Last of the Red-Hot Heroes Read online

  In fact, there was a lot about Declan she didn’t know. Three years of living in Hell, and some days felt like the first day she’d arrived. In some ways she was forever changed, and in some ways, she was still the woman who had dreams of her own, goals to keep in her sight. Michael—everything revolved around Michael. When Michael’s father had decided he didn’t want to be part of Michael’s life, Harper had picked up those pieces and moved on.

  Hell was a great place for Michael to grow up.

  She couldn’t mess that up for a dark-eyed cowboy whose every glance made her heart race. No—she’d done heart-racing before, that was a surefire recipe for disaster.

  She wondered if Declan really meant to head back to Ivy’s. Certainly Crystal had done her best to distract him, had made it clear he was a long, tall drink hunk of handsome she knew what to do with. Something had gone into Declan’s drink, though he’d tried to act like it hadn’t affected him much. Not as it had the last time, when he’d nearly drowned.

  That had been a horrible night.

  Taking a deep breath, Harper drove down the road toward town.

  Even if he did go back to Ivy’s, it was none of her business. In fact, she should go back to Ivy’s herself. Thanks to Declan doing his best to shield her, he’d messed up her mission.

  Suddenly, the mission lost its appeal. Going back would achieve nothing. Maybe that was the lesson, maybe that’s what Declan had known all along. Ivy was going to do whatever Ivy wanted.

  What she needed to do now was coach her team, in the most stringent terms. Let them know in no uncertain terms that Ivy’s was off-limits.

  Advice that would have only served to send Harper, Cameron, and Ava right back out to Ivy’s when they’d been a team. The place was a magnet, a siren-call, to men and women alike. And if you were young and full of energy as her team was…well, going to Ivy’s was a given.

  She texted the team to hang at the barn tomorrow morning until she got there. Before they saddled up for the morning routines, she’d have a chat with Winter, Cassidy, and Micaela.

  Before the situation got completely out of control.

  Chapter Four

  Holy Christmas, he had a huge axe in his skull. Whatever those dolls at the Honky-tonk used to spice up their libations, it certainly had a kick. Declan fed his horses, whistling to himself, remembering staring up at Harper, her expression worried and dismayed as he lay on the Honky-tonk hardwood floor.

  She liked him, she did. Maybe she didn’t know she did.

  It was up to him to enlighten her.

  “Gypsy,” he said to the black-and-white border collie staying close on his heels, “we really don’t need a woman, do we?”

  Gypsy brought him his work gloves. He took them, well used to this routine. Gypsy knew exactly what he needed, unlike another woman he could think of, who pretended she didn’t know what he needed—her.

  “We don’t need a woman, but after all these years, I think we’re going to have to let ourselves get caught by one.”

  Gypsy brought him a boot. Then the other one. “She’ll keep us stirred up all the time. You see what she’s done to us already.”

  The dog sat at his feet, watching him change into his work boots, good, sturdy ones made for this kind of rainy weather. “She doesn’t want a man, that’s the problem.”

  Gypsy studied him, completely out of ideas of what he might need her to bring him next. “I’m out of ideas, too. The thing is, her lips are so soft, they drive me crazy. I just know the rest of her is soft, too.”

  Laughter erupted inside the barn. Declan wondered if he’d ever get any peace from family relations. “Come out, brother.”

  Fallon stepped from the shadows, a grin on his face. “What a dumbass. When are you going to learn not to get led around by your heart?”

  Gypsy eyed Fallon with some distrust. She’d obviously known he was there because she hadn’t so much as barked a warning, so Fallon had been here a while. Probably sneaked her a treat or two to bribe her. “What do you want, Fallon?”

  “Just checking on you. I got word that you’d taken a header into the floor at Ivy’s.”

  “I’m fine.” Declan got up, grabbed a jacket and put it on. “I’ve got chores to do.”

  “Think I’ll hang around. Might drag you out for a meal when you’re done working.”

  Declan stopped buttoning the coat. “Why? We haven’t broken bread together since we were kids.”

