Dropping the Hammer Read online

  “Actually, she just said ‘food’ and I jumped at the chance.”

  “As you can see, we have enough meat here to clog the arteries of a dozen more guys,” Riley said.

  “Don’t bet on it. My arteries haven’t seen a Texas meal like this in recent memory.”

  Pierce turned to Riley. “You remember Luke Dawkins, don’t you?”

  “I do.” Riley set his beer down on the worktable and extended a hand to Luke. “It’s been a while.”

  “Yes, it has. A lot of water under the bridge since those high school days.”

  “I remember you had a mean fastball,” Pierce said. “Best southpaw to ever come out of the Hill Country, the newspapers used to brag. Did you ever go pro?”

  “No. I knocked around in the Northwest for a few months and then joined the marines. Got to see the world—well, at least the stony cliffs of Afghanistan from an Apache helicopter.”

  “I’d like to hear about that one day,” Pierce said.

  “It was interesting,” Luke admitted. “But get me started and you’ve wasted an evening.”

  “Sorry about your father,” Riley said. “Have you seen him yet?”

  “Today.”

  “How’d that go?” Pierce asked.

  “It could have been worse. He could have shot me. Luckily he wasn’t toting.”

  “Sounds like the stroke didn’t affect his disposition,” Riley joked.

  “Not for the better,” Luke said. “And that is a subject best discussed when we don’t want to lose our appetites. What can I do to help with dinner? I’m great at opening cans or poking meat with a fork.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got it covered,” Pierce said. “I would suggest you and Rachel take a walk and get out of this smoke, except if she were to fall in those shoes, the height could cause major injuries.”

  Rachel’s hands flew to her hips, but the sparkle in her eyes proved it was a show of fake indignation. “You don’t like my shoes?”

  “I love your shoes,” Pierce said, “just not for walking.”

  “Walking is overrated,” Riley said. “Beer, on the other hand...”

  He reached into a cooler and pulled out two bottles of an amber brew. He opened them both and handed one to Rachel and one to Luke. “Now, you two find a less smoky spot and get better acquainted while I try to keep Pierce from burning his brisket.”

  “Don’t you worry about my brisket, bro. You just take care of your ribs.”

  “I think that’s our cue to get out of the way of the cooks,” Rachel said. “Esther is resting from the day’s activities, and I don’t want to venture into what Sydney and Tucker might be doing after spending two weeks apart. But I’m pretty sure I can make it as far as the front porch in these shoes.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Luke clinked his bottle with Rachel’s. It was the best invitation he’d had in years.

  * * *

  THE LAST RAYS of the setting sun were shooting golden streaks across the sky as Luke and Rachel settled on the porch swing. The afternoon had been unusually warm for January, but a breeze stirred now and the temperatures were dropping.

  Rachel shivered and wrapped her arms around her chest.

  Without a word, Luke shrugged out of his denim jacket and cloaked it around her shoulders. His hands brushed her neck as he did, creating a startling tingle. There was no reasonable explanation for the way his nearness affected her.

  “Now you’ll be cold,” she said. “I can step inside and get a wrap.”

  “What do you think I am, a wimp? Besides, the jacket looks far better on you. Adds a certain Texas flair to those daring shoes.”

  They both laughed and she realized that she actually felt at ease with him. That, paired with quitting her job, was probably a sign she was totally losing it.

  Luke used his foot to move the swing in a slow, rhythmic motion. “Great family you have, Rachel Maxwell.”

  “They’re not exactly my family, but they make me feel as if I am. I always feel at home here.”

  “I get that. As a kid, I loved coming here with my mother. There were always cookies and laughter and lots of times Charlie would play catcher while I worked on my fastball.”

  “Charlie must have been very special. Esther talks about him with such love. So do all the Lawrences.”

  “This family has grown significantly since my mother was alive. I need a crash course on who goes with whom.”

  “It’s not that difficult. Pierce is married to Grace, who is pregnant and due in a few weeks. You can’t confuse her with anyone else. Jaci is Pierce’s six-year-old daughter from a previous marriage, but he has custody while her mother is in Cuba with her new husband.”

  “Got it. And I know Tucker is married to your sister, Sydney, whom I met earlier.”

  “Right. And Riley is married to Dani, whom you haven’t met as yet. She is a fabulous pastry chef and owns Dani’s Delights, a bakery and coffee shop on Main Street in Winding Creek.”

  “Do they have children?”

  “They have just completed the adoption process for Dani’s orphaned niece, Constance. Constance is only eleven, but she adores Tucker and loves the rodeo. If you stay in town long enough, she’ll insist on demonstrating her barrel riding skills for you.”

  “How did Tucker and Sydney meet?”

  And this was where the fun began. Rachel’s chest tightened. She sipped her beer as she considered her answer.

  “Sydney was in Winding Creek working an investigation and Tucker was here visiting Esther and his brothers. They met and that was it. Bells ringing, birds singing, butterflies fluttering. Just like in the movies.”

  “Then you believe in love at first sight?”

  “For them. Not for everyone.” She shifted in the swing, turning toward Luke. His rugged masculinity was daunting, yet enticing.

