Her Cowboy Billionaire Best Friend_A Whittaker Brothers Novel

by Liz Isaacson

  “Well, I have to get to work,” she said. “My horses can’t feed themselves.”

  “It would be nice if they could, wouldn’t it?” He laughed, the sound delicious to all of her senses.

  “How many horses do you have?” she asked, stepping toward the road that led back to the epicenter of the ranch.

  “Just the three,” he said. “You?”

  “Thirteen.” They reached the road in front of the cabin, Clearwater at their heels. She pointed south. “Your place is just up there and around the curve.” She faced northeast. “I’m down this way.”

  He let his gaze linger down the road toward Echo Ridge and then said, “Good to see you again, Laney,” before turning south and walking down the road. She watched him for too long, but his long, jean-clad legs with those broad shoulders clothed in black leater…he had grown into positively the most beautiful man she’d ever known.

  And he’d been gorgeous as a teenager. It almost didn’t seem fair.

  Sighing, she turned away and reminded herself that she already had enough to do, dozens of tasks to keep her busy. She didn’t need to add a man to the list. Oh, no sirree. She did not.

  Exactly thirty hours had passed before Graham’s name brightened her phone screen. She flipped the two hamburgers she was frying for lunch before swiping open the call. She eyed Bailey, sitting at the kitchen counter with a coloring book in front of her as she said, “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Graham sounded like he had a smile on his face. “I’m wondering what you know about dermatitis in horses.”

  Laney laid a slice of cheese on each hamburger patty. “What makes you think your horses have dermatitis?”

  “I looked it up on my phone.”

  “What does it say to do?”

  “I have no idea. There’s no treatment. I also don’t know how it happened. Can you come take a look at the horses?” He spoke in a tone that didn’t really allow her to say no. She wondered if anyone ever told him no, and what he’d do if they did.

  As if Laney didn’t have enough to do. But she said, “Sure,” anyway, and said, “I have to go.” She hung up before she could give away too many of her irrational and confusing feelings. They’d kept her awake much too long last night as it was, and she couldn’t give them more stage time in her mind during the day too.

  “Here you go, Bay,” she said, scooping the hamburgers out of the pan. “Time for lunch. Put those away.”

  The strawberry-blonde child began putting her crayons back in the box. “Is there avocados?”

  “Not today.” Laney smiled at her daughter and added, “But I have tomatoes and lettuce, and the burgers have cheese on them.” She put a bun on Bailey’s plate. “Make it how you like it.”

  Laney pulled out a bag of chips they’d partially eaten last week and set them on the counter too. They’d gone into town for church that morning, but she hadn’t seen Graham. His mother was there, as was Beau, but Graham didn’t sit with them. She hadn’t seen any tire tracks leading from the lodge either, and she wondered if he’d stay holed up at Whiskey Mountain Lodge to work, or if he’d take over his father’s office in the small building Springside Energy operated out of.

  Why Graham Whittaker took up so much of her brainpower was a mystery to her. Frustrating, too. So she banished him as she put mustard, mayo, and ketchup on her bun, added lettuce and tomato and bit into her burger.

  “You’re coming out to the barn with me,” she reminded Bailey as they finished their lunch. “You’ve got to check on the cats, remember? And the outdoor dogs. And make sure all the chickens have enough feed and water.”

  “Okay.” Bailey only ate a few bites of her burger but plenty of chips. Laney probably should’ve argued with her about it, but she didn’t have the energy today.

  She thought of Mike, of where he might be and what he might be doing. No matter what it was, it wasn’t dealing with the bills of a ranch that made marginally more than it needed to run, or his daughter’s dietary needs.

  “School on Monday,” she added, as if Bailey had forgotten from the last time Laney had told her. “Back to real life.”

  “I like Christmas break,” Bailey said, a frown pulling at her eyebrows.

  “Me too.” She ruffled Bailey’s hair and put her plate in the sink. “Get suited up. It’s cold out there.” She stepped over to the back door and pulled on her own boots, then her coat, hat, and scarf. “I’m going to be checking on the cattle today. Stay in the barn when you’re done with your chores, okay?”

