Blame It On The Cowboy

Lucky had been so sure that the gossips had filled Reese in by now, but obviously the townsfolk didn’t know as much as the McCords thought they did.

“Of course, we don’t know who the clown was,” Sissy Lee went on. “I thought it was Brian, the guy who worked for Helene, but it turns out that he’s gay. Of course, I guess he could actually be bi or else—”

“How long ago did that clown stuff happen to Logan?” Reese interrupted.

Sissy Lee shrugged. “This past summer.”

That fit with Reese’s timeline of her one-night stand three months ago. Maybe.

Sissy Lee put Logan’s boxed burger meal aside, and while Reese dished up Daniel’s plate, she got an idea. “Where do the McCords live? Because I’ll have a break soon, and I can drop that off to him.”

“It’s that big house on the edge of town. Can’t miss it. Except Logan doesn’t spend much time there anymore. You know that Victorian building just up the street? Well, that’s his office, and he has a loft apartment there.”

Reese had noticed the house. In fact, she was in the Bluebonnet Inn on the same block. She checked the time—still an hour before her break, but maybe Logan’s assistant wouldn’t come for the burger before then.

Because Reese wanted to get inside that building. She had some spying to do.

* * *

“REESE STEPHENS.” Logan repeated her name under his breath as he read the initial report the private investigator had just sent him.

There wasn’t much info yet, but then when Logan had called the PI the day before, the man had said it might take a while, that the woman wasn’t showing up in his usual search engines.

There had to be a reason for that.

Logan didn’t know what game she was playing, but she was up to something. No doubt about it. After all, she had that photo of him on her phone, so even if she’d been too drunk to remember, she would have seen it later and then recognized him at the café. Of course, there was the possibility that she hadn’t known whether it was Lucky or him who’d gotten into that hotel bed with her, but there was still no reason for her not to fess up.

No good reason, anyway.

So, why was she here in Spring Hill? The private investigator’s initial report certainly didn’t help with that. Her name was Reese Violet Stephens. She was twenty-nine, single. She’d attended culinary school in New Orleans and worked as a cook or chef at various restaurants all over the US. However, she’d never stayed at any of them for more than a couple of months. No criminal record—under that name, anyway.

And that was it.

She had no social media accounts, no driver’s license, no paper trail that people usually left. That only made Logan even more suspicious. The PI, too, and that’s why he was digging deeper. Hopefully, that digging wouldn’t take too long.

Logan parked in the circular drive in front of his family’s home, and he hadn’t even stepped from his truck before he got a whiff of what Lucky and he had discussed the day before.

The manure.

Yeah, it was a problem all right. The bulls had already been moved, but it might take a while for the stench to clear out.

He was about to head up the steps to the porch when his phone buzzed, and after Logan saw the name on the screen, he knew it was a call he had to take.

Bert Starkley, the owner of the Fork and Spoon Café.

Logan had called him the night before, but Bert hadn’t answered so Logan had left him a voice mail. Nothing specific and Logan had to make sure he didn’t say anything to Reese’s employer that would make the man suspicious. Or make Bert think Logan was interested in her. The last thing Logan needed was more gossip about him and a woman. Especially a woman who was almost certainly bad news.

Later, he’d curse himself again for that one-night stand, but now he needed to find out anything he could about her.

“Logan?” Bert said when he answered. “Is everything okay?”

It was a valid question, considering that Logan had never before called the man. “Everything’s fine.” And he chose his next words carefully. “I was at the café yesterday for lunch—”

“Yep, I heard. Sissy Lee,” Bert added as if that explained everything. Which it did. The waitress had no doubt blabbed to everyone that Logan had left the café in a hurry.

“I had to leave for a meeting,” Logan lied. He hated liars, but this little white one was necessary. Even if Bert didn’t totally believe that lie, maybe he’d still repeat it to diffuse some of Sissy Lee’s gossip. And he didn’t have to think hard to imagine what that gossip might entail. It almost certainly hinged on Helene.

“Sissy Lee mentioned the meeting, too,” Bert verified. “How can I help you? Is this about the catering job?”

Logan frowned. “What catering job?”

“Something Della wanted us to do for her.”

