The Twin

Ben grinned

“You’re a beautiful woman, Sunny Outlaw Payton, both inside and out, and I’m a lucky man to be with you.”

Electricity seemed to crackle and hiss between them as his eyes caressed her face. She had no idea about any long-term relationship with Ben, but she didn’t want to think about that now.

She wanted only to savor tonight.

She wanted to feel the warmth and comfort and passion of a man again.

Of Ben.

Dear Reader,

So many folks who have enjoyed the Outlaw family stories have asked if there aren’t any more Outlaws around. Well, I investigated and, by golly, found that Uncle Butch Cassidy Outlaw, who was a Texas State senator, had a couple of secrets, including twin daughters none of his family knew about. The Twin is the first of two stories about these sisters, who run Chili Witches Café in Austin.

Naturally it’s Sam Bass Outlaw from The Texas Ranger (AR, May 2007) who first meets his cousin Sunny, and, wouldn’t you know, he happens to stop in to have a bowl of chili with another Texas Ranger, Ben McKee. (I’ve told you before that I’m a sucker for tall, handsome Texas Ranger heroes.) Sunny and Ben are perfect together, but even with the senator’s help, it takes a while for them to realize that.

Austin is a wonderful town, laid-back and mellow, and rich in history as the state’s capital. It’s also famous for its music scene, and I’ve added some of that flavor for you to sample, as well.

Now, I’m not allowed to share Chili Witches’ recipe, but for those of you who like Texas chili, the recipe is quite similar to several recent winners of the Terlingua International Chili Championship. TICC 2008 winner Susan Dean’s entry would give you a good approximation. www.chili.org/terlingua.html.

Enjoy!

Jan Hudson

The Twin

Jan Hudson

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jan Hudson, a former college psychology teacher, is a RITA® Award-winning author of thirty books, a crackerjack hypnotist, a dream expert, a blue-ribbon flower arranger and a fairly decent bridge player. Her most memorable experience was riding a camel to visit the Sphinx and climbing the Great Pyramid in Egypt. A native Texan whose ancestors settled in Nacogdoches when Texas was a republic, she loves to write about the variety of colorful characters who populate the Lone Star State, unique individuals who celebrate life with a “howdy” and “y’all come.” Jan and her husband currently reside in Austin, and she loves to hear from readers. E-mail her at [e-mail].

For my own Ben,

a hero in the making, and

with special thanks to Jan Yonkin,

Tracy Wolff, Lexi Connor and April Kihlstrom

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter One

Ten-thirty on Monday night, and it was past closing time at Texas Chili Witches Café. Sunny Payton closed out the register while the late staff, dressed in their jeans and red Chili Witches T-shirts, bussed the tables and cleaned the kitchen. Coming off a twelve-hour shift, she was bone tired, her feet ached and she was ready to go upstairs and soak in an herbal-scented bath for about a week and a half.

After she stowed the receipts in the office safe, she let her employees out the back door, calling good-night and seeing they all got in their cars safely.

“Jeff, I want to hear that you aced your chem test,” she said to a tall, lanky blond.

He grinned. “You’re as bad as my mama.”

“Worse,” she said, grinning back. “A million times worse.”

Most of the staff were students from the University of Texas, working flex hours to pay for those cars or buy books, which were outrageous these days, even more costly than when she was in school nearly a dozen years ago. The cooks had left earlier, one of the perks of their job. The students came and went, but the cooks and a couple of others were longtime employees. Many of them had worked for her mother and Aunt Min when they ran the place.

Sunny checked the kitchen, then made a last trip through the two dining areas with the scarred, red-topped tables and rough cedar walls filled with Texas memorabilia, funny signs and assorted collectibles. The kitschy wall decor was swapped out occasionally, and the computer and register were state-of-the-art, but not much else had changed for as long as she could remember.

She was reaching for the light switch when she saw him.

Her heart lurched as it always did. He sat at his usual corner table, a cup of coffee near his hand.

“Hello, Senator.”

