Nick, p.1
NICK, page 1
NICK: Firebrand Cowboys
Barb Han
TorJake Publishing
Copyright © 2023 by Barb Han
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing: Ali Williams
Cover Design: Jacob’s Cover Designs
To Brandon, Jacob, and Tori for being the great loves of my life. To Babe for being my hero, my best friend, and my place to call home.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Also by Barb Han
About the Author
1
Nick Firebrand was about to do something he never believed he’d do in a million years: visit his mother in jail. Jackie Firebrand had been arrested for attempted murder. As far as Nick could tell, she was guilty as sin and not denying her crime.
What the hell was he supposed to do with that?
Thankfully, his twin brother Morgan was beside him and the two of them planned to walk inside together. This was the first time for both of them to darken the door of the county lockup to see a relative. And he could only hope it would be the last time too.
His side of the family had always been the dark sheep of the successful cattle ranching Firebrands. Despite the rumors, he’d been able to hold his head up high when he walked around town because he knew they’d done nothing wrong. Now, the behind-the-back whispers shrouded him in shame. His mother had proven the roots were damaged on this side of the family tree. If anyone had doubted the fact before, her guilt proved it.
“Are you ready for this?” Morgan asked, taking a deep breath before reaching for the lobby’s door handle. The mostly glass and stainless-steel door appeared after hoofing it up thirteen stairs, a baker’s dozen, to reach a predominantly non-descript brown-brick, five-story building.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Nick confirmed, which wasn’t saying much considering his sour mood and the circumstances surrounding the visit. An unrelated piece of information kept assaulting the back of his mind and ranked right up there with having his mother in jail. Vanessa Mosely was back in town. An old saying came to mind. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
“You first,” Nick said to his brother, who was holding the door open.
Morgan gave a quick nod before walking inside. There were no chairs inside the tiled lobby. Video cameras watched over the empty space from every corner where wall met ceiling. A pair of doors opened directly across the lobby, and an officer joined them.
“My name is Sergeant Hopper,” the slim, older gentleman with brown hair that was graying at the temples said. “How can I be of service?”
“Nick Firebrand,” he said, as he shook the outstretched hand before turning to his brother, who then introduced himself. “We’re here to visit Jackie Firebrand.” A good son would probably mention the fact she was his mother. Nick couldn’t bring himself to. Did that make him a bad person? Maybe. A familial bond wasn’t something he’d ever felt with the woman who’d given birth to him. Plus, no one would nominate Nick for sainthood. Did he take after his mother, after all? Did her DNA choke out anything remotely good in him?
No matter how ‘out there’ the question seemed, it was one of Nick’s biggest fears.
The sergeant’s expression tightened. “Did an officer reach out to your family?”
“Not that I know of,” Nick said, not liking the sergeant’s change in attitude. “Why? Did something happen?” He couldn’t fathom his mother would be released on bail, considering last he’d heard, the judge refused to set it in order to keep Jackie in county lockup before her trial. He’d argued the family had enough money from the oil rights they’d inherited to not only make bail but help her disappear. No one could argue.
Sergeant Hopper put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “I’m sorry you wasted your time coming here.”
“Has she been transported somewhere else?” Nick asked. Last he remembered there’d been talk of moving her to another location. The lawyer she’d hired mentioned it being impossible for her to get a fair trial anywhere near their hometown of Lone Star Pass.
“Yes, sir,” the sergeant confirmed. “To the hospital. It seems she received multiple injuries after an altercation with another one of the inmates.”
“What the hell happened?” Nick asked as Morgan raked his fingers through his hair and issued a sharp sigh.
When the sergeant hesitated, Morgan cut in, “How bad is it?”
“I apologize for not having all the details of her current condition,” the sergeant informed. “It’s my understanding there was a disagreement over the meal at lunch. Jailers rushed in as soon as they were alerted to the situation. A group of women locked arms around the fighting inmates, which isn’t unusual in these situations, which delayed the guards from separating the females.”
Nick noticed the sergeant didn’t give so much as a hint as to her well-being. “When can we see her?”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, sir,” Sergeant Hopper said. “But you can call this number to receive updates.”
The sergeant then provided a number, which both Nick and Morgan entered into their phones.
“I wish I could be more help,” Sergeant Hopper conceded with a sigh. “I apologize for you wasting your time and energy coming out to county for me to turn you away.”
“Thank you,” Morgan said, ever the peacemaker. “We appreciate all that you’ve done for our mother. Will there be a report about what happened?”
“Working on it now,” Sergeant Hopper informed. “Again, my apologies for the lack of notification. We’re backed up on paperwork but we’ll get the statements into the system as soon as possible.”