  Bailey agreed, and Laney helped her with her coat and scarf, making sure her daughter wouldn’t get frostbite when they went outside.

  She pulled her gloves on last and they stepped into the winter weather. The snow had stopped, and the sky was blue and clear. But the sun shining on the landscape only made things bright, not warm. In fact, it was even colder now that the cloud cover had moved on.

  Their breath steamed in front of them as they made the trek across the back lawn and into the barns and stables.

  “Cats,” Laney reminded Bailey. “Dogs. Chickens.”

  “Cats, dogs, chickens,” Bailey recited back, and she got to work with the two cats she’d named herself. Laney watched her feed KC, short for Kitty Cat, and Meow, the two stray cats Bailey had kept in her bedroom until Laney had smelled them.

  With everything else they’d lost, she couldn’t make Bailey get rid of them, so they’d compromised. They could be barn cats, catching mice and running around the ranch. But they simply couldn’t stay in the house.

  Laney only let two of the dogs in as it was, and she glanced over to the outdoor mutts—Georgia and Savannah—on her way toward the back of the barn. She loved her ranching life, she really did. But some days, especially in the dead of winter, she wondered what it would be like to have a husband who went out in the cold and took care of the chores while she stayed inside and sipped tea and baked cookies.

  Not that she was the tea-drinking cookie-baking type of woman. But she knew some women who were, and she never felt like she fit in with them. That, combined with living so far out of town, meant most of her conversations happened with Bailey or a bovine. Her gaze wandered to the south as soon as she stepped outside, but she couldn’t see even an inkling of the lodge from her property.

  It sat up the hill, but then down in a swell, and the only time she even knew it was there was when she drove by to go to town. Still, now that she knew Graham lived there, she could somehow feel his presence.

  She worked through feeding the horses, even when her hands felt like they might fall off and they were bright red. By the time she checked all the cattle feeding troughs and took care of the ice, the salt licks, and the thrush that had popped up on a few of her cows, the daylight had begun to fade.

  Every bone in Laney’s body wanted to go back to the house and snuggle into a blanket with Bailey, hot chocolate warming her from the inside out as a movie played at low volume in front of them.

  She found Bailey in the barn, cuddled up with the two dogs and the tablet Laney let her use after she did her chores. “Come on, Bay. I’m finally done.”

  The girl looked up at her and slowly got to her feet. “Did you know that orangutans’ arms stretch out longer than their bodies?” She held her arms out as if she were an airplane. “Humans don’t do that.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Laney said, smiling at the ground as they picked their way back to the homestead. Once inside, she slipped a pizza in the oven and changed out of her cold and wet clothes.

  “Hot chocolate?” she asked her daughter, who had also changed and was now feeding the indoor dogs.

  “Yeah, sure.” Bailey wandered over to the couch and sat down while Laney zipped around the kitchen to get the mugs, milk, and powder out. With the first mug rotating in the microwave, she remembered Graham and his request to come help with his horses.

  A groan pulled through her throat. She could easily text him and say she couldn’t come. But part of her wanted to help him
. The part that found it funny that he thought he could just show up in backcountry Wyoming and run a lodge and stables when he hadn’t come back to Coral Canyon for much more than holiday dinners over the past two decades.

  In the end, she finished the hot chocolate and pulled the pizza out of the oven when the timer went off. Bailey had switched on the TV, and Laney swept a kiss across her daughter’s forehead. “I have to go help someone for a few minutes,” she said. “Will you be okay here?”

  Bailey took a sip of her hot chocolate while guilt pulled strongly through Laney. Although Bailey was only six years old, she could be alone for a half an hour.

  “I’ll lock the doors, and you’ve got Clearwater and Barry here,” she said. “And the phone Grandma gave you. Call me if you need me. I’ll just be up the road a bit.”

