Can't Stop Believing (HARMONY)

by Jodi Thomas

  “Where do you like to eat?” He waited for her to step into the elevator. When the door closed she became very much aware of him in the small space.

  “I don’t usually eat out in town. I have a great cook at the ranch.”

  “I like the diner across the street and down a few doors. I eat there now and then. Whatever’s on the daily special is usually good.”

  She nodded, making note that he wasn’t particular about his food, or apparently his clothes. The pant legs of the suit were an inch shorter than they should be, and with his light brown hair, the gray suit washed him out like a camera shot out of focus.

  “I need to check in at the office, then I’ll meet you there,” she said as she moved outside.

  “Fine,” he answered. “There’s something I need to take care of too. Thirty minutes?”

  “Thirty minutes,” she said, and almost ran to her car. As she drove the few blocks to her offices, she noticed him walking toward Parker Trucking and guessed he was going to quit.

  Thirty minutes later, it was almost noon and the Blue Moon Diner was packed when they met at the door and walked in. Several people looked up, but no one spoke. She recognized a few of the town’s folks but couldn’t call them by name. The Britains didn’t mix with the locals, never had.

  “Friendly group,” Cord mumbled as he slid into the booth across from her. “Must be you. I can’t think of a thing I’ve done wrong lately.”

  She smiled. “If you weren’t married to me, you probably wouldn’t speak to me either.”

  “You got that right.” He surprised her when he winked at her.

  Nevada laughed. He was being honest, just like she’d asked. Suddenly it didn’t matter that folks thought the Britains were uppity or that Cord was an ex-con. “If I weren’t married to you I wouldn’t talk to you either, Mr. McDowell.”

  “Sounds like a great way to start a marriage, Mrs. McDowell.”

  She caught the corner of his mouth lifting slightly before he raised his menu and said, “It’s going to be a conversation-packed marriage. I can already tell.”

  Staring at her menu, she fought down a giggle. Maybe, just maybe, this marriage might be tolerable. At least until he got to know her. Then, like all the other husbands, he’d begin to pick her apart. Thanks to her father, her brothers, and three ex-husbands, she’d learned the hard way that something—no, maybe everything as far as they were concerned—was wrong with her. Only this time, after the eight months was up, she wouldn’t stay around for the insults. This time she’d planned her escape ahead of time. She’d walk away with a working ranch, and he’d have money for a fresh start at his old place. If trouble didn’t come, they might just both survive until winter.

  They ordered, then sat in silence for a while. Absently, she played with the wedding band. “Thanks for thinking of the ring,” she finally said.

  “It was my mother’s,” he answered. “When you pull it off, Nevada, I’ll pack. No discussion. No argument. Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough.” He’d just answered one of her worries as if he’d read her mind. Now all that she could hope for was that he might truly be a man of his word. “I’ll give it back when we’re over, but it was a nice gesture.”

  “I won’t need it again.”

  She felt sad somehow for him. “You never know. You might marry again one day and want your wife to have the ring.”

  “I don’t think so. You’re the only woman who’s come down the road asking in three years. What are the odds of it happening again?”

  She laughed. “After being married to me for a while, you’ll probably swear off women forever.”

  “You that much of a tornado, Nevada?”

  She stared straight into his brown eyes. “And if I am?”

  He didn’t turn away. “I’ve always liked the wind.”

  She relaxed slightly. For the first time since she’d walked up to his porch last night, she felt like they just might have a chance of making this contract work for both of them.

  They ate their meal in silence. The waitress brought the bill and he pulled cash from his pocket and paid. From the way he looked at his money, she guessed there was no reserve in his pocket.

  When he stood to leave, he offered her his hand. She felt his strong grip around her fingers, and a bit of the nervousness that had kept her awake all night returned. For the hundredth time she wondered if she’d made the right decision. In a lifetime of turning the wrong way at every corner, fate had to let her make a right turn sometime, and maybe this was it.

