Austin Page 2

She was young and pretty. Some consolation, under the circumstances.

  “Mr. McKettrick?” she said.

  Austin nodded. “That would be me,” he told her.

  “How are you feeling?”

  If the pain is under control, I’ll release him. If not, he’ll have to stick around for more tests and some observation.

  “Never better,” Austin said, scrounging up a grin.

  She looked him over skeptically. “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m sure.”

  “You will need to see your own doctor within the next few days.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Austin agreed cheerfully. “I will surely do that.”

  Tate and Garrett exchanged suspicious glances. They’d probably figured out that he’d say just about anything he had to say to get out of that place.

  “I’m prescribing muscle relaxants,” the doctor rambled on. “But only for the short term. It is imperative, Mr. McKettrick, that you rest. I’m sure your personal physician will agree that, except for moderate exercise, definitely low-impact, you shouldn’t move around a lot for the next several weeks.”

  “Whatever you say,” Austin told her, sweet as pecan pie.

  Garrett rolled his eyes.

  Tate folded his arms and frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe our brother ought to stay here after all,” he said. “For some of that…observation.”

  Austin spoke up. “I need to get my gear from the motel room,” he said, suddenly scared that Tate might convince the doc to admit him after all. He’d spent enough time in hospitals to last him the rest of his life. “And the dog. He’ll be wondering where I went—”

  “Will you forget that damn dog?” Garrett snapped.

  “No,” Austin said, leveling a look at his brother. “I won’t forget the damn dog.”

  Garrett subsided, coloring up a little.

  The doctor gave a few more instructions, promised that a prescription would be waiting downstairs at the pharmacy by the time Austin had been wheeled down there in a chair and signed all the insurance forms. With that, she left.

  A good half an hour had gone by before they finally turned him loose. He’d scrawled his name on various dotted lines and retrieved his cell phone and wallet, along with the key to Room 3, over at the Cozy Doze Motel.

  After climbing into Tate’s truck—this time with no help from his brothers—he shook two pills out of the bottle into his palm and swallowed them dry.

  Then he directed Tate to the motel where he’d left a change of clothes and the dog he’d found cowering in the alley the first night, slat-ribbed and down on his luck.

  “Room 3,” he said as they pulled up to the crumbling adobe structure. “It’s around back.”

  Garrett turned in the front passenger seat to look at him, both eyebrows raised. “You were staying here?” he asked.

  Austin chuckled. “The Ritz was full,” he replied. Then he rolled down the back window and whistled, shrill, through his front teeth. He’d chosen the Cozy Doze because he’d wanted to keep a low profile until after he’d evened the score with Buzzsaw the night before at the rodeo. Folks in San Antonio knew him, especially around the fancier hotels, and he hadn’t wanted word of his presence to get back to his brothers before he’d had a chance to make his ride. But clearly Tate and Garrett had eventually tracked him down.

  Much to his relief, the dog he’d named Shep wriggled out from behind a pile of old tires all but overgrown by weeds, wagging his tail and lolling his tongue.

  Part German shepherd, part Lab and part a lot of other things, by the looks of him, Shep wasn’t a big dog, but he wasn’t a little one, either. He was about the same size as Harry the beagle, and his coat was probably brown, although it would be hard to tell until he’d had a bath.

  Austin tossed his room key to Tate, while Garrett got out of the truck to call the dog.

  Shep growled halfheartedly and laid his ears back. One of them was missing a chunk of hide.

  “It’s all right, boy,” Austin told the frightened animal through the open window of Tate’s rig. “This is my brother Garrett. He used to be a politician, but you can trust him just the same.”

  The dog gave a low whimper, but he wagged his tail and let his ears stand up.

  Austin pushed the truck door open. If Garrett tried to touch the poor critter, he’d be bitten for sure.

  “Come, Shep,” Austin said very quietly.

  Shep sort of slouched around Garrett, then crept over to stand on his hind legs, both front paws resting on the running board of the truck.

  “Let’s go on home,” Austin told him.