This was the first Logan was hearing about it, but then he was too busy to get involved with the daily workings of the house. “No. I was calling about your new cook.” Logan left it at that, to see what Bert would volunteer about her.

But nothing.

Clearly, Bert was waiting to see what Logan would volunteer.

“Renee?” Logan finally said. “Is that her name?”

“Reese.” Again, that was it. Hell, Bert wasn’t cooperating with this at all.

“She looked familiar,” Logan continued. “I just wondered how you’d found her?”

“She came into the café, asked about the help-wanted sign that I had in the window. I gave her a trial run to see if she could cook. She can, by the way. I hope you enjoyed that burger she fixed.”

He hadn’t. Logan hadn’t eaten a bite of it, so rather than lie again, he just made a sound of approval. “Reese dropped it off at my office after I had to leave. I wasn’t there, but she left it with Greg.”

Considering Logan had told Reese that Greg would be picking it up in the first place, he was even more suspicious that the woman had personally delivered it.

“You probably heard that Maggie’s got to have some surgery,” Bert added a moment later.

Maggie, Bert’s wife, and yes, Logan had heard. Female problems, which was the only thing Logan had listened to after hearing those two words. “I hope Maggie will be okay,” Logan said.

“Oh, she will be. Female problems,” Bert repeated. “But it means I’ll be out of the kitchen for a while. Reese said she’d have no trouble pulling double shifts for me.”

Logan was even more leery. Why was she being so accommodating? Of course, the obvious reason might be that with double shifts she would be earning double pay, but Logan wasn’t ready to cut her that kind of slack just yet.

“So, Reese had references when you hired her?” Logan pressed.

“Oh, I get it now. You’re wanting to make sure she’s experienced enough to do the catering job for Della?”

No, that wasn’t it at all. “Is she qualified? What did her previous employers have to say about her?”

“Didn’t check them out after I tasted a couple of things she cooked for me. The woman bakes, too. Melt in your mouth pies and cakes. She did this lemon thingy that had all the customers going on about it.” Bert paused. “But if you’re worried about her, I can check her references. Are you, uh, worried about her?”

The question was reasonable, but Logan heard something in Bert’s tone. He’d used the word worried but what he really meant was interested. Hell’s bells. Bert thought Logan was looking to hit on Reese.

“I just want to make sure Reese is the right person for the catering job,” Logan clarified, though he was dead certain that wouldn’t quell any of Bert’s interested suspicions since Logan hadn’t even known about the catering job before this phone call. “If you could follow through on her references, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure. I’ll get back to you.”

Logan ended the call, ready to go inside, but once again his phone buzzed. Good grief. At this rate, he’d never get in the house, but again it was a call he needed to take.

Jason Murdock’s name was on the screen.

Logan and he had been friends since high school, and when Jason had taken over running his uncle’s large ranch about thirty miles from Spring Hill, it made sense for them to do business together. Jason had cows to sell, and Logan needed to buy huge herds so he could resell in smaller groups and make a profit.

But there was a problem with Jason.

“If you’re going to give me another pity deal,” Logan said when he answered, “then I don’t want it.”

“Good. Because you’re not getting pity from me. I don’t do pity deals, pity fucks or pity anything else. I needed to unload those cows because I didn’t have the room for them.”

Logan wanted to believe him, but their friendship might have caused Jason to bend his no-pitying rule.

“I’m calling about Helene,” Jason said a moment later. “And yeah, you can hang up if you want, but her mother, Mary, called me this morning. She was boo-hooing all over the place. She wanted me to try to talk you into seeing Helene.”

“No.” Logan didn’t have to think about that, either. “Why would Mary call you?”

“Because she figured you’d just hang up on her. Let’s face it, Logan, you’re not exactly the forgiving sort.”

He wasn’t, and Logan liked that just fine. “Why did Mary want me to see Helene?” Logan asked.

“Hell if I know. And she wouldn’t say. She just said it was important.” Jason paused. “You know if you ever want to talk about what happened that night with Helene, all you have to do is call me.”

“Thanks but no thanks.” Logan had enough of those images in his head without reliving them through conversation.

Clowns and liars.

