Badlands Beware Page 4

  He gave her a light peck on the temple. It was something he’d always done. Tuck was the sweet Wyatt brother, if you could call any of them sweet. He had an easy affectionate streak, and he often comforted with a hug or a casual, friendly kiss.

  But his hands lingered, even if his lips didn’t. Rachel didn’t know why she noticed...why she felt something odd skitter along her skin.

  Then he cleared his throat, his hands dropping as he stepped away, and she didn’t have to think about it any longer.

  “I think it’d be best if I stay here,” he reiterated. His voice had an odd note to it that disappeared as he continued to speak. “It’ll help my investigation, and after the fire, we can’t be too careful about threats that can get through Cody’s safety measures. Everything I’ve found points to Duke leaving of his own accord.”

  Before Rachel could object to that, Tucker rolled right on.

  “I’m not saying he left because he wanted to. I’m just saying he did it on his own two feet. No one dragged him away. Even if he didn’t take a vacation like he’s saying, there might be a reason. One that doesn’t mean he’s in immediate danger. It could be he’s trying to protect you girls.”

  “You don’t really think that.”

  “Actually, so far? It’s exactly what I think. You don’t have to agree with me, Rach. You just have to give me some space to stay here and keep an eye on things, and maybe go through Duke’s room.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “Well, I’ll go through the rest of your sisters until someone agrees.”

  She huffed out an irritated breath. Of course he would, and one of her sisters would. But he could have barged in there and done it without any permission, so she would have to give him points for that. “I guess you could stay in his room, and if you poke around, it wouldn’t be any of my business.”

  “Great,” he said, sounding a mixture of pleased and relieved. “Hey, you should go back to bed. It’s three in the morning.”

  “Yeah, I just came to get a glass of water.”

  “Here, I’ll get it for you.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of getting my own water, Tucker.”

  “I know you are, but there’s nothing wrong with letting someone who’s closer to the glasses and the sink do something for you, Rach.”

  Rachel didn’t know what to say to that, even when he handed her the glass of water. So she could only take it, and head back upstairs, with those words turning over in her head.

  * * *

  TUCK WAS NOT in a great mood. Usually when he felt this edgy, he kept himself far away from his family. He wouldn’t take his temper out on anyone. Ace Wyatt might be his father, but he didn’t have to be like the man. He got to choose who he was and how he treated people.

  He was very afraid he wouldn’t treat anyone very nicely in this mood, and quite unfortunately he had to deal with Wyatts and Knights all day long.

  Tuck hated lying to his brothers. He didn’t relish lying to the Knights, either, and last night with Rachel he’d felt like a jerk. She was afraid for Duke and Tucker knew he was fine, but couldn’t tell her.

  Then there was that odd reaction to touching her bare shoulders and inappropriately noticing that Rachel’s pajamas were not exactly modest...

  Nope. He wasn’t thinking about that. Rachel was and always had been off-limits. Him and Brady had always felt like any attraction to a Knight girl was disrespectful to Duke. A good, upstanding man, great rancher, excellent, loving father, helpful and compassionate neighbor. Next to Jamison, Duke had been the Wyatt brothers’ paragon of what a man should be.

  Of course, Brady had broken that personal rule. Now here he was, in love with Cecilia. Planning a future together once they were healed.

  Tucker shook his head. Brady might be the most strict rule follower Tucker knew, but that didn’t mean Brady slipping up on one personal tenant meant Tucker would. Or could.

  He focused on the fact Brady was coming up to the Knight house, which no doubt meant Tucker was in store for a lecture from his older brother.

  “You look rough,” Brady commented, limping toward the porch where Tucker was standing, trying to get his temper under control.

  “Yeah, you, too,” he replied, then immediately winced. Brady had been shot in the leg just last month. He’d made great strides—this wound healing a lot quicker than his previous gunshot wound had.

  Because Brady had been beaten to hell and back over the course of this dangerous summer, and what had Tucker done? Not a damn thing. “I updated Cody.”

