by Kate Pearce
Rachel picked up a bridle that someone had dropped on the floor, and checked the tab before rehanging it on the appropriate peg. “Before she met Paul she worked a lot. I hardly saw her.”
Long hours on her own in small cramped rooms where she wasn’t allowed to make a noise or play outside. When she wasn’t at school, days staring out of the window with nothing to do but wait for her mom to come home. By the age of five she’d known how to make her own meals and sometimes even her mother’s.
“I wish . . .” Billy started, and then stopped. “God, I wish things had been different. I wish I’d been a better husband and worked out how bad she was feeling before she felt she had to run away to be herself again.”
Rachel crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re remarkably forgiving. She walked out on you, and your sons—and let’s not forget she tried to drown a couple of her kids on the way out. Don’t you hate her for that?”
Billy considered her for a long moment. “I’ve had to let that anger go, Rachel. It was killing me, and driving way too many destructive behaviors.”
“So you’ve turned into some kind of saint now who forgives everyone?” Rachel only realized how angry she was when she started to shake.
“I’m no saint.” He shrugged. “I’m just trying to be a better person.”
“Well, good for you.” God, now that she’d started talking she couldn’t stop. “I wish I could be like that. I wish I could forgive her as easily for wrecking all our lives, for taking me away, for depriving me of all of this!”
“But you came back to us. You’re here now,” Billy reminded her.
“It’s not the same. It’s—” She finally got herself under control. “It’s not fair.”
Her mother’s cool, dismissive voice resonated in her head. Who ever told you that life would be fair, Rachel? Grow up.
Billy took a step toward her, the concern of his face made her back up, and he stopped moving.
“It’s okay to be angry with us, honey. We deserve it.”
“It’s not okay to be angry with your parents, and you know it.” Rachel swiped at her eyes. “What if I’d gotten angry with Mom leaving me all the time, and she’d decided to walk out on me as well?”
For a long moment, Billy just stared at her, and then he reached out and pulled her into his arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, love.”
Rachel resisted the temptation to bury her face into his solid shoulder and bawl like a little child. Crying had never gotten her anything, and she wasn’t about to start now. Being positive, staying happy, and never complaining were the only way to stay safe.
“Your mother and I were the ones who caused these problems, not you, and seeing as Annie is dead, it’s on me now.” Billy hugged her even tighter. “So if you want to talk, or vent, or just tell me to go to hell, I’m here for you. I’m going to listen and take whatever you need to say squarely in the face and live with it, okay?”
She drew back so she could see him. They were almost the same height and his eyes were the exact same shade of blue as hers.
“I don’t like feeling angry. It’s not me,” Rachel confessed.
His smile was so sweet it made her want to cry. “You can’t hurt her now, right? And she can’t hurt you. I’ve missed being your father for more than twenty years. Give me the chance to at least offer you that comfort now.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” Rachel offered. “It doesn’t seem fair for me to rage on you when you’ve already suffered yourself.”
“I deserved to suffer.” His smile disappeared. “Don’t ever forget that. You on the other hand had to deal with the fallout from the combustion of a marriage. It affected all of you in different ways, and we’re still dealing with the aftereffects now.” He squeezed her shoulder and stepped back. “All I’m saying is that if you need to talk anything through while you’re here, I’ll be around, okay?”
“Thank you.” Rachel swallowed a wedge of emotions threatening to block her throat. “I appreciate it.”
“Then how about we get on with cleaning up this barn, and you can tell me how things are going over at the Lymond Ranch with the lovely Cauy?”
Gratefully accepting the change of subject, Rachel picked up another bridle and then peered at Billy. “Why would you think I’d know anything about that?”
Billy winked at her. “Roy.”
“Oh.” Rachel returned the bridle and untangled a set of reins. “Cauy Lymond is . . .” She considered what to say next. “Infuriating.” Yeah, that about covered it.
“He’s certainly a man of few words.” Billy hung another coiled rope on a hook. “Do you like him?”
Rachel tried a careless shrug. “What’s to like? The man barely opens his mouth.”
“Some women like the quiet ones.”
“Not this woman. I like to chat. I need someone to chat back, and he thinks three sentences is an epic speech.”
“You got three sentences out of him? Awesome. Roy thinks Cauy likes you.”
“Really?” Rachel squeaked, and then tried to play down her enthusiasm. She was fairly certain Billy wasn’t fooled. “Not sure how he can tell.”
“Roy watches a lot of reality TV and always wins the sweepstakes for any dating game.”
“Roy does?”
“Yeah, I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s a secret talent of his.” Billy started on the untidy pile of saddle blankets, heaving them around without even breaking a sweat. “He seems to think Cauy has his eye on you.”
“Like I’d care.” Rachel replaced a fallen halter on its peg and hoped Billy wouldn’t see her blushing in the dim light. “He’s a loner, he’s not even sure if he’s going to stay on the ranch. He’s made it perfectly clear that he’s fed up with the Morgans trying to be nice and neighborly to him.”
Billy chuckled. “I hope you’re wrong about that.”
“Why?”
“Because Ry’s gone over there this morning with a proposal to tie our ranches way more closely together than ever before.”