  Bailey nodded and went back to watching TV. Laney pulled her boots back on though her feet protested at the indication that they’d be returning to work.

  It’s for Graham Whittaker, she thought, hoping her old feet would get the message and just get the job done.

  Almost one year later

  Graham woke before dawn, as usual. He lay in bed for a few minutes, because those moments were likely all he’d get in the way of peace and quiet that day. Most days, actually. Running Springside Energy was a seven-day-a-week job that he tried to cram into six so he could attend church.

  Running Whiskey Mountain Lodge was easily as busy, what with the horses and the land and everything. So he’d hired three women on as staff around the lodge. Annie only came to clean a few times a week, because seventy percent of the house was still unused. Bree had seen to his lawn, gardens, pool, and trees over the summer and into the fall. Now that winter was breathing down their necks again, she’d asked about doing some interior decorating on the house.

  Graham had looked around the foyer, finally noticing that while everything was dust-free thanks to Annie’s efforts, there wasn’t anything personal in the room. No pictures. No flower arrangements. No personal items of his travels, his likes, nothing.

  Every room in the house felt like that, like it had no personality. Like the ghost of a man lived here.

  Graham had nodded, which had brought a bright smile to Bree’s face. So, for the past three weeks, she’d been bringing in holiday décor. For Thanksgiving, the whole place had been ripe with turkeys, welcome signs, a fall leaf wreath, and much more.

  She’d just asked him about art, what he liked, what her budget was, and if each room should have a theme. He’d given her whatever money she needed and asked her to simply make the house look like someone cared about it.

  Graham did care about the lodge; he really did. He lived in a large bedroom down the hall from the kitchen, with a huge office between the two. Those three rooms felt lived-in at least, and they took up almost the entire main floor. He used the washroom, where Bear slept, but it had been a while since he’d been up the spiral staircase to the rooms up there, or down to the basement, where more rooms, a game room, and a theater sat.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, the scent of baking bread meeting his nose. His last addition to Whiskey Mountain Lodge had obviously arrived and had been busy in the kitchen.

  Celia Armstrong was brilliant with flavors, and she could make anything Graham requested. He didn’t make a lot of demands on her, other than “something I can’t get from a place in town.”

  After all, Coral Canyon was a small place, and he’d eaten through every restaurant twice before May had arrived. That was when he hired Celia, then Bree, and finally Annie as the workload at Springside threatened to crush him.

  He took a moment to miss his life in Seattle. He’d lived there for fourteen years and hadn’t eaten at all the restaurants he’d wanted to, let alone every one in the city. After being gone for eleven months, he could think about that life without anger.

  Thank you for that, he prayed, glad that time did seem to heal some wounds. He could even think about Erica and all she’d done without his pulse pounding in his neck, and that had taken much longer to achieve.

  He ran his hands through his hair and got up to shower. After all, he had chores to do out in the stables before he got to work on energy business. Over the months, he’d learned a lot about horses, farming, and ranching.

  Whenever there was something he didn’t know, he called Laney. She’d come to help him, sometimes bringing her daughter and sometimes coming alone. And in a world where Graham had given up his corporate job, his friends, and his entire life, it was nice to have someone come when he called.

  In fact, Laney McAllister was definitely one of his only friends in Wyoming. His brother and mother lived in town, but Graham honestly found it hard to get down to see them more than once a month.

  He enjoyed being busy, because it prevented him from having too much time to think, like he was now. So he put his lonely existence from his mind and got ready for the day.

  When he arrived in the kitchen, he grinned at the spread of hot bread and homemade strawberry jam. “Celia.” He chuckled as she turned from the stove. “You’re a godsend.”

  She smiled at him, the wrinkles around her eyes a welcome sight. Her laughter like a balm to his weary soul. The older woman reminded him so much of his mother, and hiring her was the best move he’d made since coming to Coral Canyon.

  “Its just bread, Graham.”

