Kael
Texas Rascals, Volume 6
Lori Wilde
Published by Lori Wilde, 2019.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
KAEL
First edition. April 30, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 Lori Wilde.
Written by Lori Wilde.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
8®.
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
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About the Author
Chapter One
Kael Carmody was back and everybody in Rascal knew
the minute he breezed into town. His name set off sparks
from Mildred’s Diner to the all-night Laundromat on First
Street to Dorothy’s Curl-Up-and-Dye. Nothing in Rascal
had changed in the seven years he’d been away. Kael Car-
mody still set matrons’ tongues to wagging and young girls’
hearts to swooning.
Everyone, that is, except Daisy Hightower. Daisy was
twenty-six, independent, hard working and stubborn as
Boss Martin’s old mule. She could also carry a grudge
longer than anyone in South Texas. Kael Carmody had
found that out the hard way.
But Kael Carmody had other things on his mind besides
Daisy Hightower when he strolled into Mickey’s Bar off
Highway 183, looking for liquid refreshment and a dozen
raw oysters.
“I don’t believe my eyes!” Mickey Standish exclaimed
as Kael strolled inside, the old wooden door slamming
closed behind him. “Kael Carmody, as I live and breathe.”
“Hey, Mickey.” The grin that had charmed a thousand
women lit Kael’s face. Taking care to minimize his limp,
he hitched himself up to the red vinyl bar stool, doffed his
straw Stetson and clasped Mickey’s hearty handshake.
“How’s the leg?” Mickey asked, casting a glance down-
ward.
“Healin’.”
Kael wasn’t ready to talk about the accident or his shaky
prognosis. Less said, the better. But avoiding the topic in
Rascal posed a real challenge. Thankfully, the tavern was
empty at one-thirty in the afternoon except for the two guys
shooting pool in the comer, and Kael didn’t know either of
them.
“You gonna be able to ride again?” Concern knotted
Mickey’s mouth.
“Sure.” Kael pulled a confident face that was complete
bluster. “Just home recouping for a couple of months.”
“Must be tough.” Mickey nodded.
“Yeah.” Kael desperately wanted to change the subject.
“How ’bout a long-neck and a dozen oysters on the half
shell? I’m starved for your food. There’s nothing like it.”
Mickey beamed at the compliment and pulled a beer
from the ice. Twisting the top, he slid it across the bar to
Kael. “Be right back with your oysters.”
Kael swiveled on the bar stool, sipping his beer. He
swung his gaze around the bar. Not much had changed in
seven years. There was still a tear in the screen door. The
same posters graced the rough-hewn walls. An oscillating
fan rotated at the back of the bar. The windows were open.
Gulf breezes lifted the curtains, bringing the scent of sea,
sand and long-buried memories.
Memories he’d rather forget. Memories that had kept him
away from Rascal for so long. Memories of Daisy High-
tower.
If he closed his eyes, he could still see her firm, tanned
figure in that purple bikini, still smell the coconut aroma
of her sunscreen, still taste those frosty Italian ices they’d
shared on the beach while sifting their toes in the sand.
Damn! Why was he thinking about that hardheaded crea-
ture? He’d gotten over her years ago. Just because he’d
come back home to recover from his accident didn’t mean
he was entertaining any ideas about getting together with
her for old time’s sake. Knowing Daisy, if he dared show
up on her front porch, she’d promptly tell him to eat worms
and die. What man needed that kind of grief?
“Here we go,” Mickey said, proudly plopping oysters
on an iced platter in front of Kael. “Bet you haven’t had
oysters like these since you left Rascal.”
“You’d bet right,” Kael said, letting the Gulf Coast del-
icacy slide down his throat.
“Hmm,” Mickey said. “Just you wait. I’m having a
blow-out barbecue party at my place for the Rodeo Days
celebration in June and you’re invited. Hell, I’m gonna
make you the guest of honor. You know you’re the only
famous person ever to come out of this town.”
“I’m not that famous.”
“B.S.!” Mickey snorted. “How many people have won
the PRC bull riding championship two years in a row?”
And, Kael wondered, how many of those people got so
badly wounded doing it, they lost their career?
“Only folks who follow rodeo have ever heard of me,”
Kael said. “Besides, fame and a buck will buy you a cup
of coffee.”
“Like you have to worry about money.” Mickey shook
his head. “You’re the only child of the wealthiest family
in town. You’re destined to inherit a two-thousand-acre cat-
tle ranch. What’s the problem?”