  “Humor me.”

  “I don’t think so.” Declan went back to putting his gear on. “Give me the subject matter of what’s on your mind.”

  “A lot. We have stuff in common we should chat about.”

  “I doubt that. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You can hang out with Gypsy. Or you could help me.”

  Fallon raised a brow. “I’m okay here.” He sat on a hay bale, shrugging.

  Declan left, his mind going straight back to Harper’s soft mouth. If her lips were going to stay on his mind this much, he was going to have to kiss them again, that was all there was to it. A man couldn’t be this hot for a woman and keep himself away, not when he knew the object of his desires was made for him. And she knew it. She had to. Smoke had practically erupted around them when he’d kissed her.

  Or maybe she hadn’t felt the heat.

  That would suck big time. But he had to find out.

  The question was: how?

  * * *

  To Declan’s surprise, Fallon tagged along after him once Declan returned to the barn. Declan shrugged out of his coat, pulled off his work boots, and eyed his twin. “Whatever it is, it’s killing you.”

  Fallon shrugged. “It’s on my mind.”

  “Jeez. Quit dancing around it and spit it out.”

  “Mom says you ought to come see Dad.”

  Declan went still. “Any particular reason?” He hadn’t been home in several months, though “home” was only a town away. Hawk was close enough for Michael to go to school, it was close enough for Declan to visit.

  He wasn’t going to.

  “She says Dad wants to talk to you.”

  “Subject?” He ruffled Gypsy’s ears, grabbed a towel and dried her off. Faithful friend that she was, she’d followed him on chore duty and was now soaked to the bone.

  “Dad’s got a lot on his mind. He wants to clear the air.”

  Declan glanced around the barn. “I’m going inside. You’ll get wet if you tag along. My advice to you is not to, if all you’re planning to do is bring up that subject.”

  Fallon followed him anyway, as Declan had known he would. He went inside his house, made sure Gypsy’s paws were clean, toweled her off, and she went off with a wag, the destination being the foot of his bed. He would have liked a hot shower himself, and to rid himself of his brother most of all. Hot coffee was going to be a necessary compromise instead.

  He turned on the kettle to make instant coffee and waited out Fallon, who finally took the hint.

  “They’re old, Declan.”

  “Let’s not play that game. Just because you were always the golden child doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend we’re a happy family.”

  “Can’t you let it go?”

  His brother’s attempt at playing peacemaker would be amusing if it wasn’t so aggravating. His brother dug in, making himself comfortable in a chair. This was going to be a long siege, apparently. “It’s gone. That’s what you haven’t figured out, all my emotions are pretty spent on that subject. I wish them well, I just don’t need them in my life.” He stirred instant coffee into a mug, decided the fact that they shared genes demanded he hand Fallon a mug as well. “You and our parents were a match, from the day we were born. I was slower, not as good-looking, not as smart, some would say, as you. Dad never saw my gifts the same as yours.”

  Fallon opened his mouth to interrupt, and Declan held up a hand. “I’m just reminding you how we got to this place. When I went into the service, Dad didn’t speak to me, except to say I’d never make it.
I wasn’t tough enough, strong enough, smart enough. Same thing he’d said when I decided to rodeo as a kid.” He shrugged. “If I hadn’t fallen in with Trace and Saint, I don’t know where I’d be.” He wasn’t going to bring up the endless beatings. They hadn’t been bad, but they’d been constant. Fallon, of course, had never been hit a day in his easygoing life. Their mother had never stood up for Declan, either. And Fallon had loved piling on, his favorite game misbehaving and then blaming it on Declan.

  At sixteen, Declan had enough. He’d moved in with Trace’s family, then gone to BUDs with Trace and Saint. That was his real family. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. The faster you leave, the better off we’ll both be.”

  “Dad regrets everything,” Fallon said. “So do I.”

  Declan looked out the window, seeing the rain had ceased. His beautiful horses, his “yard ornaments,” nosed along the fence, looking for him, no doubt. He smiled. “Fallon, don’t live your life with regrets. Life’s too damn short for that. And besides, regret never changed anything. I’ve got to get back to work.”

