Page 28 of Tate
His arm came around her and he pulled her close, just enough to feel her sigh. Then he let her go and nodded. He took his muffin and his juice and went back upstairs.
It wouldn’t take him long to pack—he owned precious little after his escape from Vegas two years ago and hadn’t accumulated much working odd security jobs around the country. He’d left a few belongings—a couple books, his favorite work boots, a sleeping bag, and his dog tags—in his truck, which he was storing in San Antonio. He’d hopped the Yankee Belles’ bus there without a glance over his shoulder.
Now, as he finished off the muffin, he shoved a couple pairs of jeans, a white button-down that still fit him, and a few clean pullovers into his duffel bag. Added his toiletries, his chargers, and on impulse grabbed his black Stetson. Then he headed back downstairs, empty glass in hand and duffel over his good shoulder.
Kelsey sat at the counter, peeling the wrapper off her own muffin.
He set the duffel on the floor and slid onto the stool beside her.
“Does she know you’re going to Nashville?”
He glanced at Kelsey, then to his mother, who sat outside, her easel set up.
“Glo.”
Oh. He shook his head. “She fired me. Although I don’t know why.”
“Really? Not a clue, there, Rambo?”
He frowned. Kelsey wasn’t pulling any punches today. “I guess it has something to do with David, the guy she wrote her song about?”
“I told you he was a soldier, right? What I failed to mention was that she was wickedly in love with him. But her mother forbade her to marry him. Said he wasn’t ‘right for the family.’” She finger quoted the last part. “There’s a lot of complicated history between Glo and her mother. Her mother never really got over losing her other daughter, Joy. With Glo the only one left, this could be another power play on her mother’s part.”
“Power play?”
Kelsey brushed off her fingers. “Glo’s mother has an agenda for her daughter. One that includes marrying the right man, taking over the family business?—”
“Politics?”
“No. The Jackson family has a massive nonprofit organization whose stated goal is to strengthen people to meet the challenges and opportunities for global freedom. Glo is the vice-chair, although she never shows up to board meetings. I think her father is the chair. Reba isn’t allowed to be associated with it since she’s a political figure. But she’d like nothing more than for Glo to settle down with some rich lawyer and take over the foundation.”
“How big is this foundation?”
“Glo said that last year they raised over two billion from US corporations, political donors, foreign entities. It’s a huge operation.”
“No wonder Reba has her own security team.”
“You thought it was just because she was running? Hardly. Reba Jackson is worth a cool billion, at least. And as her onlyheiress, Glo is…well, we probably should have hired you long ago.”
He nodded. “It’s strange that Reba didn’t take her death threats seriously until the bombing.”
“Any more information about the Bryant League?”
“I called Ruby Jane but only got her voicemail.”
Kelsey drew in a breath. “I’m all for you hunting these guys down and keeping my girl safe, Tate. But tread carefully. Glo’s heart’s been broken before, and I don’t want to see it broken again. You may be who Glo wants, but make sure you’re who she needs too. And that means not making trouble for her with her mother.”
Those words hung on as he hugged her goodbye, then his mother, and finally trekked out to the barn.
Knox was inside, unsaddling his quarter horse. He threw the saddle on a mount, then unclipped his chaps and draped them over a stall. “You look like you’re fixin’ to leave.” He took the mare’s reins and led her out to the corral. Tate opened the gate, and Knox took off her bridle, then released her.
He hung the bridle on a hook. “I suppose you want a ride to the airport in Helena.”
“Truck or plane, I’m open, but yeah, I need to get back to Glo.”
Knox shook his head, but a smile ghosted up his face. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“It’s tattooed on my chest.”