“If Mary calls back,” Logan told his friend, “have her call me directly.” Not that he especially wanted to talk to his ex’s mom, but he also didn’t want her pulling Jason into this.

Logan ended the call and went inside to ask Della about this catering issue. However, the moment he opened the door, he realized he might not be able to make a beeline for the kitchen as he’d planned. That’s because Lucky and Cassie were down on their knees in the foyer. At first Logan thought he’d walked in on something sexual—always a possibility where his twin was concerned—but then he saw that this was something much more intimate.

Lucky was proposing.

He was in the process of slipping an engagement ring on Cassie’s finger, and Cassie had tears in her eyes. Judging from her smile, they were tears of a happy variety.

“Crap,” Lucky grumbled. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to see this,” he added to Logan.

Perhaps because Lucky thought it would bring back bad memories of Logan’s own botched proposal. It did, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t happy for Lucky and Cassie. They were suited for each other, though that wasn’t apparent to them when Cassie had come back into Lucky’s life almost four months ago.

“I didn’t like Lucky being on his knees alone,” Cassie said, getting to her feet. “I said yes.”

She held out the ring for Logan to see. Since he still hadn’t closed the door, the sunlight caught the diamond just right, causing it to glint into his eyes.

It was their mother’s ring.

Of course, Logan had always known that it was Lucky’s to use if he wanted. Despite their mother only being in her forties when she’d been killed, she had made it a habit of saying which jewelry she would leave for each child. The engagement ring she’d wanted for Lucky. The wedding band for their kid sister, Anna. Logan had gotten her pearl necklace and Riley a gold bracelet.

Precious mementos.

But to Logan the most precious thing was his father’s pocketknife. That meant as much to him as the engagement ring had meant to Lucky.

Logan gave Cassie a kiss on the cheek and his brother a hug. “Congrats to both of you. It’s about time you made it official.” He tried to keep his tone light, and he did mean the congrats. Still, that didn’t help with the sudden lump in his throat.

“I’m going to tell Della and Stella,” Cassie said, glancing at Logan.

She hurried away, probably because she sensed Logan needed some time with his brother. Or time alone. But while Logan would take that time alone, later, for now he needed to do a little business with Lucky.

“I won’t keep you,” Logan assured him. “I figure Cassie and you will want to celebrate before the girls get home from school.” And by celebrate, he meant they’d want to have sex. “I just wanted to make sure the bull situation had been fixed before I leave for Dallas.”

The Dallas trip was legit. Logan was on a 3:00 p.m. flight and would be gone at least a couple of days, but considering he was slammed with work and getting ready for several magazine interviews, he was BS-ing about asking about the BS.

Lucky’s flat look told Logan he wasn’t buying the reason for this visit. “All right, what’s wrong with you?”

Logan hated to play the scorned-lover card, but he would this time. “You know what’s wrong with me. That doesn’t mean I’m not happy for Cassie and you. I am.”

Lucky’s flat look continued. “Does this have anything to do with the new cook at the Fork and Spoon?”

Either twin telepathy again or a good guess was in play here. “Why do you ask?” Logan settled for saying.

“Because of the way you lit out of there like your balls were on fire. But maybe they were on fire because of the lie you told her. You didn’t have a meeting.”

“But I did.” One that Logan scheduled as soon as he left the café.

Lucky clearly knew he was semilying, again, but Logan didn’t intend to let him in on anything. If Reese had meant “what happens in San Antonio stays in San Antonio,” then maybe she had a good reason for not wanting the one-nighter spilled, either.

Of course, that good reason might have something to do with blackmail, but for now Logan would use that possibility to his advantage. Besides, he didn’t want Lucky or anyone else to know he’d done something so stupid as to sleep with a woman he didn’t know.

Lucky kept staring at him. “Reese and I chatted after you left,” his brother tossed out there. And he watched, no doubt to see how Logan would respond.

Logan merely shrugged. At least he hoped that was the only thing his body was doing. “Let me guess—she flirted with you?” Easy guess because most women flirted with Lucky.

“No flirting. She asked about our trucks, said she thought she’d seen me driving one.”