  She’d never been particularly fond of facial hair, but his was incredibly sexy. Close-trimmed, little more than a five-o’clock shadow. She imagined how the trendy strip of hair above his mouth would tickle if they were to kiss.

  Which they weren’t going to do.

  “Tell me about yourself, Luke Dawkins,” she said, determined to change the subject before they entered forbidden territory.

  “Not a lot to tell,” Luke said.

  “You said you’re only a cowboy this week? Does that mean you’re not a die-hard rancher like Pierce, Riley and Tucker?”

  “I thought I might be at one time. That life didn’t happen for me, so I took another path.”

  “And became a marine?”

  “Eventually. That’s a lifestyle all its own, though the guys in my squad did nickname me Maverick.”

  “It could be the saunter,” Rachel said. “You authentic Texas cowboys have that down to a fine art. And you still have a bit of that Texas drawl.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Apparently not where women are concerned. Cowboys are the in thing these days. Just check out the covers of the romance novels on the shelves in your favorite bookstore.”

  “I’ll make it a point to do that,” he said, exaggerating his drawl for emphasis.

  “How long have you been a civilian again?”

  “Only three months.”

  “Has it been hard adjusting to your new life?”

  “Much more difficult than I expected. Who knew it would be so hard to find a satisfactory replacement for combat?”

  “Have you?”

  “No, but I can tell you what doesn’t work for me. Sitting at a desk all day. Bureaucracy and all the red tape that holds it together. Politics—at any level.”

  “So now you’ve come back to your roots.”

  “Not by choice. My dad had a stroke and I’m the only family he has, not that we have much of a relationship.”

  “Why
is that?”

  “He kicked me out of the house when I was eighteen and has pretty much cut me out of his life since then. That tends to cause a few bad feelings.”

  “I can see where it might.”

  “Enough about me and my charmed life. Tell me about you, or let me guess. A supermodel. Live in New York City. No dogs. One very demanding cat. Fight off the constant stream of wealthy, handsome admirers with the heels of your stilettos. Your admirers, not the cat’s.”

  “Close. I live in Houston. Alone. No cats. No dogs. Not even a goldfish. No admirers. And this is my only pair of stilettos. They cost a small fortune, so I wouldn’t dare risk breaking the heel in a fight. Basically, I’m your average dud.”

  “I’m not buying that. I see you more as a woman of mystery who possesses a multitude of intriguing secrets.”

  “No secrets. No mystery. The truth is my life is in a bit of chaos at the minute and I’ve escaped to Winding Creek for the weekend to put my concerns completely out of my mind.”

  “It’s not some man who’s caused the problem, is it? If it is, I can beat him up for you. Ooh-rah, and all that.”

  “There are no men in my life at present, at least none whose boots I’d let rest beneath my bed. What about you?”

  “I fall in love every week or two.”

  “Really?”

  “No. Got engaged once. She jilted me while I was in Afghanistan dodging IEDs.”

  “What a traitor. Want me to beat her up?”

  “Would you?”

  “Not in this dress. Bloodstains are too hard to remove.”

  He leaned back and stretched his legs in front of him. The denim of his jeans rubbed against her bare legs. Her breath caught.

  Usually that was a warning sign of an all-too-frequent panic attack. But it wasn’t anxiety that caused the tingly sensation deep inside her tonight.

  She was so not ready for this with Luke or any other man. “I should probably go and see if I can help in the kitchen,” she said.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to get rid of me?”

  “You’re welcome in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks, but I guess I’ll go out back with the guys and trade in my empty beer bottle for a full one.”

  “Good idea.”

  They both stood.

  He tipped his hat. “Nice chatting with you, Rachel Maxwell. I still think there’s a mystery that I need to get to the bottom of.”

  And that was it. He walked away while she was fighting the effect he was having on her. She couldn’t even guess what Dr. Lindquist would think about this.

  * * *

  RACHEL DIDN’T MAKE it to the kitchen. She ran into her sister in the hallway.

  “Do you have a few minutes, Rachel?”

  One look and she could tell this would not be good. She should have known things were going too well. “What’s wrong?”

  “I had the TV on while Tucker was grabbing a shower. I caught the beginning of the evening news. You were the lead story.”

  “What now, or dare I ask?” Rachel said.

  “Tucker’s getting dressed. Let’s talk in your bedroom.” She followed Rachel and closed the door behind them.

  “Hit me with it,” Rachel said, not bothering to hide her frustration.

  “You did tell me that you officially resigned from Fitch, Fitch and Bauman, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. I can’t imagine that made the news.”

  “You’re right. There was no mention of resignation. The announcement was that you, Rachel Maxwell, are going to lead the firm’s dream team representing Hayden Covey in his murder trial.”

  Rachel threw up her hands in total exasperation. “I can’t believe this. It’s beyond ludicrous.”

  “Supposedly this is straight from the mouth of Hayden’s mother.”

  Rachel dropped to the bed. “Mrs. Covey may have given the information to the reporter, but this is all Eric Fitch’s doing. He no doubt told Senator and Claire Covey that my past would influence the jury. He used me as a bargaining chip to get this case and he hasn’t bothered to let Mrs. Covey know I’m no longer in his game plan.”