“Hello, Sunny.” He smiled. “Busy day?”

She nodded and sat down beside him. “Very. We had a little cold snap today, and everybody in Austin was in the mood for chili. It’s supposed to be back up to ninety by the weekend, so things will be manageable again. I haven’t seen you for a while.”

He smiled. “Miss me?”

“I always miss you, Senator.”

“How’s your sister?”

“Cass is settling in and doing well. It’s good to have her home. Now she and I can share the work, and Mom has finally been able to retire completely.”

“That’s good. I’ll have to drop in on Cassidy.”

Sunny laughed. “You do, and you’ll scare the pants off her.”

He smiled. “It’s good to hear you laugh again.”

“Oh, I laugh a lot these days.”

“Glad to hear it. Maybe now you’re ready to meet a special fellow.”

She shook her head. “I already did. Brian. He was special. I don’t need anyone else.” And she didn’t. Brian was the love of her life. When he’d died, a part of her had died, as well.

“Honey, it’s been three years since—”

“Sunny!” her sister yelled from the back.

“Sounds like Cassidy,” the Senator said, tenderness filling his eyes.

“Ignore her.” Sunny absently reached to touch his arm. As usual, her hand only touched the table.

“Your sister is tough to ignore.”

“Who are you talking to?” Cassidy asked as she charged into the room.

“The Senator.”

Cass rolled her eyes. “Oh, gawd! Not that again. I just got home from the play and decided I want a beer.” She walked behind the small bar and grabbed a mug. “Want one?”

“You know I hate beer.”

Cass drew a draft and joined Sunny at the table.

“How was the play?”

“Fantastic!”

“How was the date?”

“Abysmal. He had an ego the size of Texas and a brain the size of Rhode Island. If I ever agree to another blind date, tie me to a chair.”

Sunny laughed and glanced toward the Senator.

He was gone.

And so was his cup.

Wonder what had prompted his visit? With him, one never knew.

Chapter Two

At noon on Wednesday, Sunny was helping clear a couple of empty tables when she spotted two very tall guys hanging their white ten-gallons on the hat rack by the door. When they turned around, she sucked in a little gasp—and she rarely did that, but these two were unusually good-looking men. Texas Rangers by the looks of the silver badges on their dress shirts and the narrowed cop eyes that quickly scanned the room.

As she approached, the dark-haired one grinned and said, “Boy howdy, it smells good in here.”

The sandy-haired one only smiled slightly, dipped his head and stared at her with the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. Taken aback by their color and the intensity of his look, an odd feeling flashed over her.

She forced herself to break eye contact. “And everything tastes as good as it smells. First time at Chili Witches?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the dark-haired one said, “but I ’spect it won’t be the last if your chili is as good as I’ve heard it is.”

“Count on it,” Sunny said. “It’s an old family recipe we’ve been making here for over forty years. We have mild, medium and ‘hotter than hell,’ as well as a vegetarian version. Don’t try the ‘hotter than hell’ unless you have a well-seasoned mouth and a cast-iron belly. Grab any table that suits you. The one in the corner is free.”

The men looked at each other. “Anywhere you want is fine with me,” the sandy-haired one said. “You like to keep your back to the wall, Outlaw?”

“You betcha.”

The men started for the corner table, but Sunny stopped in her tracks. Outlaw? It was not a common name, but not that unusual, either. Although she rarely heard it. Was it possible…? Nah.

She followed them to the table as they sat down. Picking up two menus wedged between the sugar dispenser and a black minicaldron of saltine packets, she handed them to the Rangers. “Your server will be with you in a minute. May I get you something to drink?”

“Iced tea would be mighty nice,” the dark-haired one said. He was a charmer. A married charmer by the looks of his shiny gold ring.

“Iced tea for me, too,” said Green Eyes as he gave her the once-over.

