Dropping the Hammer Read online

  “No way of knowing. How long has it been since you were last here in Winding Creek?”

  “Going on twelve years.”

  “But you’ve surely talked since then?”

  “I call at Christmas and Father’s Day when I’m somewhere I can. The conversations are strained, awkward and short. We didn’t talk a lot more when we lived together unless he was barking orders.”

  Esther reached across the table and laid a blue-veined and wrinkled hand on his. “I know you two have had a rocky relationship and it’s mostly his doing. But he needs you, Luke. You’re the only family he’s got, and let’s face it, he’s better at making enemies than friends.”

  Dread ground in the pit of Luke’s stomach. He’d arrived at Esther’s this morning holding out a little hope that things weren’t as bad as he feared. Now he figured they were worse and there was no easy fix in sight.

  “Guess I’d better get going if I’m going to see Dad before I talk to the medical supervisor. I have a few more chores I want to get done at the ranch before I leave.”

  He finished off the rest of his coffee, stood and carried his cup to the sink.

  Esther followed him. “I’ll be gone to Grace’s baby shower this afternoon, but I’ll be home tonight or after church tomorrow if you want to discuss what comes next with Alfred or just blow off a little frustration.”

  “I may take you up on that, and I appreciate all you and the other neighbors have done.”

  “Even better, why don’t you join us for dinner tonight, Luke? It’s a night off from kitchen duties for the women, since we’re throwing the baby shower for Pierce’s wife, Grace, but Pierce and Riley are grilling.”

  “Riley Lawrence?”

  “Yes. Pierce, Riley and Tucker Lawrence. I figured you’d remember them.”

  “I remember that you and Charlie took them in for nearly a year after their parents were killed in the car crash.”

  Luke had been envious of the brothers, had wished the Kavanaughs had taken him in after his mother died instead of leaving him to take the brunt of his dad’s verbal abuse and mean disposition.

  Luke twirled the strong black brew in his mug and then sipped. “Sounds like a family reunion.”

  “I guess it is, of sorts, except that two of the Lawrence brothers are happily married and living in Winding Creek now. Tucker and Sydney have an apartment in Dallas, but with his rodeoing and Sydney’s work as an FBI agent, I think they call this home as much as anywhere else.”

  “Whatever works.”

  “That’s what I say, too,” Esther agreed. “Come to dinner tonight and the guys can catch you up on all their news.”

  “I’d love to see them if you’re sure I won’t be intruding.”

  “There’s always room for one more at my old dining room table. How about you, Luke? Are you married?”

  “Nope. Never even came close and plan to keep it that way.”

  She smiled and he could swear he saw a conspiratorial gleam in her eye.

  “Seems like I remember Pierce, Riley and Tucker saying that exact same thing not too long ago.”

  He stood to go. “Stay here,” he said. “I can let myself out.”

  “We’ll be looking for you tonight. Come hungry.”

  “I’m always hungry.”

  When he reached the short hallway, he heard voices and recognized Rachel’s at once. An unexpected surge of pleasure overrode some of the anxiety about dealing with his father.

  A decent meal and a visit with the Lawrence brothers would be nice, but it was the thought of seeing Rachel again that really cranked up his anticipation.

  * * *

  SYDNEY LAWRENCE LOOKED up from the fingernail she was applying a mending touch of red polish to as Rachel swept into the room. “Holy Smoly, do you look hot!”

  Rachel did a quick twirl in the full-skirted, jewel-toned dress and then struck a sexy pose. “Is it too dressy for an afternoon party?”

  “It’s perfect. I love the cutout at the neck.”

  “Not too much cleavage?”

  “Heavens, no. Barely a hint. Love those strappy heels, too.”

  “It was either this or one of the depressing navy or gray suits I wear to work. Oops. I used to wear to work.”

  “I have to say you’re taking your newly unemployed status well. I was afraid you’d be in the dumps and not even show.”

