in the day, Senator Kelley had told him not to get on the housekeeper’s bad side. “She’s a piece of work that one. Been here since my father first built the ranch. She gave me my first spanking when I was four.”
Gage inclined his head. “Roger that, ma’am. I won’t disturb your kitchen.”
She gave him a satisfied grin. “Good. I think we’ll get along just fine.” She tugged on the sleeve of her sweater as she headed to the kitchen with Ace at her feet. “Tell Hank breakfast is at five. I want Cole to have a good meal before he heads out. If Hank wants to take refuge here while his girlfriends are stirring up trouble, it’s not my place to tell him no. But he can keep to the ranch’s clock,” she tossed over her shoulder in a clipped tone. “I won’t be cooking two sets of meals every day just so he can keep a gentleman’s schedule.”
Gage gave a grunt of amusement. Cole Kelley’s housekeeper reminded him of a few COs he’d had in recent years.
The sound of raised voices led Gage to the living room. Senator Kelley and his son stood on opposite sides of the room glaring at each other as they exchanged verbal volleys. Bart stood just behind the senator with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Do you ever think about anyone besides yourself?” Cole shouted at his father. “Are you really so stupid that you thought no one would find out?”
Gage hadn’t yet been formally introduced to the ranch owner, but the resemblance to his twin brother made Cole’s identity obvious.
“Watch your tone, Cole. I’m still a senator … and your father, and I deserve your respect.”
Cole scoffed. “Respect has to be earned. And don’t think I didn’t notice that you mentioned being a senator before being my father. But then, that’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it? So busy being Mr. Important that you put it before your family.”
Gage drew a slow breath into tight lungs. Tension between the father and son made the air thick, suffocating.
“Maybe that used to be true, but—”
“I’m glad Mom left you.” The son’s tone was bitter. “It’s about time. Frankly, I can’t see why she stayed as long as she did.”
Gage shifted his feet awkwardly, uncomfortable being a witness to the family argument. Judging by Bart’s expression, he was of the same mind.
“It’s a thing called loyalty, Cole,” the senator returned. “But I wouldn’t expect you to understand that.”
“I give my loyalty where it’s merited. When’s the last time you gave me a reason to trust you?”
Henry Kelley’s jaw tightened, but he made no reply.
Cole pulled an expression of exasperation and disgust. “I don’t need this tonight.” With a shake of his head, he turned to leave.
“Cole, wait!” The senator took a step, as if to pursue his son, but the rancher paused without facing his father.
“Something has happened that you should know about.” Hank Kelley’s voice rumbled low and unsteady.
Cole’s shoulders drooped, and he rubbed his temple. “What, another of your bimbos crawl out from under a rock claiming to be carrying your child?”
“No, it’s … worse.” The senator sounded truly grieved, seriously upset.
Gage arched an eyebrow and perked his ears. When Dylan Kelley had hired him to guard the senator, he’d been vague about the situation, saying only that he feared his father was in danger and needed to lie low for a while. Gage had assumed his guard duty was directly related to Hank Kelley’s numerous affairs, the women he’d betrayed, the constituents and backers he’d angered with his poor choices. But the gravity of his voice said there was much more at play.
Across the room, Cole huffed loudly, rolled his shoulders, and sent his father a dark glare. “To be honest, Senator,” he said, grating out the title like a foul word, “I’m about sick to death of hearing about the trouble your selfishness has caused our family. I have to leave the ranch before sunup tomorrow for the roundup. So, as much fun as this reunion has been, I’m done for tonight. You can dump your latest screwup on me when I get back next week.”
With that, Cole stormed out.
The senator stared after his son with a forlorn expression, then cut an embarrassed glance to Gage. “I’m sorry about that. Obviously I’m not on the best of terms with my son. Haven’t been for some time.”
Gage cleared his throat and adjusted his stance. “With all due respect, sir, your personal business with your son only concerns me if he’s a threat to your well-being. We’ve been hired to protect you, so if you think your son—”
“Good God, no! Cole might hate me—with good reason—but he’s not out to hurt me! He’s not part of—” The senator stopped abruptly, as if catching himself before he said too much.
Bart stepped forward, flanking the older man’s other side. “Not part of what, sir?”
Hank shook his head and busied himself with collecting the newspaper spread on the chair beside him. “Never mind.”
“Sir, if we are going to protect you, we need to know what we may be up against.” Gage narrowed a hard look on the senator. “You need to tell us who and what threats have been made against you, what trouble you’ve had.”
Hank dropped into the chair and closed his eyes. When he said nothing for several seconds, Bart prodded, “Sir?”
“It’s … a private matter.”
Bart shot Gage a look and rolled his eyes. While Gage shared the sentiment, he kept his mouth firmly set and his posture rigid. Professional. Detached. His job was to protect Senator Henry Kelley, not to like him. The senator, in fact, with his numerous affairs and blatant disregard for his family, confirmed Gage’s belief that most people were rotten at the core. The best one could do in life was to guard your own interests and not grow too attached to anyone. That way, when inevitable disappointments came, the wounds didn’t dig as deep.
Gage moved to the edge of the suede couch and sat across from the older man. “Senator, anything you tell us is strictly confidential. But you need to level with us if we are going to keep you safe.”
Hank tapped a finger on the arm of the Western-style armchair and twisted his mouth. “Fine. Let’s just say, I have … political enemies who … are pressuring me. I believe they could use physical threats to make their point and try to win my cooperation.”
“Are these threats in relation to the women claiming to have had relationships with you?” Gage asked.
Hank’s face reddened a shade, and he cut a side glance to Gage. “Not directly.”
Gage suppressed the surge of impatience that spiked his pulse when the senator continued to equivocate. The man’s flushed skin told Gage he was lying but also called to mind Kate Rogers’s tendency to blush. What had been sexy and intriguing on the pretty waitress was an irritating sign of noncooperation with the senator.
Leaning toward the senator, Gage flipped up his palm in inquiry. “Can you be more specific?”
Hank sighed. “Look, Gage, I know you’re just trying to do your job, but … I didn’t hire you. Dylan did. I’m not happy with the idea of being here. It smacks of hiding from the press and the women who’ve come forward. I hate looking like a coward. I have important matters to tend to—both personal and business—but for reasons I don’t care to elaborate on, I’m here. Do your babysitting thing, if you must—”
Gage ground his back teeth at the man’s derogatory characterization of his job.
“—since that’s what you’re being paid to do, but I’d prefer to keep my private concerns private. No offense intended.”
Hank raised a highball