Almost Home Read online

  Almost Home

  India Masters

  Haley Kilpatrick knows one thing—men are trouble. And that goes double for cowboys with killer smiles, smooth lines and kisses that can melt a girl’s brain. She’s come to town to claim an inheritance, not the interest of a blue-eyed charmer who has “cowboy Casanova” written all over him. But Haley’s also done playing it safe and ready to do what she wants for a change. And what she wants is Wyatt Brody for some hot, Texas-style sex.

  Wyatt’s always preferred a fast roll in the hay to the trappings of a relationship, but when Haley rides into town with an attitude equal parts innocent and intoxicating, he’s willing to reconsider his single status. The lust between them flares hotter with every encounter and something about Haley snares him in a way he’s never experienced. Wyatt is prepared to do whatever it takes to get what he wants—and he wants Haley. In his bed and in his home. Forever.

  Almost Home

  India Masters

  Acknowledgments

  To Elizabeth for her patience with show and tell. To Alvania Scarborough for critiquing so many times I’m sure you’d sooner put your eyes out than read it again. And to Julia Devlin for reading it even though this one wasn’t your cup of tea, you city girl you. We are the ultimate threesome—and I mean that in the best possible way.

  Chapter One

  Junction, Texas

  “Stay in the damn truck, Snoop. Watch the trailer.” Haley Kilpatrick jabbed her finger at the gargantuan Irish wolfhound clamoring to follow her out of her ratty, old pickup. He barked, the sound deep and rusty, lending an impression of fierceness the animal would never live up to. It was pure sass, and anyone who knew him knew it, but he was better than any car alarm on the market and damn good company too. She hopped out of the cab, boot heels hitting the patched asphalt with a dull thud, and slammed the door. The dog made a move for the window and she cut him off with a sharp gesture.

  “It’s hotter’n a church full of whores on judgment day, you wiry-haired mongrel, don’t make me roll the windows up. Stay.”

  Satisfied the dog would stay put, she jammed her ancient Resistol on her head, slung her cloth hobo over her shoulder, and stepped onto the sidewalk. She hadn’t missed the cowboy staring at her outside the feed store. He leaned casually against the wall, ankles crossed, thumbs hooked on either side of his belt buckle, the ubiquitous toothpick between full lips. Haley had seen hundreds just like him but he was prettier than most with a head of blue-back hair that almost touched his shoulders. Thank goodness for the dark sunglasses shielding her interest. Lord, she did love a man with long hair. He grinned, blue eyes glinting with humor as he checked her out. Being on the receiving end of that smile felt like getting struck by lightning. She only hoped there wasn’t smoke coming out of her ears.

  “That’s some dog you got there, darlin’,” he said, his drawl Texas thick. Definitely a native.

  “He’s been known to raise an eyebrow or two.”

  “How come he’s only got one ear?”

  “He’s a lover, not a fighter.” She pulled an envelope from her bag, scrutinizing the address.

  “My kind of dog.” He shoved away from the wall. “You lookin’ for some place in particular, ma’am?”

  “Holden Petrie’s office? This is the right street number but…”

  The cowboy sent her another dazzling grin. “Oh, it’s the right address, sure’nuff. See, Holden, he owns the feed store and keeps an office in the back. Kind of unusual, I reckon, but he likes to keep his finger on the pulse of the community, so to speak.”

  She cocked her head, squinting at the window sign. Petrie’s Ranch Supply, it proclaimed in bold red letters, and beneath it, in small gold script—Holden M. Petrie, Attorney at Law (office in the back).

  “Hmm, ranch supply and legal advice.”

  “Two birds with one stone,” the cowboy agreed.

  Haley shrugged. “It’s a concept. Why not just add Gossip Mill on the end there and git’er done?”

  His chuckle emerged a deep, rich rumble. “Because that would be Margie’s Diner, yonder.” He tipped his head in the direction across the street. “Where I’d be happy to take you to lunch when you finish your business with Holden.” He followed her to the door and opened it for her. “Name’s Brody and you are?”

