Delores Fossen

Blame It On The Cowboy


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The woman got busy making an ice cream float. “Bert’ll just give them to his dogs. But you should make the next ones medium rare since that’s how Logan and Lucky like ’em.”

      Logan and Lucky.

      So, those were their names, and since it was obvious that Sissy Lee knew them, Reese would be able to pump her for information.

      The only other thing Reese knew was what she’d learned from the hotel clerk after she’d hurried back there to find the cowboy. The clerk couldn’t give her the cowboy’s name, but he’d said that he saw him driving a truck with a business sign on the side, and the only thing he could remember about the sign was that it had Spring “something or other,” Texas, on it.

      There were a lot of Spring “something or others” in Texas, Reese had learned, and that’s why it had taken her all this time to track him down. Her search had left her a little low on money so she’d stayed around and started the job at the café.

      While keeping a close eye on the burgers, Reese risked glancing up at the pair. The one at the far end of the counter glanced at her at the same time. Or maybe he, too, was just looking at the smoke because he gave no indication whatsoever that he knew her. It was possible he couldn’t even see her, though. Added to that, her hair was back to its natural color now—dark brown. And the final factor affecting this? He could have been too drunk to remember much of anything.

      “Lucky and Logan?” Reese said to Sissy Lee. “Twins, obviously.”

      Sissy Lee chuckled. Not just any ordinary chuckle. “Yeah, all the women in Spring Hill have fantasies about a threesome with those two.”

      Reese didn’t know about a threesome, but her twosome had been pretty amazing.

      “You know them well?” Reese asked, fishing while frying. She added some sliced onion to the grill, swirled it around in the grease runoff from the burger—an artery-clogging topping that Bert had told her his customers loved.

      “Of course. Everybody does. They’re the McCords. And they’ve got a brother, Riley. He’s taken, though. Actually, Lucky, the one on the left, is maybe taken, too. Everybody in town figures he’ll be popping the question to his girlfriend soon.”

      “Oh?” Reese had hoped her noncommittal response would keep Sissy Lee talking, but when it didn’t work, Reese had to come out and ask. “What about Logan? Is he involved with anyone?”

      “Was,” Sissy Lee said, lowering her voice and speaking behind her hand. “I’ll tell you all about it later,” she added just as another customer came in.

      “Carry those burgers out to Lucky and Logan when you’re done, will you?” Sissy Lee scooped up some fresh fries and put them on the sides of the plates. “I’ll give Lucky his float and take care of Daniel.”

      Judging from the dreamy way Sissy Lee said Daniel’s name, he was a juicy catch. But then Sissy Lee seemed to feel that way about every single guy who came into the café.

      Reese finished the burgers, drowning them in the fried onions and thick slabs of American cheese—again as Bert had instructed. Her waitressing skills were a little rusty, but she balanced the plates, along with two glasses of ice water, and made her way to the counter. She set down the food and drinks, thinking it might be a good idea to make a quick exit and watch the McCords from the kitchen.

      That didn’t happen.

      “You’re new here,” the one on the left said. He flashed her a smile that could have melted heavy-duty aluminum foil. He still didn’t show any signs of recognition. “I’m Lucky McCord.” He hitched his thumb to his brother. “This is Logan.”

      No melting smile from him. No sign of recognition, either. She should have asked Sissy Lee if the third brother was their triplet.

      “And you are?” Lucky asked.

      “Reese Stephens,” she said.

      Still no signs that they knew who she was, but then she’d used an alias for the hotel. Julia Child. She looked to see if either of them had caught onto the lame joke of her using a superchef’s name when she was nothing but a glorified fry cook. But nada.

      Logan checked his watch. “I just remembered a meeting I have in Bulverde,” he said, standing.

      Lucky had just taken a big sip of the float, and he had to swallow first before he could respond. “What meeting?”

      “With that seller. Could you please box this up?” he asked Reese after sparing her a glance. “I’ll have my assistant come by and pick it up later.” Logan dropped two twenties on the counter and walked out. Not in a hurry exactly but not a man who was dawdling, either.

      “It’s not you,” Lucky said, watching his brother leave. “Logan’s had it rough lately. I’m sure you’ve heard.” His gaze drifted to Sissy Lee, who had practically put herself body to body with Daniel.

      “I only arrived in town yesterday,” Reese said. “I haven’t had a chance to hear any gossip.”

      “Trust me, that’s plenty of time. Six seconds is enough time.” He paused, tilted his head to the side and looked at her. “Say, do I know you from somewhere?”

      Reese pretended to study him, too, though she knew every detail because she’d studied the selfie on her phone. Often. Dark brown hair, cool blue eyes, a face not too chiseled. But it was also a face that was a lot more relaxed than the one on her phone.

      “I think I saw you driving around town,” she finally said. “Were you in a truck with some kind of sign on the side?”

      He nodded, tackled a couple of his fries after he dragged them through some ketchup. “McCord Cattle Brokers, the family business.”

      Reese needed a bit more than that. “And it had Spring Hill, Texas, on the sign?”

      Another nod just as he took a bite of the burger.

      So, it was Lucky she’d slept with, and since Sissy Lee had already said he would likely get engaged soon, then Reese needed to figure out how to get the watch without messing things up for him. She definitely wouldn’t ask about it here. There were at least six customers seemingly hanging on their every word.

      “The trucks were Logan’s idea,” Lucky added a moment later. “Good advertising, he said. That’s why we all drive one. Even our housekeepers do.”

      All? Well, heck. That put her back to square one.

      “Man, this burger’s good. I think you’re the best cook Bert’s ever hired.”

      “Thanks,” she mumbled.

      Since it was obvious he was interested in eating his lunch and because she didn’t want to pique his attention, Reese took Logan’s plate back to the kitchen to box it. She’d barely gotten started, though, when Sissy Lee put in another hamburger order.

      “Daniel likes his burger still mooing,” Sissy Lee added.

      Sissy Lee took over the boxing duties while Reese got started. “I didn’t figure Logan would stay too long.” She shook her head. “It’s the first time he’s come over for lunch since Helene, that hick-dead girlfriend of his, messed him up.”

      As gossip went, that was fairly lacking. “How’d she mess him up?”

      “Well, that’s just it. We’re not really sure. The only person who got a glimpse of it was Walter Meekins, the taxi driver. Logan had called him to drive Riley, Claire, Lucky and Cassie back home after Logan proposed to his girlfriend.”

      Reese didn’t have a clue who Claire and Cassie were, but she didn’t want to interrupt Sissy Lee. It wouldn’t take that long to cook a rare burger, and then Sissy Lee would go back out to flirt with the customers.

      “Anyway, Walter didn’t see exactly what happened when Logan and the others went into Helene’s office,” Sissy Lee explained, “but he said he saw this clown