  He didn’t let go of her hand until they were past all the people and out in the street.

  “We need to stop at the bank,” she said. “I called them this morning. They’ll have everything ready.”

  He nodded, as if he knew what she was talking about.

  When she walked in, she was halfway to the president’s office before she realized Cord had turned off at the first teller.

  She waited, trying to look patient until he joined her. “Have to stop and visit, did you?” The young teller was still smiling at Cord and acting like she didn’t even notice Nevada.

  “No.” He didn’t explain what he’d been doing. “You jealous already?”

  The question was so ridiculous she almost laughed. “No, but I hate to be kept waiting. You might want to remember that. Let’s get this done.”

  She marched into the president’s office and they began to sign papers again. Nevada couldn’t keep from watching him shift slightly when the banker told Cord that he’d have sole control of the Boxed B Ranch accounts.

  Somehow they’d managed to get him a leather folder of business checks with his name engraved along the bottom and the Boxed B brand just below.

  “Nevada can still sign on the accounts, but she tells me you’ll be handling them. If you have any questions, Mr. McDowell, just let me know. The general account has bonds in reserve, but if you need money for a short run, we’ll be happy to extend you a line of credit.”

  The banker passed him a money bag. “This is the cash Nevada said you’d need to keep on hand at the ranch.” He handed Cord a debit card. “This draws off the checking account for any little expenses. I’m afraid if you need more than a thousand in one day you’ll need to write a check.” He grinned. “I’m guessing you’re going to pay off what’s left of that loan on your farm today.”

  Cord raised his head slowly from the debit card. “You’re guessing wrong. I’ll be in next month with another payment if you’ve no objection. That’s my land, my responsibility. I’ll pay it off with my money.”

  “But . . .”

  Cord put on his hat. “Thank you for the help, but we need to be getting home.”

  To her surprise, Cord offered his arm to her. When she took it, he walked out of the bank as if he didn’t notice everyone staring. Half the people in the bank must have figured out that they were married, and they couldn’t have looked more shocked if she’d hitched up with one of her daddy’s prize longhorns.

  As before, when they were outside, he let go of her hand. “Is that all we have to do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’ve had enough of town.”

  “Me too.” They agreed on something.

  “I’ll follow you back to your place,” he said, pulling off his suit jacket as they walked toward the parking lot.

  “Is that your trailer with a horse inside?” The old blue pickup she’d seen on their road was now hooked to the oldest horse trailer she’d ever seen.

  “Yeah. I had to bring him along. I couldn’t leave him behind, not knowing when I’d get back to feed him, and the pasture fences wouldn’t hold him.”

  She ran to the trailer and looked inside. A powerful gray stallion stomped and pushed against the trailer wall. “Cord, he’s beautiful.” She hadn’t expected that he’d bring more than a suitcase to her land and certainly not a fine horse.

  Cord stood beside her and smiled. “His mother was my horse when I was a kid. Only hors
e we ever had on the farm. My dad wasn’t fond of them, but my mother thought I should have a horse, so my dad found a gentle mare. When I went to prison, my dad just turned her to pasture. He wrote me a year later and said she’d had a colt. By the time I got out he was grown and wild.”

  “But who was . . .”

  “They say mustangs run deep in the canyon, but I’ve never seen them. More than likely, one of your stallions jumped the fence and found my mare.”

  “My horses would never have come over uninvited. They’re all thoroughbreds.” She laughed. “What do you call him?”

  “Devil. My grandfather told me once that his father said the finest horse he’d ever seen was named Devil, so I thought I’d call him that.”

  “Well, he’s welcome to come over to stay, but I’ll not have him mixing with my mares. I’ll bet he doesn’t even have papers.”

  Cord shrugged. “Nope, neither do I. You sure you want to take us in?”

  “I’m sure about the horse. The jury’s still out on you.” A man who loved his horse couldn’t be all bad, she decided. “I only ask one favor: If you come home with me, you’ve got to let me buy the right clothes for your life as a rancher. That suit looks like Bailey Brothers pulled it off a rack they had in the basement from the 1980s.”