Nick wasn’t so optimistic about the sergeant, whose words didn’t match his stern expression. There wasn’t a hint of sympathy on a face that seemed made from stone. The fact he did this for a living and had probably seen just about everything could be responsible for the hardened demeanor. Then again, he might not care.
Nick also realized he’d fisted his hands at his sides. He clenched and released his fingers a few times to work off some of the tension. It didn’t work.
“Can you tell us what you know so far?” Nick pressed. “You must have been involved in taking statements.”
“No, sir,” Sergeant Hopper said, standing his ground. “I’m afraid I can’t share any information other than what I’ve already said.”
From the point of view of someone on the outside, he could admit, his mother looked like a privileged woman who couldn’t wait to get her hands on the bulk of the family fortune. Nick couldn’t argue the logic. It made perfect sense. His mother had been a gold digger. No question there. She’d been a trophy wife and would be cast as such in the courts. Courts that would see her with as much disgust as Nick did. She probably deserved every awful thing coming her way. Except one thing, an unfair trial.
Under the circumstances, he didn’t believe she would get a fair one.
“What about the warden?” Nick continued. “I’d like to see the person in charge.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible at the moment,” Sergeant Hopper said. His jaw muscle ticked, which gave Nick the impression the man’s patience was running out. “However, I can request an appointment.”
Nick knew when he hit a brick wall. The sergeant had no plans to elaborate. It was time to call in the lawyer.
“Call if there’s anything else I can help you with,” Sergeant Hopper said in a not-so-subtle tone to let them know they were dismissed. More of that judgment clouded the man’s eyes as they took Nick and Morgan in, assessing.
He should be used to snap judgments by now; people had been making comments for months about apples never falling far from the tree. So why did it light him up with anger this time?
“We will,” Morgan said before ushering Nick to the door.
Outside, Nick couldn’t get to his truck fast enough. More of that anger surfaced. Nick needed an outlet before he lost his temper or did something he might not be able to take back.
“Hold on,” Morgan said, a few steps behind.
Nick whirled around on his brother, doing his level best to contain his anger.
“What?” Nick asked in as calm a voice as he could muster.
“I don’t want you driving off like this,” Morgan said. It was reasonable, except Nick wasn’t in the mood for logic when his mother had just been beaten down in jail and was in the hospital.
“Aren’t they supposed to protect her in there?” Nick managed to get out through clenched teeth as he paced the length of his truck and back.
“Yes,” Morgan said, pulling out his cell phone. “I’m texting our father right now to see if he knows what happened.”
Nick hadn’t thought about the fact their family group chat hadn’t been lighting up. Given this new information, it should be even though every one of his brothers had their own complicated ideas about their mother. No one wanted to s ee her hurt. Did she need to serve time for the crime she committed? Absolutely. Pay back her debt to society? One hundred percent, yes. Neither of which included being beat up and hospitalized from her injuries.
At that point, he remembered the phone number the sergeant had given them a few minutes ago. Morgan stared at his screen, his toe tapping on the concrete. After a few seconds passed, he shook his head. “No response.”
“Let’s hope he’s on his way to the hospital,” Nick said, fishing out his cell. He made a quick call to the number provided and landed in voicemail. Rather than leave a heated message, he ended the call. Nick had learned a long time ago actions made in anger normally came back to bite him in the backside. Hard. In fact, he couldn’t think of a time when they’d ever helped a situation. A moment of satisfaction wasn’t worth the extra effort it took to repair the damage.
“I doubt they’d let our father see her,” Morgan stated. He glanced at his truck. “Why don’t you catch a ride with me? We can grab Avril and then swing by to pick up your truck. She can drive it home while we talk.”
His brother’s ploy might have worked if Nick was in the mood for company. “I’ll take a walk to cool off before I head home.”
Morgan didn’t look convinced, so Nick threw his hands up in the surrender position.
“I promise not to get behind the wheel while I’m this ticked off,” Nick said, trying to allay his brother’s fears. Too often someone got behind the wheel after a dust-up and ended up in the hospital or morgue. “I’ll go for a walk and cool down.”
“Promise?” Morgan asked, knowing full well Nick would stand on his word if he gave it.
Nick held up his right hand, three fingers up and together. “Scout’s honor.”
The two locked gazes. Morgan gave a slight nod. They’d been able to tell if the other one was lying with shocking accuracy. The twin bond was real, but it hadn’t always felt one hundred percent accurate in their case. This time, however, it was dead on.
“Alright,” Morgan said before bringing Nick into a bear hug.
“Keep me posted if you hear from him,” Nick said, referring to their father.
“Goes without saying,” Morgan confirmed. He stood there for a few extra moments. Nick recognized the tactic as buying time. “I better pick up Avril.”
