Kael (Texas Rascals, #6) Read online

  had she experienced the same roller-coaster sensation while

  watching Kael tear out of the shute on the back of some

  wild Brahma? She’d washed her hands of him seven years

  ago and good riddance. Nevertheless, she couldn’t eradicate

  the ache that gnawed through her.

  Angry with herself, Daisy tossed her head and maneu-

  vered her grocery cart down the produce aisle, safely dis-

  tancing herself from the checkout girls and their discussion

  of the man who’d been a thorn in her side for far too long.

  Why did she care if he’d gotten hurt? If he was still dumb

  enough at age twenty-eight to keep climbing up on those

  bulls, then Kael Carmody deserved everything he got.

  Kael’s back.

  That irritating thought echoed in her mind, refusing to

  leave no matter how hard Daisy willed it away.

  Why couldn’t she stop wondering what he looked like

  and how well he’d weathered the years? Those same seven

  years that had been the most trying years of Daisy’s life.

  Years spent struggling to raise Travis, dealing with the af-

  termath of her twin sister’s death and trying desperately to

  forget that Kael Carmody ever existed.

  Get your head back on your business, Daisy Hightower

  and finish your errands, she mentally scolded herself. Hur-

  riedly, she completed her shopping and stood in line for

  Deedee to check her groceries.

  She leafed through a woman’s magazine while she

  waited, trying hard to find something that would distract

  her from thoughts of Kael but failed miserably. She won-

  dered, not for the first time, how come he hadn’t returned

  to Rascal before now.

  After paying for her purchases, Daisy wheeled her cart

  to the parking lot and loaded the groceries into Aunt

  Peavy’s old station wagon.

  Her aunt Peavy had come to live at Hightower Honey

  Farm after their parents had been killed in a car accident

  when she and Rose were just sixteen. Her sister had never

  accepted their deaths. Daisy firmly believed that Rose’s in-

  ability to move forward with her life had been the cause of

  her wild, reckless behavior and ultimately her tragic de-

  mise.

  Daisy sighed. No point fretting about something she

  couldn’t change. The past was past, and she had to keep

  looking to the future, for Travis’s sake if not her own.

  At the thought of her adopted son, Daisy’s heart swelled

  with pride. He’d be getting out of school any minute, and

  Daisy was never late picking him up. Her only regret in

  taking care of her nephew was that she had no time for

  dating. And if she couldn’t date, how could she be expected

  to find a husband? And if she couldn’t find a husband, how

  could she hope to have more children?

  A wistfulness filled her. How badly she wanted a baby

  of her own! She couldn’t love Travis any more if he’d come

  from her womb, but Daisy longed for the experience her-

  self. She wanted to be pregnant, to live through the joys

  and tribulations of bringing a child into the world.

  But not without the right man by her side. A man of

  good moral character. A man who would be there when

  she needed him. A responsible man who would always

  place his family first. A man the exact opposite of Kael

  Carmody.

  Daisy guided the station wagon down Market Street. The

  vehicle clattered when she stopped at the red light.

  It’s nothing, she assured herself. It had to be nothing, she

  could not afford car problems right now.

  A powder blue pickup sporting lots of shiny chrome

  pulled up behind her, the engine idling smoothly. Daisy

  glanced in the rearview mirror, coveting the fine truck. It

  boasted a wide bed, perfect for hauling farm equipment,

  glossy running boards and flashy floodlights mounted on

  an overhead roll bar.

  Like you could make those payments, she told herself.

  The pickup probably belonged to some drugstore cow-

  boy who’d never stepped foot on a real ranch in his fife.

  She squinted. The driver wore a straw cowboy hat and

  sunglasses, but with the tinted windows reflecting the sun’s

  glare back in her eyes, she couldn’t decipher much else

  about the man.

  The light turned green. Daisy eased her foot off the brake

  and pressed down on the accelerator. The engine surged

  loudly but the car refused to go into gear.

  Oh no! Daisy groaned. Not the transmission.

  Boss Martin at the feed store had been warning her about

  the transmission for a month. She’d put off having it looked

  at, simply because she could not spare the minimum of six

  hundred dollars it would cost to have the car repaired.

  What now?

  Praying for divine intervention, Daisy tried again, but the

  old station wagon only squealed its dismay and declined to

  budge.

  She sighed and lowered her window, motioning for the

  pickup to go around.

  The driver didn’t proceed.

  Daisy motioned again.

  He stayed right behind her.

  “Suit yourself,” she muttered. She had enough concerns

  of her own without worrying about this guy, like how to

  get to the elementary school within the next five minutes.

  The pickup’s emergency flashers came on, and the

  driver’s-side door opened.

  Great. A hero to the rescue. Daisy rolled her eyes.

  “Let him help you,” she said aloud to herself, fighting

  her natural tendencies. She had inherited the infamous

  Hightower stubbornness, and she often found it difficult to

  accept help from anyone, much less a total stranger. But in

  this case it would behoove her to swallow her pride.