  “And eggs.” He pointed to the pan behind her. She turned back to her scrambling, and Graham sliced the end off a loaf of bread and smeared it with butter and jam. A moan leaked from his throat at the warmth, the yeasty taste of the bread, the sugary jam.

  “A godsend,” he repeated around the mouthful of food, and Celia shook her head. A few moments later, she slid the eggs from the pan to a plate and presented them to him.

  “I’m making those sweet and sour meatballs you love,” she said. “So they’ll last until I come back. And I’ve put three of those rising crust pizzas you love in the freezer. And Bree’s coming to do the Christmas decorations this weekend, and since I’m visiting my sister.” She lifted her eyebrows as if to ask if Graham remembered that she’d be gone.

  He hadn’t remembered, but he nodded anyway.

  “Since I’ll be visiting my sister, Bree’s agreed to bring up the next batch of food.”

  “I can go to town,” Graham said. “I think I can stand to go back to Towers again.”

  Celia laughed and swatted his arm. “You’ll do no such thing. No one should eat a dozen onion rings the size of their head.”

  Graham smiled, took a couple bites of scrambled eggs just to appease her, and said, “I have to get out to the stable. Thanks for breakfast, Celia.”

  She grinned at him like he was her son, and said, “You work too hard.”

  “When there’s work to be done,” he said, his standard answer. And there was always work to be done. He stepped outside, the temperature about ten degrees colder than the day before. Now that December had arrived, Graham had been warned to expect snow every day until Christmas.

  The scent of snow hung in the air, the tops of the Tetons already dusted with the white stuff. Gray clouds loitered ominously, and Graham stuffed his hat lower on his head and bent into the wind on the way down to the stable.

  Frost covered everything, and the sight of it made anger slip through Graham’s bloodstream. But he’d chosen this, and he couldn’t be mad about it. Not anymore.

  He still had the three horses that had come with the lodge—Bolt, Clover, and Goldie. Out of the three of them, he liked the gelding the best, and Bolt was the first to greet him, as usual. The other two horses were slowing warming up to him, and Graham had read that horses could be very loyal animals. They’d obviously loved their previous owner, and no matter how many apples he brought out to them, Clover and Goldie still gave him disdainful looks before coming over to eat.

  At least he’d kept them all alive for almost a year. That right there was a major life accomplishment Graham had ne
ver aspired to. His phone rang, and Sam Buttars’s name popped up on the screen.

  His only other friend, and a grin tugged at the corners of Graham’s mouth. “Hey, Sam,” he said after opening the call.

  “Graham, how are you?”

  “Doin’ fine,” he said, feeling very cowboy-ish. He’d met up with Sam after discovering they had a mutual friend in Tucker Jenkins. Tucker actually bought the horse farm in Vermont where Sam and his brothers had worked for a few years. Ben, the youngest, was still there, but the other three brothers had moved on.

  Sam lived on his father’s farm with his wife Bonnie and their two kids. They’d had Graham over a few times over the past year, and he’d always enjoyed himself.

  “Bonnie wanted you to come to dinner this weekend. Doable?”

  Graham didn’t have his schedule in front of him, but it didn’t matter. He could spend eighty hours a week CEO-ing, and another twenty with the horses and buildings. Now the weather was turning bad, there wouldn’t be nearly as much to do around the ranch besides keeping the horses alive.

  “Definitely,” he said. Bonnie was an excellent cook, and his mouth started watering at the thought of her bacon and potato soup.

  “Want to bring someone?” Sam asked, his voice a bit too high.

  “What?” The word exploded out of Graham’s mouth.

  “Bonnie made me ask,” Sam hissed into the phone. “She says it’s not good for you to be holed up in that lodge all by yourself all the time.”

  “I’m not by myself,” he said, reaching for the pitchfork. “Celia’s here twice a week. Annie too. And Bree’s coming this weekend to get the place ready for the holidays.” And his entire family had committed to coming to Whiskey Mountain for Christmas as well. Though it was still three weeks off, a giddiness pranced through Graham’s chest at the thought of having all of his brothers and his mom together for a few days.