Logan’s stomach tightened. He’d driven one of the company trucks to that San Antonio hotel, and if Reese had gotten a glimpse of it, then that could explain how she’d found him. Of course, he’d been on the cover of several Texas magazines, too, so perhaps that’s how she had made the connection.

“You’re not going to tell me what this is really about, are you?” Lucky asked.

Finally a question where Logan wouldn’t have to lie. “No. I need to talk to Della,” he said, heading for the kitchen.

Logan didn’t have to ask if that’s where Della was. He followed the scent of something cinnamon-y to the kitchen and found her taking some fresh bread from the oven. Perhaps an attempt to cover up the bull crap outside, and if so, it was working.

“Well, this is a surprise,” Della said. It managed to sound like a greeting and a scolding all at once. A scolding because it’d been a while since he’d been home. “Great news about Lucky and Cassie, huh? She went to the garden to find Stella to tell her. You okay with this?”

“Of course.”

“Okay with the ring, too?” Della pressed.

“Of course.” Logan moved closer and thanked her when Della cut off a piece of the hot bread for him.

“So, was it lucky timing that you were here for the proposal?” Della continued.

Logan took a second, bobbling the hot bread in his hand and blowing on it. “Bert mentioned you were having something catered? Are you doing that for Lucky and Cassie?”

“For Mia. It’s her fifth birthday in two weeks, and she wanted a fairy-princess tea party. I thought I’d have Reese do it.”

Reese?

So, they were on a first-name basis. Logan wanted to ask how that’d happened, but Della had an even better radar than Lucky. Logan definitely didn’t want her thinking there was something going on between Reese and him.

“She’s got experience doing kids’ parties?” Logan asked.

“Don’t know about that, but everybody in town is talking about what a good cook she is. She made these lemon thingies that folks are going on about.”

“Yeah, I heard. But does she have experience doing kids’ parties?” he repeated.

“Don’t know, but she’s obviously got experience baking. I’m having her do a cake and make some party food. She’ll be kinda busy what with Maggie’s female problems.” Della whispered those last two words as if it were some kind of secret. It wasn’t. Then she paused, nibbled on a piece of the cinnamon bread. “So, any word from Helene?”

Logan had expected the third degree about his own well-being. Not that, though. “No. I won’t hear from her, either.” He waited, figuring there was more.

There was.

“Her mother, Mary, called me,” Della continued. “We’ve gotten to know each other over the years because of coordinating Helene’s schedule for family events and such. Anyway, I thought you should know that Helene had some kind of mental breakdown. She’s in a hospital in Houston.”

Suddenly, the bread didn’t taste as sweet as it had a few seconds ago. Logan let the news sink in, and he was thankful that it wasn’t the heart-crushing blow it would have been just three months ago. Still, he wasn’t immune to the news because Helene had been in his life a long time.

“You want to know any other details?” Della asked.

Thankfully, Logan didn’t have to make a decision about that because his phone buzzed, and he saw the new text from the PI. The subject was Reese Stephens aka Reese Stephenson.

So, that explained why the PI had found so little on her during his initial search. Stephenson was her real name. But clearly the PI had learned something else.

“I need to read this,” Logan said to Della, and he went out onto the back porch.

Reese’s age hadn’t changed from the original report. Ditto for her going to culinary school and moving around. But there was a whole lot more to the woman he’d bedded in that hotel.

Logan read through the text, and once he got his jaw unclenched, he actually managed to say something.

“Shit.”

CHAPTER FIVE

REESE HADN’T COUNTED on being able to make this trip to the McCord Ranch so soon after seeing the twins, but she was thankful that their housekeeper Della had called and asked her to come over and discuss the party plans. It was the perfect excuse for Reese to get the information she needed about Logan and Lucky.

Well, hopefully it was.

Considering that everyone in town was talking about Logan’s fast exit from the café, it was possible that Della was going to try to pump Reese for info while Reese was pumping the woman. Either way, if this didn’t work, Reese was just going to have to come clean and admit that she did something so sleazy as have sex with a man she didn’t know. Then she could get back the watch and put this whole mess behind her.

Even if Reese’s body wasn’t letting her forget it.

