gas in his pickup.
“Aren’t you Reid Collins’s brother?” asked the only one of the boys who could still talk without drooling. “You look like him. Taller, maybe a little older. Got that same reddish-brown hair he’s got. Red River mud-color if you ask me.”
Before Charley could say anything, another drunk shook his head wildly. “No brother of Reid would be a bartender.” He burped. “Collinses are rich. Deep-pocket rich. They own more land than a cowboy can ride across in a day.”
Charley moved down the bar, hoping to slip out of being the topic of conversation. He hated the way they’d been talking about women all night, but that was better than listening to a conversation about him.
The sober one continued just loud enough for Charley to hear.
“I heard Reid had a big brother a couple of years older than him. Papa Collins disowned his oldest son. I remember Reid saying his dad ordered an armed guard to escort his brother off the ranch like he was some kind of criminal. Davis Collins told his own son that if he ever set foot on the land again, he’d have him shot for trespassing.”
Charley picked up the box of beer bottles and headed outside. He’d heard enough. He needed air.
It took several steps before the noise and smell of the bar cleared, but he walked all the way to the alley. After he set the bottles down by the trash, he stared at the open land behind the Two Step Saloon and took a deep breath. He needed clean air and space and silence. He was born for open country, and he had no idea how he’d survive working in a beer joint and living above it in a tiny two-room apartment.
Every time he swore things couldn’t get worse, they did.
Staring at the full moon, he felt like cussing or drinking his trouble away. But cussing wasn’t a habit he needed and he couldn’t afford the liquor.
He couldn’t quit and he couldn’t run. Not without a stake to start over somewhere else. Charley had a feeling that somewhere else wouldn’t fit him anyway. This part of Texas was in his blood. He belonged here even if it did seem half the people for a hundred miles around were trying to run him out.
Like a miner taking one last breath before he climbed back into the hole, Charley filled his lungs and turned around.
He saw a woman in the shadows near the back door. She was tall and perfectly built even in silhouette. Long dark hair circled over her shoulders in the breeze like a cape. For a moment he hoped she was a ghost. Lately he’d been a lot less afraid of spirits than women.
When he was five feet away he made out her face—not that he needed more than the outline of her body to know who she was. “Hello, Lexie. You miss the turnoff to the ladies room?”
Her laugh was low and sexy. She was in her thirties now, but nothing about Lexie had slipped from the beauty queen she’d been. He’d seen her come in an hour ago with some guy in a business suit and fancy boots that had probably never touched dirt.
“I followed you out, Charley.” She waited like a spider waits for a fly to land on its web. “Anyone ever tell you you’re one hell of a handsome man? Tall, lean with bedroom-blue eyes. I was trying to concentrate on my next husband, but all I could do was stare at you. You got that mixture of Prince Charming and Bad Boy down pat. I can tell how good a man is going to be in bed just by the way he moves and, honey, you are walking sex appeal.”
Charley thought of arguing. She must be blind. He was two months past due for a haircut, four days late on shaving, and he’d slept in the jeans and shirt he had on for the past two nights.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that lie before,” he answered her question. “My last stepmother told me how irresistible I was about an hour before my father disowned me.”
Lexie moved closer. “Must have been one wild hour.”
He wasn’t about to go into detail. Half the town probably already knew. He’d been screwing up his life since high school. Frogs had more sense than he did when it came to knowing the opposite sex. He’d been in his last year of college when his father, the powerful Davis Collins, finally had enough.
For once, Charley had been back home for a few days over Christmas break. He’d decided to stay at the Collins ranch headquarters and try to at least have one conversation with his father about his plans after college. Charley had studied and dreamed of taking over managing pasture that had been in his family for a hundred years. He was one semester away, and his dad was ready to hand over the work so he and his latest brainless bride could travel.
She’d been his dad’s fourth wife, young enough to be Davis Collins’s daughter. Charley had never turned down a pretty woman’s offer, and he didn’t turn her down when she came to his room wearing nothing but the bottom of her silk boxer-length pajamas. She hadn’t even said a word, just closed the door and smiled.
The rest was common knowledge. His old man found them together and kicked him off the ranch. He had everything in Charley’s room, as well as his horse, packed up and loaded in a trailer. Collins had a few of his cowhands deliver the load to Charley’s address at the university.
Charley’s accounts and credit cards were closed before New Year’s Day. He had to drop out of school and find a full-time job. So, he abandoned his dream of graduation and came home to Crossroads, Texas, where his few true friends still lived. They offered help, but after a while, he had to step away. He had to figure out life on his own. There comes a time when even working a lousy job and living in a dump is better than charity.
Only Lexie whatever-her-name-was-these-days wasn’t offering charity tonight.
“What are you doing in town, Lexie?”
“Trying to get rid of my aunt’s rundown dump of a house. You know anyone who’d want to buy it? The place is huge.”
“No.” He knew neither one of them cared about any house. They were just passing time.
“What time do you get off, Charley? We could have some fun after midnight. My sweetie has to head back to Dallas in a few minutes and I’ll be all alone.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not interested.” He unwound her arm from around his. “Maybe some other time.”
He almost ran to the open door, pushing himself back into the noise and the smells; they were a lesser kind of hell than what she was offering.
Charley stayed busy at the bar and didn’t see her leave. He just looked up and saw the table where she had been was empty. Lexie was a kind of poison he didn’t need.
A few hours later, the bar was quiet and all the drunks were gone. He washed the last of the shot glasses and headed upstairs. When he passed the bar owner, Ike Perez, Charley nodded a good-night.
“Tell Daniela to hurry on down. I don’t want to wait on her.” Perez sounded gruffer than he really was. In truth, he’d been one of the few in town to even give Charley a chance. There was lots of one-day part-time seasonal work, but he needed something regular. This job came with low pay for weekend work and a place to live.
Charley tapped on his own apartment door. Fifteen-year-old Daniela, rubbing her eyes, pulled the door open. “I know,” she mumbled. “Papa is ready to go.”
“The little princess asleep?” Charley asked as he passed