The problem was Kael didn’t know what would happen
to him if his leg didn’t heal. A half dozen doctors had been
consulted and they’d all come away with the same conclu-
sion. Slim chance he’d ever ride again without agreeing to
a radical new surgical procedure. But the surgery was no
panacea. Even though his manager, Randy Howard, was
pushing for the operation, Kael hesitated. If something went
wrong with the procedure, he might never be able to use
the leg again.
Kael winced. What was he going to do? Bull riding was
his life, his identity since he was twelve years old. Sure,
he could follow in his father’s footsteps and become a
rancher, but Kael had such a restless nature, possessed such
a strong case of wanderlust he couldn’t envision himself
settling down in any one place for long. Especially a dried-
up, go-nowhere town like Rascal.
That very nomadic characteristic was what had destroyed
his budding relationship with Daisy Hightower.
One of the men playing pool dropped a quarter in the
jukebox. Dolly Parton’s voice filled the room. Grateful for
the distraction, Kael finished his oysters and pushed the
platter across the bar.
“So how are things in Rascal?�
�� Kael asked. “You
know my folks spend most of their time in Corpus Christi
now, and they just aren’t looped in to the local gossip.”
“Well,” Mickey said, steepling his fingers. “The
drought’s been rough on everyone.”
“I saw.”
On the drive in he’d noticed parched pastures, scrawny
cows and the low water level in the area lakes and ponds.
The lack of color in the normally lush landscape told the
ugly story. No rain, no crops. No crops, no economy. His
concern for the decreased rainfall extended to his parents
ranch, even though the Carmodys were so well invested
that a few lean years would do them little harm.
“A couple of farmers have gone bankrupt.”
Kael clicked his tongue. “Shame.”
“Cattle prices are the lowest they’ve been in sixteen
years.”
“That’s what my dad’s been telling me.” Kael knew
about the drought and the farmers’ problems. What he hun-
gered for were details on the townspeople, and one special
person in particular.
“Guess who I saw yesterday?” Mickey asked as if read-
ing his stray thoughts.
Kael shook his head, took another swallow of beer. The
outside of the bottle was sweaty, the coolness already dis-
sipating in the humidity.
“Daisy Hightower.”
“Yeah?”
“She’s just as fine as she was in high school. Maybe
more so.” Mickey swiped a damp towel across the counter.
“Good for her. She always was a beautiful woman.”
“Waste if you ask me.”
“What’s a waste?” Kael quirked an eyebrow. Despite
his best intentions, he couldn’t deny the curiosity zipping
through him. He’d love to see Daisy again.
“The girl never dates. Stays home, works those beehives
and looks after her sister’s Itid. She’s turned into a regular
hermit.”
“Rose has a child?” Kael frowned.
“Had.”
“You mean Rose is dead?”
Mickey nodded solemnly.
“So what happened?”
Mickey made a face. “She abandoned the boy right after
he was bom. Left him for Daisy to raise. Couple of years
back we found out Rose overdosed on sleeping pills and
whiskey in some New Orleans flophouse. Apparently it was
a real sordid affair.”
“No kidding?” An icy blast chased down Kael’s spine.
The news left him shaky, the oysters resting uneasily in his
stomach.
“You remember how wild Rose was, partying con-
stantly, a different boyfriend for every night of the week.
Hell, I’ll admit it. I kept company with her a time or two
myself. Who didn’t?”
I wish to hell I hadn’t, Kael thought to himself, the old
self-loathing returning with a vengeance.
“Daisy’s had a hard time of it.”
“I image she has, raising a kid on her own.” Kael
mused.
“Uh-huh. She legally adopted Travis.”
“Well, nobody could ever accuse Daisy Hightower of
shirking her responsibilities.” Kael peeled the label off his
beer bottle and avoided Mickey’s eye.
“You ain’t got no interest in rekindling old flames?”
Mickey settled his elbows on the bar and leaned forward
to cup his chin in his palms.
“With that fiery redhead? You gotta be kiddin’. I’d just
as soon stick my hand in one of her beehives. It’d be a lot
less painful.” Kael snorted, but inside himself dormant
feelings stirred. Feelings he didn’t care to examine too
closely.
“Want another beer?”
“Nah.” Kael shook his head. “I better be getting back
home. Mom’s cooking up a big dinner and inviting all the
relatives over.” The truth was, he’d heard enough about
Daisy Hightower for one afternoon.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Mickey said, “anytime you
wanna talk rodeo you got an audience.”
“Thanks.”
He didn’t need to be reminded of that, either. Why tor-
ture himself? Until he made a decision one way or the other
about the surgery, he didn’t want to discuss bull riding.
