McKettricks of Texas: Garrett by Linda Lael Miller Read Free Book Online Page B

so.”
    Instead, Tate reached out, rested a hand on Garrett’s shoulder. “You okay?”
    Garrett didn’t know what to say then. Flying back from the capital, he’d rehearsed another scenario entirely—and that one hadn’t involved the sympathy and concern he saw in his brother’s eyes.
    He nodded, though he couldn’t resist qualifying that with “I’ve been better.”
    Tate let his hand fall back to his side. Folded his arms. “I caught the press conference on TV,” he said. “Cox isn’t planning to resign?”
    Garrett sighed, shoved a hand through his hair. “Hewill,” he said sadly. “Right now, he’s still trying to convince himself that the hullabaloo will blow over and everything will get back to normal.”
    â€œHow’s Nan taking all this?”
    â€œShe’s holding up okay,” Garrett said. “As far as I can tell, anyway.”
    Tate took that in. His expression was thoughtful. “Now what?” he asked, after a few moments had passed. “For you, I mean?”
    â€œI catch my breath and look for another job,” Garrett replied.
    â€œYou quit?” Tate asked, sounding surprised. If there was one thing a McKettrick didn’t do, it was desert a sinking ship. Unless, of course, that ship had been commandeered by one of the rats.
    Garrett grinned wanly. Spread his hands at his side. “I was fired,” he said.
    Now there, he thought, was a first. In living memory, he knew of no McKettrick who had ever been fired from a job. On the other hand, most of them worked for themselves, and that had been the case for generations.
    The look on Tate’s face would have been satisfying, under any other circumstances. “What?”
    Garrett chuckled. Okay, so his brother’s surprise was sort of satisfying, circumstances notwithstanding. It made up for Garrett’s skinned pride, at least a little. “The senator and I had words,” he said. “He wanted to go on as if nothing had happened. I told him that wouldn’t work—he needed to fess up, stand by his wife and his kids, if he wanted to come out of this with any credibility at all, never mind holding on to his seat in the Senate. I agreed to handle the press conference because Nan practically begged me, but when it was over, the senator informed me that my services were no longer needed.” Still enjoying Tate’s bewilderment, Garrett started toward the Cessna he’d just climbed out of, intending to roll it into the hangar. He stopped, looked back over one shoulder. “You wouldn’t be in the market for a ranch hand, would you?”
    Tate smiled, but there was a tinge of sadness to it. “Permanent or temporary?”
    â€œTemporary,” Garrett said, after a moment of recovery. “I still want to work in government. And I’ve already had a couple of offers.”
    Tate’s disappointment was visible in his face, though he was a good sport about it. “Okay,” he said. “How long is ‘temporary’?”
    Garrett wasn’t sure how to answer that. He needed time—thinking time. Horse time. “As long as it takes,” he offered.
    Tate put out a hand so they could shake on the agreement, nebulous as it was. “Fair enough,” he said.
    Garrett nodded, watched as Tate turned to walk away, open the door of his truck and step up on the running board to climb behind the wheel.
    â€œSee you in the morning,” Tate called.
    Garrett grinned, feeling strangely hopeful, as if he were on the brink of something he’d been born to do.
    But that was crazy, of course.
    He was a born politician. He belonged in Austin, if not Washington. He wanted to be a mover and a shaker, part of the solution. Working on the Silver Spur was only a stopgap measure, just as he’d told Tate.
    â€œWhat time?” he called back, standing next to the Cessna.
    Tate’s grin