  He left Fallon standing in the kitchen and went out into the slow-building sunshine, the clouds parting and casting a golden glow over his pool and the spotted horses. This was the most beautiful place on earth. He’d created all the beauty he needed in his life, everything he’d needed to shore up old wounds, was right here.

  The only thing that could possibly make it better is if Harper was here to share it with me.

  It was such a stray and weird thought that it caught him off guard. Then he relaxed.

  He was in no danger from his emotions at all. They’d been so tightly wrapped up and stored for so many years that nothing, not even his trouble-making brother, nor a sexy blonde who was on a collision course with town baddies, could force him to feel a thing.

  He was in lockdown mode, and he was staying that way. Protective—but not involved.

  At least that’s what he told himself—now that the past was trying to rear its ugly, ugly head.

  * * *

  Harper studied her team, realizing her new recruits had a partnership amongst themselves, aligning against her. And probably all figures of authority. She remembered that age all too well.

  Was I any different? I had a child out of wedlock, directly against my parents’ wishes. And Michael’s father hadn’t wanted to be a dad, either.

  She had her fair share of rebel in her.

  Cassidy, Winter, and Micaela lounged against the office wall, wearing expressions that didn’t promise pleasant dialogue. She was borrowing Declan’s office for this chat, and though he wasn’t here, she felt somehow comforted by taking over his desk and chair. He always looked so at home in this office, like it would be a part of his life for a long time. The Training Center meant so much to him, and to all the Outlaws.

  “Here’s the thing,” she told her team, “There’s a rumor you were out at Ivy’s.”

  Winter shrugged, her expression so-what? “Rumors are just rumors.”

  “Are you saying you weren’t?” Harper asked.

  Micaela pushed sandy hair behind her ear, by far the team member with the most innocent expression, always. “When were we out there?”

  “I’ll kick you off the team if I find out you’re lying to me.”

  They studied her, an air of calculation settling over them. “Here’s the deal. Ivy’s is off-limits, as I mentioned before,” Harper said, deciding to move on to the point of the meeting.

  “Yeah, about that,” Cassidy said. Easily the ringleader of the pack so far, the other girls perked up when she spoke. Her long, dark hair settled over her shoulder in a wandering braid, wrestled from its rubber band by a dedicated riding session. “According to Hell tattletales, you were no stranger to Ivy’s yourself when you were on Judy’s team.”

  “And speaking of you being on the team,” Winter said, her dark eyes practically opaque with mischief, “we hear you’re the last gasp chance for the mayor to put Hell on the map with female bullfighters. Although she says you’re way behind schedule.”

  Harper looked at her team, clearly planning to test her early in the game. “That was Judy’s dream, but a lot has happened since then. So Mayor Judy’s the tattletale—a phrase I don’t find very respectful, by the way—who told you I’d gone to Ivy’s when I was training?”

  “Well, it was a long time ago,” Micaela said, “back when you were younger. Ivy’s is a lot more reputable now.”

  Harper laughed. “I don’t think the mayor told you that.”

  “Anyway,” Cassidy said, “it’s no big deal. Why are you on us about something that doesn’t matter? This should be a training meeting only. You haven’t had your mind on this team in the past couple of days.”

  A mutiny. Apparently spurred on by the good mayor, who still felt a few shards of resentment that Harper had taken over her team. She couldn’t say she hadn’t been warned that Judy was upset with her—even Declan had mentioned it.

  “The rules are the rules,” she stated, her tone no-nonsense. “The reason there are rules is because I promised your families you’d be strictly monitored, trained and chaperoned while you were here.”

  They snickered at that, sending each other laughing looks.

  “Why are you here?” Harper asked. “If you’re not going to take training seriously?”

  “We’re better than you ever were as a team,” Cassidy said quietly. “Judy says so.”

  Yes, you’re better as a team, because the rules are different, the structure is different, and I’m training you the way I knew we should have been trained.