  Haley steeled herself, took off her sunglasses, and looked him in the eye. “Late for my appointment.” Hooking her shades to the neck of her tee shirt, she squared her shoulders and crossed the threshold. Her lips curved at his soft laugh, and confident, “That’s all right, sweet pea, I like my women sassy.”

  The air smelled of sweet feed and hay combined with the tang of raw lumber as outdoor scents wafted in from the large, rolling doors off to the side. It was a rich aroma, heavy and appealing to people who worked hard with no time off for vacations. This was no big box store, offering gadgets and gimmicks. The shelves stocked supplements and liniment, barbed wire and pump parts. It was a modest place, a little bit dusty and altogether comforting to a girl who had grown up amongst ranchers. Haley’s boot heels kicked up dust motes as she crossed the worn plank floors toward her future.

  Holden Petrie’s law office was as unpretentious as the man himself. He opened the door to his plainly furnished inner office to greet her, offering a work-worn hand.

  “Welcome to Junction, Miss Kilpatrick.” His accent was thick but more cultured than the cowboy she’d just encountered. “You’re a hard woman to track down.” He gestured to a chair and she sat.

  “Well, between the rodeo circuit and training gigs, I don’t light in one place for too long. Your letter caught up to me in Austin. I keep a post office box there.”

  Petrie smoothed his iron-gray hair, gave her a good old boy smile and settled behind his desk to flip open a file.

  “The estate’s pretty straightforward. Your aunt owned a few thousand acres of land with two small houses on the property, some outbuildings, several capped oil wells and a couple of natural gas wells. You’ve a got a mile or so of frontage on the highway and the Llano River, along with One-Eyed Jack’s Roadhouse just on the outskirts of town.”

  “Auntie Jack owned a bar?”

  Petrie leaned back in his chair with a chuckle. “That she did. Opened it about ten years back hoping your pa would come home and run it for her. Figured it was the only way she’d ever get to know you. Did a damn good business too. Pool tables, country bands on the weekends. Poured a good drink, didn’t skimp and was well liked enough that most of the customers took their fights outside so as not to jeopardize her liquor license.

  “Building’s got an apartment upstairs but that’s used mostly for storage. Inventory’s included in the packet I have for you. Jack’s ranch foreman quit last year so your nearest neighbor has been overseeing the place. He’s the one found your aunt.”

  Haley swallowed the ache that burned in her throat. She wished she’d known Jacqueline Kilpatrick. Didn’t know why no one had ever told her the woman existed. It would have been nice to have some family in this world. Especially a woman, someone to help her navigate the pitfalls of life in a world where men often ruled with an iron fist.

  “Where’s she buried?”

  “On a little rise about a mile or so from the house. Family cemetery.”

  Haley nodded and let the tears come. “Wish I’d known her.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Petrie got up and walked around the desk, rested a hip on the edge and handed her a tissue. That small gesture of consideration was nearly her undoing.

  “Jack and your pa never got on. She thought he was a wastrel and he thought she was a meddling old hen. I reckon your ma went along with him just to keep the peace.” He gave her a shoulder pat and moved back behind his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out
several sets of keys.

  “For the roadhouse, the apartment, storage sheds,” he explained, showing her the labeled keys. “Gate key to the ranch, the houses, her truck. I’ve been managing things so the utilities are up to date. Didn’t know what your intentions might be but I’ve planned for several contingencies. I have paperwork to transfer all the properties into your name, plus utilities, and the liquor license to the roadhouse. Or, if you’d prefer, power of attorney allowing me to sell her holdings and place the proceeds into an account in your name.”

  Haley nodded, blew her nose and stuffed the tissue in her jean pocket.

  “I’d like some time to think about it, if that’s okay.”

  “Course it’s okay, sugar. You take as much time as you need.” He pulled a manila envelope out of the file and handed it to her, along with a cashier’s check for a staggering amount. “The will specified the cattle should be sold, so Wyatt bought them—he’s the neighbor I told you about. He and your aunt were close. Nearest thing to a mother he had after his own passed.” He dropped the keys into the envelope and handed it to her. “Bank’s down at the end of the street, there’s already an account in your name. All you need to do is sign a signature card and they’ll issue a debit card. You can draw on the funds any time.” He stood up, offered his hand. “I’m real sorry for your loss, Miss Kilpatrick. Miss Jack was one of a kind.”