His left hand was bare. Not that his marital state mattered to Sunny one way or another. She wasn’t in the market for a man. But she had to admit his slow perusal revved her motor just a little. Just her pesky hormones acting up, she decided as she hurried to the drink station. She ignored the ominous tingle rising along her spine, the one that usually warned of some momentous or unusual happening.

The Senator suddenly materialized behind the bar. “Mighty nice-looking young fellow,” he said.

“Which one?” she asked, being careful to keep her back to the room.

“Both of them, but I was thinking of the green-eyed one for you.”

She made a snort. “Forget that,” she muttered out of the side of her mouth. “Don’t meddle in my love life.”

He smiled. “What love life?”

When she headed back to the table with their tea, the one called Outlaw was staring at her and frowning.

“Is something wrong?” Sunny asked.

“No, no. Everything’s just fine, but I’m trying to remember where I know you from. Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so,” Sunny said.

“You sure look familiar.”

“Maybe I just have one of those faces.” She ought to let it drop and leave, but a funny little feeling tickled the back of her neck. She just had to ask. “Did I hear you’re called Outlaw?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Sam Bass Outlaw at your service.”

What felt like a five-pound rock hit her stomach and bounced. “Sam Bass Outlaw?”

“That’s me. My granddaddy was big on all his descendants having the names of famous outlaws. He claimed it was good name recognition for anyone in business or politics—or law enforcement. I’ve got three brothers and a sister all named for shady characters and all in some kind of law enforcement—except my sister, and she used to be an FBI agent before she quit and bought a newspaper. There’s Cole Younger Outlaw, Jesse James Outlaw, Frank James Outlaw, and Belle Starr Outlaw. My daddy was John Wesley Hardin Outlaw, and his brother was—”

“Butch Cassidy Outlaw,” Sunny finished before she could stop herself.

Sam’s eyebrows went up. “How’d you know that?”

She sighed. Had the Senator engineered this whole thing? “My name is Sunny Outlaw Payton—or more accurately, Sundance Outlaw Payton. Butch Cassidy Outlaw was my father.”

Sam looked puzzled. “But Uncle Butch and his—”

“I know. But he was my father.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

She turned and hurried away.

“WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?” Ben McKee asked Sam.

“I’m not quite sure, but I think I just met my cousin. Now I remember why she looks familiar. She reminds me of my sister, Belle. Both tall, brunette. Same eyes. Same nose. Well, I’ll be damned.”

“And you never knew you had a cousin?”

“Nope, not by Uncle Butch. I don’t even remember him, but I know he and Aunt Iris never had children.”

“Aunt Iris?”

“His wife in Naconiche. I never liked her much. She was a sour-faced old prune who put the fear of God into us kids if we so much as spilled a cookie crumb on her settee. I hated to go visit her.”

“I take it your uncle is dead,” Ben said.

Sam nodded. “Somebody shot him thirty years ago. Right on the steps of the capitol building. Be funny if it was Aunt Iris. Well, not funny, but ironic.”

“They didn’t catch his killer?”

“Nope. Never did.”

“She’s a beautiful woman,” Ben said.

“Who?”

“Your cousin.”

“You interested?” Sam asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Me, too,” Sam said. “But in a different way than you are. I’ve got to call my folks. They’re not going to believe this.”

“I don’t imagine your aunt Iris is going to be happy about it.”

“Aunt Iris is long gone.”

“Dead?”

“May be, for all I know. She married a preacher about fifteen or twenty years ago and moved to Des Moines. We haven’t heard from her since. Not even a Christmas card.”

Their chili came, served by the young man who was their waiter. He also delivered a cauldron of the oyster crackers they’d ordered along with chopped onions and a couple of kinds of grated cheese. They both dug in. This was good chili. No, it was great chili. But hot. Real hot.

“Are you sure we ordered the medium?” Ben asked.

“Hoo-wee,” Sam said, “this stuff is hotter than a three-dollar pistol. But good. I’ll bet the hottest kind would blister the paint off a butane tank. Dump some of those oyster crackers in it. And some of that cheese. Cuts down on the fire.”