* * *
Cauy angled the phone against his ear as he attempted to maneuver around the horse’s rear and get out of the stall.
“Yeah, I’m still here, Kim. Keep talking.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Kim asked. “Sounds like you’re in the middle of a circus or something.”
“Something like that.” Cauy shut the stall door and slid the bolt home. “Just mucking out the horses, then I’ve got to go into town, get some lumber, and stop by the feed store.”
His lawyer snorted. “You don’t sound like yourself at all.”
“I’m not.” Cauy returned the empty pail to the tack room and added grooming tools to his ever-growing list. “I’ve gone back to my roots, remember?”
“I thought you were just going to check things out and leave?”
“And go where? Lorelei got the house, the cars, and custody of the cats. I got a run-down family ranch.”
“I’ve been working on that Morgan issue for you. Should I stop?”
“I assume you’re billing me massive amounts of cash for what you’ve done so far, so you’re hardly out of pocket,” Cauy pointed out.
“Special rate for you, my old friend, but yeah, I’m making bank. You still want to make that claim for the Morgan land?”
Cauy contemplated the crisp black line of the Sierra mountains against the white sky and let out his breath. “I don’t think I’m going to pursue that claim.”
“So I should stop?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn. It was fun raking up all that old family history. Speaking of which, your bro was asking me where you were yesterday.”
Cauy winced. “Tell him I’m at the ranch, and to call me on my cell if he needs anything.”
“Will do.” Kim paused. “Anything else I can bill you for right now?”
“Not that I can think of, you bloodsucking leech.”
Kim laughed heartily. “Okay, I’ll send o
ver what I’ve found out so far. Maybe you can review it and give me a final, definite no.”
“Sure, but you’ll have to print it out for me. I’ve got no printer, and I can’t stare at a screen too long or I’ll get a headache.”
“Got it. Does FedEx deliver out there or will I need the Pony Express?”
“Cute. Now go and prey on some other poor client, and stop billing me for this call.” Cauy smiled even though Kim couldn’t see him. “Happy holidays, Kim.”
“Right back at you, my favorite client.”
Cauy ended the call and slid his cell back into his jeans pocket. He’d met Kim, a Korean-American, at night school when they were both studying for their degrees after a full day of real work. They’d hit it off immediately and stayed friends even when Cauy’s life had changed so dramatically.
His time in Texas already felt like a dream. Being back on the ranch, relearning all the tasks he’d completed as a kid had a familiarity to it that soothed his soul. The idea of taking on the Morgans in the courts seemed wrong somehow. Being out here alone was healing him in some weird, unexpected ways.
Speaking of the Morgans . . .
“Here they come again,” Cauy sighed.
Roy’s truck bounced along the pitted track and came to a juddering stop in front of the barn. Another long, tall cowboy accompanied him.
“Morning, Cauy.” Roy gesticulated at the blond next to him. “This is Ry Morgan. He works with me.”
Ry Morgan had the same blond coloring as Rachel, but hazel eyes and a pleasant expression.
“Good to see you again, Cauy. Can I run something by you?”
Cauy took them up to the house and into the warm kitchen where he’d lit the range. The coffee was still drinkable so he poured them all a cup and sat down at the kitchen table.
“You know we’re operating the ranch mainly as a dude ranch now?” Ry asked.
“So I gathered,” Cauy said cautiously.
“Well, that brings some problems along with it.”
“Okay.”
“We need a constant stream of good horses for the guests, and at the moment that’s proving to be a worry.”
“How so?” Cauy asked despite himself.
“Sometimes new riders do stupid shit and damage a horse, or lose control and scare the horse so we need to retrain them. After the first season we had about six horses out of commission at any one time, and that meant we were short.”
“I can see that might be an issue.” Cauy nodded.
“Okay, so until we get permission to build our new barn, which will house an additional thirty horses, I’d like to ask you if you’d act as our backup barn.” Ry sat back and stared expectantly at Cauy.
“I don’t quite get what you want.”
“We’d house an extra stream of trained horses here for when the others go down.”
“Why can’t one of the other ranchers help you with this?” Cauy asked.
“Because they’re all working ranches and have a full workload already, and no space for spare mounts. You have a whole barn out there, which just needs cleaning out. We’d pay you for the space, obviously, and the inconvenience. You wouldn’t have to do anything unless you wanted to.”
“Who’d be managing the day-to-day care?” Cauy took a sip of coffee.
“We would, and the payoff is that once those horses are taken care of you could take advantage of the hands to restore your place at no cost to you.”
“Whose idea was this?” Cauy looked from Roy to Ry.
“Mine.” Roy put up his hand. “We’ve been wondering what to do about this problem for a while now—can’t build over the winter—but will need space before a new barn is completed. When we cleared out your barn yesterday a little light bulb went off in my head, and I called Ry. What do you think?”
The idea of being surrounded by people made him want to shut the idea down immediately, but the potential of setting the ranch to rights more quickly made him hesitate.
“Can I take some time to think about it?” Cauy asked.
“Sure.” Roy grinned at him while Ry simply looked calm. “We’d make it all legal and stuff. We’re right next door and we’re not planning on going anywhere.”