  “I don’t care much about clothes, and picking this suit out was pure torture. Knock yourself out. I’ll wear whatever you want me to as long as it’s not orange. I hate that color. Mr. Bailey, back in the store, insisted on taking my measurements, so he should know the sizes. I don’t plan on going in for a fitting again in this lifetime. Most clothes I’ve ever bought, I just held them up to see if they’d fit.”

  She stepped away from the trailer and hurried to her car. They’d just settled their first agreement in marriage. Maybe things would go smoothly for a change. She had a world of problems lurking like spiders in the shadows, and Cord might just take one of them off her hands.

  Her last husband, rich with his family’s oil money, wanted her ranch and thought she came with it. With the ranch crumbling from neglect and poor management, he might have had a chance to buy it, but if Cord could turn the Boxed B around, it would remain hers. She’d bought her brother’s share when their father died and she planned to keep it, only Bryce Galloway had fought the divorce and kept her in court long enough to drain her reserves. She knew she had only one summer’s stake left to make the ranch pay.

  Driving onto her land, Nevada smiled. This was her home, and she’d never give it up without a fight. This land was not something her ex-husband could have just because he wanted it. It wasn’t for sale, and neither was she. Bryce Galloway would just have to get used to the fact that there were some things no amount of money would buy.

  She remembered Cord gripping her hand when the banker went over the accounts. It must have looked like a great deal of money for running a ranch, but it would be needed to make a profit this year.

  Five hours later, she was frustrated and Cord was furious. They’d gone over the books, and even she could see that a ranch with the best equipment and finest stock around was losing money. It didn’t appear that any of the three bookkeepers she’d had in the past year had embezzled, but all the part-time foremen were obviously wasting money and showing little profit.

  “I’ll go put on some coffee.” She headed toward the kitchen. To her surprise, he followed her.

  Without asking, he began opening cabinets.

  “Looking for something?”

  “Food,” he answered, without stopping his search. “I’ve developed this habit. I like to eat at least a couple times a day.” He pulled out a dozen eggs and a skillet. “Hand me the butter and cheese.”

  Before she knew it she was chopping up a salad while he scrambled eggs. She asked if he wanted her to open a bottle of wine, but he shook his head and poured two glasses of milk.

  They ate in a comfortable silence, both calming down from the stress of the day. All afternoon Cord had asked her questions about the ranch, and her answer was always the same: I don’t know. She had all she could handle taking care of her prize horses and running the trust as well as the oil corporation. At the end of the day there was never any time to study ranch business. The place had been running itself for two years, and it hadn’t been running well. Since her longtime foreman had been fired by her last husband, the men who stepped into the job seemed to be progressing steadily into incompetence.

  “Tell me how the house runs.” He finally broke the silence. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

  She thought about saying that it was the staff’s job to stay out of his way, but she just stated the facts. “My cook usually comes about nine. I don’t eat breakfast. She does the light cleaning, the laundry, and the cooking. She leaves about five unless I have guests and need her to stay. When I entertain, the bunkhouse cook, who is also her husband, usually helps her. A couple comes in once a week for the heavy cleaning and the yard work in the courtyard, but Ora Mae, my cook, has an herb garden off the back porch.”

  Cord listened as he ate.

  “Ten years ago, before she ran off, my dad’s last wife insisted on a courtyard, and somehow we’ve managed to keep it up.”

  “What time is breakfast at the bunkhouse?”

  “Seven, I think.”

  “Monday morning we’ll have breakfast in the bunkhouse with the men. After the hands settle into the fact that I’m running the ranch, you can sleep in if you like, but I’ll eat with them every morning. After Monday, breakfast will always be served at dawn in the bunkhouse until fall.”

  He finished off her last bite of egg and added, “Ready to get back to the books? I thought when we’re finished I’d like to see maps. As you know, I’ve flown over your land a few times, but I need to know every inch of it.”