  “I’m not here for an update.” He took the stairs with the help of his cane. “I’m here to see Cecilia before she heads in to the rez.”

  “Shouldn’t she be going to you?”

  “Walking is part of my physical therapy, Tuck,” Brady replied mildly, standing in front of him and putting all his weight on one leg. “What crawled up your butt?”

  Tucker scraped his hands over his face. “Running on no sleep. Sorry. Dev’s out with Sarah, but I’ve got to stick close for Rachel. Making me a little antsy.”

  “How are you going to stick around when you’ve got work?”

  “I’ve got a call with the sheriff this morning about doing some remote work, and leaving field work to Bligh for the time being.”

  His brother frowned. “I can help out around here. Just because of the bum leg doesn’t mean I can’t be of some use.”

  Tucker could easily read Brady’s frustration with being out of commission. He couldn’t imagine the feelings of futility, especially since Brady had been dealing with months of healing, not just weeks. “A lot of it’s just research and following leads from the computer. Once I’ve got a decent thread to tug on, I’ll share it with you.” Which ignored the fact his brother could help with the watching out around the ranch, but Tuck didn’t want to go there.

  Brady nodded, then studied him a little too closely for Tuck’s comfort. “I’m trusting you, Tuck.” He nodded toward the house. “I always have. It hasn’t changed.”

  Tucker shoved his hands in his pockets. He knew Brady was referencing last month when Tucker had called in backup to get Brady and Cecilia out of a dangerous situation. There’d been some aspects of that rescue mission that Tucker had had to lie about to keep his involvement with North Star a secret, and he knew Cecilia hadn’t trusted him at all. But when push had come to shove, Brady had. It meant a lot. “Well, good. You should.”

  “I haven’t said anything, and I won’t. But maybe you could talk to Cody...”

  Tucker couldn’t let him finish his sentence, since he had a feeling it was about North Star. “This is my thing, Brady. Let it go.”

  Brady opened his mouth to say something, but the door behind them swung open.

  “I thought I heard you.” Cecilia came out in her tribal police uniform, smiling at Brady. She crossed to Brady first, gave him a kiss.

  Tucker looked away from the easy affection. It wasn’t that it bothered him. His brothers deserved that kind of good in their lives, and if they were happy, Tuck didn’t have any problem with their choice of significant other.

  He just didn’t really want to...watch it. It caused some uncomfortable itch. At first when Jamison and Cody had hooked up with their ex-girlfriends, both Knight fosters, he hadn’t felt it. But something about Gage and Brady falling for Felicity and Cecilia respectively made things...weird.

  Rachel stepped out onto the porch, and Tucker’s gut tightened with discomfort. Something he refused to acknowledge when it came to Duke’s daughter who was a good eight years younger than him.

  “Who all needs breakfast? I’m making omelets.”

  “I got fifteen minutes before I need to head out,” Cecilia said. She patted Brady’s stomach. “Don’t tell me you actually snuck away from Grandma Pauline without getting stuffed full of breakfast.”

  �
�Mak was doing his crawling demonstration. Grandma was distracted, so I made a run for it.” He had his arm casually wrapped around Cecilia’s waist. An easy unit where one hadn’t been before. They’d helped Cecilia’s friend keep her infant son, Mak, safe, and now both lived at Grandma Pauline’s, as well.

  “All right. Tucker, since you’re our sudden houseguest, you can come help me with setting the table.” Rachel smiled sunnily, then turned back into the house.

  Cecilia and Brady’s gazes were on him, a steady, disapproving unit.

  “Whatever is going on, she needs to stay far, far away from it,” Cecilia said solemnly. “I’ll give you the space to handle it, Tuck, because it seems that whatever’s going on needs that, but I’m holding you personally responsible if anything happens to Rachel.”

  “She’s not so helpless as all that,” Tucker replied, trying not to let his discomfort, or the weight of those words, show.