“Thanks.” Cauy rose to his feet hoping the other two would take the hint and leave rather than coming up with yet another idea to help him out. “I was just about to run into town and pick up some supplies, so . . .”
“Don’t worry, son. We know when we’re not wanted.” Roy winked at him and struggled out of the chair. “We’ve got the last group of guests to get through the next few days and then we’re done for the year.” He sighed. “And this bunch have been a doozy. All guys for some reason, and all trying to prove who is the stupidest.”
Ry shared a quick smile with Cauy. “He’s right. This lot is the pits. Half of them think they’re Billy the Kid, and the others have a way higher opinion of their riding skills than they should have after three days.”
Cauy couldn’t imagine wrangling with strangers on his own ranch. He followed Roy out to the truck alongside Ry.
“Are you okay with the dude ranch thing?” Cauy had to ask. “It sounds like a lot of work.”
“Yeah, it is, but I love it, and it did save the ranch.” Ry grimaced. “This particular group sucks. I’ll be pleased to wave them good-bye and hope they never return.” He shook Cauy’s hand. “If you can see your way to helping us out over the next few months I’d be really grateful.”
“Got it.” Cauy stepped back as Ry got into the truck and slammed the passenger door. “I’ll let you know as soon as possible.”
Cauy cautiously considered the idea as he drove down to Morgantown. It wouldn’t hurt him to help out, and he’d be getting something in return. His father wouldn’t have liked it at all, but the longer he stayed at the ranch, the more Cauy doubted his father’s account of how everyone in Morgan Valley had ganged up on him and tried to put him out of business.
His father’s neglect of the once prosperous ranch was no one’s fault but his own, meaning Cauy didn’t owe his father’s ghost any payback. He pulled into the parking lot between the lumberyard and feed store and considered where to start. He had a list of supplies as long as his arm so there was no point in rushing.
Most of the items he wanted were large and heavy so he might need some help. His attention was caught by a small gray pickup truck with the Morgan Ranch logo on the side parked right in front of the feed store. Was Ruth Morgan in there? Cauy backed up and decided to start at the lumberyard. He’d seen enough Morgans for one day....
Devin Lassiter, who ran the lumberyard, was more than willing not only to help Cauy with his list, but also to load his truck. Seeing as the guy had the body of a linebacker, Cauy mainly got to stand back and admire the ease with which Devin chucked things around.
“I’ll call you when that roof tile comes in, okay?” Devin wiped his brow and replaced his baseball cap on his head. “Your account’s all set up now so you’re good to go.”
“Thanks for your help,” Cauy said, shaking Devin’s hand. “I appreciate it.”
“If you get stuck and need a list of local contractors, I’ve got one and they’re all good workers.”
“Thanks.” Cauy locked his truck and turned toward the feed store as Devin went back inside whistling to his dog.
The Morgan Ranch truck was still parked near the front of the feed store, but Cauy didn’t have enough time left to be shy. If Ruth was in there, he’d either try to avoid her or be polite until he could escape. He found himself smiling as he walked up the slope of the loading bay.
There was no sign of any of the family in the store, and he found all the stuff he needed. One more trip to Maureen’s and he’d be set. He loaded up his truck and then went to the rear of the building to pick up a bag of chicken feed from the stack piled outside.
“Hey!”
He looked up to see Rachel waving frantically at him. She was crouched down beside one of the large metal
bins. His feet took him in her direction before he made an actual choice to go there.
“What’s up?” Cauy asked. “Are you okay?”
She glanced up at him. “Can you hold my legs?”
“What?”
She stood up. “There’s something stuck in the bottom of this bin, and I can’t reach it. If you held on to me I could get down there.”
Cauy looked helplessly back at the feed store, but there was no sign of life. “Er . . .”
“Look, Em won’t mind. She’s busy helping someone pick out some chicks, and she’s all alone in the store right now seeing as Ben’s sick.”
Cauy peered down into the vast metal bin, and the echo made him feel physically sick. “I can’t go down there.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’ll do it, I just need you to help me.” Rachel met his gaze, her blue eyes full of worry. “Please, Cauy, don’t be a jerk.”
He sighed. “It might be a raccoon, or a squirrel, or something that can get out all by itself if you just left it the hell alone.”
“Or it might be stuck.”
Cauy took another desperate look around, but he was on his own. “Okay.”
“Great!” She started to climb onto the edge of the bin, meaning her denim-clad ass was now level with his face.
“Hold up.” Cauy instinctively reached out to steady her, his hand on her calf. “Do you have gloves on, and something to wrap around the critter?”
“Did you just say critter?” Rachel grinned down at him.
“What’s wrong with that?” Cauy raised an eyebrow.
“It sounds like something Roy would say right along with varmint.” She put on her gloves. “Get me that feed sack, I can wrap the ‘critter’ in there.”
“How about rather than going headfirst I lower you down, and then pull you back out?” Cauy suggested.
“I’m not sure I want to put my feet down there.” She shuddered. “It looks kind of gross.”
“So you’ll risk your beautiful face instead, got it,” Cauy muttered.
Rachel stared at him until he almost started to sweat.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just hold on to my feet, okay?”