  After considering the proposition, the dog high-jumped into the rig, scrambled across Austin’s boots and clawed his way up onto the seat next to him.

  Tate appeared with Austin’s shaving kit and duffel, a five-pound sack of kibble under one arm.

  “You square on your bill and everything?” he asked, flinging the works into the truck bed. He turned to take in the sorry place once more, no doubt registering the overflowing garbage bin and the broken asphalt in the parking lot, where weeds poked up through the cracks.

  Tate shook his head.

  “Yeah,” Austin told him. “I paid in advance.”

  Tate nodded, crossed to the office to drop off the key.

  “This is a real shit hole,” Garrett observed, settling into the front passenger seat again and wearing his hotshot aviator glasses.

  Austin didn’t see any point in refuting the obvious. “Why did you and Tate track me down to Pinky’s last night?” he asked. Shep was lying down on the seat now, and Austin ran a light hand over the animal’s matted back, letting him know he’d be okay from then on.

  “You’re our kid brother,” Garrett said, sounding tired. “When nobody sees you in a while, we come looking for you. It’s what we do.”

  Tate was striding toward the truck now, resettling his hat as he moved. He opened the driver’s-side door, got in, started the engine. Although he wouldn’t have admitted as much, Austin was glad to be headed home, and glad to have his brothers’ company, even if they were a couple of royal pains in the ass.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Blue River, Texas

  November

  THE EVIL BRIDES WERE GAINING ON HER, closing the gap.

  Paige Remington ran blindly down a dark country road, legs pumping, lungs burning, her heart flailing in her throat. Slender tree branches plucked at her from either side with nimble, spidery fingers, slowing her down, and the ground turned soft under her feet.

  She pitched forward onto her hands and knees. Felt pebbles dig into her palms.

  Behind her, the brides screeched and cackled in delighted triumph.

  “This is only a dream,” Paige told herself. “Wake up.”

  Still, sleep did not release her.

  Flurries of silk and lace, glittering with tiny rhinestones and lustrous with the glow of seed pearls, swirled around her. She felt surrounded, almost smothered.

  Suddenly furious, the dream-Paige surged to her feet.

  If the monsters wanted a fight, then by God, she’d give it to them.

  Confronting her pursuers now, staring directly at them, Paige recognized the brides. They were—and at the same time, in that curious way of dreams, were not—her sisters, Libby and Julie.

  Wedding veils hid their faces, but she knew them anyway. Libby wore a luscious vintage gown of shimmering ivory, while Julie’s dress was ultramodern, a little something she’d picked up on a recent romantic getaway to Paris.

  “We just want you to try on your bridesmaid’s dress,” the pair said in creepy unison. “That’s all.”

  “No,” Paige said. “I’m not trying on the damn dress. Leave me alone.”

  They advanced on her. Garment bags had materialized in their arms.

  “But you’re our only bridesmaid,” the two chorused.

  “No!” Paige repeated, trying to retreat but stuck fast.

  It was then that a voice pe
netrated the thick surface of the dream. “Hey,” the voice said, low and male and disturbingly familiar. “You okay?”

  She felt a hand on her shoulder and woke up with a jolt.

  And a faceful of Austin McKettrick.

  “It just keeps getting worse,” she marveled, gripping the arms of the poolside chair where she’d fallen asleep after a solitary lunch in the ranch-house kitchen.

  Austin laughed, drew up a chair himself and eased into it with the care of a man much older than his twenty-eight years. His beard was coming in, buttery-brown, and his hair looked a little shaggy.

  It ought to require a license, being that good-looking.

  “Gee,” he drawled. “Thanks.”

  It galled Paige that after all this time, he could still make her heart flutter. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  Austin settled back, popping the top on a beer can, letting her know he meant to take his sweet time answering. A scruffy-looking dog meandered in and settled at his booted feet with a little huff of contented resignation.

  “I reckon if anybody’s going to demand explanations around here,” Austin said at long last, “it ought to be me. I live here, Paige.”