  Watching through the rearview mirror, she saw one jean-

  clad leg appear, then the other. This guy moved as slow as

  Christmas.

  Brushing her hand through her hair and forcing a smile,

  Daisy got out and turned to greet the stranger.

  The apology froze on her lips.

  There, sauntering straight toward her, was Kael Car-

  mody.

  A familiar grin cocked the comers of his full mouth. The

  straw Stetson riding high on his forehead gave her a good

  view of his broad brow. His large hands rested loosely at

  his narrow hips. With mirrored sunglasses and a huge, gold,

  rodeo belt buckle glinting in the sunlight he looked cucum-

  ber cool.

  Emotions, strong and passionate, swept over her. Daisy

  caught her breath at the fierceness stabbing her chest. Many

  times she’d envisioned their chance meeting. She’d imag-

  ined herself calm, aloof, unimpressed. She had practiced

  the lines she would speak, the moves she would make.

  She’d planned to be dressed to the nines, her hair perfectly

  coifed, her nails long and buffed.

  Instead she was outfitted in her usual attire—ratty jeans,

  a simple white T-shirt and battered sneakers. She had

  pulled her hair back into a ponytail with a rubber band and

  she wore no makeup. Her
cuticles were ragged, her finger-

  nails unpolished.

  And worst of all, she had this almost irresistible urge to

  fling herself into his arms.

  “Hello, Daisy.” The words rolled off his tongue soft and

  easy, belying the taut expression on his face.

  “Kael.” She nodded, straggling to keep her self-control

  while her knees threatened to collapse beneath her.

  “Don’t I even get a hug after seven years?” He held out

  his arms.

  “Considering the circumstances of our last meeting, I

  don’t think you deserve one.”

  “I thought maybe you’d forgiven me by now.”

  “In a pig’s eye.”

  He dropped his arms to his side. “Same old Daisy.”

  Her heart tripped. “Nothing changes here in Rascal. I

  recall you once told me that.”

  “You’re a damned fine sight for sore eyes.”

  Was it a flight of her fancy, or was his voice thick?

  If he sounds emotional, Daisy Hightower, it’s probably

  because he stopped off at Mickey’s Bar for a couple of

  beers not because he’s feeling anything for you.

  “You’re more beautiful than ever.”

  “Cut the soft-soap, Kael. I’m not a gullible nineteen-

  year-old anymore.” Her heart thudded so loudly she feared

  he could hear it pounding from two feet away.

  He pursed his lips but said nothing. The sun beat down,

  scorching her scalp. Uncomfortable, Daisy transferred her

  weight from one leg to the other and folded her arms over

  her chest.

  “Aunt Peavy’s green monster giving you fits?” he ob-

  served at last, switching his scrutiny to the defunct station

  wagon.

  “Transmission.”

  Kael slipped off his sunglasses and dangled them from

  the stem.

  Daisy raised her chin.

  Their eyes met.

  Something inside her shifted. The hard, cold knot of pain

  and betrayal that had taken root in her heart seven years

  ago billowed against her rib cage, resurrecting the old bit-

  terness. She thought she’d buried her resentment against

  this man long ago. Obviously she was wrong.

  Kael dropped his gaze. Leaning over, he peered into the

  station wagon’s back seat at the brown paper sacks min-

  gling with her beekeeping supplies. “Been grocery shop-

  ping?”

  “Yes.”

  Reminding herself of all the anguish Kael Carmody had

  caused, Daisy narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips to-

  gether in a firm, unyielding line. She could not, would not,

  let him see that he still affected her like no man on earth.

  A car whizzed around them, the driver repeatedly honk-

  ing his horn.

  “We need to get you out of the road,” Kael said matter-

  of-factly, folding his sunglasses and sliding them into the

  front pocket of his light blue Westem-cut shirt. The shirt

  looked new, as did his sharply creased blue jeans and those

  fancy ostrich boots.

  “Don’t trouble yourself,” she said, battling the erotic

  sensations that assailed her whenever she peeked at him

  “I can manage.”

  “Daisy, don’t be ridiculous.” He reached out a hand to

  her, but she shied away.

  She longed to tell him to get lost, to go soak his head,

  to dam well make like a cow patty and hit the trail, but

  school was out and Travis would be waiting.

  “Okay,” she acquiesced grimly.

  A wide grin sprawled across Kael’s face as if he’d just

  stayed eight seconds on the back of the meanest Brahma

  in Texas.

  “I’ll push you off to the side, then we’ll call a wrecker.”

  She nodded. There was no money for a wrecker, but

  what else could she do? Climbing inside the station wagon,

  she waited while Kael ambled back to his truck.

  He’s trying hard not to limp, she acknowledged, sur-

  prised at the surge of sympathy arrowing through her. She

  did not want to feel sorry for Kael Carmody. He had chosen

  his lifestyle. He’d known the consequences when he’d

  climbed on that bull.