  “You know what I mean, whether you admit you do or not. Now you better get in there and help out.”

  Tucker had a few things to say in response, but he’d get nowhere against these two hardheads. Better to just save his breath. He had enough of a fight ahead of him—he’d just avoid the ones that were pointless.

  He stepped into the kitchen as Rachel sprinkled a ham, cheese and pepper mixture into a pan.

  “Let me guess, Cecilia was saying how you need to watch out for me or she’s going to leave you in the middle of the Badlands chained to a rock with no water.”

  Tucker couldn’t help but smile—at both the colorful specificity and how well she understood Cecilia. “It was a little less violent than all that, but the general gist.”

  “I don’t need to be babied.”

  “Believe it or not, that’s what I told her.”

  Rachel made a considering sound and said nothing else, so Tucker set out plates and silverware. He couldn’t understand why she was cooking for everyone. “Why do you go to all this trouble?”

  “It isn’t any trouble to make breakfast.”

  “You and Grandma Pauline. Cereal isn’t good enough. A frozen pizza is an affront. I happen to subsist just fine off of both when I’m at my apartment.”

  “That’s because you have us to come home to.”

  Come home to. He didn’t know why those words struck him as poignant. Of course, Grandma Pauline’s was home. It was the place he’d grown up after escaping the Sons. It was the first place he’d been safe and loved.

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “Grandma Pauline taught me that you can’t solve anyone’s problems, but you can make them comfortable while they solve their own.”

  “What about when you have problems?”

  She paused, then expertly flipped an omelet onto a plate next to her. “We aren’t the ones out fighting the bad guys,” Rachel said, and he could tell she was picking her words carefully.

  “That doesn’t mean you’re without problems.”

  She inhaled sharply, working on the next omelet with ease and skill, but she didn’t say anything to that.

  Like Grandma Pauline, she was so often at the stove it seemed a part of her. Yet she’d been blinded at the age of three, lost her mother at the age of seven. Maybe she hadn’t survived a ruthless biker gang like he had, but she had been scarred. Now he had to stay under the same roof as her and lie.

  Not just to protect her, though. He was also protecting Duke, and the life he’d built. As long as North Star brought him back in one piece, did the lies matter?

  Still, he stood frozen, watching her finish up the omelets, as Cecilia and Brady strolled in, still with their arms around each other. A few moments later, Sarah and Dev came in from the fields, bickering with the dogs weaving between them.

  The North Star worked in secrets, in following the mission regardless of feelings, and he’d made a promise when he’d signed on with them. He wouldn’t break it.

  But it was a promise to be here, to be part of these families, too. He couldn’t break that, either.

  So he had to find a compromise.

  Chapter Five

  Conversation around the breakfast table flowed the way it always did when Wyatts and Knights got together. Rapid-fire subject changes, people talking over each other, Sarah and Dev constantly disagreeing with each other.

  They avoided the topic of Duke, though it hung over them like a black cloud. Still, Rachel appreciated how hard they all tried to make it seem as though this were normal. In a way it was. They’d eaten hundreds of meals together over the years. Usually not in her kitchen, though.

  “You going to eat that, Tuck?” Sarah asked through a mouthful of omelet.

  Rachel frowned. Why wouldn’t Tucker be eating? “I can make you a different kind if you’d like.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  She heard the scrape of fork on plate and was sure Tucker had just taken a large bite. He needed to eat. He hadn’t slept, that much she’d known when she’d woken up and there’d been coffee before Sarah had even come down.

  “I’m just thinking,” he continued. “Something about this whole Duke thing doesn’t...match.”

  Whatever chatter had been going on around the table faded into silence at the mention of her father. Rachel’s appetite disappeared and she set down her fork.

  “Duke left of his own accord,” Tucker continued. “Maybe he’s being blackmailed in some way, but he left on his own two feet. With everything that’s happened this summer, I’d assume it has to do with the Sons, but there’s no evidence that it does.”