  “I don’t see how letting the lie go public will help him.”

  “No, but he has a plan to either get me back or convince the Coveys that he can win Hayden’s case without me. I guarantee you that. Now I’m wondering if he was lying about being such great friends with the senator. If he was, he shouldn’t have needed me to seal the deal.”

  “It’s all backfired on him now,” Sydney said. “How did he think this would possibly work out to his advantage?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.” Rachel walked over to the table and picked up her cell phone.

  “Do you want me to leave you alone?” Sydney asked.

  “Unless you want to be here for the fireworks.”

  “I think I’ll wait for the recap.”

  Sydney let herself out the door.

  Before Rachel could make her call, the phone rang. Eric Fitch. Obviously, he’d seen the same evening news as Sydney had.

  “Hello, Mr. Fitch. I’m assuming you have a valid explanation for Mrs. Covey announcing that I’m defending her son.”

  “Don’t try to turn this into some conspiracy, Rachel. You were upset yesterday. So was I, but I’m sure we can get past this. You’re too valuable to the firm for us to lose you.”

  “That wasn’t what you said yesterday.”

  “I’m saying it now, and my son spoke for me yesterday when he told you how much we value you. I’m sure we can work something out. It would be a terrible mistake for you to resign just as we were about to make you a junior partner.”

  She dropped back to the edge of the bed. This was not playing fair.

  “Come in on Monday and we’ll talk terms on your promotion.”

  “I’m out of town and don’t plan to be back in Houston before Tuesday at the earliest.”

  “Then we’ll plan to talk then. In the meantime, don’t give any statements to the press.”

  “That’s the only promise I’m making.”

  “Of course. We’ll talk. In the meantime, let’s keep the business dealings out of the press.”

  “Perhaps you should tell Claire Covey that.”

  “I’ll handle that.”

  Rachel was certain he would, in a way that would ensure that Claire Covey didn’t take her money and high-profile case to another firm.

  She cut the conversation off and went to find Sydney to give her the lowdown.

  If she went back, she’d be the youngest junior partner at the firm. Everything she’d worked so hard for was practically in her grasp.

  And yet her heart had never felt so heavy.

  Chapter Seven

  The ribs and brisket had been delicious. So had the baked potatoes, the field peas, the green salad and Dani’s fabulous red velvet cupcakes left over from the afternoon’s baby shower.

  The food had been devoured and the kitchen cleaned a couple of hours ago. Luke lingered with some of the others at the large dining room table, talking and laughing the way he’d always imagined normal families did.

  Mostly he was captivated by Rachel, who seemed to be actively avoiding any interaction with him. Actually, she’d hardly talked to anyone since dinner. Sydney had tried several times to pull her sister into the conversation. Her attempts had elicited no more than a word or two.

  Rachel seemed lost in a world of her own, most likely the chaotic one she’d mentioned earlier. She definitely hadn’t gone to her happy place.

  Esther and the two youngsters had taken their leave to find a quieter spot for a game of Sorry. The guys were still going strong, though the events of the day were catching up with Luke.

  “The bull had it in for me,” Tucker said, talking with
his hands as much as his mouth. “It was personal. I knew it. The bull knew it. Everybody around the chutes knew it. No way was he going to give me the eight seconds I needed to win one of the most gorgeous silver belt buckles I’d ever seen.”

  “And you need another belt buckle so badly,” Riley quipped. “Just to let you know, I’m kind of siding with the bull this time. No one ever gives him a buckle.”

  “What happened?” Dani asked, ignoring the brothers’ good-natured ribbing.

  “Not a dadburn thing. The bull got his revenge the easy way, ignored me completely. I pulled every trick I knew, and that contrary beast acted like he was out on a Sunday stroll.

  “I could have stayed on it for half an hour and barely worked up a sweat.”

  “I take it that’s a bad thing,” Rachel said, finally joining in the conversation.

  “I ended up with a paltry sixty-three points when I needed to be in the high eighties to take home the buckle.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” Dani said. “You did your part. It was the bull who goofed off.”

  “It’s the luck of the draw,” Tucker explained. “All random. You get the bull they give you, but you seldom get one that doesn’t give you a decent fight. Rodeo bulls are raised to give the rider all he can handle.”

  “Still seems like you got ripped off,” Dani said. “Can you make an official complaint?”

  “Yes, and unlike the official complaints he makes to me, they take note,” Sydney teased.

  “Thankfully, I was allowed a second attempt on a different bull, since Torture II didn’t give me a fighting chance.”

  “Torture II?” Riley laughed and slapped a hand on his knee. “I love it.”

  “You would.”

  “Then what happened?” Grace asked.

  “I took home the silver buckle.”

  The men jokingly booed. The women clapped, even Rachel. Maybe he was reading too much into her mood. She might just be tired.

  Grace stood, stretched and patted her stomach. “I hate to leave such good company, but I not only eat for two these days, I sleep for two, as well. Today was a perfect day and I can’t thank you all enough for my shower, but I’m truly exhausted.”