  She’d set herself up for that one. Even seen it coming. And she’d been unable to get out of the way.

  Paige drew a deep breath, released it slowly. “I’ve been staying in the guest suite for a couple of days,” she said after a few moments. “The lease was up on my apartment and the renovations on our old house aren’t quite finished, so—”

  Austin’s eyes were a lethal shade of blue—“heirloom” blue, as Paige thought of it, a mixture of new denim and summer sky and every hue in between. According to local legend, the McKettricks had been passing that eye color down for generations.

  He studied her for a long time before speaking again. Set the beer aside without taking a sip. “My brothers,” he said, “are marrying your sisters.”

  Paige sighed. “So I’ve heard,” she said.

  Austin ignored the slightly snippy response, went on as if she hadn’t said anything. “That means,” he told her, “that you and I are going to have to learn to be civil to each other. In spite of our history.”

  Paige recalled some of that history—youthful, frenzied lovemaking upstairs in Austin’s boyhood bedroom, the two of them dancing under the stars to music spilling from the radio in his relic of a truck.

  And the fights. She closed her eyes, remembering the fights, and her cheeks burned pink.

  “Paige?”

  She glared at him.

  “Is it a deal?” he asked quietly. “Is what a deal?” she snapped.

  Austin sighed, shoved a hand through his hair. He looked thinner than the last time she’d seen him, and shadows moved behind the light in his eyes. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was in pain—maybe physical, maybe emotional. Maybe both.

  He leaned toward her, spoke very slowly and very clearly, as though addressing a foreigner with language challenges. “Whether we like it or not, we’re going to be kin, you and me, once New Year’s rolls around. My guess is, my brothers and your sisters will still be married at the crack of doom. There’ll be a whole lot of Christmases and Thanksgivings and birthday parties to get through, over the years. All of which means—”

  “I know what it means,” Paige broke in. “And what’s with the condescending tone of voice?”

  Austin raised both eyebrows. A grin quirked at one corner of his mouth but never quite kicked in. “What’s with the bitchy attitude?” he countered. Then he snapped the fingers of his right hand. “Oh, that’s right. It’s just your normal personality.”

  Paige rode out another surge of irritation. Much as she hated to admit it, Austin had a point.

  Libby was marrying Tate. Julie was marrying Garrett. Tate’s twins, Audrey and Ava, were already part of the family, of course, and so was Julie’s little boy, Calvin. And both couples wanted more kids, right away. Oh, yes, there would be a lot of birthday parties to attend.

  “Could we try this again?” Paige asked, trying to sound unruffled.

  Austin tented his fingers under his chin and watched her with an expression of solemn merriment that was all his own. “Sure,” he replied, all fake generosity and ironic goodwill. “Go ahead and say something friendly—you can do it. Just pretend I’m a human being.”

  Paige looked away, and a deep and inexplicable sadness swept over her. “We’re never going to get anywhere at this rate,” she said.

  Time seemed to freeze for an instant, then grind into motion again, gears catching on rusty gears.

  And then Austin leaned forward, took a light grip on her hand, ran the pad of his thumb over her knuckles.

  A hot shiver went through her; he might have been touching her in all those secret, intimate places no one else had found.

  “You’re right,” Austin said, his tone husky. “We’re not. Let’s give it a shot, Paige—getting along, I mean.”

  He looked sincere. He sounded sincere.

  Watch out, Paige reminded herself silently. “Okay,” she said with dignity.

  Another silence followed. Paige, for her part, was trying to imagine what a truce between herself and Austin would actually look like. After all, they’d been at odds since that summer night, soon after they’d both graduated from high school, when Paige had caught the lying, sneaking, no-good bastard—

  She drew another deep breath, mentally untangled herself from the past. As best she could.

  They’d gotten together by accident, in the beginning—Tate and Libby were going to a movie one Friday night, and, grudgingly, Tate had brought his younger brother along. Paige had gotten the impression that their parents had insisted, and if Tate had refused, it would have been a deal breaker.