  “What else could it have to do with?” Cecilia demanded.

  “That’s what doesn’t jive. Maybe there’s something in Duke’s background we’re missing.”

  Dad’s background. “Just what exactly are you suggesting about my father?”

  “Nothing bad, Rach. Just that there’s more to the story than we’ve got.”

  “I don’t see how we can rule out the Sons,” Cecilia returned. “Not when four of Duke’s foster daughters are hooked up with four of Ace’s sons.”

  “I’m not saying rule it out. You can never rule out the Sons. I’m saying, look beyond them, too. Look at Duke. Not just where he’s gone, but why. He wasn’t taken. His house wasn’t set on fire. This is different than the times the Knights have been caught in the crossfire of the Sons.”

  Rachel heard the voice from her nightmare echo in her head. Silly. It was just a dream, and it had nothing to do with what Tucker was talking about.

  “What could Duke be hiding? We’ve been underfoot forever,” Sarah said. “Wouldn’t we know if he had some deep dark secret?”

  Secrets always hurt the innocent.

  Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the dream out of her head. It had no bearing on the actual real conversation in front of her. That voice was made up, born of stress and worry and an overactive imagination.

  She stood and pushed away from the table, abruptly taking her plate to the sink.

  “Rach—” But Cecilia was cut off by someone’s phone going off.

  Cecilia muttered a curse. “I have to get to work.”

  There was the scraping of chairs, Dev and Sarah arguing over what work they had to get back to, Brady offering thanks for the breakfast as he left with Cecilia. The voices faded away, punctuated by the squeak and slap of the screen door.

  And though he didn’t make any noise, Rachel knew Tucker was still there. Likely watching her as she cleaned up the breakfast mess.

  “Do you have something to say?” she demanded irritably, which wasn’t like her. Nothing about the past week or so felt like her. She wanted to yell and rage and punch somebody and make her life go back to the way it was.

  Weren’t you just complaining about your life staying forever the same?

  Rachel stopped washing the pan she’d used to cook the om
elets and let out a pained breath. She’d wanted change, yes, but on her terms. Not the kind of change that put her father in danger.

  “Did something I say upset you?” Tucker asked carefully. Like she was fragile and needed careful tiptoeing around.

  “Do you assume everything is about you? That’s pretty self-centered of you.”

  He was quiet for a long time, then she could hear him stacking dishes and placing them next to her so she could finish loading the dishwasher.

  “It’s just a theory, that this has something to do with Duke and not the Sons. It’s not the only theory. I’m just struggling to find any evidence that ties to the Sons.”

  “I’m sure that struggle has nothing to do with how little you want to tie your father’s gang to my father’s disappearance.”

  “Don’t be a child, Rachel,” he snapped, with enough force to make her jolt. And to feel shamed.

  “I wasn’t—”

  “I’m more aware of everything my father has done than you’ll ever know. He’s also in maximum-security prison because my brothers put their lives on the line to make it so. And so did some of your sisters. Let’s not pretend I’m under any delusion that I could ever erase the effect my father has had on your family, through no fault of your family’s.”

  The shame dug deeper, infusing her face with heat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “You meant to slap at me, and I get it. You want to take out your fear and your frustration on me and I’m usually a pretty good target. But not today. So back off.”

  Fully chastened, Rachel reached out. She found his arm and gave it a squeeze. “I am sorry.”

  She could hear him sigh as he patted her hand. “I am, too. I didn’t sleep worth a darn, and I’m not handling it well.”

  Silence settled over them, her fingers still wrapped around his arm, his big hand resting over hers. It was warm and rough. Despite being a detective, Tucker helped out at the ranch as much as he could, which was probably where he’d gotten the callouses. The big hands were just a family trait. All the Wyatts were big. She was a tall woman, but Tucker’s hands still dwarfed hers. If she flipped her hand over, so they were palm to palm—