Her Last Chance Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

  “I’m good.”

  Lucy arched a brow as if to contradict that statement. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Why did you cancel the DNA testing?”

  “Is there a rush?”

  “Hannah Vincent claims to be your half sister.”

  “That and two dollars will get you a pecan muffin at the Timber Diner. I don’t understand the problem.”

  “What if she’s not?”

  She shrugged. “Then Hannah is an employee of Big Heart Ranch, like everyone else.”

  “Lucy, it seems to me you aren’t taking this seriously. As I recall, you were pretty broken up the day she arrived.”

  “I was shocked. As was Hannah.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “I’ve had time to think and pray about the situation. Knee-jerking is never a good idea.”

  “I don’t know. Going with my gut has served me well.”

  “What exactly is your gut telling you?”

  He released a breath. “That maybe she’s scamming the ranch.”

  “Tripp, I am the director of a children’s ranch. Sixty children call Big Heart Ranch their forever home. Do you honestly think I wouldn’t have Hannah checked out even more than the usual candidates?”

  “So we’re on the same page?”

  “Not exactly. My page says cautious and yours says cynical and distrustful.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Not really. I’ve been where Hannah is. When I met Jack, you’ll recall he was the in-house counsel for his aunt’s foundation. The foundation that supports Big Heart Ranch. He thought we were snake oil salesmen.”

  Tripp nodded, recalling that day nearly two years ago.

  “In addition to the regular background check, I’ve asked Jack to dig a little deeper.”

  “Slats Milburn says he found something.”

  Lucy’s eyes rounded, and she shook her head. “Tell me you did not ask that slimy detective to snoop around in our business.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. What I can tell you is that I hired him and then fired him.”

  “You hired him, why? Because you thought I wasn’t able to handle the situation?”

  “When was the last time someone showed up at the ranch claiming to be your kin?”

  This time Lucy groaned and rubbed the middle of her forehead with two fingers.

  “I wasn’t thinking,” Tripp said. “We can agree on that. That’s why I fired him before I even got a report.”

  “Then how do you know he has information?”

  “He told me so, but I hung up on him.”

  “Maybe you better at least find out what the man has to say.”

  Tripp pushed his hat to the back of his head and grimaced. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “Please?”

  “I’ll do it.” He met Lucy’s gaze. “You don’t believe she’s Jake’s daughter, do you?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I believe. What matters is that we are slow to judge and quick to love.”

  “Lucy, that doesn’t answer my question.”

  The oldest Maxwell released a breath. “I’ve combed through those letters of Hannah’s, and it’s all about perspective. The way I see things, my father did have a relationship with Hannah’s mother, but I believe they were very close friends. I don’t read anything more than that into any of those missives. Hannah sees what she wants to see in those letters. Maybe what she needs to see.”

  “Are you going to tell her that?”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary. Eventually, she’s going to figure that out for herself. When she does, it’s our job to support her.”

  “You’ve obviously got something planned here.”

  “Actually, I don’t. Hannah is a good person, and she’s looking for what everyone at Big Heart Ranch is looking for. A second chance. Family. Unconditional love.”

  When Lucy met his gaze, he didn’t like what he saw. “You got a second chance, Tripp. So did I. Does Hannah Vincent deserve anything less?”

  “That’s all fine and dandy, and it’s plenty clear that you’re a much nicer person than I am. But you have to tell her, eventually. Get the DNA testing done and all.”

  “I will. But can it hurt to put this off a little bit longer?”

  “I don’t know, Lucy. It might hurt more for her to go on thinking she’s a Maxwell.”

  “I’d like Hannah to realize that she’s safe here. Safe from whatever it is she’s been running from.” She looked him in the eye. “I think it’s clear something has kept her off the grid and working far below her potential for the last few years.”

  Tripp was silent at the words. Lucy was right. Hannah had been on the run, with Clementine never leaving her sight.

  “Look, Tripp, I’m giving Hannah the benefit of the doubt. But I’m also doing what’s right for the ranch. I believe the good Lord sent her to Big Heart Ranch for a reason.”

  “A reason?”

  “Maybe it’s just that Hannah, Clementine and Hannah’s unborn child need a family. This ranch is all about finding forever homes.”

  “I don’t know,” he grumbled.

  “What have you got against Hannah Vincent?”

  “Lucy, you believe in the good in everyone. I admire you for that. But I can’t be that trusting.”

  “Why not, Tripp?”

  Tripp rubbed the scar on his face. “I’m not going there. You’re going to have to take my word on this.” He looked away, shoving back memories of another single mother who was cavalier about her child and her pregnancy. “Trust has to be earned.”

  Chapter Six

  Hannah opened the tailgate of the pickup truck and reached for one of the boxes of supplies stacked on the sidewalk outside the feed and tack store.

  “Hold it right there, little momma,” Dutch Stevens called out. He strode outside and stepped between her and the boxes. “You trying to get me in trouble with the boss?”

  “This is becoming beyond ridiculous,” Hannah muttered. “The West would not have been settled if homesteading women sat around doing nothing. Why, they had babies one day and were out baling hay the next.”

  “Yep.”