  Haley rose and stuffed the envelope and check in her bag. “What happened, Mr. Petrie? How’d she die?”

  “From a fall.” He shook his head. “We all suspected foul play but there wasn’t any real evidence. Just some scuff marks in the hayloft. Seems she took a blow to the head but the coroner said that could have happened when she fell. Ruled the death as undetermined.”

  Murdered? Her jaw clenched. The one person who might have loved her hadn’t had a chance. How could her pa have kept her aunt’s existence from her? And to find out Jack’s death might not have been an accident? She squared her shoulders, determined not to make a scene. She’d have plenty time to think about it later. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Petrie. I’ll let you know what I’m gonna do.”

  The cowboy wasn’t there when Haley left the ranch supply store cum attorney’s office, a fact for which she was grateful. She didn’t feel up to swapping light banter with anyone at the moment. Snoop waited for her, his massive head hanging out the driver’s window.

  “Move your big, hairy ass over,” she said, climbing into the truck. The dog moved over as she climbed behind the wheel, then stuck his wet nose against her cheek with a mournful whine. She wrapped her arms around his solid bulk, buried her face in his gray fur and sobbed like a baby.

  “Aw, Snoop,” she said when the storm passed. “Looks like we got us a home, buddy.” She jammed the key in the ignition and headed in search of the bank and a grocery store.

  Haley garnered more than her fair share of attention at the local Wells Fargo, though she concluded her business as quickly as possible. Fischer’s Market was another matter. While people smiled and were generally friendly, she was a stranger and that made her an object of curiosity.

  Pushing her cart down the aisles, Haley was more than impressed with the selection. She loaded up on groceries and the necessary hygiene products, hoping she wouldn’t have to come back to town for a good little while. Being the object of people’s curiosity carried an odd feeling. She didn’t mind people checking her out when she was making her rounds at a rodeo, but trudging up to the checkout with eyes boring into her back left her tired and emotionally wrung out.

  “Good afternoon and welcome,” the cashier said with a bright smile. “You new in town? Don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before.”

  Haley forced a smile. “First time. Great variety though.”

  “Thank you. We try. Saves folks the drive to Kerrville and it’s the only way to compete with the big stores. You live here?”

  Haley shrugged. “Don’t know yet. Maybe. I’ll have to see how my dog and my horses like it.”

  “Oh, I expect they’ll love it. My name’s Tracie Owens.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tracie. I’m Haley Kilpatrick.”

  Tracie gasped. “Jack’s niece.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Well, it’s real nice to meet you. You know how to find the place?”

  “Yeah. Holden drew me a map.”

  “Then I’ll just say welcome to Junction. I hope you decide to stay. It’d be nice to have another single girl my age to hang out with. That is, if you’re lookin’ for a friend.”

  Haley’s smile was genuine this time. “A girl can never have too many friends.” To have even one female friend would be a first for her. She handed Tracie her debit card and paid for her purchases. She was just getting ready to head for the door when the good-looking cowboy showed up again.

  “Well, if it ain’t the mystery woman with the hairy dog. Let me help you with that, sweet pea.” He took hold of her cart.

  “You again?” Haley sighed with impatience. The last thing she needed was some man chasing her skirts—not that she ever wore skirts—but she had plenty to deal with without adding the complication of a man. Even if he was the hottest thing on two legs she’d ever seen. “I’m perfectly capable of loading groceries into my truck, cowboy.”

  “Y’all have met?” Tracie asked.

  “We’ve howdied but we ain’t shook yet,” Hailey replied.

  “Wyatt,” Tracie scolded. “You leave Miss Kilpatrick alone. You’re gonna give her a bad impression of the men hereabouts.”

  “Shoot, I’m harmless, Tracie,” the cowboy protested with an unrepentant grin, then he did a double-take. “Wait. You’re Jack’s niece?”

  “Jacqueline Kilpatrick was my aunt, yes.”

