Redheaded Stranger: A Cowboy Love Story (Bluebonnet, Texas) by Amie Stuart Read Free Book Online

frustrated. It was one of the few times in their short marriage he hadn’t be able to just fix things . Kind of like now.
    "Well, that’s what your brother and his wife are going through...and you sent her flowers. Flowers? " she added, shouting now. She scowled at him, her own face as red as his probably was but for an entirely different reason. "Yes, we have Darrach, but we won't ever have that baby we lost, and neither will your brother and Betti."
    He opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to the punch, "I’m not saying you caused Betti’s miscarriage, but the upset, the mayhem and the chaos that you caused sure didn’t help. Did it?"
    Lips pursed, he shook his head, then waited and waited and waited as the silence in the kitchen stretched out long and heavy.
    Finally, with a nod, he stood and said, "I’ll be back in a little while."
    He knew what she wanted. He might not be able to make his peace with Delaney, but he was a damned Federal Agent, for Christ sake. Surely he could handle one simple apology to his sister-in-law. The front door slammed shut and a body rounded the corner, meeting him just outside the doors to his father’s den. Her .
    He took a deep, slow breath and slid his arms into his jacket while Delaney backed away, plastering herself against the wall and eyeing him as if he were a rattler. From behind closed doors came the sound of Darrach’s laughter mingled with his father’s. She twisted the knob and darted inside with a swish of her long red hair.
    The sound of her calling his father daddy was worse than fingernails down a chalkboard. Luckily, he couldn’t hear whatever else she had to say because he stepped outside and pulled the front door closed, shutting out all the chaos.
    The converted garage apartment next to his parents’ house was silent. Pete and Handy, his dad’s hands, had probably gone out for the evening. Hell, they were probably at the dancehall with the rest of Bluebonnet’s fine citizens. From the other side of the barn came the sound of cows settling in for the night; it was cold and damp and smelled like shit. Cow shit...horse shit...didn't matter. It was a smell he hadn't missed.
    Besides the cows, he only had the sound of his Nikes crunching on wet gravel to break the silence as he walked down the road to Ty’s house. He should have brought some boots, except he didn’t own any. Maybe he still had some up in his room, but they’d be so old they’d probably fall apart the minute he tried to put them back on. He buttoned his leather jacket and shoved his hands in his pockets, wishing he’d brought gloves, too. And a heavier coat.
    No matter how he felt about Delaney, he had no ill feelings toward Ty's wife. Hell, he barely knew her, other than what he could recall from their high school days.
    He quickly covered the distance to his brother’s doorstep and knocked before he lost his nerve and ended up sleeping on the couch in his father’s den. He was a goddamn FBI Agent . He could do this. He could apologize.
    The door opened and Alex grimaced slightly at the sight of Betti’s sister. How two sisters could look so different and yet not, he had no clue. Betti was blonde, tall and full-figured while Angelina was a brunette with a more slender build, and darker hair. Betti was all curves while Angelina seemed to have more sharp angles, but they both exuded that same sensuality of a woman who was well aware of her worth in the grand scheme of things. If they could have bottled it, they would have made a killing, and despite his words at Thanksgiving, Angelina Blanchard was probably no more a dyke than he was—even if she did wear those thick, ugly-ass crepe-soled boots.
    She propped her hip against the door and looked him up and down. "Oh, look—a two-legged donkey."
    Great. More crap. Just what he needed. "Is your sister awake?"
    "Not for you, don-ke !"
    He couldn’t help but smile at her exaggerated and poorly done British accent straight out of the movie