  Daisy gulped against the pain and blinked back the tears

  that threatened. After all this time, why did she still feel

  the urge to weep when she thought about what they’d both

  lost?

  Kael eased his pickup forward, and she felt the gentle

  tap as metal bumped metal. Steering the station wagon into

  the shallow ditch, she made sure she pulled completely off

  the road.

  Hands clenched into fists, she sat coaching herself to be

  calm while Kael returned to the station wagon. Without

  another word, he opened the tailgate and scooped three gro-

  cery sacks into his arms.

  His masculine scent—a combination of spicy cologne,

  musky hay and fresh clean sunshine—filled the car. The

  aroma slapped Daisy with a blast from the past.

  Memories of long summer days and cool summer nights.

  Memories of wet kisses and warm embraces. Memories of

  their mouths joined in ecstasy as they traded heady plea-

  sures.

  Enough! Daisy shook her head vehemently, grabbed the

  two remaining sacks and trailed behind Kael. What was

  past was past. There could be no going back.

  Kael took the paper bags from her and fitted them into

  his extended cab before walking around and opening the

  passenger-side door for her. “Where to?” he asked.

  “I’ve got to pick my son, Travis, up at school.”

  That ought to throw him for a loop, she thought, let him

  wonder where I got a child.

  But to her surprise, Kael merely nodded and got behind

  the wheel. “Clinton Elementary?”

  “Yes.”

  “What grade’s he in?”

  “He’s finishing first grade.”

  “Hard to believe that you have a child that old.”

  He could be your son. Daisy slid a glance in Kael’s di-

  rection. Many times over the past seven years she’d studied

  her son’s face, trying to find a resemblance to some man

  in Rascal. Her greatest fear was that she’d discover some

  similarity between the boy and Kael Carmody. But Travis

  had taken after the Hightowers with his rich auburn hair

  and fair, freckled skin. If he had any feature that matched

  Kael’s it was his hazel eyes.

  If Kael Carmody was Travis’s father, she didn’t know

  what she’d do. Even after Rose left town, Daisy had never

  once considered calling Kael and telling him he might be

  a father. What was the point? She’d known he wasn’t re-

  sponsible enough to assume the role. He’d been unable to

  surrender his rodeo career for her, why would a baby be

  any different. Let sleeping dogs lie. That was her motto.

  Daisy stared straight ahead, noticing the bug guts on the

  windshield. Anything to keep from looking at Kael Car-

  mody. Why did he have to be the one to drive up behind

  her when the green monster had picked that moment to

  expire?

  “What do you want to do about the station wagon?”

  Kael asked, easing his tru
ck through the school zone.

  “I don’t know.” Trying her best to stave off a headache,

  Daisy lifted a hand to her temple and rubbed.

  “You need money to have her towed?” he asked.

  “No!” Daisy barked. She’d crawl through the mud, on

  her hands and knees, before she’d accept money from Kael

  Carmody. She darted a quick glance in his direction.

  Kael snorted and shook his head.

  “What’s that suppose to mean?”

  “Haven’t changed a bit, have you? Still too damned

  stubborn to let anyone help.”

  “I don’t need any help,” she denied hotly.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Daisy raised her eyebrows, surprised that he hadn’t ar-

  gued further. That was different. In the past Kael would

  have insisted until their push-pull of wills dissolved into a

  shouting brawl.

  He came to a stop outside the elementary school. Dozens

  of children skipped across the lawn, happy to be released

  from another day’s learning. Daisy’s eyes searched the

  throng for Travis.

  She spotted him, sitting off by himself, gazing dreamily

  at the sky. He looked so small, so vulnerable. Many times

  she’d wondered how a woman as wild and impetuous as

  Rose Hightower had produced such a quiet, introspective

  child. Was Travis’s biological father equally introverted? If

  so, she could assuage her fears that Kael Carmody had a

  hand in the boy’s conception. Kael was most certainly not

  the shy, retiring type.

  Rolling down the window, Daisy stuck her head out and

  waved. “Travis, honey, over here.”

  The boy looked up, and a smile broke across his face.

  “Mom!” He gathered up his books and ran toward the

  pickup. Daisy opened up the door and scooted over for

  Travis to climb in beside her.

  Kael studied the thin, young boy with the serious ex-

  pression on his slender face. “Hi,” he said to him.

  Travis ducked his head.

  “Say hello,” Daisy prodded.

  “Hello,” Travis whispered. “I like your truck.”

  “Why, thank you, Travis.” Kael extended his hand

  across the cab, accidentally grazing Daisy’s shoulder. The

  contact sent white-hot sparks sizzling down his nerve end-

  ings. Gulping, Kael keep his gaze focused on the boy and

  wondered if Daisy had also felt the earth tremble. “My

  name’s Kael, by the way,” he said.