Her body didn’t have a say in this, though. She’d learned the hard way that lust often drove really bad decisions, and it was obvious that sleeping with either of the McCord twins was a bad decision she couldn’t repeat.

Reese followed the crude map that Sissy Lee had made for her. It wasn’t that long of a walk, less than a half mile, and the house was so big that she could see it long before she got to it. Judging from the sheer size of it and the land surrounding it, the McCords were rich. Of course, she’d already guessed that, but this was rich-rich, and that meant either Lucky or Logan might be especially concerned about having spent the night with someone like her. If so, that could work in her favor because they could be eager to get rid of her.

Part of her wished that wasn’t the case, though.

If this had been just another ordinary town, Reese might have considered staying on longer than three months. The pay was decent, and Bert was a good boss. Shortly after he’d hired her, he’d even helped her find a place to live, temporarily. No way could Reese have managed to swing a stay at the Bluebonnet Inn on a daily basis, but Bert had talked the owner of the inn into renting her the converted attic apartment there. It wasn’t much, but then she’d never needed much, and this morning she’d learned it had a special view.

Of the McCord Cattle Brokers’ building.

She’d yet to see Logan or Lucky come and go, but from everything she’d heard, Logan only left for business trips, and Lucky was only there when he couldn’t avoid it. Or when he was checking on his twin. The buzz was that Lucky was still worried about Logan. Everyone in town was.

Logan was Spring Hill’s rock star.

And no one she’d encountered so far was taking his ex’s side in the breakup. The general consensus was that Helene should be burned at the stake for breaking poor Logan’s heart.

Reese walked up the circular drive, and as she neared the house, she caught the scent of poop. She hoped that wasn’t some kind of bad omen.

She made her way up the porch, but the door opened before she could even ring the bell. The outside of the house was so, well, pastoral looking, but that didn’t apply to the inside. The tall brunette woman in the doorway looked frazzled. With good reason. There were cats—lots of them—darting around.

Two small children, as well.

There were shouts of laughter. Plain out shouting, too, from a teenage girl on the stairs who apparently wasn’t happy about her sister using her makeup on one of the cats. Reese quickly spotted which cat. It was all white except for pink blush on its cheeks.

“I’m Reese—”

“Yes, I know. Della’s expecting you. No school today,” the woman said as if that explained everything. “I’m Cassie Weatherall. Please come in.”

Cassie as in Lucky’s soon-to-be fiancée. Reese recognized her from some TV talk shows, the sort where the host and his or her guests attempted to solve some huge problem in the span of an hour. Minus the commercials, of course. There were usually shouts and paternity test results involved.

Cassie looked around outside before she shut the door. “Where’s your car?”

“I don’t have one. I walked.”

She shook her head. “If you need to come out here again, just call the house, and someone can come and get you. Mia, don’t touch Mackenzie’s makeup again,” Cassie warned the younger girl without even pausing to take a breath.

“Sorry,” the little girl said as she flew past them. A little boy was chasing her with what appeared to be a magic wand and a chocolate-chip cookie.

The meager apology was apparently enough to get the teenager to whirl around and disappear into the hall off the top of the stairs.

“This way,” Cassie said after she shouted for the children to settle down.

Cassie might look like the prim and proper therapist, but her shout was all mom. According to the gossip Reese had heard at the diner, Cassie had fallen right into that role. Had fallen into the role of being a McCord, too. Cassie had given up her job as a celebrity therapist and had opened an office in Spring Hill. Considering the divorce rate was almost nil, the crime rate as well, it was possible she wouldn’t get a lot of business. Then again, there could be a lot of skeletons jangling in closets.

Reese didn’t mean to dodge Cassie’s gaze, but she couldn’t quite look the woman in the eye. She had no idea if Lucky had actually cheated on Cassie, but if so, it was a little stomach-turning to think that Reese could have been the other woman.

Cassie led Reese to the back of the sprawling house to an equally sprawling kitchen where a woman with pinned-up gray hair was at the stove.

“You’re here,” Della said, smiling.

But she wasn’t alone in the kitchen, and the person at the table definitely wasn’t smiling. Even though Reese couldn’t be certain, she thought this might be Logan.