Page 98 of Wrangled Up

By the time he reached the enormous, sprawling ranch house, his heart had blackened a lot more for his family.

He leaped from the horse mid-stride and gave a sharp whistle to bring the animal to a halt. Then he thundered up the front veranda, over hand-laid flagstones and past the prim landscaping. No sagging of these porch steps.

He burst through the front door, calling for Leon. His voice bounced off the perfect stucco walls and the high ceilings fashioned with chandeliers that cost more than some people’s cars in these parts.

“Leon! Show your yellow face to me.”

Leon stepped out of a door into a marble-floored hall. “Son of a bitch, you dare to come into my house and make demands?”

Tucker faced his uncle, his breathing labored as he fought to restrain himself. Damn, if they could only have settled this with pistols at dawn as he’d thought long ago. “Your son’s been shot.”

Shock overtook Leon’s craggy features, and Tucker almost felt sorry for him. “Shot? Who in the hell? Where?” In three strides, he stood in front of Tucker, fist cocked.

“Go on and throw that punch. We’ll see whose lifestyle made him stronger.” Leon pushed a pencil and counted his funds, while Tucker worked his ass off for his ranch.

Leon dropped his hand. It swung at his side as if lifeless. “Tell me my boy’s okay.”

“Ah, so there is a heart in there after all.” Tucker hitched a thumb in the pocket of his jeans. “Good to hear that one family member earns your concern.”

“Tell me, goddammit. He’s at your ranch? In the hospital? Where?”

“Dale was at my place. Set my animals free in the yard, but left the horses locked in the barn while he set fire to it.”

A sharp intake of breath. “No.”

“Seems he’s been hurting my horses too. But you knew about that. Didn’t you visit the ranch on four-wheelers with shovels on the back?”

Leon’s gaze slid away.

“Dale had a shotgun too. He fired a few shots at me and the people I love.”

His uncle’s face flipped between stunned disbelief and a sneer of derision. “So youarewith that man and woman on your ranch.”

Tucker gave a hard nod. “Yeah, and I’d like to see the man who challenges me on that. I lost a good woman and was rewarded with a good man and another wonderful woman. Now listen, Uncle Leon…” he emphasized the words, “…call this off. I’m not signing those papers, now or ever. And—”

He was cut off by a pounding noise. Leon shoved past him and went to the front door. He yanked the heavy slab open, and Tucker took a step back.

There stood Christian, looking between them.

“Ambulance on its way. Might wanna head up to the ranch,” he said to Leon.

Leon took off for his vehicle. Tucker slapped the horse’s rump, and with a sharp word, sent it running for home. Then he followed Christian to his truck. They rode in loaded silence all the way back to the ranch. The scene before Tucker unhinged him.

Fire trucks, squad cars. Two ambulances. And Letty and Claire in the middle of it all.

While Leon spoke with his son on the stretcher and the medical personnel, Tucker and Christian went directly to the women. They huddled together, talking quietly. When Claire looked up, relief washed over her beautiful features.

Tucker’s heart caved in a little more for this woman. How had he ever left her? Never again.

She threw herself into his arms and Christian wrapped them both in his embrace. They stood this way for several heartbeats before Leon joined them.

He poked his finger in Tucker’s face. “You.” His voice trembled. “If you woulda signed long ago…”

Claire stepped out of Tucker’s hold. “See, there’s a problem with your statement.”

Christian glanced between them, fists clenched. Tucker tensed.

Leon waved Claire away. “No one wants to hear advice from a waitress.”

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