  “I’m not sure the full reality of my situation has hit me yet.”

  “Or maybe it has and that’s why you’re glowing.”

  “No. That’s the new blush I picked up at Macy’s last week. Dusty Fire. Guaranteed to set me apart from the crowd.”

  “From the way hunky Luke Dawkins was looking at you today, I’d say it’s surpassing promised expectations.”

  “He was just being nice and making conversation.”

  “Really? Because it sure seemed like there was a sizzle between you two when I met you at the door.”

  “Don’t even go there. My life is too screwed up right now to even notice a man.”

  But Sydney knew she had noticed. The rosy color creeping into her cheeks right now was proof of that. A casual flirtation might do Rachel good, but Sydney doubted she was emotionally ready for anything more.

  Rachel sat on the edge of the bed amid the wrapped packages. “Is Esther going to ride into town with us?” she asked, no doubt ready to direct the conversation away from Luke.

  “No, Pierce is going to drive Grace and Esther to the bakery and he’ll pick up Dani’s daughter, Constance, and bring her back here to play with his daughter, Jaci, while we party.”

  “Dad in charge. Everything around here really is a family affair,” Rachel said.

  “I know and I love it. Do you still want to keep the fact that you quit your job a secret from the rest of the family?”

  “For now. This is Grace’s special weekend. I don’t want it to turn into a whine party for me.”

  “I haven’t even had a chance to tell Tucker yet.”

  “When are you expecting him?”

  “He called a few minutes ago. He’s about an hour out, so he’ll be at the ranch by the time we get back from the party.”

  “And then you’ll forget the rest of us exist.”

  “True.” Which was exactly why she should tackle the bad news she had for Rachel now.

  She couldn’t bring herself to do it. This was the most relaxed she’d seen Rachel since she’d lived through hell. She couldn’t bring herself to spoil the moment. Tomorrow would be soon enough to drag her back into the Roy Sales hell.

  * * *

  ODDS WERE AGAINST Rachel feeling at home at a baby shower in Winding Creek. Everyone in town knew of her terrifying past.

  The saving grace was that since they knew the intimate details, no one ever mentioned it to her.

  There would be no endless questions the way there often were when she met someone new. No staring at her as if the experience made her less human now. No more expressions of pity that made Rachel feel worse instead of better about herself.

  She and Sydney grabbed the gifts from the back of Sydney’s car and joined the stream of chatting and laughing local women pouring into Dani’s Delights.

  Rachel set the wrapped baby carrier on the floor next to a long table that was already overflowing with presents. A squeal captured her attention just as Dani and Riley Lawrence’s eleven-year-old newly adopted daughter threw her arms around Rachel’s waist.

  “Yay. You came. You can go riding with us tomorrow. We have two new horses. And I’m learning to be a barrel rider. I can show you.”

  Words spilled out of Constance’s mouth so fast, Rachel could barely follow her train of thought. Constance’s excitement was contagious, exactly what Rachel needed to keep her in the here and now. “I’m staying all day tomorrow and I brought my ri
ding clothes. And I definitely want a barrel riding exhibition.”

  “I’m pretty good. One day I want to be in the rodeo like Uncle Tucker.”

  “Now, that sounds exciting. When you are, I’ll be in the stands cheering for you.”

  “Yes, but my parents say I still have to study hard at school even if horses don’t care if I know about geography and math. I hate math, especially word problems.”

  Dani appeared at her daughter’s side, opened her arms and welcomed Rachel with a warm hug. “I’m so glad you could make it. By the way, you look terrific. I need to absorb some of your fashion savvy.”

  “You’re the most popular woman in town in your chocolate-and flour-smeared white apron. If I were you, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  They laughed and then all attention turned to the front door as the guest of honor arrived, accompanied by Esther, Pierce and his daughter, Jaci.

  The baby bump was no longer just a bump. Grace was due in a matter of weeks and, with her petite frame, she looked to be all baby.

