Page 5 of One Wild Texas Night
“Frankly, I’m not sure my brothers would have come to your rescue,” she admitted. “The feud is still strong in our generation. It isn’t ever going away. They always said your great-granddad shot and killed my great-grandfather.”
Feeling a little flare of annoyance, Jake shook his head. “My family always said your great-grandfather shot and tried to kill my great-grandfather. And the feud goes further back than those guys. However it went, I couldn’t leave anyone behind to burn. Not even your brothers or your dad, in spite of our history. At least I’ve never shot at your family, and I hope none of you have at us. Just our great-grandparents exchanged gunfire.”
“I’ve been told that, but I didn’t know if it was the truth. I figured it was,” she said, and he glanced at her to see her studying him. Her bandanna accidently slipped down, and he notice a deep pink in her cheeks, and he wondered what she had been thinking. And he knew he shouldn’t speculate on why her cheeks had flushed.
He tried to shift his thoughts to something neutral and impersonal. It was an impossible task with her sitting so close. His reaction to her stunned him. He had seen her off and on all his life, but because she was a Blake, he’d paid little attention to her.
“By the way,” she said, turning to him again, “since we are speaking to one another now, I saw in the local paper and in one of the ranch magazines that you’re one of four ranchers who have donated large sums to rebuild the old arena that burned in Fort Worth. For years, that was a bitter subject with my family.”
“So I’ve heard. I heard that your family planned to buy the land decades ago when it first came on the market and were going to build something there, but my family slipped in and donated the money to the city for an arena before your family could buy the property.”
“That’s close to the version I’ve heard. Maybe a little more cheating by your family to get the city to build an arena. We’ll never know,” she said, a smile wrinkling her eyes.
“That was all before our time, so we’ll never know,” he said, but his thoughts were really on her smile that made him want to smile in return. Her eyes seemed to twinkle when she smiled, and it made her even more appealing. More appealing. That was staggering. He didn’t want to be aware of her at all. Once again, he told himself he needed to get out more. He’d stayed on the ranch the past few weekends. He wasn’t going to in the future. Not with this kind of reaction to a Blake.
“I’m glad the arena is being rebuilt. I love rodeos. I loved that arena. Thanks so much to you and your cousins for contributing to build a new one.”
“You’re welcome. I liked that arena, and so did my cousins and my friends. We all competed there. We wanted to see it rebuilt and continued.”
“I don’t know your cousins.”
“One of them, Cal, contributed to the arena. He worked out of the country, although he owned a Texas ranch. He worked for the government and was killed in an accident. We’ve asked that they name the arena after him—the Cal Brand Arena.”
“I’m so sorry you lost your cousin,” she said, sounding as if she meant what she said.
“Thanks. He was a great guy, and we miss him, even though we didn’t see a lot of him these last years.”
He appreciated her sympathy and was pleased that she was interested in the arena. “What do you know, we can get along for a few minutes.”
She looked startled and nodded. “I hope so,” she said quietly, and he wondered if she was thinking about fights they’d had in the past and how cold they had been when they had gone to court with boundary disputes, arguments over water rights and other complaints. They’d never conversed with each other on those occasions. This was a first. He didn’t expect this sudden friendliness to last, though. Too much history in their families.
“You’ve put a good distance between us and the fire now,” she noticed. “For a minute there I was worried about us getting away. The fire has to have reached my house by now,” she added. She got out her phone and in minutes had news and pictures. “I don’t think I’ll get a picture of my house because of the smoke. Every once in a while, the wind clears the smoke enough for a picture, but it’s just ranch land. I’m not sure I even want to see a picture of my house.”
“They’re probably getting the pictures from a drone,” he stated. “Don’t look. It won’t help you. We got out with our lives. That’s the main thing. Focus on that.”
She nodded and turned to look out the back window and watch the fire. “When my sister ran away to marry your brother, she left that letter for me, like I told you. She explained they had to leave because of my father and brothers. I’ve always kept her letter because that’s all I have of her. Now even that has burned and is gone.”
He sat quietly, remembering how his brother had told him he would have to disappear because her dad and older brothers would come after them. His brother had shared secrets with him, but her sister hadn’t shared any with her, judging from her few remarks. Probably because Claire was only eleven at the time. He had vowed to keep his brother’s secrets, and he always had.
His thoughts shifted to the present. He was still shocked he was taking her home with him. They would be under the same roof—his worst enemy in the entire world living in his house, eating with him, talking and getting to know each other. They were acting civil to each other right now, but he knew that was because of the fire and danger and her loss. It was temporary and superficial. They had generations of hatred ingrained into them, and it wasn’t going away. He would help her, but he still didn’t like her. She had no clothes—nothing, he realized. When he could, he should drive her into Persimmon. She could pick up a few essentials there.
He glanced at her, and at the same time she turned to look at him, and he felt a clutch to his insides. His truck bounced over a couple of big stones, and he jerked his attention back to the road. He focused on his driving, but surprise over her features stayed with him. He’d always thought her incredibly plain, but he knew it was because of the way she dressed, either in overalls or jeans, with no makeup, her hair in the thick braid that hung down her back. So why was she looking so attractive to him now?
He wished she had refused to stay at his cabin, but she’d probably figured the same as he had—that the only motels anywhere in the vicinity would be totally booked with people driven out by the fires. He had invited her to stay at his place, so he was stuck with her. Too bad it was only a getaway fishing cabin and didn’t have all the guesthouses his ranch home did. With them both beneath the same roof, was he even going to be able to tolerate her?
That thought made him grit his teeth. She had grown quiet, and he wondered if she was having the same thoughts about him. He knew she didn’t like him and considered him her worst enemy, because she had told him so more than once.
In a short time, they were on a highway heading east. Would thirty miles to the east be safe from the fire? He would just have to keep up with the reports and be aware of the fire and wind conditions. But, for now, they were safe, and he motioned to her that they could finally remove their bandannas.
“We both need to pray for rain,” he said, breaking the silence in the truck. “We’re supposed to have rain later today, but there’s no seeing the sky for all the smoke.”
“The rain will be too late for my place,” she said in a monotone.
“Sorry. You’re right. What about your livestock, cattle and horses? Where’d they go?”
“Do you know Dan Sloan?”
“Sure.”