  “Ranch women are the unsung heroes of the West, in my opinion,” Hannah continued. She was on a roll now and couldn’t stop if she tried. All her frustration from the last few weeks bubbled over.

  “You’re preaching to the choir. Maybe you should take that up with Tripp.”

  Hannah groaned. “Take it up with Marshal Dillon? No, he doesn’t listen to Miss Kitty. You should talk to him.”

  “Are you calling me Festus?”

  “Dutch,” she pleaded. “I need help.”

  The cowboy shook his head adamantly. “Hey, this ain’t my circus. You may like living life dangerously, going toe-to-toe with the man, but not me. These are my golden years and I plan to cruise on autopilot straight to retirement. I am not looking for problems.”

  “Your golden years?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He chuckled as he lifted a box into the truck bed. “Pretty funny when you think about it.”

  “What’s funny?”

  “A little thing like you getting in Tripp’s face on Friday. The man is at least six foot five.”

  “I’m glad I can entertain you.” Hannah glanced down the street in time to see a tall, rail-thin cowboy get out of a rusty truck. The man narrowed his eyes and stared at her before he turned and started down the sidewalk toward the diner. “Dutch, who is that cowboy?”

  “Slats Milburn.”

  “Who is Slats Milburn?”

  Dutch heaved another box up and slid it into the bed of the pickup with a grunt. “Washed-up rodeo clown.”

  “What does a washed-up rodeo clown do for a livin
g?’

  “A little wrangling here and there. Odd jobs. Security. You know, watching herds and lots of such stuff.”

  “Such stuff?”

  The wrangler leaned closer and did a quick look around. “Slats is the guy you call if you need to check something out,” he said in hushed tones.

  “Check something out?”

  “You know, investigate your sister’s new boyfriend, or locate your missing cattle. He’s kind of sketchy, but he gets the job done. Slats is the guy who found AJ’s horse when it was stolen. Though you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Seriously?” Hannah shivered as the man disappeared from sight.

  “Somebody’s gotta do it.” Dutch dusted off his hands and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. He shot a quick glance at the sky before slamming the tailgate of the pickup shut. “Monday morning and it’s already ninety degrees and nary a cloud in sight. Not a breeze to be found, neither. The only thing moving around here are the flies.”

  “Is it always this hot in mid-June?” Hannah asked.

  “Depends on how fickle Mother Nature is feeling.” He tossed his keys in the air. “Ready to go?”

  Hannah nodded as Dutch stepped around the truck and plucked a flyer from the windshield before he got in the cab.

  “What’s this?” she asked, turning over the colorful paper on the seat between them.

  “Timber Fourth of July rodeo is coming right up.”

  “Is anyone from Big Heart Ranch participating?” she asked Dutch.

  “Oh, probably some of our young college-aged wranglers, but not the Maxwells. Travis had the good sense to retire after he nearly killed himself last year. And everyone else either has a bun in the oven or they’re too busy with their own families and the ranch.”

  Dutch raised a palm to thank and acknowledge the truck behind him that waited as he backed out of the parking spot.

  “What about Tripp?” Hannah asked.

  “Oh, he never competes anymore. Used to, though, and he was good.”

  “Why not?”

  “Tripp isn’t about competition. Not an adrenaline junkie like most cowboys.”

  “He’s doing the 100-Day Challenge,” Hannah countered. “That’s pretty competitive.”

  The cowboy turned left at the intersection of Main and Cedar Avenue and headed out of town. “That’s just training them so they’ll get adopted. Our Tripp is a bit of an animal activist. Lucy and Emma advocate for the children of Big Heart. Travis for the cows. AJ for the bison. And Rue looks out for those crazy chickens. Our Tripp advocates for every horse and donkey in a fifty-mile radius.”

  “How long has he been training horses?”

  “No idea. Tripp Walker is a man of mystery. Showed up eight years ago when the ranch was getting started. Maybe you should ask him.”

  “Me?”

  “He talks to you more than I’ve ever seen him talk to anyone outside of the Maxwells. While you’re at it, could you ask him to share his prize-winning chili recipe? Been trying to get that for years.”

  “Tripp has a prize-winning chili recipe?”

  “Yep, he’s won every year since they started the competition at the ranch rodeo.”

  “Wait, there’s a rodeo in Timber and at the ranch?”

  “Missy, you’re going to have to try to keep up.” Dutch frowned, his bushy gray eyebrows nearly coming together.

  “The Timber rodeo is part of the town’s Fourth of July celebration. Mostly for the tourists. Our rodeo is for kids.”

  “Oh.” She offered a nod.

  Dutch looked at her and frowned. “No, you don’t get it. This is huge. We have a full-on barbecue and chili cook-off with the rodeo. It’s the end of summer for the kids visiting from the Pawhuska Orphanage, and all the children who graduated and left the ranch return. It’s huge, I tell you. Huge. One of two times they open the ranch to the public. The other being Christmas.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.” Hannah paused. “But you said Tripp isn’t into competition.”

  “That’s right. But he is into cooking. Whoo-ee can that man cook. He cooks and wins. No competition about it.”

  “Tripp cooks.” She said the words with stunned disbelief.

