In His Line of Work Read online

  “It’s better that you don’t know. Look, I have to go. Vaya con dios, mi amigo.”

  “Spanish, Boss?”

  “Yeah. One of my great grands married a Hidalgo.”

  “Huh?”

  “Her family was minor nobility in Spain, until they had to…Say, are you trying to distract me, Butch?”

  “Is it working?”

  Unfortunately, it was. He hadn’t thought of old Thomas and Analeigh Pettigrew in ages. “I have to go,” Deuce said again. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

  “Okay.” Trip sighed. “Just make sure you do the same.”

  “You know me. Bye, Butch.”

  “Bye, Boss.” Trip hung up before Deuce could correct him.

  Deuce shut his phone, put it away, and gathered up his duffel. After a final glance around the room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, he walked out of the room and pulled the door closed behind him.

  Then he turned in his room key and headed for his bank.

  Chapter 3

  A month later, Deuce drove down the small main street in the small town in South Dakota. He’d crisscrossed the country, staying a few days or maybe even a week in each town before moving on, never using the same name twice.

  Now, he was finally home, in the town of Woody Draw, where his family had lived for more than a hundred and thirty years. He steered the dusty black pickup truck Galatea had produced to a spot a few stores down from the Hummingbird Diner.

  He turned off the engine, got out of the truck, and gazed up and down the sidewalk, wondering if he’d recognize anyone. Crowds of noisy kids celebrating the last day of school jostled each other. Somehow they avoided jostling him.

  Deuce strode toward the diner, the jeans, red and black plaid shirt, boots, and tan cowboy hat he wore helping him blend in with all the passersby.

  The diner had been in his family for years, as well as the ranch tucked away in a valley a dozen miles outside of town.

  The sleigh bells their granddad had placed above the door rang out merrily as Deuce entered.

  Everyone in the diner turned to face him, and silence fell over them, interrupted by a quiet gasp. “Deuce?” The young woman behind the counter stared at him with wide eyes. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.”

  “Aunt is more like it.” Deuce scowled at his baby sister, although he was actually struggling to conceal his amusement.

  “Either way, you’re the last person I expected to see.”

  “Well, here I am.” He turned his scowl—the real thing, this time—on the people staring at him, and they suddenly seemed to find other things to interest them.

  Katelyn came around the counter and pulled him into a hug, and he let his scowl relax into a grin.

  “Hi, sis.”

  “You big doofus.” She planted a kiss on his cheek.

  “Doofus? No wonder why I left home.”

  “Come on.” She grabbed his sleeve and tugged him along after her. “Let me get you a cup of coffee. And you can tell me how long you’ll be home this time.”

  “I’m back to stay.” As long as Vincent didn’t come after him.

  “Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Ma and Pop have missed you. We all have.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “Could have fooled us. It’s been years since we’ve seen you, and the only time we heard from you was at Christmas and birthdays.” She poured his coffee and slid it across the counter to him, along with the half and half and the sugar dispenser. She patted his sleeve. “Never mind. We forgive you.”

  “I’m gratified.” He fixed his coffee the way he liked it, then blew on it and took a sip. He couldn’t prevent a grimace. “Who made this sludge?”

  She swatted his arm. “I did. And I’ll have you know that’s the finest French roast in Woody Draw.”

  Deuce shook his head. “It’s a good thing I’m back. I’ll take over the coffee making.”

  “You’re really staying?” The expression in her eyes was so hopeful Deuce felt bad for having cut himself off from his family for so long. He’d been fairly certain none of them would have approved of his line of work after he’d left the Marines.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Do Ma and Pop know you’re home?”

  “Not yet. I’d better go see the old man and make sure it’s okay with him.” There had been a bit of a dustup when Deuce had announced after he’d left the Marines that he was taking a job on the East Coast instead of returning to the ranch to help Pop run it.

  “I’ve got a small apartment over the storage shed out back,” Katelyn offered.

  “Thanks. I’ll give it some thought if it comes to that.”

  She came around the counter again and hugged him. “I’m glad you’re back, big brother.”

  He kissed her cheek, squeezed her shoulder, then let her go. “I’d better head home and see Ma and Pop. Thanks for the coffee.”

  “But you didn’t finish it.”

  “Nope. I’m not that much of a masochist.” Deuce winked at her over his shoulder and headed out the door.

  * * * *

  Deuce pulled up to the large, two-story house where he’d grown up. He got out of the truck and gazed at it with a wave of nostalgia. The house had originally been built by his great-great grandparents in the 1870s, and the family had never let it fall into disrepair.

  His mother stood alone on the porch, not surprising considering the time of day. His father and brothers would be out riding fences or moving their small cattle herd from one pasture to another.

  “Andrew, it’s really you?” Ma was the only one who called him by his given name.

  “Yes, ma’am, it is.”

  She came down from the porch and embraced him. “I’m glad you’re home. How long do you plan on staying?”

  He kissed her cheek, not surprised by the question. He hadn’t been back to the Rocking Hummingbird in the past twelve years, not since he’d begun working for Dr. G.

  “I’m home for good, if it’s okay with you and Pop.”

