Texas Hold 'Em (Smokin' ACES) - By Kay David Page 0,13

what they did, nothing mattered but the job.

After she’d left prison, Gloria had drifted in and out of Rose’s life, and they’d both been okay with the arrangement. When Santos began repeatedly to warn her that having Gloria around could hurt her career, she didn’t believe him, and even if he was right, she’d told him, her mother was her mother and they needed to stay in touch, even if it was infrequently.

Then one day Santos told Rose flat out to sever the already tenuous ties she and Gloria shared. He said her mother had gone back to her old ways, and he didn’t want Rose to get hurt. Telling her she was too close to see the situation clearly, he’d insisted she cut Gloria out of her life. Rose had refused.

A month later, Gloria was gone.

At the time, Santos said all he wanted was for Rose to be safe, and that wasn’t possible if she was still seeing Gloria. His insistence and Rose’s refusal had torn them apart. After a final blow up, he’d moved on. She couldn’t deny that, at the time, she’d been relieved. But it had still hurt.

Going home to west Texas, Rose had left San Antonio, coming to Rio County to find her mother. Once there, she’d run for sheriff. She’d been a shoo-in because her grandfather had just retired from the same position. But after two years, she still had no idea where Gloria might be.

And now Santos wanted her to help him find the very woman he’d told her to avoid. She’d give him credit where credit was due.

He had balls.

She threw a salad together, then took a bath and went to bed, but sleep refused to come, no matter how hard she tried to find it. A summer storm’s dry lightning flashed in the distance outside her window while unrelenting images of her past with Santos flashed equally bright behind her eyes: the reflection in the mirror of their naked bodies tangled in the sheets, margaritas on the patio of their favorite Mexican restaurant, the weekend they had spent on Padre watching the waves come in.

She gave up at five a.m. and stumbled out of her bed to the kitchen, leaning against the counter with her eyes closed as the coffee pot gurgled. Carrying a full mug to the tiny porch off the back of her house, she sat down, sipped, and waited, the scent of coffee mingling with the clean, crisp morning air. Silas Renwick showed up right before the sun, just as she’d expected he would. Her grandfather had built-in radar that pinged whenever she was troubled.

He gave her a kiss and walked into the kitchen, reappearing with his own mug a few minutes later. He took a taste before speaking, the rocking chair creaking as he sat down beside her and pushed off.

“Just saw Dan off to the ranch,” he said conversationally. “He’s got a bigwig from Houston looking to bag something he can brag about.”

Daniel Covington was a hunting guide, and he had been her high school sweetheart. Whenever he came to town, her grandfather’s place was always his first stop. After a tractor had rolled over Dan’s father on the family ranch, Silas had taken it upon himself to mentor the fatherless boy, and they’d been close ever since. Rose suspected she and Dan had dated more as an offshoot of his relationship with Silas than anything else.

He’d followed her to San Antonio and become a cop a year after she did. He was too late. She had already met Santos by then. A risky sting operation and a bullet to the knee had ended Dan’s career.

She tensed, expecting her grandfather to say she needed to reschedule the dinner she’d skipped with Dan when Santos showed up. She’d only agreed to go in the first place to placate her grandfather and possibly put the topic to bed once and for all, but she had no intention of calling Dan now. She’d almost rather face the kid with the gun again.

“How’s he doing?” she forced herself to ask. “Every time I see him, he seems angrier than the time before. If you think I’m rescheduling that dinner I had to cancel, don’t hold your breath.”

“I’d be unhappy if I was him, too,” Silas said mildly. “God knows he’s got plenty of reasons. You broke up with him, you’re a cop, and he can’t be—”

“That’s enough,” she said, holding up her hands in defeat. “I suspect you didn’t come