Once a Cowboy

“I’m hanging up because you’re not making any sense. I get confused enough on my own.”

“You know me, and please don’t use a dumb blonde joke.”

“Oh. You’re stalling for time or staking out a place somewhere.” Bless her, Naddy finally got it.

“Yes. I’ll call you as soon as I get there.”

“Whatever, child. I got work to do.”

Naddy hung up and Alex did the same, handing the phone to Brodie, who had clicked on the six o’clock news. She hadn’t even made a blip on his male radar. Her fragile ego took a nosedive and she brought her thoughts back to the job she was here to do. Get DNA evidence.

“Thank you,” she said, her eyes trailing toward the rodeo memorabilia. “Are those yours?”

He glanced at her. “Yes.”

She walked closer, staring at several silver and gold buckles. “So you’re a rodeo rider?”

“Used to be. Just a cowboy now. “

She held out her hand. “I’m Alex Donovan.”

Brodie took her hand, it was soft yet strong. Just like the lady, he thought. The moment he looked into her brown eyes he knew she wasn’t a casual type gal. “Nice girl” was written all over her pretty face—this was the type of woman he normally steered clear of. Women who wanted commitment, forever and a part of his soul in the bargain.

He chose women who didn’t get their hearts broken when he walked away, because that’s who he was—a walk-away type guy. His friends, Colter and Tripp, had found true love but he knew that wasn’t in the cards for him. Nesting wasn’t in his nature. Risking his life and staying on the move was. His father had said those were the qualities of a soldier, but he was a cowboy to the core.

Although it was true that these days he’d settled in one place. Risking his life was a day on the freeway pulling a horse trailer. Since his retirement from the rodeo, his life had changed, he had to admit that. But the woman hadn’t been made who could make him think about marriage.

Pity, he thought for a nostalgic moment, the blonde was very attractive. And something about the touch of her smooth skin against his sent his thoughts in an entirely different direction.

He released her hand. “I’m Brodie Hayes.”

“Nice to meet you.” Her smile lit up her face. Damn. She wasn’t just attractive. She was beautiful.

“I apologize for interrupting your evening.” She glanced at the TV.

The rise and fall of her breasts against the tank top caught his eye. He pulled himself up sharp. What was wrong with him? This woman wasn’t his type.

“No problem, ma’am.” He turned his attention back to the TV.

“May I please use your bathroom?”

“Down the hall to the right.” He breathed a sigh of relief as she disappeared.

ALEX HURRIED to the bathroom, locked the door and went to work. She was looking for some of his hair. Bingo. A comb lay on the vanity with black strands in it. Not many, but it might be enough.

Pulling a plastic bag out of her pocket, she slipped the comb into it, then tucked it into her shorts. She flushed the commode and quickly made her way to the den.

Brodie had his eyes on the TV and didn’t even look up.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Sure,” he replied, sparing her a brief glance.

She had no choice but to leave. He could have been friendlier. She fumed about that all the way to her car. He was probably used to having his pick of women and today he just wasn’t interested. Or he wasn’t interested in her. Why did that hurt?

She’d just invaded his privacy and had stolen something from his house, so if she never saw him again that would probably be for the best—for both of them.

All the way into the city, she knew she had the evidence to prove if Brodie Hayes was Helen Braxton’s son. She’d told Helen the odds were slim and she still believed that.

But those blue eyes were hard to ignore.

The same eyes she’d seen in the photos of the Braxton men. And in Maggie.

FROM HIS KITCHEN WINDOW, Brodie watched her drive away. He wasn’t sure what that was about, but he had a feeling the lady wasn’t lost. What was she after? Didn’t matter. He’d never see her again.

A smile tugged at his mouth. Tripp would laugh at him. Brodie was known as a charmer, a ladies’ man around the rodeo circuit. He never met a woman he didn’t like. Or who didn’t like him. So what had held him back with…what did she say her name was? Alex Donovan. That was it. What held him back from getting to know Alex better?

He walked into the den and sank into his chair. Maybe he was getting older. Maybe a nice girl wasn’t on his to-do list. Or maybe his instincts told him Alex deserved better than a walk-away cowboy.

ALEX CAME THROUGH the back door and did a double take. Naddy, with her hair in rollers, was in the utility room, stuffing clothes into the washing machine.

“Get your investigating done?” Naddy asked, pouring soap onto the clothes.

“Yes. Thanks for catching on.”

“Might take me a minute, but I always catch on.” Naddy closed the lid.

“Naddy, what are you doing?”

Naddy lifted a sharp eyebrow.

“Okay. Dumb question. I’ll try again. Why are you washing clothes? I usually have to threaten you to get you to do that.”

“I’m going to Vegas and I need clean clothes.” Naddy turned the dial and water spewed into the machine. Alex couldn’t hear over the loud noise so she pulled her grandmother into the kitchen.

“Why are you going to Vegas?”

“Can’t get those idiots in control of the case to listen to me. I’m going in person. Ethel and me are driving.”

“What!” Alex followed her into her bedroom. “You are not driving to Vegas. Absolutely not.”

“I drive just as good as when I was twenty, only better. I don’t drive as fast.”

Alex took a calming breath. “You’re not driving to Vegas in your old Buick.”

Naddy placed her hands on her hips. “Are you saying that I’m old?”

“You’re seventy-eight. What do you think?”