those kind of feelings.”
Crockett breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t allow his brother to hear.
“But Annette’s my daughter.”
Crockett shook his head. “I thought I had all the jealousy in the family.”
“I’ve got my fair share.”
They sat down on the sofa, glancing around to make sure Helga wasn’t around before putting their boots on the coffee table.
“I’m just getting good at the relationship with my daughter,” Last said quietly. “Frankly, it took me a while.”
“I know. We thought your Mohawk phase might last longer than it did.” Crockett picked up the remote and began channel surfing. Some things were easier to discuss lightly.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Last said. “I just wanted you to know how I feel.”
Crockett nodded and closed his eyes, wishing Last would cool his jets. Family angst wasn’t what he wanted to think about. He wanted to think about Valentine—and her fanny—and about the creative ideas suddenly filling his mind. Something about that tiny woman with the very round, very upstanding tushie made his juices flow, made him want to…sculpt. Her.
She brought inspiration to life inside him in ways he had never imagined. What medium would best illustrate her curves?
Clay! Calhoun didn’t work with clay!
“I need some more time to work things out with Valentine.”
Last’s words penetrated the dense fog of Crockett’s inspired musing. “I wasn’t aware the two of you were trying to work anything out.”
“Not like that,” Last admitted. “It’s the family angle I’m working on. The father thing.”
A curious rush of jealousy, more powerful than anything Crockett had experienced before, surprised him. “Father thing?”
“Yeah, I’ve been polishing my game. Performing my obligations. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Let me get this straight. From the day Frisco Joe met Annabelle and her baby, Emmie, you talked about Jefferson children. You sent all our brothers off with marching orders to procreate. Surprise, surprise, you become a dad, too, only you get mad as hell and do everything you can to ignore Annette for months, leaving your responsibilities to Mason and me and our other brothers. Now you decide to bust my chops because I’m paying attention to Valentine and Annette?” He shook his head. “Dude, it’s not going to work. You can’t treat people that way. You’ve ignored Valentine since she came to the ranch. I’m not trying to get in your way when it comes to being a dad, but you’re not going to get in my way of…whatever.”
“And what is whatever? Just so I’ll understand.”
Crockett slapped his brother on the back of the head. “She’s a nice lady. I like to look at her.”
Last moved away from his older brother’s reach. “And if I don’t like whatever? If I need more time to get my own deal worked out with my family? Then what?”
“Have at it.” He looked his brother in the eyes. “Don’t get competitive, Last. You don’t like hanging around her, I do. Deal with it.”
Last got up from the couch, agony on his face. “I am trying to be as good a father as Maverick was.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
Last sighed. “I feel like I need something that’s mine, where none of my brothers overshadow me.”
Crockett could relate to that feeling. “We’re just friends. And I’m only interested in spending time with her because it seems I’ve recently turned into a butt-man.”
“Butt-head, you mean.”
“No, butt-man. Valentine has a great tush. It inspires my creativity. That’s all I’m thinking about. Nothing deeper than that.”
Last nodded, then left Crockett with the TV while he headed down to Valentine’s. He hesitated before knocking on the door. Crockett was pretty much correct: Last had avoided Valentine for a long time.
The realization that he was a father had changed his life and frightened him. He’d doubted his ability to be a proper role model. He hadn’t wanted to be tied down to a woman. At the time, it had felt as if he’d gotten roped in. Later, he realized that the few pounds of squealing flesh that bore his name wasn’t all that frightening. He’d slowly begun to worm his way into Valentine’s good graces, and he’d moved just as slowly over the first bumps of fatherhood.
He’d been feeling pretty good about matters—until Crockett had started eyeing his family.
The door opened and Valentine looked out at him. “Hi, Last,” she said, her tone somewhat surprised.
Of course she was surprised. “Is Annette asleep?”
“Nearly. Did you want to see her?”
He shifted. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”
Her big eyes widened. “All right.”
“There’s never going to be anything between you and me, is there?”
Valentine was so shocked by Last coming to her house and asking her this question that it took her a second to shake her head. “I think we’re better off as friends. You don’t want more than that, do you?”
“I want to be first in my daughter’s life.”
“And you’re worried that you won’t be?” This was a side of Last she’d never seen before.
“Maybe.”
“Last, Annette knows who you are,” Valentine said softly. “That should be reassurance enough.”
“Yeah.” He backed away from the door. “Okay.”
Valentine took a deep breath. “For what it’s worth, Last, I never set out to trap you with fatherhood. If you avoid me because you think I’m after you, it’s not true. I don’t remember much about our night together, but I know it got out of hand pretty quick and that neither of us were ourselves. Nor were either of us under any delusions.”
He looked grim. “Sometimes I wonder if it really happened.”
“I know.”
His mouth settled into a tense line. “I think, Valentine, I owe you an apology. I had some wildness in me, and I never thought about the consequences of my actions. For either of us, but especially for you.”
Valentine smiled slightly. “Thank you. But it doesn’t matter anymore. We have a daughter we both love.”
“We sure do.” For the first time, he smiled. “I’m still kind of amazed that I’m a dad.”
“Scary?”
“Scary, but awesome.” He stepped down off the porch. “By the way, do you have a thing for my brother Crockett?”
Her smile slipped, and she gave him a warning glare. “Haven’t you asked the one question you came here to ask?”
He laughed and put up his hands in mock surrender. “All right.”
She opened the door. “I have to get to work early in the morning.”
He nodded. “Good night.”
“Good night.” Closing the door, Valentine wondered which of Last’s questions he’d really come to ask. She’d never know—but one thing she did know, she had a thing for Crockett.
OKAY, SO IT WAS WRONG to be hiding in the bushes. Crockett knew that. But he wasn’t so much hiding as skulking, he figured, in the old-time manner any villain from a black-and-white movie