Page 39 of Halfway to Hell

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Looking up, her breath caught. The man standing in the doorway wasn’t Texas.

Panic surged as she scrambled backward, eyes wide, heart hammering. He didn’t look friendly—far from it.

Clause’s glare was hard, the kind that told Sunday she wasn’t supposed to be here.

“I’m a friend of Texas,” he said gruffly, his eyes flicking over the girl with her big blue eyes and tangled blonde hair. She wore nothing but a man’s long-sleeved t-shirt, vulnerable and out of place.

Without a word, Clause grabbed a quilt from the blanket rack and brought it over to her. He stood silent, watching as fear flickered across her face. When she hesitated, he held the quilt out a moment longer, waiting for her to take it.

“Thank you,” Sunday murmured, clutching the quilt as she studied the man. Her eyes darted around, silently pleading for Texas to appear in the doorway. But the room remained empty.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Clause,” he replied, his tone rough but steady. “I’m Ange’s older brother. He didn’t tell me he was home or that he brought… you with him.”

The way Clause said“you”made Sunday’s stomach tighten. Coming here suddenly felt like a mistake. Clearly Texas’s family wasn’t thrilled about her being here. Or maybe it was somethingelse. Like the fact she was in a house he’d once shared with his late wife.

“I don’t know why he didn’t tell you,” Sunday said softly, shrugging as if trying to shrug off the unease. “Maybe he felt like he didn’t have to.”

Clause grunted an unintelligible sound as he gestured for Sunday to get off the cold floor.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway behind him, drawing his attention. A slow smile spread across his face.

“Texas,” Clause called out, “you’ve got a scared mouse in your bedroom.”

Texas had spotted Clause’s truck in the driveway and hurried from the barn, hoping his brother wouldn’t frighten Sunday. But seeing Clause standing inside his bedroom, he realized he hadn’t been quick enough.

“Clause, why are you making noise in my place?” Texas demanded, shoving his brother aside as he rushed to Sunday’s side.

Seeing her on the floor ignited a flare of anger inside him. “Why are you on the floor?”

Annoyed but gentle, he knelt down and helped her up, carefully wrapping the quilt around her shoulders.

“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning back just enough to meet her eyes, searching for any sign she wasn’t.

For a split second, Sunday stared up into his light hazel eyes. A shiver rippled through her and she wasn’t sure if it was fromthe smoldering intensity of his gaze or the fact she was standing there in barely anything.

For that brief moment, she forgot about Clause standing silently just behind them, the room shrinking down to only the two of them.

“I tripped over my feet. I’m fine,” Sunday said quickly, eager to ease the moment.

Texas would bet his last dollar that Clause’s gravelly voice and gruff demeanor had scared her more than anything else.

“Clause, why don’t you go put on some coffee for us?” Texas suggested, shooting his brother a pointed look.

Clause smirked, unfazed. “How about you introduce me to your friend first?”

So, it was going to be a pissing match between the brothers. Texas kept his hand steady on Sunday’s shoulder, grounding her as she found her balance. His eyes locked with hers, offering a sympathetic smirk—a silent promise that he had her back.

Stepping aside, he turned to Clause and made the introductions.

“Sunday Mornin’, this is my brother, Clause.”

“Nice to meet you, Clause,” Sunday said, staying close to Texas as his brother scrutinized her with a sharp gaze.

“You should get her some warmer nightclothes, Texas,” Clause said gruffly. “This old house is drafty, and the nights have been dipping into the forties. But you wouldn’t know that since you’ve been off gallivanting around on your bike.”

“Clause. Kitchen. Coffee. Now!” Texas snapped, punctuating each word like a warning, fully aware he was pressing his brother’s buttons.