  Paige had been curled up in an armchair reading a book when Austin turned that fabled charm on her, grinned and asked if she’d like to go to a movie.

  After that, she and Austin had been as inseparable as Libby and Tate.

  Paige had thought he was playing some game at first, but after a few months, they were a couple. After a year, Paige was on the pill, and they were making love.

  Yes, she’d been in love with Austin. She’d lost—okay, given—her virginity to him, along with her trust and, of course, her heart.

  Ultimately, he’d betrayed her.

  But all that had happened just over ten years ago, before his folks, Jim and Sally McKettrick, were killed in that awful car accident, before her own dad had died of cancer. So very much had happened in the interim and, well, Paige was tired of holding a grudge.

  “You were having a bad dream before?” Austin asked presently.

  “Huh?” Paige said.

  “When I woke you up a little while ago?”

  “Yes,” she answered, smiling a little. “Thanks for that.”

  He grinned, making the pit of her stomach quiver for a moment, then reached for his can of beer. Raised it slightly in an offhand toast. “Anytime,” he said.

  The dog whimpered, chasing something in his sleep. Or running away from something.

  “Shep,” Austin said, nudging the animal gently with the toe of one boot. “Easy, now. You’re all right.”

  Paige looked down at Shep. “A stray?”

  Austin grinned again. This time, there was no smart-ass edge to his tone. “What gave him away? The matted coat? The dirt, maybe?”

  “The poor thing could use a bath,” Paige admitted. She’d always had a soft spot for animals—especially the abused, neglected and unwanted ones.

  “Garrett promised to hose him down before supper,” Austin said. The way he spoke, it was no big deal.

  Paige met his gaze, puzzled and not a little annoyed. “Supper’s a ways off,” she pointed out.

  “He’ll keep,” Austin told her. “Won’t you, Shep?”

  Paige glanced at her watch. She still had more than an hour before she was due to pick Calvin up in town, at day care. Although she was a
nurse by profession, she was between jobs at the moment, as well as between homes. Since Julie was practically meeting herself coming and going these days, between getting ready for the big wedding, holding down her teaching job at the high school and directing the student musical production, Paige had been looking after her nephew a lot lately.

  Since she adored Calvin, it was no hardship.

  She stood. “I’ll do it,” she said.

  “Do what?” Austin asked.

  “Bathe the dog,” Paige answered, proud of herself for not adding, since you can’t be bothered to do the job yourself.

  “I told you,” Austin said, frowning. “Garrett will take care of Shep when he gets home.”

  “No sense in putting it off,” Paige said, feeling sorry for the critter.

  Shep hauled himself to his feet, watching her with a combination of wariness and hope. His tail swished tentatively to one side, then the other.

  And Paige’s heart warmed and softened, like so much beeswax.

  She crouched, looked straight into the dog’s limpid brown eyes.

  “I wouldn’t hurt you,” she said very gently. “Not for the world.”

  Shep wagged again, this time with more trust, more spirit.

  “Paige,” Austin interjected cautiously, “he’s sort of wild and he probably hasn’t had his shots—”

  Paige put out a hand, let Shep sniff her fingers and palm and wrist.

  She felt something akin to exultation when he didn’t retreat. “Nonsense,” she said. “He’s a sweetheart. Aren’t you, Shep?”

  She straightened, saw that Austin was standing, too. If it hadn’t been for the dog, the man would practically have been on top of her. So to speak.

  Heat pulsed in her cheeks.

  Something mischievous and far too knowing danced in Austin’s eyes. He folded his arms and tilted his head to one side, watching her. She had no clue what he was thinking, and that was even more unsettling.

  In order to break the spell, Paige turned and headed for the main part of the house, moving resolutely.

  She felt a little zing of triumph when she glanced back and saw the dog hesitate, then fall into step behind her.

  AUSTIN COULDN’T REALLY BLAME THE DOG for trailing after Paige—watching that perfect blue-jeaned backside of hers as she walked away left him with little choice but to do likewise. Still, it stung his pride that Shep hadn’t waited for him.