“I’m good,” Nick said. “Go get her.”
Morgan nodded before climbing into his driver’s seat and then driving away.
Nick should probably put a message out on the group chat about what they’d just learned. He bit back a curse. As much as everyone deserved to know what was happening, he couldn’t imagine his father finding out that way. He fired off a text to Morgan, asking his brother to give the green light when the news could be sent on the family chat. A personal call seemed better under the circumstances, but he had to admit sending a text was the fastest way to get information out to everyone at one time. They had nine males in the family, so individual communication wasn’t always the most efficient.
Morgan’s taillights disappeared and, for half a second, Nick considered climbing inside his truck and peeling out of the parking lot. Dammit that he was a man of his word.
Instead, he cut across the street where there was a park. How convenient. The kids of incarcerated criminals could play out here while the other parent went inside for visitation. Was that how it worked? He was too old for a playground but this seemed like a good place to burn off some steam before getting behind the wheel.
“Thought I might run into you at some point,” a familiar voice said from behind a tree. She stepped into view. The sunlight from behind cast a halo around her head. But this was no angel.
“What are you doing here, Vanessa?” he bit out. Of course, he would run into her today of all days.
She blinked at him, confused. “It’s usual for a litigator to visit her client.”
“Her what?” Nick asked. There was no way he’d heard correctly. Because this meant his ex was going to represent his mother.
Vanessa Mosely almost couldn’t believe how good Nick looked standing there with the sun shining on his face. She’d forgotten how good-looking the man was.
“Lawyer,” she repeated.
“Why you?” he asked with the kind of bitterness in his tone that said he wasn’t happy to see her again. She figured as much. It was too much to ask forgiveness from a stubborn Firebrand, least of all Nick.
“Your mother called in a marker with my father’s firm,” she said when he didn’t continue.
“I remember your situation now,” he said, his tone accusing. “Your parents divorced when you were little, and your mother moved to Lone Star Pass to bring you up away from the city.”
“Houston doesn’t exactly have a lot of skyscrapers, but it does have good lawyers,” she quipped defensively. Her father was one of the best defense attorneys in the city. He’d also been her mentor right up until the time he died from a heart attack two months ago. If news of his death had gotten back to Lone Star Pass, Nick seemed to have turned a deaf ear. But then, he probably didn’t want to know anything about her or her family after the two of them broke up.
She dropped the cigarette she’d been holding onto the ground and crushed it with the tip of her Manolo Blahnik.
“You don’t plan on leaving that there, do you?” he asked with a disgusted look on his face. Nick would never be able to play poker or win in court, considering he wore his emotions on his sleeve. “Because here in the sticks, we call that littering. Not to mention the fact we’ve been in a drought recently and the sparks from that cigarette could cause the whole county to go up in flames.”
She crouched down and picked up the butt. Lighting a cigarette, but not taking a puff, was a habit she’d picked up in law school when overwhelmed with stress. There was something soothing about the faint smell of smoke. It reminded her of the way her father’s crisp suits had smelled after a hard day in court. He only smoked during high-profile trials.
Vanessa took a step forward. Getting closer to Nick sent her pulse racing on a track of its own.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.
“I’m certain that I did.”
“Why you?” he repeated, like she didn’t hear him correctly the first time. Then clarified, “Why isn’t your father here? Is my mother’s case not worth his time? Or is it just my family that’s not worth his time?”
“First of all, my father isn’t here because he died a couple of months ago,” she said, hearing the catch in her own throat at the word died.
Nick opened his mouth to speak, most likely to offer her an apology, but he snapped it shut when she put her hand up.
“Don’t,” she warned. “You didn’t know him and you definitely didn’t like him, so you’re not sorry.”
“I don’t have to know him personally to—”
Again, she stopped him cold with that same hand. “We don’t have to do this.” She made eyes at him. “Play nice.” She pinched the cigarette butt in between her thumb and forefinger before flicking it into the nearby trash receptacle. “I’m here to defend your mother. You are part of this case, like it or not, so I’ll need to be in contact.”
“Sounds like a party,” he quipped in the sarcastic tone he’d mastered since the last time they were together. His eyes still held sympathy, though, so she forced her gaze away from his before he got to her. “But what are you doing out here?”
“I was giving you and your brother time with your mother before I headed inside,” she said, lifting her gaze once again to study him. The shift in his tone had her concerned. “I thought you could use some time since I knew you hadn’t…”
The way he stared at her caused alarm bells to sound.
“Why? What aren’t you telling me, Nick?”
He folded his arms across a broad, muscled chest. “Have you spoken to the desk sergeant today?”
“No, which is why I was about to go inside and do just that,” she said, wishing he would get to the point.
