Dalton, Tymber - Hernando Heat (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (12 page)

“Joe! Get yer worthless hide out here right now, goddamn it!”

* * * *

Joe ran out the back door onto the porch with Katie on his heels. Mason, a nearly empty whiskey bottle in hand, rode up into the back dooryard, scattering chickens in his wake as he unsteadily slouched over his mount’s neck. Tight-lipped, Joe wanted to order Katie into the house but knew she probably wouldn’t go anyway.

“Mase, get down from there before you get hurt.” His cousin was sop-soaking wet, obviously caught in the afternoon deluge. His horse looked mud caked and miserable, but none the worse for wear.

Joe stepped off the porch to make a grab for the horse’s reins, but Mason lurched back in the saddle, forcing the horse to take a couple of steps backward. Mason pointed the bottle at him.

“You. You fuggin’ sumbitch. Din waste no time, didja?” He took one last, long pull from the bottle, draining it before throwing it at Joe. The wild pitch sent the bottle sailing against the water trough, where it shattered. “Jus couldn’t wait, cudja?”

Joe held out his hands in supplication. “Mase, it’s not like that. Let me explain.”

He lurched forward in the saddle again as he jabbed an unsteady finger at Joe. “Waz to explain, you bastard! You took her!”

Joe bit back his temper. His cousin was upset and drunk, neither of those conditions ones he wanted to tackle alone on a good day, much less together at the same time. First things first, he had to get Mason off that horse before he got himself hurt.

“Mase, please. Get down and let me talk to you—”

“Nuttin’ to talk about!” Mason roared, taking a wild swing in the air. “I love her, and you stoled her from me!”

Joe was painfully aware of Katie’s presence on the porch, standing there, holding on to one of the columns, the soft sound of her tears ripping his heart apart. He’d gladly trounce Mason for putting her through this, but first he needed to get control of the situation. He forced his voice to remain calm and steady.

“You and me need to talk about this. She loves you, too. She loves both of us.”

Mason’s mouth gaped. “What?” He made an unsteady grab for his saddle horn as a chicken spooked his horse. Instead, he missed and tumbled off into the mud with a loud, wet splat as his mount skittered sideways away from the offending fowl.

Katie gasped, but Joe held up a staying hand without turning. “Stay there, Katie. Let me handle this.” He stepped forward. Most likely he and Mason both would be sporting shiners and even more bruises in the morning, but he wouldn’t let Katie get between them. This had to happen, and perhaps sooner rather than later was for the best, especially if Mason was so drunk he might not remember most of it the next morning.

And Mason being drunk would likely give Joe a physical advantage he might not normally have.

“Mase, sit with me and talk.”

Mason rolled over, his front side covered head to toe in orange clay mud and chicken poop. “Fug you!” He tried to stand and slipped, landing on his back in the muck.

Joe stifled a laugh. This would be funny if his cousin’s heart and their relationship weren’t at stake. He took another step forward. “Mase, let’s talk. Please. Be reasonable.”

Mason let out a drunken roar and launched himself up from the mud, catching Joe in the midsection and driving him back and down into the mud himself.

* * * *

Katie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as Mason charged Joe and sent them both sprawling into the mud. Punches and curses flew from Mason, with Joe blocking them and trying to get his cousin to listen to him and see reason. Finally, Joe started throwing punches of his own. Despite how drunk he was, Mason still managed to hold his own against his cousin.

As the fight raged on, Katie felt the tears on her face, hating herself that the men she loved had been driven to this point. She thought Joe would get the upper hand, but then he tripped over a rock, and Mason landed on top of him, quickly raining punches down on his face.

That’s when she snapped. She screamed as she ran off the porch, barefoot, through the mud. “Mason! Please, stop!” She threw herself at him, grabbing his arm but losing her footing in the slick clay mud and going sprawling herself.

Mason tried to shake her free at first, but she held on to his wrist as tenaciously as a kudzu vine clinging to a pine tree. “Please, stop! Listen to him!”

“I’m sorry, Katie, but I love you and—”

“I love you, too!” she cried out.

Mason froze, staring at her. “You do?”

She nodded. “I love both of you,” she softly admitted, barely able to force the words through her trembling lips.

Joe took that moment to come up out of the mud and shove Mason off him, throwing Katie off balance and face forward into the muck in the process.

Both men cried out in dismay. She felt their hands on her, trying to help her up. Mason grabbed her under her armpits to haul her to her feet. Instead, he slipped and landed on his butt, pulling her face down on top of him with her legs straddling his hips and her hands on his chest.

She didn’t miss the feel of the hard length of flesh pressing against her through his soaked and muddy pants.

Realizing what she must look like, and seeing both men covered head-to-toe in mud, she felt the first laugh bubble through. Joe plopped down next to them and with a muddy finger brushed the hair out of her eyes. He smiled then started laughing with her.

Mason stared up at them, watching them laugh with confusion on his face. Katie laughed so hard tears rolled down her cheeks again, creating clean trails in the mud coating her face.