  “You wouldn’t have survived on our team.” Harper stood. “Meeting is adjourned. Head back to the Honeysuckle Bungalow. At six o’clock sharp, be at my truck.”

  “Redfeather’s for dinner again?” Winter asked. “The only reason you drag us there is because you want to make eyes at Declan.”

  “I don’t know why,” Cassidy said. “If they weren’t all so old, I’d go for Fallon. He’s way hotter than Declan.”

  “Old?” Harper stared at them. “Old?”

  “Yes, old.” Micaela nodded. “If you want him so badly, you ought to make sure you do something to keep him.”

  “Thank you for that advice.” Harper opened the door. “I wasn’t aware we were also running a dating service. Be ready.”

  “But Redfeather's isn’t edible!” Cassidy complained as she went out the door. “We won’t even know what Stephen’s serving!”

  “It’s not identifiable,” Winter said, backing up her friend.

  “I think I saw a recipe for what he serves scratched on a table,” Micaela said, following her teammates. “Think it was called butt stew.”

  “Ass stew,” Cassidy said, and Winter said, “Hairy ass stew,” and they went off laughing, convinced they’d put Harper in her place.

  “It’s not so easy, is it, running a team?”

  Harper whipped around, finding Mayor Judy standing in one of the stalls, having helped herself to a full earful of Harper’s conversation with her team.

  “It’s fine, Judy.” Harper studied the mayor, seeing that her color looked good today. She clearly had energy, too, or she wouldn’t be up to her eavesdropping, potstirring ways. The bout with breast cancer had left the six-foot tall Dolly Parton-lookalike standing a little less firm in her boots, but she was still a gorgeous woman. Her hair—wig—was still piled high in lustrous shock-white puffs, her big eyes shining with laughter at Harper’s expense. She wore pink jeans sprayed to her curves and twinkling with rhinestones, her white blouse trimmed with fringe and blue roses. Judy was a top-notch draw for thinking up ways to sell Hell beyond its wild-reputation borders.

  Everybody loved the mayor.

  “You’ll be fine,” Judy said, “but I’m not so sure about them.”

  “A little less interference from you might help.”

  “I only told the truth.” Judy shrugged. “You and Ava and Cameron weren’t exactly the most obedient
team.”

  “Yes, but we figured out mischief on our own. I don’t need you performing the services of ringleader for my team, thanks.”

  Judy smiled. “You think I’m acting out of selfish motives.”

  “Judy, I love you. But in your desire to build this town, and win the battle with Ivy, yes, you’ve been known to act out of selfish motives.” Harper looked at her. “You’ve also done a lot of good. There’s no bigger cheerleader for Hell. Just stay away from my team while you’re dreaming big dreams for Hell.”

  “I’m not dreaming them for Hell. I’m dreaming them for you.”

  Harper raised a brow. “You’re trying to undermine my team so I’m known far and wide as a bad trainer? That’s how you dream dreams for me?”

  “Harper,” Judy said earnestly, “You’re strong. Tough. Talented. You have a gift.”

  She didn’t want to admit that her soul leaned toward that praise, words she never heard in her own home as a child. Slight burning jumped to the back of her eyes, but she ignored that. “You can’t run everybody in this town, Judy.”

  “I think you’re afraid,” Judy said softly. “I think you’re afraid to test yourself as a bullfighter because of your son.”

  Harper looked away. “I have a team to run. Some people would say that running a business is just as challenging as being in the arena.”

  Judy looked at her for a long moment. “Do you remember what you told me when I first interviewed you for the team, Harper?”

  Harper gazed at the mayor silently, knowing what was coming.

  “You told me you wanted this chance more than anything. When I expressed doubts as to why a young single mother would want to leave her family, her community, and take a shot at a dangerous profession, you told me you wanted to be a mother and a bullfighter. That you could do it all. But that mainly, you wanted to do it for your son, so that he would know that his mother hadn’t been trapped, hadn’t been forced to give up her life for him. And so he’d be proud of his mother. Because you said women should be strong, no matter what.”