  “You can ask him yourself.” She ran a hand over his hair and gave him a watery smile.

  “Ma…” He hated that he’d made her cry.

  “Shh. I knew you had to live your own life. I’m glad you’re back. Pop will be, too.” She nodded beyond him, but he’d already heard the pounding of hoofbeats.

  He glanced over his shoulder. His father was galloping up on a big red gelding. All that was lacking was the hearty hi yo Silver.

  Deuce shook his head at his own facetiousness.

  “I’m going to get dinner started. You’ll stay.” It was a statement. Pop might run the ranch, but Ma ran the family.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. We’re having guests.”

  Huh? “Wait, what guests?”

  She just grinned, climbed the steps to the porch, and went into the house.

  Pop pulled the gelding to a halt and stared down at Deuce. “Your sister called your mother, and—”

  “Ma called you. I’m not surprised.” They’d always been a tight family. “But what guests?”

  Pop didn’t answer his question. Instead, he said, “It took you long enough to get here, Deuce.”

  “I came as soon as I got to town.” Although Deuce knew that wasn’t what his father meant. “I’m sorry.”

  Pop kicked free of the stirrups, swung a leg over the gelding’s withers, and slid down to the dusty ground. He dropped the reins, leaving the gelding ground-tied.

  “Nice move, Pop.”

  His father ignored that and stood there, observing him from head to toe. Finally, he said, “How long are you staying?”

  “I reckon that’s up to you.” Deuce had missed the ranch more than he’d expected, and once he had driven onto Rocking Hummingbird land, the desire to stay had become almost overpowering.

  “You reckon?”

  Deuce shrugged.

  “You expect me to hand over the Rocking Hummingbird to you?”

  �
��No. It belongs to my brothers.” Deuce had known from the time he was twelve that he wasn’t cut out to be a rancher. Joining the Marines as soon as he’d graduated from the local community college had been an easy decision. “I just came out here to see you and Ma and the boys. Kate’s offered me a place to stay—”

  His father moved then, pulling Deuce into a hug. Pop was so fast; Deuce knew that was where he’d gotten his own speed.

  “You’re welcome to stay here, you know,” Pop said, his voice gruff.

  “Thanks, Pop,” Deuce wheezed. Were his ribs going to crack? “I appreciate it. I…uh…I’d like to come home.”

  Pop pounded his back. “Stupid boy.” When he released Deuce and stepped back, his eyes were shining with tears.

  “I’ve missed you.” Deuce squeezed his shoulder. “I’ve missed the whole family.”

  “You should have come home before now, even if it was only for a visit.”

  “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t tell his father why he hadn’t been able to do that.

  Pop sighed. “I’ve got to put up Red. Why don’t you go inside?”

  “Why don’t I go with you, Pop?”

  Pop cupped the base of Deuce’s skull and gave him a shake. “Sure, son.”

  Deuce caught up the gelding’s reins, and they walked to the stable.

  “Say, Pop…”

  “Yeah?” He took the reins from Deuce’s hand.

  “Who are the guests Ma was talking about?”

  “Guests?” Pop looped the reins through a ring on a stable support and ran his palm over the chestnut neck. “That’s the first I’ve heard of any guests.”

  Then who the fuck…?

  Pop patted the gelding’s shoulder and undid the saddle’s girth. “Get me the curry comb, will you?”

  Chapter 4

  Deuce took his duffel from the truck and crossed to the porch. He could hear voices—some from the dining room, others from the kitchen—but he needed a few moments of privacy, so he climbed the stairs to his bedroom on the second floor.

  Fortunately, Ma hadn’t left it the way it had been when he’d lived there, hadn’t made it a shrine. That would have been creepy.

  He took a fresh change of clothes from his duffel, laid them on the bed, then went into the attached bathroom and turned on the shower. When the temperature was to his liking, he pulled back the curtain and stepped into the enclosure.

  He and Pop had talked about it while they groomed the gelding. Deuce would split his time between the ranch and the diner—quiet, uncomplicated jobs. Nothing that would call attention to him. To his relief, Pop hadn’t asked why a former Marine would want jobs like that.

  Deuce came out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry.

  “I wondered if you were jerking off in there.”

  Deuce came to an abrupt halt, whipped the towel off his head, and reached for the gun that was no longer under his arm. “Shit.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Ace.” He relaxed.

  “Yep.”

  Deuce stooped to retrieve the towel. “You always did have sex on your mind.”

  “Doesn’t make me a bad person.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” He draped the towel around his neck, held out his hand, and they shook. “It’s good to see you, but what the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Well, when Trip told us he was coming to find the boss, we couldn’t let him go on his own.”

  “Trip’s here as well?”

  “So is Stan.”

  “Uh huh. But Dr. G.’s your boss, and she’s in New York. At least she was the last time I spoke to her.”

  “She still is. She just isn’t our boss anymore.”

  “Huh?”

  “Let me simply say she isn’t happy with us.”

  Deuce could have groaned. “You didn’t get the kid.”

  “Nope.”

  “What happened?”

  “Get dressed, and I’ll tell you. Your mom said she’d hold dinner, but not for long.”