Once Katie regained her composure, she reached down and stroked Mason’s cheek, leaving another filthy handprint there. “I do love you, Mason. But I love him, too.” She looked at Joe, who nodded. “He says maybe the three of us can figure this out so we can all be together.” Somehow, she finally drew strength to meet Mason’s gaze again.

He looked up at her. “Both of us?”

She nodded, fighting to hold back another bout of tears. “Yes. If you think you can stand it.”

Joe spoke up. “I’m not strong enough to walk away from her, but I am strong enough to give her what she needs and wants. She wants both of us. I’m willing to give her that, but only because you’re even closer than a brother. I couldn’t do it if it was anyone else but you, Mase.”

Mason stared at Joe then returned his attention to her. She stared into his brown eyes. “I don’t want to hurt either one of you,” she said, her voice cracking. “And if we can’t make this work…Well, I’d just have to leave, because I can’t bear the thought of hurting either of you.” Joe started to speak again, but she laid a finger over his lips, silencing him. “I know you said you’d do the talking, but I think I need to.” He finally nodded.

Mason’s finger traced the path of her tears down her cheeks. “Please don’t leave, Katie,” he softly said. Then his fingers snaked through her sodden hair, gently cupping the back of her head and pulling her down to him. He thoroughly kissed her, for a moment making her forget the three of them were sprawled in the mud, curious chickens scattered by the scuffle already returning to investigate.

Joe touched Mason’s shoulder. “I’ll go draw a bath. We all need to clean up.” He climbed to his feet and headed for the house.

Katie settled herself more comfortably over Mason’s hard bulge. “I’m sorry you found out like that. I wanted us to be able to talk about it.”

“Calvin said there was a fight in town. Between Joe and Junior. Did that bastard hurt you?”

“No. He would have, if Joe hadn’t showed up when he did.” She laid down on top of him, enjoying the feel of his arms slipping around her, the sound of his heartbeat under her ear pounding through his muddy shirt. “He threatened to kill me, and that no one would know what happened to me. That he’d make it look like an accident.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

The smell of whiskey on Mason’s breath nearly made her eyes water, but she didn’t pull away. “It’s all right. You didn’t know.”

“How am I supposed to take care of you?” he softly asked, his voice sounding pained. “I can’t even be there for you when you need me. You’re better off with Joe.”

She rose up to look into his eyes. “Don’t you love me?”

He nodded. “Of course I do, Katie. More than anyone or anything, ever, in my entire life.”

“Can you share me with him?”

He slowly nodded. “Just don’t ask me that when I’m alone in bed and I know you’re with him.”

She grabbed his chin. “Who says we can’t all sleep in the same bed?”

He studied her. “You mean it?”

“If you’re okay with it.” She snuggled up against him again, hoping he’d remember this conversation when he sobered up. “Nothing would make me feel safer than lying between you and him every night, feeling both of y’all’s arms around me. Nothing would make me feel more loved.”

His arms tightened around her as he pulled her in for another kiss. His lips tenderly explored hers, lighting fires inside her that threatened to consume her soul. “I love you, Katie,” he whispered. “If the only way I can have you is to share you, I’ll do it. Gladly.” He touched her nose with his finger. “But only with Joe. No one else. I’ll kill anyone else that even looks at you strangely.”

“Do you mean it?” She hoped he still felt like that tomorrow.

He nodded. “But I’m so drunk right now y’all might have to remind me of that in the morning.” A smile curled his lips, drawing creases in the mud coating his face.

She laughed. “We will. She carefully climbed to her feet, careful not to let her muddy housedress trip her as it clung to her legs.

Mason unsteadily wobbled to his feet. Joe came down from the porch to help Katie steady him. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Mason swayed a little. “You hit me!” he said to Joe in an accusing tone.

For a moment, Katie worried another scuffle would break out until she spotted the playful smile on Mason’s face.

“Well, you come home drunk as a skunk and slinging whiskey bottles at me, yeah. If you’ll recall, you hit me first.” He draped an arm around Mason’s waist and helped him up the porch stairs to a wooden rocker, where they got him seated with a groan.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

Joe clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I got my own licks in.”

Katie dropped to her knees in front of Mason and started working on getting his boots off. “You’re a mess. You’re absolutely filthy.”

Mason howled with laughter. “Look who’s talking! You look like you lost a wrestling match with a pig.”

Joe smiled as he reached down and unfastened Mason’s gun belt, which was caked with clay muck, and removed it from around his waist. “She did, you pig. I’ll get this cleaned up for you after we get this mud off us. Katie will help you with that part. Not to mention I need to get your horse cleaned up.”

He grinned a little lopsidedly. “Yeah, I’d much rather have her hands on me than yours, cuz. No offense.”

Joe laughed, shaking his head. “None taken.”

Chapter Ten

Fortunately, the night was warm and they didn’t need to heat water for the tub. Katie drew the curtain across the little alcove on the back porch where the washtub sat for summer use. Mason stood there, still swaying a little on his feet as she peeled her muddy house coat off and over her head, letting it drop to the wooden porch floor with a wet splat.

With trembling hands, she stepped over to Mason and started unbuttoning his shirt. His brown eyes bored into hers.