Ben doctored up his bowl and ate the whole thing. His forehead was a little damp when he finished, but he’d enjoyed it. A girl came by and refilled their iced tea glasses. He chugged the second glass and looked around for Sunny, but she still hadn’t reappeared. Where had she gone?

Sam must have read his mind. “Wonder where Sunny ran off to?”

Ben shrugged. “I was wondering the same thing.”

When the waiter came to get dessert orders, Sam asked him about Sunny.

“She must be in the office.”

“The office? She the manager?” Ben asked.

“Owner and manager. One of them. How about some peach cobbler with ice cream? Or pecan pie?”

They both ordered cobbler.

“How long has Sunny been the owner and manager of this place?” Sam asked the waiter before he could leave.

“Couple of years, I think. She took over from her mother and her aunt before I started working here.”

“From her mother?”

The waiter nodded. “Her mother and aunt started the café. My grandfather says he’s been coming here since it opened back in the seventies. That was way before Austin built up so much downtown. I’ll get your cobbler.”

SUNNY SAT IN HER OFFICE for a long time, staring out the window at the courtyard and fighting the urge to go back and ask Sam Bass Outlaw about his family. Her family. Her family and Cassidy’s. She’d always longed to meet them, but her mother would have been mortified if she’d tried. Probably still would be.

Should she tell Cass who had just dropped into Chili Witches? Knowing her twin, Cass would go charging to his table and demand answers. She picked up the phone to call upstairs, then put it back down again.

Maybe it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.

Chapter Three

A couple of days later, Ben McKee managed to shake loose from a case he’d been working on by lunchtime. He’d had a hankering for some more chili ever since he and Sam had visited Chili Witches. He’d had a hankering to see Sunny again, as well. She was a good-looking woman with a warm smile, and he’d been thinking about her a good bit. He hadn’t been in Austin long and hadn’t had much time to meet any ladies.

Oh, his sister Tracy had been trying to fix him up with this one and that, but he’d sidestepped her efforts at matchmaking. He wasn’t interested in the type of women she wanted to introduce him to—the picket fence and happily-ever-after kind. He’d tried that, and he was still paying the price for it. Only thing good that had come from his marriage was his son, Jay.

He grinned at the thought of his five-year-old towhead as he pulled into a parking spot by the café. God, he loved that little boy. No way in hell was his ex getting her hands on him again. Marla had never wanted Jay; she was a party girl and having a kid cramped her style. Having a husband had cramped it, too.

Ben spotted Sunny the moment he walked in the door. Her back was to him, but he’d recognize the curve of her jeans anywhere. When she turned and spotted him, she grinned.

“Well, hello, Ranger,” she said, walking toward him. “Ben, isn’t it?”

He felt himself grinning back at her. “Right. And you’re Sunny.”

“That’s me. Where’s your running buddy?”

“Who? Sam?”

She nodded.

“He’s based in San Antonio. He’s only in Austin occasionally.”

She glanced around the restaurant. “I see that same corner table is available. Seat yourself, and I’ll get your drink. Iced tea okay?”

“Tea is fine.” Ben made his way to the table and sat with his back to the wall so that he could watch Sunny.

On her way to the bar, she spoke to several people as she passed, including a group of three Austin police officers. They all laughed at something she said to them. A fourth cop came in before she moved on, looped his arm around her neck and kissed her cheek. She grinned and bumped her hip against his.

Ben watched the interplay. Boyfriend? Lover? Or was she just a flirt? He picked up the menu and studied it.

He didn’t get very far with his studying before Sunny was back with his tea.

“Here you go,” she said. “Your waiter will be right with you.”

“You seem to draw a lot of cops.” He glanced to the table of four.

She laughed. “Yep. It’s because they get a twenty percent discount on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. You get one, too.”

“And why is that?”

“You’re a cop, aren’t you?”

“Well, sure, but I meant why the discount?”

She grinned. “Because I’m civic-minded. And because I used to be one.”

“You? A police officer?”

