The Texan by Joan Johnston Read Free Book Online Page A

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Russell Handy—that Sam’s behavior had changed drastically.
    Sam freely admitted it was a Blackthorne who’d been responsible for the turnaround. Owen’s elder brother Trace had wanted Bay’s elder sister Callie for his wife, but Callie had argued that she couldn’t be spared from Three Oaks. So Trace had set about to make it possible for her to leave the ranch.
    He’d threatened Sam into sobering up, then arranged for a special van that Sam could drive by himself, and finally remodeled the foreman’s house so Sam could live there on his own.
    When Bay had come home after her final semester at Texas A&M, she’d found a totally different person from the Sam she’d always known. The scraggly beard was gone, and his shoulder-length chestnut-brown hair had been trimmed up over his ears. He was wearing a newly ironed Western shirt and crisp jeans and boots with a spitshine. Most importantly, his brown eyes had been clear and bright, without the red lines that spoke of a night’s dissipation, and his voice had possessed a pleasant Texas drawl without the slur that had so often marked his speech when he was drunk.
    Over the past year, he’d taken a greater interest in their Santa Gertrudis cow/calf business, and there was growing hope that this year they might recognize a profit that had been noticeably absent in years past.
    Bay hated giving thanks to a Blackthorne for anything. But Trace was clearly responsible for initiating the changes in Sam.
    Sam had the grace to look sheepish, but said, “Where is Luke? What kind of trouble is he in now?”
    Bay kept her eyes focused on her cup as she said, “While I was delivering a foal at Bitter Creek he called me … from the Big Bend.”
    “What the hell was he doing there?” Sam demanded.
    “Sam.” That was all it took for her mother to silence her brother. “Go on, Bay.”
    “Luke’s motorcycle has been found abandoned near where that Texas Ranger was shot.”
    “Oh, man. What a mess,” Sam muttered.
    “Luke had nothing to do with the theft of those VX mines,” Bay said certainly.
    “That crazy idiot. I wouldn’t put anything past him,” Sam said.
    “You can’t think he’s involved!” Bay protested.
    Sam rubbed his forehead. “No. I guess not.” He looked at Bay and said, “But he’s been gone a lot lately. Last night’s not the first time he hasn’t slept in his own bed. He messes it up so it looks like he slept in it, so you and Mom won’t worry about him.”
    Bay saw the tightening around her mother’s eyes and mouth that revealed she wasn’t as calm inside as she appeared on the outside.
    Her mother had worked in the house during the years of her marriage, so the harsh Texas sun hadn’t gotten to her complexion. She didn’t wear makeup, but she didn’t need it. Her figure was trim, almost girlish. The fine lines around her wide-set hazel eyes were the only sign that she’d endured fifty-one years of ranch life.
    “What did Luke say when he called you?” her mother asked.
    “I didn’t hear it all,” Bay admitted. “But I know he’s convinced Clay Blackthorne is involved in the theft of those VX mines.”
    Her mother hissed in a breath of air.
    “Even I find that hard to believe,” Sam admitted.
    “I went up to the Castle to see Owen Blackthorne—”
    “Why the hell would you—”
    “If you let me finish a sentence, I’ll tell you,” Bay snapped at her brother. “I thought he might be able to help.”
    “Like he helped me into this chair?”
    Bay heard the bitterness in her brother’s voice. He was never going to forgive Owen Blackthorne. He didn’t think his injury had been an accident.
    “I’m going with him when he heads into the Big Bend tomorrow morning,” Bay said.
    “The hell you are!” Sam said.
    “Someone has to go,” she said, eyeing her brother and then letting her gaze drop to his paralyzed legs. It wasn’t playing fair, but right now she was more interested in winning her