Texas Rebels: Paxton. Linda Warren

because of my health. That’s so unfair.”

      “Yes. But you said your interview and the visit to your apartment went well, so don’t lose hope.”

      Remi scooted to face her grandmother. “Dad and Mom moved my bed over and we were able to get Annie’s baby bed that Holly and I had bought into the room, and the changing table. A small chest for her clothes fit in there, too. It looks really nice and I was happy the room was big enough. I wish I had had time to get a bigger apartment or maybe a house.”

      Gran patted Remi’s leg. “Love is all that counts.”

      Remi prayed that was true. “In the fall I go back to teaching and I have to find a really good day care for Annie.”

      “Now don’t go putting the cart before the horse. Let’s get over this hurdle first.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” Remi lay back on the couch and raised her left leg. “Time for stretches. Push my leg as far back as you can.”

      Gran got to her feet. “Oh, Lordy, I hate doing this. I’m afraid I might hurt you and that’s...”

      Gran’s voice faded away as Remi’s thoughts turned to Paxton. How odd it was that they’d met on a deserted beach. She’d been running away from her fears. She wondered if he had been, too.

      * * *

      PAXTON DROVE STRAIGHT to the equipment shed to park the trailer. His mother’s truck was still at the office so he jumped back into his truck and headed there.

      He took one of the leather chairs in front of her desk. She glanced up from the ledger she was writing in. There were several computers in the office, but his mother liked to do things the old way. She wrote things down in the ledger to keep track of cattle and horses and sales and payments.

      “How did it go?”

      He removed his hat and laid it on the desk. “I didn’t know Miss Bertie had a granddaughter—a granddaughter who is Ezra McCray’s daughter.”

      His mother’s eyes opened wide. “Remington is here? Bertie must be pleased.”

      “Remington is her name?” For some reason he found that a little strange. The name didn’t fit the feminine woman he’d met.

      “Yes, but I think she’s called Remi. Ezra named his children Ruger and Remington, after guns. He was one crazy man.”

      He didn’t want to push his privileges as her son, but he had to know. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “I don’t understand this relationship you have with Miss Bertie. Her daughter was Ezra McCray’s wife. And Miss Bertie’s much older than you.”

      She slowly closed the ledger and then glanced at him, her brown eyes dark and serious. “You see, son, Bertie and I have something in common. We both hate the McCrays.”

      “Yeah. She made that clear.”

      “To be honest I never thought I’d be friends with Bertie. I met her at one of the Elvis get-togethers some ladies have in town. We found we had a lot to talk about. Bertie and Edgar were devastated when Ava married Ezra. They eloped and they both were of age so there was nothing Bertie or Edgar could do but watch their daughter be brutalized by that horrible man. Time after time Bertie reported Ezra to the sheriff, but Ava would never testify against him.”

      Paxton listened, and even though it was something he didn’t know, what caught his attention were the Elvis get-togethers. “You go to Elvis parties?”

      His mother lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, with the sheriff’s mother, Mrs. Peabody and several other ladies. We have a good time. We play poker, listen to music, eat, drink a few beers and talk about the latest gossip in Horseshoe.”

      “You drink beer?” All his life he’d never seen his mother drink any type of liquor, especially after what had happened to their father. She was against drinking, but she never told any of her sons to stop. They were grown men and she mostly tried to stay out of their lives.

      “Is that against the law?”

      “No. I’m just surprised.”

      “You know, son, I’m entitled to get out every once in a while. I enjoy spending time with women with similar interests. We’re talking about visiting Graceland in the summer and I’m thinking of going. We need a driver, though. Are you available?” There was a smile in her voice, and he knew she was teasing him.

      He shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to say no, but he would rather have his teeth pulled than drive several old ladies to Graceland. Being a dutiful son, he replied, “If you need me to.”

      His mother laughed, and he realized he hadn’t heard her laugh in a long time. She spent all of her time worrying about the ranch and her sons. If she wanted to drink beer and visit Graceland, who was he to judge?

      “Don’t worry, son. I’m the youngest in the group and I can drive us.”

      “Are you sure?” He’d try to work it into his schedule if his mother needed him.

      “I’ve hauled cattle all over this country and I think I can get us to Graceland.”

      “Okay.” He stood and pulled five dollars out of his pocket and laid it on the desk. “From Miss Bertie for gas.”

      “I forgot to tell you about that. I’m so glad you didn’t refuse it.”

      “Mom, the woman was standing there with a shotgun in her hand. I wasn’t going to refuse too much.”

      “I’m proud of you, son. You’re turning into a nice young man. I’m glad you put all that Lisa business behind you.”

      Lisa? He still hadn’t called her, and that was the old Pax, avoiding a confrontation. To be the man he wanted to be, he had to call her and break it off—for good.

      He turned to leave the room, but something in him needed to know. “What happened to Miss Bertie’s granddaughter? She looks ill.”

      “I believe she was in a motorcycle accident.”

      “Motorcycle? I don’t see her as a motorcycle chick.”

      His mother lifted an eyebrow again, which all of her sons knew well. It meant she was either disappointed in what they’d done or what they’d said.

      He tried hard not to fidget. “You know what I mean. Piercings, tattoos and leather. This girl is very slight and I can’t see her riding a motorcycle.”

      “It was the boyfriend’s, I believe.” His mother studied his face and he wanted to squirm again. “Why are you so interested in Remington?”

      “I’m not.” That was the truth. He was just...curious.

      “We just went through this with Phoenix and Rosemary’s relationship. Even though I have accepted Rosie, I wouldn’t like to see another of my sons getting involved with a McCray.”

      “Whoa.” He held up a hand. “There’s nothing like that going on. She’s not my type. When she found out I was a Rebel, it was like opening a freezer. Rest assured there’s nothing going on. I was just asking.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “Mom.”

      She got up and walked around her desk to stand in front of him. She lightly touched his face. “I don’t think you realize just how handsome you are. This girl is very vulnerable right now and I wouldn’t like to see you hurt her in any way. Not that you would intentionally because I know you, and you have a big heart when it counts.”

      He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with his mother. Avoiding a deep emotional conversation was his top priority when talking to his mother. He didn’t know what else to say, except the truth.

      “Okay. I promise I won’t hurt her. I don’t see how that can happen since I’ve only had one conversation with her. And believe me, I’ll