  “As I recall, AJ said the same thing. She found out what I’m talking about at Thanksgiving.” Dutch laughed. “No one’s ever mentioned this before?”

  “That’s a factoid I would not have forgotten.”

  “He’s like some kind of gourmet. Why, the entire staff holds their breath at the holidays, waiting to find out what Tripp is going to bring. The man makes your taste buds roll over and beg for more.”

  Hannah blinked. “Tripp Walker?”

  Dutch chuckled. “Sure enough. He has a big old cookbook held together by rubber bands and he has his own set of knives. Keeps them with his Bible. Man could easily have his own show on that cooking channel.”

  Hannah cocked her head and looked at him. “Are you pulling my leg?”

  “Ask anyone. He’s got these spinach lasagna roll-ups that melt in your mouth.” A grin split Dutch’s face. “It gets better. Tripp is a vegetarian.”

  “A vegetarian equine manager on a cattle and bison ranch who is a gourmet cook and wins the chili cook-off. Do I have that right?”

  “Sure do.” He smacked his lips. “Mmm, mmm. That’s how good his chili is. Vegetarian chili and the man always wins.” Dutch shot her a quick glance. “Wait a minute. You said you cook. Have you got a winning chili recipe in your back pocket?”

  Hannah hesitated. “You know, I just might.”

  “Think about entering. There’s a small cash prize, and they throw in some fancy pots and pans, oh, and dinner at the Oklahoma Rose.”

  “How small a cash prize?”

  “I do believe it was one hundred dollars last year. But there’s a fifty-dollar entry fee. The entry goes toward the orphanage in Pawhuska. They send the kids back at the end of summer with something for the facility. Last year it was a big-screen television.”

  Hannah pondered the idea for two seconds. “How do I sign up?”

  “Iris over at the admin office will collect your money.” Dutch laughed and slapped the steering wheel with his palm. “This is gonna be fun.”

  Hannah smiled serenely. She’d walked many roads in life and worn many hats, but the fact was she could cook. That was the reason the Dripping Falls Diner had called twice since she left, wanting to know when she was coming back.

  If circumstances were different, she could work in any fine dining restaurant, but she chose to slide under the radar for Clementine. To protect her daughter.

  “What kind of chili do you make?” Dutch asked.

  “I can’t tell you that.” She turned back to the old cowboy. “Don’t you tell him that I’m considering entering the contest.”

  “My lips are sealed. But if you’re looking for someone to taste-test, I’m your man.”

  They rode in silence for moments. Finally, Dutch chuckled and shot her a glance. His eyes sparkled with mirth. “You sure you’re up to this?”

  “Excuse me? What’s the big deal?”

  “Tripp has an entire posse cheering him on.”

  “A posse?”

  “Yep. People come out of the woodwork to watch him prepare his chili. They all pray for a sample before the judging.”

  Hannah stared at Dutch. “Tripp Walker?”

  “Why do you keep asking me that?”

  “I’ve been working with the man for nearly five weeks now and as far as I can tell, he’s reclusive. I can’t believe he’d be willing to be in the public eye.”

  “Tripp has a soft spot for orphans. He’ll put up with a whole lot of attention if it will benefit orphans or horses. Maybe you should ask him about the stuff he does for the kids. Stuff he thinks no one knows about.”

  Hannah
shook her head. “No. Haven’t you heard anything I said? Tripp and I don’t do well with conversation. I’m certainly not going to ask about his secrets.”

  “You two communicate. You just go at it like you’re old married folk.” He released a loud snort.

  “That’s not true at all,” Hannah insisted.

  “Sure it is. I think you like arguing with him.”

  Dutch approached the Big Heart Ranch security gate, rolled down his window and held out his electronic badge. When the arm slowly raised, he drove in and then turned left into the equine center parking area.

  “I’m not about to let the man run over me,” Hannah huffed. “And just because no one has ever dared to challenge him before doesn’t mean I won’t.”

  Laughter spilled from the wrangler as he turned off the engine and got out of the truck.

  “What’s so funny?” Hannah asked.

  “Not a thing. Not a single thing.” He grinned. “You know what, Hannah? You’re all right. I hope you stick around.”

  “The Dutch seal of approval?” Hannah smiled at the cowboy, finding herself inordinately pleased with the words. Could it be she was really fitting in at Big Heart Ranch?

  “You betcha.” He nodded toward the truck bed. “Leave those boxes for now. I’ve got one of our college kids working with me for the summer. He’s going to take care of them.”

  “What are you going to do next?”

  “Got an appointment with Rowdy. I’ve been giving our resident troublemaker saddle time each day, getting him ready to be put in the schedule. Think I’ll give him a little ride before the kids start showing up for lessons.”

  “I’m in the office if you need anything.”

  The sounds of a busy stable drifted into the open equine office as Hannah answered emails and checked inventory. Every now and then Dutch could be heard as he took long minutes grooming the gelding.

  “Easy, boy,” he murmured. “Don’t you be pulling faces at me. I’m the boss here.”

  “Everything, okay, Dutch?” Hannah called.

  “Aw, he’s fine,” Dutch called out. “We’re friends, ain’t we, Rowdy?”