  “Then we’ve got some business to discuss, ma’am. I’d like to buy the place.” He bulled right ahead and aimed her cart out the door toward her truck.

  “I ain’t even seen it yet. I don’t know if I want to sell it or not.”

  “Well, if you do, I’m your man. I’ll give you a fair price.” He plunked her grocery bags in the bed of the truck. “Need any help finding your way?”

  “I got a map.”

  “I take it that’s a no.”

  “Reckon so.”

  “All right.” He tugged the brim of his Stetson and backed away. “Oh, hey, did Holden tell you about the bird?”

  Haley blinked. “Bird?”

  The hunky cowboy laughed. “Big gray parrot. Can’t miss him. Talks up a storm.”

  * * * * *

  Despite the drought, the pastures were ripe with thick green grass. Groves of live oak and pecans dotted the landscape, offering protection from the wind. Near as she could tell, her aunt’s ranch was a little slice of heaven set down in the middle of Texas. The lane leading to the house needed grading but Haley suspected there must be equipment in one of the outbuildings she could use to smooth out the ride.

  Haley twisted the key in the lock and paused for a long moment. Snoop leaned against her, pushed his muzzle into her hand and whined in sympathy. “All right. Let’s do this, buddy.” She opened the door and uttered a soft, “Oh.”

  The cozy, rustic space captivated her with its maple brown and gold hued flagstone floors and comfortable leather furniture. Vaulted ceilings highlighted hand-hewn beams. Wide plank stairs flanked the modern kitchen, undoubtedly leading up to the bedrooms. A short hallway funneled traffic to the back of the house where the current resident screeched in displeasure.

  The red light was blinking on the answering machine, so she hit play.

  Holden Petrie’s voice greeted her. “Afternoon Miss Kilpatrick, I forgot to mention the bird while you were here. I’ve been keeping him but he’s got a mouth like a sewer and the wife made me get rid of him soon as she heard you were heading our way. His name’s Scuzz. Jack won him in a poker game. He doesn’t have the most winning personality but Jack doted on him. I expect he’ll warm up to you once you’ve fed him a time or two. Er…go
od luck with that, Miss Kilpatrick.”

  “Great. Just what I need, a dirty-mouthed bird with an attitude.”

  The bird squawked, “Asshole.” When she crossed the room to his cage, he bobbed his head as she studied him and croaked, “Let me outta here.”

  “Not a chance, feather face.”

  “Asshole.” The bird uttered a loud squawk, then reared back and shot a stream of green poop at her.

  “Oh gross, you little varmint!” She stepped back from the cage, wiping bird poop off her shirt as he took aim again. “Keep that up I’ll twist your dang head off and feed you to the buzzards. Nasty thing.”

  “Turd muncher,” the bird declared, punctuating the words with much squawking and head bobbing.

  She threw up her hands and looked down at Snoop. “Oh lord, he’s the devil’s spawn.”

  “Asshole,” the bird squawked and prepared to launch another stream of poop at her.

  “Stuff it, bird brain.” She sidestepped the poop and glared at the posturing bird. “Kung Pao Parrot’s sounding pretty good to me right about now.”

  The bird ruffled its feathers and croaked, “Dumbass.”

  “At least I don’t have a brain the size of a pea, feather face.”

  “Getting into a war of words with a talking bird,” a deep, amused male voice spoke from behind her. “Reckon I’ve about seen it all now.”

  Haley yelped, slapped a hand over her chest and rounded on her visitor. “Tarnation! Did somebody drop you on your head as a young’n? Don’t you know better than to sneak up on a body like that?” She leveled her gaze on the dog. “And you. What kind of watchdog are you that you let a total stranger walk up on us?” The dog whined and hung his head. She relented, scratching his one remaining ear. “And if listening to me have a war of words with a talking bird is your idea of seeing it all, cowboy, you need to get out of the house more often.”

  Dear god, Wyatt Brody had to be about the prettiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. Why did men always get the bluest eyes and the longest lashes? He leaned against the doorjamb, a half-grin tilting that sexy mouth, looking like he’d eaten a big helping of sin salad for lunch and was more than willing to share.