  Nonetheless, she was as beautiful as ever and Pierce helped her to the chair situated beneath a colorful balloon arch as if she was the most fragile and cherished treasure on earth.

  Someone pushed a crystal flute of sparkling champagne into Rachel’s hand. The bell around the door dinged as another group of laughing ladies entered. The party had begun and surprisingly the celebratory spirit overtook even Rachel.

  Grace sounded positively joyous and yet she’d once lived in a hellish nightmare, too. Rachel wondered if she’d ever find the kind of happiness Grace enjoyed.

  Could she let herself?

  * * *

  LUKE DAWKINS DROVE the forty-five minutes to the rehab center on the outskirts of San Antonio where his dad was receiving his care. He arrived at approximately half past two for a three o’clock appointment with the medical supervisor.

  The L-shaped building was redbrick, set in a parklike setting with several bare-branched oak trees and a few pines shading benches and small, gurgling fountains.

  Not the worst of places to be housed if you needed care, but definitely not the wide-open spaces of Arrowhead Hills.

  There was a covered drop-off area at the front door. A sign directed him to a visitor parking lot in the rear. A couple of dozen cars and trucks and two vans emblazoned with the name of the center were parked near the back entrance.

  Luke climbed out of his truck and locked it before sauntering up the narrow walk to the back door. He hesitated before opening the door, gearing himself to deal with whatever came next.

  His father had been fifty-eight when Luke cut out. A big man, over six feet tall, muscles developed from a lifetime of hard work. Rigid. Hardheaded. His way or the highway.

  But Luke himself had changed a lot in eleven years and not just physically. He was less impulsive, more prone to think before acting. Maybe time or aging and the stroke had mellowed Alfred.

  He stopped at the nurses’ station at the end of a short hallway. One nurse was at her computer. Another was on the phone. What he guessed was an aide pushed a patient in a wheelchair down the hall as Luke waited for one of the nurses to acknowledge him.

  The man in the wheelchair waved and smiled—a dead giveaway it wasn’t Alfred.

  Nurse number two, a middle-aged brunette with short hair and extremely red lipstick, hung up her phone and asked if she could help him. Her name tag said she was an RN named Louise.

  “I’m Alfred Dawkins’s son. I have an appointment.”

  Louise clapped her hands together softly as a smile lit up her face. “You must be Luke. We’ve been hoping a family member would show up.”

  “I came as soon as I could and I was assured he was not in critical condition.”

  “He’s fine, but he’s a handful to deal with. I’m sure he’ll be much easier to handle now that you’re here.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that. I also have an appointment with Carolyn Schultz.”

  “Great. I know she’s looking forward to discussing Alfred’s progress with you. She’s not here yet, but your father is in his room, probably watching TV. I’m sure you’re anxious to see him.”

  Anxious, but not eager. But he could think of no legitimate excuse to put the visit off.

  “Alfred is in Room 109, just around the corner. Now, don’t get upset if he doesn’t recognize you at once. He sometimes gets confused when he has visitors.”

  “I understand.”

  “Other times he’s clued in and recognizes visitors right away. Either way, he’s slow at getting his words out.”

  “I’ll keep my expectations low.” That should be easy enough.

  He followed the nurse to Alfred’s room. She entered before him. Alfred was propped up in a hospital bed, wearing a blue shirt only half-buttoned with food stains down the front. He looked frail and years older than Luke remembered him.

  He felt a jolt to his gut. The man in the hospital bed was not the father he remembered.

  Louise walked over and stood next to Alfred’s bed. “You have a visitor,” she announced in a cheery voice.

  Alfred grunted and pulled up his sheet before looking at Luke. For the first few seconds, there was nothing in his facial expression to indicate he recognized Luke. Then his thin lips all but disappeared in a scowl.

  Louise stood back so that Luke could step in closer. “Do you know who this is?” she asked.