  “You met my mother?”

  “And your dad, your brothers, and that cute sister of yours.”

  “You even look at Katelyn, and I’ll shoot your balls off.”

  “That’s the boss we know and love.”

  “Ass.” Deuce crossed to the bed, dropped the towel from around his waist, and drew on his shorts. “Talk.”

  “Yes, sir. The woman had been working at the Contemporary, like you said, but by the time we got there, she was gone. I kind of got the feeling she may have known we were on the way.”

  “How?” Deuce stepped into the navy trousers and pulled them up his legs. He left the fly undone while he put on a light blue button-down shirt.

  Ace whistled. “You clean up real good, boss.”

  Deuce scowled at him, and then tucked his shirt into his pants and zipped up the fly.

  “Maybe she’s got friends.”

  Like Vincent? Deuce sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled on a pair of socks. “Get my half boots, would you?”

  Ace grinned and tossed them to him. Deuce caught them and placed them on the floor.

  “I’m telling you,” Ace continued, “this woman is like dust in the wind.”

  Deuce ran a hand through his hair. “How did Dr. G. take the news?”

  “How do you expect? She wasn’t happy.” Ace gave him a wry grin. “That’s one of the reasons why we tracked you down. She fired us.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “Yeah, you could say that. The thing is, we weren’t looking forward to working for anyone but you, so as soon as she cut us loose, we headed out here.”

  “Wait a second. How were you able to find me? How did you know where I was?”

  “You told Trip.”

  “What are you talking about? I never—”

  “Are you losing it, boss? When you called to let him know where we could find the kid, he asked you where you were going.”

  “Yeah, and I told him it was better he didn’t know.”

  “No, you told him you were going home.”

  Had he? But he’d have sworn…he was certain…Jesus, was Ace right? Was he losing it?

  “Trip’s a smart guy. After Dr. G. fired us, he did a little investigating of his own and tracked down your family to Woody Draw, South Dakota.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Seriously, Deuce? The guy’s in love with you.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  Deuce just stared at him. He’d been so careful…

  “Jesus, maybe it’s a good thing you got out of the business. Stan and I would have to be blind not to see you’re in love with him as well.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “We’ve had our suspicions—”

  “How long?” he asked again.

  “We figured for certain after he was shot last year.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you?”

  “Why would it? It’s your business. Anyway, we decided there was no point in hanging around the East Coast, and when Trip said he was heading west, we thought you’d appreciate it if we went along and kept an eye on him.”

  “It really was better that you didn’t know where I was. Mark Vincent might be after me.”

  “Ah. Well, in that case, it’s a good thing you’ll have the three of us watching your back.”

  “What will you do?”

  Fortunately, Ace didn’t act as if he didn’t understand what Deuce meant. “Well, your dad’s offered to teach me and Stan how to be cowboys, and when your sister mentioned you were going to be working the front counter at the diner, Trip volunteered to be her short-order cook.”

  “How the mighty have fallen.”

  “Maybe, but we’ll all live long enough to collect Social Security.”

  “Unless Vincent decides to pay us a call.”

  “We’ll deal with it if and when.” He rested a hand on Deuce’s shoulder and gave it a squ
eeze.

  Deuce felt his eyes start to burn. Damn, he had good men. He cleared his throat. “Say, since when has Trip known how to cook?”

  “I’ve been giving him lessons.”

  “Should my sister take out more insurance for her customers?”

  “Not funny, Deuce.” He poked Deuce’s shoulder. “Trip’s a damn good cook. Now, I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long time since lunch, and I’m starved. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “Let me get my boots on, and I’ll go down with you.”

  “No rush.” Ace gave him a grin and a wink, opened the door, and stood aside to let Trip enter. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, boys.” Then he pulled the door shut.

  Deuce stared at Trip, taking in the dark hair and eyes that had filled his thoughts. He cleared his throat. “Butch.”

  “Hi, boss.”

  “I…I never expected to see you here.”

  “I had to come.”

  “You know being in my vicinity could be dangerous.”

  Trip gave him a saucy grin. “I live for danger.”

  “So you’re sure you want to do this?”

  Trip’s grin morphed into a sweet smile. “Yeah. I am. Are we going to live here?”

  “I think it might be better if we lived in town. There’s an apartment over the shed behind the diner, and Kate said I could have it. I don’t think she’d object if you shared it with me.”

  “Cool. Now we can get onto more important things.” Trip raised his hand and ran his fingertips along Deuce’s jaw. “Is this okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good.” Trip stepped closer to Deuce, wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and pulled him close.

  Deuce didn’t plan to close his eyes, but the feel of Trip’s mouth on his was something that needed to be savored, and to be savored…He smiled and closed his eyes.

  * * * *

  At some point they wound up on the bed with Trip on top. Deuce liked the feel of Trip’s long, lean body pressing down on his, and the way Trip cradled his head, nuzzled his throat and jaw before returning to his lips.

  Pounding on the door broke their kiss, and they both rolled off the bed and reached for guns they weren’t carrying. They glanced at each other and exchanged sheepish grins.

  “Come on, big brother. Get your butt out here. Dinner’s getting cold.”