Page 3 of Wicked Cowboy
“Thank you, Carter. I don’t want to ever leave Texas and them. They need me now.”
The dead don’t need any of us.I wiped my eyes before my father saw me.
This wasn’t me. I sniffled and then said, “Pop, I promised Bernie I’d always have his back. Glad you’re on my side.”
“Chelsea, here, looks like her mom.” My father said. “And her mom made good barbeque sides.”
At least he remembered the good evenings when they’d come over. I hadn’t known he’d paid attention to anyone who visited me that didn’t concern business. I pressed my hand on my heart. “But she talks like her dad.”
I pivoted to run to my office, but my pop’s words stopped me. “You looking to adopt her permanently, so she’d be a Rockson?”
I doubted Ridley would want to share a child she hardly knew, and Chelsea was the only kid I’d ever have. I gave a curt nod without saying a word. “I… yeah. I need to know she’s safe.”
My pop cut his chicken. “She needs us. You go. I’ll stick around here to eat with her.”
I never thought I’d live to see my father in the kitchen galley and not fine dining with the crystals. At another time, I’d have commented, but I ignored how my hair stood on its ends tonight and headed back to my office. I ignored the reports on green fracking that might revolutionize my job and not destroy the earth. I read them, signed off, and called my lawyers. “Any progress on finding Miss Steel?”
“Her lawyer filed the paperwork for her in court, but I don’t have an address to serve her yet.”
Her lawyer meant she was getting set for battle. This was going to be harder than I'd hoped. I hung up the phone and waited. I read the report on using sonic pressure points and forwarded the contract to my legal team. The future in oil was in finding better procedures, preparing for alternative energy sources, and not getting stuck on past performance.
And it was my SEAL training that kept me glued to my seat and focused. Emotion got more men killed than the bullets fired. Dora should never have left our tent without her gear on.
My phone beeped, but I opened the report that said Henrietta was dead and Chloe had been a foster child.
The second page made my pulse zip. She was here. On the next page, I had a picture of Ridley at the courthouse. She looked exactly the same as I remembered. And she was here. In Texas.
My lawyer called me. “Her lawyer called. She’s coming to talk to you, sir.”
“Good,” I said fast as my mind raced to Bernie. The summer after we’d graduated from different high schools, he’d talked about going into the service. His words made me question going to the college my parents had picked out for me. No Rockson had served in generations, until I signed myself up.
Now it was up to me to protect Chelsea, and a conversation was a good start. I tugged my ear as the lawyer asked, “What do you want to do?”
I stared at my open door. Bernie had taken the blame for when I’d destroyed my Jaguar from racing it that summer, and my mother forbade us from being friends.
Now, I’d keep his daughter as my own. “Prepare a case for me.” Chelsea deserved to be safe, so I said, “I’ll want to adopt her permanently.”
The lawyer said, “Ridley Steel is not married, no children of her own, and lives alone.”
None of that was a reason to take Chelsea out of my house. My skin electrified like I needed to prepare for battle, so I said, “Find out everything you can.”
I hung up the phone and my father plopped into the seat across from me. “I found this Ridley Steel, mystery woman.”
My eyes widened. I tilted my head. “That’s strangely convenient.”
He pointed out to the house. “She’s at the front door. Security just buzzed her in.”
She must have driven straight here without stopping. Maybe she was in a rush, and I’d sort everything out and have a quiet dinner. I rose from my chair and asked, “She’s alone and without cops?”
My father stood with me like we were for once on the same team. “Seems so.”
Good.
I was willing to talk and make a deal. We headed out of my office and I forced my cheeks to turn higher when I stared at the thin girl staring at us from the kitchen wing. I smiled at her and turned to Pops. “Why don’t you take Chelsea on a tour of our horses. I’ll text you when to come back.”
He stood like he’d protect Chelsea when he argued, “We’re not kicking her off the property right away and serving her with papers to bury her in paperwork?”
Today was already confusing. I patted him on the back like we were family, and not strangers who lived in the same house with the same name. “Call this recon, Pop.”