  She groaned but followed him back to the massive old study she’d always thought of as her father’s even though he’d been dead for two years.

  After answering a dozen more questions, she tugged off her shoes and curled into her father’s old leather chair. It still smelled of his pipe tobacco and the right arm had worn from years of balancing a whiskey glass. She didn’t miss her father or mother, but now and then she missed the parents they might have been. She missed having just one memory of her father reading to her in this chair. Just one simple memory would have been something to hold on to.

  An hour later she fell asleep wondering if this strange man she’d just married would ever stop working.

  Chapter 5

  DUPLEX NEAR THE TOWN SQUARE

  RONNY LOGAN STOOD IN THE DARK SHADOWS OF THE front yard of the duplex she’d rented for two years. As the lights of the old town square blinked a shadowy yellow, memories flowed around her in the cool breeze. She felt like she’d been asleep the first twenty-seven years of her life, a shy child dominated by an overbearing mother. Through childhood she’d believed she was loved and her mother was trying to mold her into the perfect little girl, but during her teens she realized she’d never pass Dallas Logan’s scrutiny. Her mother saw her as not just flawed, but damaged. By Ronny’s twentieth birthday, her mother had convinced her that she was worthless.

  Her father had simply been Dallas’s first victim, and he hadn’t done much better than his daughter. When he died, however, he left his half of the house to his only child. Since she finished school, Ronny had worked at the post office, as silent and invisible as a midnight mouse. She’d believed nothing would ever change, and then one day while making a delivery, she met a handsome man in a wheelchair, and her world moved from gray to bright colors.

  Within a few months she bloomed, and when Marty Winslow left Harmony one night without saying good-bye, she ran away from home and moved into his old apartment. Dallas disowned her ungrateful daughter of twenty-seven years, and Ronny decided she’d survive better on her own. Marty Winslow might not have stayed around, but he’d believed in her, and one person believing is a long way from none. He gave her hope.

  Only now,
standing with the moonlight breeze blowing her long brown hair as the gentle sounds of Harmony surrounded her, Ronny Logan knew her life was about to change again, and this time was far more frightening than leaving home.

  “You all right out here?” Beau Yates, her neighbor, startled her as he rounded the corner. Like her, he always dressed in a black jacket and dark jeans to move through the streets after dark.

  “I’m fine,” she answered as he seemed to materialize from the shadows. He was younger than her and always kind, even though with his black hair and late hours she often thought him more vampire than human. “I thought you were playing at the bar tonight.”

  “I am. I just ran home to pick up my new guitar. It seemed easier than driving the few blocks. My lungs could use the fresh air.” He opened the unlocked side of the duplex and grabbed a case that must have been waiting at the door for him. “I have to get back before the break is over. The thought of Border playing on his own scares me.” Beau laughed. “There’s only a dozen drunks still in there tonight, but they’d give their best try at murdering him if he played.”

  Ronny didn’t laugh at his joke, so he slowed, trying to see her in the poor light. “You sure you’re all right, Ronny?”

  “I’m all right, Beau.” She couldn’t think of a lie, and he didn’t seem to need one. When you’re twenty, nothing about life makes sense so you don’t bother questioning.

  He leaned against the wall as if sensing she needed to not be alone for a moment. “I like the stillness of this time of night. One of these days I’m going to write a song. I think I’m going to call it ‘Between Heartbeats’ because that’s kind of what it feels like.”

  When she didn’t say anything, he pushed away from the side of the house and headed toward the road with a wave and a flash of a smile.

  As she listened to him jogging back toward the bar, she grinned at him even though he’d gone. Beau and his roommate, Border Biggs, made her life easier. Her neighbors reminded her of two pups, always getting into trouble, always hungry. They never went to bed before two and burned everything they cooked, but Beau could play and sing good enough to make you believe heaven was piped with country music, and Border was always there backing him up on stage and off.