  “Hell, yes. But he’s...too soon. I’m not...not dead yet.”

  That was the father he remembered.

  Welcome home, Luke Dawkins.

  Chapter Six

  Luke’s emotions had run the gauntlet over the past few hours. His nerves had skidded along for the maddening ride from concern to fuming to disgruntled exasperation. By the time he stopped behind a row of three pickup trucks at the Kavanaugh house, he was slowly inching toward reason.

  His dad hadn’t sent for him and clearly didn’t want him around. The easiest and likely the smartest thing Luke could do right now was clear out. Let his dad hire someone to run his own damn ranch any way he liked or let it go to weed and empty pastures if that was the way hardheaded Alfred Dawkins wanted it.

  But Luke had never looked for the easy way out or shirked responsibility—which left him stuck neck-deep in the dilemma of where to go from here.

  He struggled to rein in his conflicting emotions as he reached Esther’s wide front porch. He put his hand on the doorbell but didn’t push.

  Coming here was a mistake. There was no way he’d be decent dinner company tonight. Besides, judging from the trucks parked out front, he was likely late.

  Before he could cut and run, the door opened and Rachel Maxwell greeted him with a melodic hello that softened the edges of his lousy mood like magic.

  Her voice wasn’t the half of it. She’d been a knockout this morning in her jeans and cotton shirt. All fancied up, she was luscious.

  It wasn’t the dress so much as the way she wore it. The soft fabric hugged her perfect breasts and then tightened at her tiny waist before billowing out over her shapely hips.

  The skirt stopped a few inches above the knees, highlighting her dynamite calves and the straps on a pair of nosebleed heels that wrapped around her slender ankles.

  When she smiled and looked at him with those gold-specked, dusky eyes, he turned away to keep from melting. He had to pull his gaze away from her before he could speak.

  “I didn’t know we were playing dress-up. I’d have come with my boots shined and my jeans creased,” he said, determined to keep the tone light.

  She laughed and motioned him inside. “You’ll fit in perfectly. Normally I’d be in jeans myself, but I decided to go for the girly look at Grace’s baby shower this afternoon.”

  “You aced it.”

  “Thank you, I guess.”

  “Is this the
Grace who’s married to Pierce Lawrence?”

  “Yes. Have you met her?”

  “Haven’t had the pleasure.”

  “You’ll love her, guaranteed. She went home to rest awhile, but she’ll be back for dinner.”

  “Then I must be too early. I’m not crashing,” he teased. “I was actually invited by Esther, but she didn’t mention a time.”

  “The guys are doing the cooking chores tonight You can never tie them down to a time. They tend to grill for hours.”

  “Ranchers need their beef and plenty of it,” Luke said.

  “So it seems. I’m a city girl myself. Sushi and a salad are my usual Saturday night splurge.”

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.”

  “Does that mean you’re a cowboy, too?”

  “I am this week.”

  “There must be a story there.”

  “Not one you’d want to hear before dinner—or after, either, for that matter.”

  “Now you’ve really piqued my curiosity. Do you know all three of the Lawrence brothers?”

  “We went to school together many years ago.”

  “Pierce and Riley are in the backyard slaving over the hot charcoal. They may put you to work if you venture that way, but I’m sure they’d love to see you again and say hello.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  “Then follow me.”

  The view was almost as spectacular from the rear. Hard to imagine he could feel anything sensual after the visit he’d had with his father, but maybe it was his survival instincts kicking in. Or perhaps the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman in more months than he could count on his fingers and toes.

  More likely it was simply that she was a natural temptress.

  They walked through the house, onto the covered back porch and down the few steps to the yard. Mouthwatering odors spilled from a huge barrel-shaped grill.

  They walked closer and watched as Riley basted a slab of ribs with one hand. The fingers of the other hand were wrapped around a beer.

  Pierce stepped over to greet them. “Glad you could make it, Luke. Esther said she twisted your arm to accept her dinner invitation.”