Her Last Chance Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

  “Give me a minute.” She finished counting the change and dumped it all back in. “Two thousand and fifty-one dollars and ten cents.”

  Tripp’s jaw sagged. “What? You’re kidding me, right?”

  “No. I’m serious.”

  “How many pieces of cake were there?”

  “Fifty-six.”

  His eyes rounded. “You charged thirty-six dollars for each piece of cake?”

  Hannah blinked. “That was some impressive math. But no, I took donations, just like you. AJ was right—people do open up their pocketbooks for the pregnant lady.”

  She handed the jar to Tripp.

  “Why are you giving it to me?”

  “It’s for the Pawhuska Orphanage. I trust you’ll get this to the appropriate parties.”

  “Hannah, that was unbelievably cool of you to do that.”

  “I happen to be an unbelievably cool person. It’s taken you three months to figure that out?” She nodded toward his donation jar. “How much did you rake in with your chili samples?”

  “Couple hundred bucks.” He frowned. “Maybe I should bake cakes,” he said.

  “Your chili also won a hundred bucks and that will go to the orphanage.”

  “Two thousand dollars?” he repeated.

  She nodded. “You won the pots and pans and the gift certificate to the Oklahoma Rose. Not a bad haul.”

  “I’m particular about the tools of my trade. I always give the ones I win back. They’ve been trying to give away those skillets for three years now.”

  Hannah laughed at the notion.

  “Is Clementine still with Rue and Dutch?” he asked.

  “No. She’s sleeping.” Hannah pointed to the blanket pallet on the floor of the tent. “They claim they wore her out. Although I suspect she wore them out.”

  She began to collect her own pots and utensils.

  “The cook-off was a lot more fun than usual,” Tripp said, giving her a meaningful glance. “We should compete more often.”

  Hannah smiled. “Should we?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know many people who take their horses and their cooking as seriously as I do.”

  “Did you just compliment me?”

  He granted her a rare full-on smile. “You know, I might have.”

  She was silent, pondering his words as she cleaned up the booth. “Will you keep an eye on Clementine while I run this stuff up to the bunkhouse?”

  “Happy to. Are you coming back for the fireworks later? There’s rumor of a s’mores booth.”

  “That sounds wonderful. But I’ve been on my feet all day. I’m exhausted. And my daughter is a lightweight like me.”

  “Sure,” he said with a nod. “I’m not much of a s’mores fella anyhow. If I can’t have Hannah Vincent’s cake, I’d rather go hungry.”

  “I guess there’s some baking in my future. It’s good to keep the boss happy.”

  “Now don’t feel like you have to do it on my account.”

  She laughed as she collected trash from the tent and walked it over to a receptacle. “Will someone be breaking down the tent and collecting the camp stoves?”

  “Yeah. There’s a crew that will do all that.”

  “Then I’m done here. I’ll be right back.” She grabbed the rolling cart she’d borrowed from the chow hall and put everything on the shelves.

  The day had begun to slow down. The rodeo was over and families were moving toward home. They’d come back in a few hours for fireworks at the pond or watch them while sitting on blankets on their lawns.

  The bunkhouse was quiet. Rue would be back in her apartment in Timber tonight, now that the summer was over. Hannah put the leftover chili and sour cream and cheese in the fridge and dumped the dirty dishes and pans on the counter.

  Heading back to the tent, she opened the back door. Across the grass strode Tripp with Clementine in his arms. The little girl was still asleep.

  The picture they made of the tall cowboy, his face partially covered by his hat and her little girl nestled in his arms, plucked at her heartstrings.

  She held open the screen door for him. “You didn’t have to.”

  “Sure, I did. It’s okay to let your friends help you.”

  Yes, but there was a price to pay for getting accustomed to Tripp Walker helping her all the time. She’d get used to it, maybe even expect it, and that wasn’t a good idea when she had plans to head back to Dripping Falls next month.

  “You can put her on this bunk.”

  “That little girl needs pink boots,” Tripp murmured as he laid her down on the bed.

  “Little girls grow out of boots much too quickly for that.”

  Hannah pulled off Clementine’s boots and socks and tucked her beneath the sheet.

  She went back into the kitchen where Tripp waited. “Thank you.”

  He stared at her and she was only too aware of the chili stain on her shirt and the blobs of sour cream on her pants. Her hair was a lopsided sagging ponytail now, and she smelled like pork sausage and tomato sauce.

  “Yes, I know I look like I’ve been slinging chili for eight hours.”

  “Nope. I was thinking you look lovely.”

  Hannah blinked and leaned against the counters, speechless. She nervously tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.

  “Why are you surprised?” he asked.

  “I, um, my physical appearance is just not something I’ve ever thought much about.”

  “And yet, you are a beautiful woman. Inside and out.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “I’m glad you came to Big Heart Ranch. Your strength and Godliness is an inspiration to everyone.”

  “Where did that come from?” Hannah asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve been watching you all day today and it sort of hit me. You give two hundred percent to everything you do and you do it selflessly.” A small smile touched his face. “Five months pregnant and you’ve been on your feet all day serving chili, and you raised a small fortune for the Pawhuska Orphanage.”

