Texas Rebels: Quincy

“The party’s tomorrow night so he has to come in sometime soon.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not on your life.” She vaulted onto the horse. “At the very least, Paxton owes me an explanation.”

He caught the reins of her horse before she could gallop away. “Don’t come to the party, Jenny. If you care anything about the Rebel family, you’ll stay away and not make a scene.”

“I thought you were my friend.”

“I am. That’s why I’m trying to protect you and keep you from getting hurt any further.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He loved many things about Jenny, but her stubbornness wasn’t one of them. “Mom said Paxton and his fiancée are going to stay at the ranch for a while so she can get to know the family. Maybe it would be best if you didn’t come around during that time.”

Her face crumpled. “You’re asking me not to come to the ranch anymore?”

He drew a deep breath. “Yes. I appreciate your help with the paint horses...”

“Since Paxton rejected me, the whole family now has rejected me. I love working with the horses and you’re taking that away from me, too.”

There was a limit to how much Quincy could endure and this was just about the last straw. He had to end this conversation one way or the other. “Jenny—”

“Stuff it!” she shouted and jerked the reins, charging out of the barn for the Walker property, stirring up the heat and dust.

Clyde Walker, Jenny’s dad, owned about a hundred acres that cut into Rebel Ranch. John Rebel had tried to buy it for years, as had Quincy’s mom, but Clyde was hanging on to his property.

Jenny lived so close, and she was like one of the family and was at the ranch a lot. Sometimes to see Paxton and other times just to ride the paint horses. Lately, Quincy had spent more time with her than Paxton. Looking back, he could see that wasn’t a good idea. But it was a little late to change now.

She’d be angry and hurt for a while and then he would apologize for hurting her feelings. At this time, though, he didn’t have any other choice. Maybe it was for the best. He had no future with Jenny. She belonged to his brother.

“She was pretty mad,” Jude said from the doorway.

Quincy turned toward his brother. “Yeah. Paxton didn’t tell her he’s getting married.”

“Why did you discourage her from coming to the party?”

“How do you think she’s going to feel when she sees him with another woman? I’m just trying to save her some pain.”

“Jenny and Paxton are adults and it’s their relationship. Let them sort it out.”

“Says the man who never interferes and minds his own business.”

“You bet. Ready to get those broken bales of hay off the field?”

“Yeah, sure. I was just unsaddling Red Hawk.”

Zane, Jude’s son, ran into the barn. “Hey, Uncle Quincy, I’m going to drive the tractor.”

“You got it. I’ll be right with y’all.”

Zane had just turned twelve and he was a clone of his father in looks—in personality, not so much. Jude and Paige, Jude’s girlfriend, had gotten pregnant in high school, similar to his older brother, Falcon, and his wife, Leah. Paige was incredibly smart and had received a scholarship to the University of California, Berkeley. She was torn about what to do. In the end, her future was more important than the child she carried. They’d decided to give the baby up for adoption. But Jude hadn’t been able to live with that decision. He’d gone back to the clinic and got his son and raised him. Jude hadn’t seen Paige since, nor did she know about Zane.

Quincy knew that weighed heavily on his brother’s mind. Jude was the quiet, responsible one in the family. He stayed mostly to himself, never caused trouble and was a straight-up kind of guy. He was the one everyone could depend on and trust. He carried a scar on his forehead where Ezra McCray had shot him the day John Rebel had killed Ezra. That, too, weighed on his mind.

It didn’t take them long to get the broken bales of hay off the field. Zane drove, and Jude and Quincy threw them onto a trailer in heaps. Quincy would use the hay to feed his paints. They already had three barns full of square bales and many round bales stored away. Since it was the beginning of September, hay-baling season was almost over.

Zane drove the tractor into Quincy’s barn, and Quincy and Jude jumped from the trailer to unload.

“Sorry, Quincy.” Jude removed his hat to shake hay from his hair. “We have to meet Zane’s teacher in less than an hour.”

“Aw, Dad.”

“I got it,” he told his brother. He welcomed the work, anything to get his mind off Jenny.

Just as he started to stack the hay, Elias and Jericho walked in.

Quincy straightened. “Is all hay off the ground?”

“Yes, sir.” Elias saluted. Of the seven brothers, Elias had a devil-may-care attitude that came with a dose of spit-in-your-eye.

Jericho grabbed a pitchfork. “I’ll help you stack.”

Jericho had saved his brother Egan’s life in prison and for that Kate Rebel had offered him a job. He was Egan’s friend, but now he was a friend of the family. They didn’t know much about Jericho, nor did they need to. He had more than proved himself to the family.

He stood about six-four and was an imposing character with dark features, long hair tied into a ponytail at his neck and a scar slashed across the side of his face. No one knew his nationality, but Egan said he was part white, black, Mexican and Indian. He’d grown up on the streets of Houston, involved in gangs and drugs. Today Quincy would trust the man with his life and the lives of his brothers. He had completely turned his life around.

Elias grabbed a pitchfork, too. “Can you believe ol’ Pax’s getting married? A bull must have dumped him on his head. Why get married when he has the pick of every pretty buckle bunny on the circuit?”

Quincy worked without answering. He didn’t want to have this discussion.

“And Jenny? I wonder if he’s told Jenny.”

“That’s none of our business.”

Elias leaned on the pitchfork. “There’s going to be fireworks, I tell you. Jenny Walker is not going to take this without a fight and I have a front-row seat. Oh, yeah. I see a catfight in Pax’s future.”

Again, Quincy didn’t respond. They finished unloading the hay and Quincy started to jump onto the tractor to take it back to the equipment shed, but Jericho stopped him.

“I got it, Quincy. Mr. Abe is probably waiting on his supper.”

“Thanks, Rico.”

As Rico drove the tractor and trailer from the barn, Quincy brushed hay from his clothes. It stung down the back of his shirt and clung in sweat-slick places. He needed a shower.

“I’ll see you at the house,” he said to Elias.

He and Elias lived with their Grandpa Abe, who was getting up in years and at times appeared to be a little senile. They refused to let him use the stove anymore because he’d set the house on fire twice. These days Grandpa was happy to let Quincy or Elias do all the cooking. Eden, Falcon’s daughter, helped out when she could.