at the almost comical beep that made him think of circus cars that dumped out twenty clowns in the ring.
“I am not getting out of this car,” he shouted at them. Laying on the horn, he whistled and eased into the mass of bodies. Slowly, the herd began to move off.
Eli tunneled his fingers through his hair and fought the urge to turn the car around. He could get to Amarillo and catch a flight back to Austin tonight, be in his own bed by midnight and back in the office first thing tomorrow morning. And if it weren’t for the fact Tyson had asked for help, he would have done just that.
Damn it.
His youngest brother had never asked him for anything. Ever. The realization yoked him with heavy guilt. He’d do this for Ty and leave.
And what about Cade? his conscience whispered.
Oh, Cade had asked him for something once, had asked for the one thing he couldn’t give. He’d never forgiven Eli for saying no, either.
Eli whispered dire threats to the little car as it struggled up the final hill. It peaked and the world opened up. From the Sangre de Cristo mountain range to the west, the uninterrupted northern horizon and the plains to the east, open range spread before him with regal silence. His breath caught and his chest ached.
This would always be his place, his heritage and his home. But it seemed as foreign to him as another country, as if a passport should be required to visit his past. He was nothing more than a visitor and an unwelcome one, at that. Trying to ignore the undeniable beauty of the land and the way it called to him, soft and familiar, he put the car in gear, starting forward again. The car rattled over the washboard road. A bolt fell out from under the dash and clunked against the passenger floorboard as Eli’s teeth clattered together.
A dust trail caught his eye. Somebody was tearing through the sand hills. If Eli’d had a four-wheel drive, he would’ve ducked down a side road to avoid being seen. In this thing? He’d be dooming himself to walking, and it was way too far to the ranch to run the risk. Instead, he eased forward at the same time he rolled his window up. It would be easy enough to stay focused on the road and ignore whoever passed him. Might be the smartest thing to do, too.
He gained momentum heading down the hill, the little car bucking over the rutted road. A pickup truck roared by. Eli didn’t look up. Instead, he leaned on the accelerator, jaw tight, wheel strangled in a death grip. Habit had him flipping a hand up in absent greeting. Brake lights lit up the rearview mirror as the truck fishtailed to a stop.
Curiosity got the better of Eli. He slowed as he watched the driver’s side door swing open. The driver jumped down, boots stirring up small puffs of dust as he stormed toward the slowing car. Tall and clearly furious, the man yanked his hat off and tossed it aside without a care. Long legs ate up the distance between them. Lips thinned and eyes hardened the closer the guy came.
Eli let the car drift to a stop even as his stomach went into free fall. His mouth was so dry he couldn’t have share-cropped the space without subsidized water rights. Slipping the car into Park, he couldn’t make himself stop staring until the man was so close Eli could only see his torso in the little mirror.
Eli reached for the door handle.
The man beat him to it, yanking the door open. “Get out.”
Eli’s jaw set. “Out of the car or out of town?”
“Car first, town second.” The low voice was so raw it sounded like it had been dragged over sharp gravel.
His hands ached with the urge to clench into tight fists. “That’s not your call.”
Work-roughened hands reached into the car.
Shoving the man away, Eli lunged to stand. “What’s your—” A meaty fist connected with his jaw, whipping his head to the side. Stars exploded in his vision. Shaking his head, he rounded on the man, considering him through narrowed eyes. “What the he—” A short jab split his lip. “That’s. It.”
Eli threw himself into the fight. Grunting as the other man’s fist connected with his ribs, he spun and kicked out. He connected with a hip, forcing the bastard off him.
The man regained his balance and, chest heaving, charged Eli.
They went down in a heap, arms swinging and legs kicking as they pummeled each other for all they were worth. A hard shot to Eli’s temple made him see double. The guy grabbed him by the front of his oxford and twisted so he knelt over Eli, fist raised.
Eli set his jaw. He wouldn’t fight anymore. Not like this.
“You sorry son of a bitch,” the man gasped. “All these years. You been gone all these years. Why now?”
Eli swallowed hard. “It’s good to see you, too, brother.”
Cade Covington shoved off Eli, panting. “Can’t say the same.”
Seemed karma was determined to put the screws to him by dumping every ounce of history in his lap all at once.
Excellent.
Eli dabbed his split lip with his shirttail. “You still hit like a freaking truck.”
“You used to be faster.” Cade shook out his fist. “What’re you doing here, Eli?”
Cade’s tone was cold and Eli glanced at his brother. “Ty didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Cade asked, the words flat.
“He asked me to come home and probate the estate.”
His brother cursed, low and harsh.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Eli leaned against the little clown car and, one at a time, emptied his shoes of sand.
Cade turned away, his voice carrying on the wind. “I’ve got this covered. We don’t need your brand of help.”
The words hit Eli harder than any of Cade’s blows. He watched his younger brother, the middle of the three of them, retrieve his hat and head for his truck, his gait as long and sure as ever.
“I’ll see this through,” Eli called after him.
Cade shook his head, slapping his hat against his thigh as he paused beside his idling truck. “Why bother? You don’t want to be here, and we don’t want you. So just...go on. Get back to Austin and do whatever it is you do down there.”
Eli clenched his jaw so tight his molars ached. His nostrils flared on each exhale. “I have a client roster that proves I finish what I start.”
Cade settled his hat on his head and glanced over his shoulder. “A client roster, huh?” He shook his head and grinned sardonically. “And how many of those clients have you stuck by through the years, Eli? How many have you seen through the hard times because it was the right thing to do?” When Eli didn’t answer, Cade shook his head, grin fading. “They pay you to stick. You don’t do it because it’s the right thing, and that makes all the difference.”
“I’ve never walked out on my professional responsibilities,” Eli snapped.
“Then