  “Oh, that’s only because I was trying to beat you.”

  Tripp smiled before he crossed the room. He gently took her face in his hands and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead like she was cherished and precious. “Thank you, Hannah.”

  And then he was gone and Hannah was left staring at the door, her heart pounding as she realized she’d fallen in love with Tripp Walker.

  * * *

  “Cold, rainy and plain disagreeable,” Dutch muttered as he stomped into the stables and parked himself outside the office door.

  Hannah turned at Dutch’s words.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Don’t ever get old. That’s all I’m gonna say. Though for the record, I’m not just old, I’m two years older than dirt. This weather makes everything ache.”

  “Well, go on home, then,” she said.

  “Naw, it’s Friday. I’ll see the day out.”

  Hannah finished filling out the September supply list and turned off her computer. Dutch was right. It had been a miserable few days of weather with nonstop rain. But the horses loved the moisture and the drop in temperatures that came with the end of summer.

  September was days away, along with the 100-Day Challenge finale. She planned to go to Fort Worth, Texas, to cheer Tripp and Jane on with Clementine, Lucy, Travis and Dutch. Hannah glanced at the calendar, counting down the days. When it was over, she’d have to make some serious decisions about her future.

  But not today. Today, despite the weather, everything was just fine in her world. If she had any more days like today, she would be inclined to stay.

  She stood and stretched before stepping out of the office to find Dutch. The wrangler stood in the center aisle, untacking a horse.

  �
��Dutch, I keep telling you. Go home,” she said. “Everything is done here. It’s almost Friday quitting time anyhow.”

  “Naw, I can’t. I promised Tripp I’d keep an eye on you while he was gone.” Dutch froze with a saddle in his hands. He closed his eyes and scrunched them tight and then opened them. “You didn’t hear that.”

  “He doesn’t trust me.” Hannah’s heart fell flat at Dutch’s words. Things had been going so well while Tripp was in Tulsa. She’d been buoyed with confidence at the thought that he left her in charge.

  “No, Hannah.” Dutch tossed the saddle onto the stall hook. “That’s not it. Maybe when you first got here. But not now.”

  The heat of embarrassment warmed her face. She was humiliated in front of Dutch and becoming more annoyed with each passing moment. What a fool she had been, yet again believing that Tripp trusted her. He’d told her no less than three times that he was going out of town. In return, she’d assured him all would be well in his absence.

  She thought they had an understanding.

  “I should have known it was too good to be true,” Hannah murmured.

  “Now stop that. Did you ever think that maybe our Tripp asked me to keep an eye out because he cares about you? Come on now, you’re pushing six months pregnant.”

  “I’m not mad at you, Dutch. You’re caught in the middle.”

  “Go ahead and be mad at me. I should have told him no.”

  “The subject is closed,” she said. “I’m going to go spend some time with Jane.” She grabbed her rain slicker from the hook outside the office and strode past Dutch.

  “Outside the pen, right?”

  “Now you sound just like Tripp,” she called over her shoulder.

  “That was plain rude, Missy.”

  “Yes, well, it is what it is.”

  “Don’t be shooting the messenger. I’m only doing my job.”

  Hannah shrugged into her slicker and pulled the hood up, tucking her hair inside. She spared a glance at the gray sky overhead. The steady rain had stopped and had turned into an annoying drizzle. Wiping the moisture from her face, she called Jane.

  The horse trotted to the fence and offered a welcoming whinny.

  “Good to see you, too, sweet girl.” She rubbed Jane’s mane and offered her an apple from lunch. “Come on, let’s get some walking in.”

  Together they walked around the pen, stopping at intervals until Hannah was tired out. “Sorry, Jane. I’m a slacker, I know. This whole pregnancy thing has me winded faster.”

  Hannah climbed to the top rung on the fence, leaned in and put her arms around Jane. She rested her head upon Jane’s neck and inhaled, finding the peace that she always did with the mare.

  “What are you doing?”

  Startled, Hannah nearly lost her balance.

  The next thing she knew, she’d been grabbed under the arms and set on the ground.

  Tripp was back.

  Hannah slowly turned to face him. “Jane needed some love,” she murmured. And I did, too, she silently added.

  “Don’t ever let me see you on that fence like that again,” he thundered. Tripp was angry. Steam was practically coming out of his ears. He was mad enough that Jane whinnied and raised her head in alarm.

  In a heartbeat, her joy at seeing him again was replaced by confusion. He stared at her as if he didn’t know her. Didn’t want to know her.

  Tripp Walker apparently ran hot and cold. Was this the same man who had kissed her so tenderly just a few days ago?

  His eyes were a stormy blue. He stood straight and unyielding, rigid with irritation. Rain dripped from the brim of his hat as he pinned her with his gaze.

  “You’re scaring Jane,” Hannah said. She folded her arms across her chest and stepped right into Tripp’s personal space, unwilling to let him know that he scared her, as well.

  “Jane is a wild mustang and what you just did was reckless. You have a child and a baby to think about, Hannah.”