Kael could just see himself whiling away the days, hanging
out in Mickey’s Bar and gabbing about what used to be or
what might have been.
Daisy Hightower and bull riding. The two things he’d
loved most. The very two things that had caused him the
greatest heartache in life.
Snagging his Stetson off the bar, Kael smoothed the
brim, then settled it on his head. He took money from his
pocket, but Mickey held up his palms in protest.
“This one’s on me, good buddy.”
“Come on, Mickey, take the cash.” Kael pushed the
twenty at him.
“You tryin’ to insult me?”
“All right, have it your way.”
Kael folded the twenty and stuck it back in his pocket.
He wasn’t about to let Mickey get away with this. They’d
been friends since high school, and although Mickey earned
a fair living running the bar, he had a wife and three kids
to support. The guy just might wake up one morning to
find a new freezer sitting on his front porch waiting to take
the place of the one wheezing in the back room.
“You oughta go see her,” Mickey said, as Kael reached
the door.
Kael turned to look at his friend. “Who?”
“Daisy Hightower. You never know. She might have
changed her mind about you.”
“Are we talking about the same Daisy Hightower?”
Proud, obstinate, sexy Daisy Hightower.
“Motherhood might have mellowed her.”
“Like it mellows grizzly bears.” Kael lifted his shoul-
ders. “No, thanks.”
“Your caU.”
“Yeah,” Kael said, and stepped out into the oppressive
heat. Honey bees floated near the horsemint outside the
door. Not a single tree stirred. Absentmindedly, he rubbed
his aching leg and crossed the asphalt to his pickup.
Those danged bees brought back lots of memories. Mem-
ories of clear spring mornings and sweet amber honey.
Memories of colorful flowers and buzzing hives. Memories
of stealing a honey-sweetened kiss from the most regal of
queen bees—Daisy Anne Hightower.
“Forget her,” Kael muttered, slamming his pickup truck
into reverse and backing out of Mickey’s parking lot. “You
got enough problems to contend with. What’s over is over,
and Daisy Hightower will never be yours again.”
Shifting into overdrive, he bit down on his lip and reeled
from the hardest slap of loneliness he’d felt in seven years.
“Did you see Kael Carmody?”
“Oh my gosh, hasn’t he got a body to die for?”
“And those eyes of his, so blue they’re almost silver.”
“I was too busy scoping out his backside to pay much
attention to his eyes.”
Overhearing the checkout girls’ conversation, Daisy
Hightower’s hand froze around the jar of pimentos she was
&nb
sp; about to drop into her shopping cart. Her pulse gathered
speed and her legs went wobbly. She took a deep breath to
steady herself.
Please, Lord, she prayed. Say it isn’t so. Tell me Kael
Carmody isn’t back in Rascal.
“Do you think he’d go out with me?” one girl asked.
She was a plump but pretty blonde, who wore her hair
pulled back off her face. The girl wasn’t much more than
nineteen. The same age Daisy had been when Kael Car-
mody had broken her heart and shattered her world.
“Don’t be silly, Deedee. You’re way too young for him.
Besides, Kael Carmody could have his pick of any woman
in Rascal,” the other girl, a willowy brunette replied.
Not me! Daisy thought, straining to eavesdrop. Not if he
were the last man on earth. She’d learned the hard way
there should be much more to a man than good looks and
a penchant for having fun. And if her own lessons hadn’t
been enough, all she needed to do was remember Rose and
her mistakes.
“Still.” The one named Deedee sighed. “He’s too fine
for words. Sorta puts me in mind of Brad Pitt.”
“Everybody puts you in mind of Brad Pitt,” her friend
teased.
“You can hardly tell he limps.”
“They say his bull riding career is over.”
“Guess that’s why he’s back home.”
“I hope he pops in here often. It’ll certainly make com-
ing to work a lot more exciting.”
Kael’s career at an end? Daisy’s mouth twitched as
mixed emotion rocketed through her. She would love to be
able to say she was totally and completely over Kael Car-
mody, but she couldn’t he to herself. She did harbor feel-
ings for the man, despite what had happened between them,
and she cursed herself daily for that weakness.
She knew how upset he’d be if he could never rodeo
again. Daisy had heard about Kael’s accident, of course.
Even someone as much of a recluse as she could not have
missed hearing about that. Kael Carmody’s tragic spill at
the PRC in Las Vegas on New Year’s Day had been big
news, overshadowed only by the Dallas Cowboys’ winning
another Superbowl Championship. But Daisy had no idea
Kael’s injury had been so serious, and that news grieved
her.
Worry knots formed in her stomach. How many times