his shoulders about that.

Toying with his silverware,
Pic glanced at his watch again.

Grandma
spoke up. “I don’t know why everybody’s so unhappy. We ought to be glad Drake found somebody to marry. He’s thirty-five years old. I was starting to wonder if something was wrong with him.”

“
Leave it to Grandma to drill straight to the heart of a matter,” Troy mumbled.

“Yep,” Pic agreed. “The queen of saying
something nobody wants to hear, especially if you give her some liquor. Kate must’ve inherited that trait from her.”

“We’re all happy, Mother,” Dad assured her.

“Well I’m not happy,” Mom said to Grandma. “I promise you, Sarah, I am not happy.”

“
We get that, Mama,” Kate snapped. “I don’t know why we don’t just leave Drake alone. Coming here for a big dinner he doesn’t even want to be at is such a bunch of BS. And it kept me from being at the futurity finals in Houston.”

Kate
bred, raised and trained cutting horses. She spent half their time hauling them to cutting competitions somewhere. Sometimes one of them won a few bucks, though not as much as they cost. Breeding fees were what kept her small ranch going. The blood of champions coursed through the veins of her horses. Horse owners from everywhere brought their mares to breed with Kate’s studs. She personally collected and sent frozen semen all over the country, in spite of Mom’s constant rebuke about the “unladylike” practice of playing with horse’s privates.

Their mother
placed a hand on Kate’s forearm and gave her a pleading look. “Kathryn, darling, please don’t—”

Kate stopped her by pulling her arm away. Little Sister and Mom had never been pals
. Kate blamed Mom for their parents’ marital problems. But then, they all blamed Mom. And her latest stunt was a good example why. Pic couldn’t imagine how he would feel if their mother did something to him like she had done to Drake. Mom believed he should be seeking a mate with more social status than Mandy and she mentioned it often, but Pic ignored her. A wedding wasn’t in his plans for his future. He might never get married again.

Their father’s laser blue gaze pierced Kate. “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk at this table
, young lady. This is your brother’s wedding day. Show some respect. He’s done a lot for you. Even now, he’s trying to pry the money for your barn out of that second-rate insurance company that damned lowlife Palmer hooked you up with. God knows if he’ll have any luck.”

Jordan Palmer
was Kate’s former fiancé who the whole family thought to be nothing but a gigolo.

On a huff, Kate
got to her feet and marched away. To the ladies’ room, Pic hoped, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she left the party. Little Sister was a blond beauty who had never met a convention she didn’t hate or a horse she didn’t love and she felt the same way about quite a few cowboys. Spoiled, for sure. Mom was the only person in the family who had ever tried to hobble her. Dad doted on his only daughter, thus she did what she damn well pleased most of the time.

“What the hell’s wrong with her?” Troy asked. “She thinks Drake hung the moon. Why would she bitch about showing up at his wedding dinner?”

“Beats me,” Pic said. “You’re the one who hangs out with her.”

So much for a joyous occasion
with the brawling Lockharts. But then, that was the way the Lockharts were. And always had been. They loved one another fiercely, stood shoulder–to-shoulder in a crisis, but they fought each other fiercely, too.

Chapter 2

Drake finally
appeared in the dining room’s wide doorway, holding his hat. Having spotted them first, Pic left his chair and strode toward them. On his arm was a gorgeous redhead. No surprise there. Drake had never taken up with ugly women.

Pic
grinned until his face hurt. “Hey, Bro.” He stepped back, still grinning, and shook Drake’s hand. “Big day. Congratulations.”

Drake picked up the hand of the woman beside him and Pic
saw the plain gold band on his left ring finger. A spike of adrenaline shot through his mid-section.
Jesus!
His heart swelled with an emotion he couldn’t name.

“Pic, this is my wife, Shannon
.” Drake spoke softly, still looking at his bride with an expression Pic could only describe as cow-eyed.

She looked back at him for a few seconds.
The sentiment that passed between them was palpable, almost like a living thing. Pic was astonished. Troy’s words rushed in.
…he oughtta be able to keep from getting trapped….

Drake
didn’t look as if he had been trapped. In fact, he looked like he was in another fuckin’ world. He looked like a man ass-over-teakettle in love, which in a weird way, made him seem like a stranger.

Pic
bent his head awkwardly—his new sister-in-law was more than a foot shorter than he—and brushed cheeks with her. Her scent came to him, sexy and feminine. “Glad to meet you, ma’am. I’m looking forward to us getting acquainted.”

She responded with a dazzling smile. “Thank you.
I’m looking forward to it, too. Please call me Shannon.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pic said, captivated by the clarity of her green eyes and the way she made him feel as if all of her attention w
ere focused on him.

A small elderly woman stood to her side and she turned to her
and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Grammy, this is Drake’s younger brother, Pic.” To Pic, she said, “This is my grandmother, Evelyn Piper. She lives in Camden.”

The tiny woman was dressed up
. Had she been present at the wedding ceremony? The woman put out a tiny hand. “How do you do? I remember your grandfather. I swear, you do look like him.”

Whoa!
A member of Drake’s wife’s family had known their grandfather? Pic barely remembered the man himself. He carefully shook her fragile hand. “Uh, thank you, ma’am. I’ve heard people say that before. You knew him?”

“My late husband and he were acquainted.”

By now, the rest of the family had surrounded them and air kissing and hugging and introductions were going on. A few minutes later, Dad started to steer all of them to the table and that was when Pic noticed that Mom had remained in her seat while the rest of the family had greeted the new Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart in the doorway.

Pic lagged behind, leaned in and
whispered in Drake’s ear. “Mom’s here. Dad insisted.”

“No
worries,” Drake said. “As long as she keeps her mouth shut.”

A crease formed on Drake’s new wife’s
smooth brow. “Drake, please don’t quarrel with—”

“
It’s all good, darlin’,” he told her. “Let’s just go eat.”

Pic guided Drake to the chair to his right
. While Drake seated his wife beside himself, Pic seated the elderly Mrs. Piper. Grandma immediately started up a conversation with her, but Mom sat silent as a statue.

Dad had arranged for champagne to be served as soon as the bride and groom arrived, so he picked up his glass and did himself proud in an emotional toast to Drake, then to the couple and their coming child. He
yanked his handkerchief from his back pocket and patted his eye, then enthusiastically welcomed Shannon into the family.

Mom stared at her plate and toyed with her glass stem.

A prime rib dinner and empty chatter followed.

“
Y’all planning on living in Fort Worth?” Pic asked Drake, who, the last he had heard, lived in a condo on the twenty-eighth floor of his own exclusive development in the middle of downtown Fort Worth.

“Camden. Shannon’s going to continue her business.”

“Hey, cool,” Troy said. “You’ll be closer to the ranch. Maybe we’ll see more of you.”