  “I think we established weeks ago that Jane isn’t like other horses. Jane is special. And I think we also established that I am a responsible adult who would never put her child in danger.”

  Dutch was suddenly at her side. “My fault, boss. This whole thing is completely my fault.”

  “Dutch, stop that,” Hannah said. “I take full credit for what I did. You had nothing to do with this.”

  Tripp looked at them both, then as suddenly as he’d stormed in, turned on his heels and headed into the stables without so much as a backward glance.

  “He’s in a mood,” Dutch said.

  “Tripp around?”

  Both Hannah and Dutch turned at the voice. It was the tall, thin cowboy she’d seen in Timber. There was something menacing about the man. Hannah instinctively stepped back.

  “Slats Milburn,” Dutch echoed. “What are you doing here? How’d you get past the front gate?”

  “Someone going out let me in.”

  “Well, that was a mistake,” Dutch said. “Any business you have should be done in the admin building.”

  Slats nodded to Hannah. “You must be Hannah Vincent.”

  She ignored the hand he offered.

  “Slats Milburn. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he continued.

  “That’s unfortunate,” Hannah murmured. She turned away and stood at the fence. Why did she have the feeling that things were about to implode?

  “What are you doing here?” Dutch demanded.

  “I’ve got business with your equine manager.”

  “No way does Tripp have business with you. I would have heard.”

  “Guess you weren’t privy to this information. I’m here to meet with him because he said he was ready to settle up.”

  “Dutch, show him into my office,” Tripp called from the doorway of the stables.”

  “Yes, sir, boss.”

  When Dutch rejoined her at the fence, Hannah asked, “What’s going on, Dutch? Why was he here?”

  “You got me. I don’t have a clue. He closed the office door. Shot me a mind your own business look.” Dutch shook his head. “Something ain’t right, Hannah.”

  Hannah shoved her hands into her pockets as the rain began to fall in earnest. She shivered. Dutch was correct. Something was not right.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You’re an heiress.”

  Hannah swiveled around in her desk chair, stunned by the accusation. It wasn’t so much the words but the delivery. Tripp Walker might as well have accused her of being a horse thief for all the hostility that laced his words.

  He stood in the doorway of the office looking larger than life and just as formidable. She hadn’t seen the man since he’d voiced his displeasure with her on Friday. He’d even avoided her at church.

  This morning he stepped in and closed the door behind him before he sat down. His face was a stony mask, revealing nothing. There was a calm about him that frightened her.

  “Who told you that?” Hannah gripped the arms of the desk chair and braced herself for the storm that was no doubt coming. She’d lived through worse, she reminded herself.

  “Dorothy Lee Bryant was your grandmother.”

  “Yes.” She said the word slowly.

  “Dorothy Lee Bryant of Bryant Oil,” he stated, his voice flat and cold.

  “I know who she is. She raised me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I mentioned it the first day I arrived at Big Heart Ranch when I spoke with all the Maxwells.” She scrambled, her mind searching. “At the obstetrician’s office, too. Remember? I said my grandmother’s last name was Bryant.”

  “Hannah, you never made it clear that you are the sole heir to the Bryant fortune. I would have remembered if my employee told me that her grandmother was one of the richest women in the country.” He crossed his arms over
his chest. “Why did you hide such important information?”

  “I didn’t hide anything. It wasn’t relevant because I had already walked away seven years ago.” She stared at him. Clearly, he’d missed his calling. Tripp would have made an excellent defense attorney.

  “You may have walked away, but that doesn’t alter the fact that you are Hannah Bryant.”

  “No. I’m Hannah Vincent. And why does it matter so much? I stopped being Hannah Bryant a very long time ago.” She met his gaze, searching for something that told her the Tripp she knew was still there, somewhere.

  He looked past her as if she wasn’t in the room. “Everything you’ve said has been twisted tales and lies.”

  “That isn’t true at all.” She stared at him, trying to figure out where this hostility was coming from.

  “Where did you say you went to college?” he asked.

  “What does that matter?”

  “You said you worked in equine clinics when you were a kid and when you were in college.”

  “I didn’t lie, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “You worked with thoroughbreds. In rich folk’s stables.”

  “I worked with horses.”

  “And who taught you to bake those fancy cakes?”

  “You’re blowing this out of proportion, Tripp. I said it was a friend of my grandmother. Eric Frombeau taught me to bake cakes.”

  He blinked, processing the information. “That chef on television who bakes for movie stars?”

  “Chefs on television have friends, too.” She gestured with a hand. “What’s your point, Tripp?”

  “I’m a fool, that’s my point. I marveled at how much we had in common. But we don’t have anything in common. Nothing at all, do we?”

  “Tripp, it was you who judged me the moment you saw me in that disreputable Honda in the middle of a storm on the side of the road. I’ve been honest about everything.”

  “You never said you were an heiress.”

  Hannah felt her own anger beginning to rise. “Stop saying that. I didn’t mention who my grandmother was because she was not part of my life.”

  “Your life? You walked away from your life and you’re pretending to be someone else.”