The surprise must have registered on his face, because she laughed. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“I just can’t picture you with a gun on your belt.”

She sobered. “I wore one for a lot of years. Oh, here’s Pete to take your order. Enjoy your lunch, Ben.” Sunny turned and was gone before he could say another word.

Ben ordered his meal and ate without speaking to Sunny again. The place was busy, and he watched her move around all over the rooms, smiling and talking to this one and that. He lingered a bit after he was done, but she never approached him again. Finally, he rose and started for the door.

“Everything to your liking, Ben?” she asked, suddenly appearing by the hat rack. She handed him his Stetson.

“Yes, ma’am. It was.”

She smiled. “Come back soon, and bring your friends.”

“I’ll do that.” He hesitated a couple of beats, trying to think of something more to say, but he was tongue-tied and nothing came out. He nodded, crammed his hat on and left.

What the hell had gotten into him? He’d never been shy around women. He’d hoped to flirt a little bit with her, maybe ask her out for coffee or something, but he’d felt like a damn teenager all of a sudden. Crazy.

He was still trying to figure it out when his cell phone rang and his thoughts switched to business.

SUNNY STOOD AT THE DOOR and watched Ben talking on his phone. He was one fine-looking man.

“Fine-looking man,” the Senator said.

She glared at the Senator and strode to bar. Grabbing a pitcher of iced tea, she made the rounds refilling glasses. What she didn’t need in her life was a man. Fine-looking or not.

When the lunch-hour crowd died down, she went into the kitchen and started filling a dozen plastic containers with chili, labeling the mild and medium lids. She saved the “hotter than hell” stuff for the café’s few adventurous paying customers. These were for some of Austin’s homeless. By the time the bowls were boxed up with spoons, napkins and crackers, Marge was there to pick them up.

The plump, gray-haired woman was all smiles as usual and wagging the insulated box from the previous day. “Thank you so much, Sunny. This means more than you know.”

“You always say that, Marge, and it is I who should be thanking you for all your work. A few cups of chili is nothing.”

“Oh, but it is. Chili is one of our favorite items. We have to make the guys take turns.”

“Need any salad today?”

Marge shook her head. “We have plenty from the restaurant next door, but thanks anyway.”

Sunny insisted on carrying the box outside to the mission’s vehicle. A myriad of good food smells flowed from the van when Marge opened the door.

“Looks like you hit the jackpot today,” Sunny said. “Reminds me that I haven’t eaten.”

“The restaurants in Austin are very kind to us. I collected all this in only half an hour. If you’re not in the mood for chili, the catfish at Hooks looked very good today,” Marge said, winking.

“Sounds like a winner to me.”

Marge waved as she roared off to serve the hungry folks who would be waiting for what might be their one decent meal of the day.

On cue, Sunny’s stomach growled, reminding her again that she hadn’t eaten anything since the cup of yogurt she had for breakfast many hours ago. She decided to take Marge’s suggestion and headed for Hooks, the seafood restaurant next door to Chili Witches. She and Cass often traded meals with Sid and Foster, the owners who’d also been tenants of the building for years.

Sid, a slightly plump man with thinning rusty hair, bustled over when she opened the door. “Hello, baby doll,” he said, giving her an air kiss. “Where have you been keeping yourself? Your sister just dropped in a few minutes ago. Want to join her or do you have a yen for some privacy?”

Sunny glanced around the room and spotted Cass, who grinned and waved her over. “I’ll join my sister. What’s good today?”

“Oh, my dear, we have some pecan-crusted catfish that’s to die for. Foster has outdone himself.”

“I’ll have that. Tell Foster hi for me.”

“I will,” Sid said as he held out her chair. After she was seated, Sid bustled off to get her drink. Sid bustled everywhere.

“Hey, sis,” Cass said. “How’s it going? I haven’t seen you in a couple of days. Avoiding me?”

She almost laughed off the question, but a funny little hitch in her breath stopped her. Had she been avoiding Cass? Not consciously, of course, but maybe she had. Why?