Texas Grit

Carrie stayed quiet, standing in the back alley. The thought of a man forcing himself on her hit Dade in a very dark place.

Finally, she nodded and took in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Dade ignored the fact that holding her hand felt different now. Of course it would—they weren’t nine-year-olds playing tag at school. Her hand was softer and more delicate, especially in comparison to his. He spent most of his time outdoors, first in the military and now on the family ranch, where he’d always been hands-on. His showed the long hours he spent in the elements. She didn’t seem to mind.

Electricity pulsed through him at the point of contact, but it couldn’t be more misplaced. She needed a friend, and the last thing he needed was another complication in his life. Besides, how many times had he vowed to explain himself to Carrie if he got the chance? Years had gone by and he hadn’t seen her. He’d been back for a few weeks now, and he’d come up with a million excuses for not telling her what he’d really want to say to her all those years ago when he’d been a jerk instead.

There were some wounds that ran so deep not even time could heal.

Chapter Two (#u3f7271c6-60c1-5148-aa6b-7e97dc7d238b)

All the words Dade had wanted to say to Carrie since high school died on his tongue. Too many years had passed and, his own guilt aside, she might not want to think about what had happened anymore. Besides, she’d escaped an assault tonight and he could clearly see how rattled she was. This wasn’t a good time to bring up more pain.

“I completely forgot to ask what you were doing in the alley,” Carrie said, stretching her legs in his truck as she fastened her seat belt.

“Trying to stay away from the media while I picked up the bronze statue my family donates to the festival.” He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine hummed to life.

“Oh, right. The cattle run kicks the festival off.” Her shoulders were still tense, her posture defensive.

“And is part of the closing ceremony, which is why I’m here carrying on the family tradition,” he added. Being a Butler came with a price.

“I heard you left town for a few days after news of your father broke.” Carrie gave him the most sincere look of compassion. “I’m sorry for your loss, Dade.”

Those words spoken with such sincerity threatened to crack the casing in his chest. Dade couldn’t afford to go there, so he focused on Carrie instead. Her lime-green shorts and cream-colored halter highlighted soft-looking pale skin. Taupe ankle boots—at least that’s what they’d called that same color of paint when he’d had his house redone—showed off her calf muscles, and Dade reminded himself that he shouldn’t be noticing any of those things about his friend.

“The Mav and I weren’t the closest, but his being gone leaves a huge hole at the ranch.” Dade thanked her for her sympathy. He gripped the steering wheel and navigated his truck away from the back street and onto Main. For the first time it struck him at how odd it must seem that he called his father Mav instead of Dad or Father like everyone else. But then, nothing about being a Butler made his life normal.

“When did you get back?” She pushed a few curling tendrils of hair from her face as she crossed those long legs.

“A few days ago,” he said, adding, “Seemed like I was needed here with the attempt on my older sister’s life and then finding out about having a sister we never knew existed.”

“I read about what’s been happening with your family. Finding out you have another sister must’ve been a shock. And then her life was in jeopardy. Right?” she asked.

“Madelyn had an ex-boyfriend with a violent streak who tracked her down and attempted to kill her,” he said. “We’re damn grateful the criminals in both cases have been caught.”

“Neither was connected to your father’s murder?” Carrie asked.

“We thought Ella’s might have been at first. Now, we know different. The Mav’s killer is still at large. Every new threat against the family has more reporters descending on Cattle Barge.”

“How’s everyone doing?” Carrie asked.

“It’s been rough.”

“I can imagine.” The note of compassion in her voice struck him, threatening to shed light in a dark place hidden behind layers of anger, frustration and regret.

“But we’re finding a new normal. Everyone’s looking out for each other.” Dade needed to armor up, and the best way to do that was to redirect the conversation. “The sheriff will need a description and the name of the guy from the alley.”

“That’s not a problem. Unless... Actually, I don’t know his last name. He introduced himself as Nash, and I never asked for his last name.” Her voice was still shaky. “He gave me the creeps every time he came into the shop.”

“A first name and description will go a long way toward helping the sheriff find him. If memory serves, the workers usually leave town early in the morning. Sheriff Sawmill or one of his deputies should have no problem locating this guy tonight.” How many men by the name of Nash could be employed by the festival?

Carrie’s cell buzzed inside her purse, and the unexpected noise caused her to jump.

“Sorry.” She stuck her hand inside the bag and came up with her phone. After checking the screen, she refused to take the call.

“Does Nash have your number?” Dade doubted it, but the question had to be asked.

“I wouldn’t give personal information to a stranger.” Her indignant tone said he’d offended her.

“He might’ve gotten it from someone else or the internet,” he offered by way of explanation.

“The phone call was my ex-boyfriend,” she stated with the kind of emphasis on the ex that said there was a story there.

Dade hadn’t thought to ask if there was someone special in her life. It made sense there would be, with her looks. A burst of light zapped his chest at the thought that she was single.

“We broke up recently, and he didn’t take it well.” Her cheeks flushed, and he wondered if he was making her feel uncomfortable talking about her relationships. He tried not to think about his, although the wounds were still fresh.

“How bad was it?” he asked.

“He said things I know he didn’t mean. He just needs time to cool off.” She shrugged it off, like it didn’t bother her, but he could tell by her tone that it did.

“That’s nothing to take lightly.” Considering one of his siblings had just been targeted by a murderous ex-boyfriend, Dade figured he owed Carrie a warning. “What happened?”

“Brett said a few things he didn’t mean. He was hurt and it came out as anger,” she defended. “He’s most likely trying to apologize. Things got a little heated.”

“It’s none of my business, but I wasn’t kidding. Take his threats seriously.” He pulled into the parking lot of the sheriff’s office and found a good spot. There was a flurry of activity. A news reporter spotted them and made a beeline toward his truck. Damn. He hadn’t anticipated this, but he should’ve. Seeing Carrie again threw him off-balance. “We could drive around the block a few times until the swarm calms down.”

“It’ll be fine.” Her voice sounded anything but.

Flashes started going off through the truck windows, blinding Dade.

Carrie’s arm came up to shield her eyes.

“I’d understand if you didn’t want to be seen with me right now,” he offered.

She touched his hand, and the contact sent electricity rocketing through him, searching for an outlet. “This is awful.”

“Yep,” he agreed. “They’re camped out everywhere. I take a breath and it’s on the news with some shrink or expert analyzing it.”

“I’ve seen some of the coverage. No one should have to go through this.” Carrie took in the kind of breath meant to fortify someone. Dade should know. It was a little too familiar. He’d done the same countless times since this whole ordeal began.

From the outside, their family probably did look perfect. No one knew the real truth. And it was too late to change the past.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” she stated with a squeeze.

“Keep your face down and feet moving. I’ll meet you around the back of the truck.” He shoved his door open, pushing back the swarm, and then hopped out. Making his way to the back of the truck proved a challenge with all the cameras in his face, but he took his own advice. The brim of his Stetson blocked out some of the shocking blasts of lights that had the effect of fireworks being lit inches from his face.

A sense of calm settled over him when he looked up and saw Carrie moving toward him. Something felt very right in that moment. He chalked it up to nostalgia. Losing his father had him wishing he could go back. Change the past. He couldn’t. So, it wouldn’t do any good to make useless wishes.