“Whatever you have is fine with me,” Pam told him. “It’s the principle of the thing that’s important here. You and your brothers have an open tab and you’re paying on it, whatever you can, whenever you can.” She crossed her arms in front of her, as if daring him to contradict her.
His momma raised him right. “Yes, ma’am.” They settled up and he tipped his hat. “Thank you, Miss Pam.”
She shook her head at him. “You know that makes me feel really old when you call me that.”
He shrugged. “Old habits die hard. My grandpa would have smacked me in the back of the head if I didn’t pay proper respect to you.”
Her sad smile had him realizing he and his brothers weren’t the only ones who missed Hank Garahan. She blinked and cleared her throat. “Well now. What else can I do for you today?”
He put his hands in his back pockets and rocked back on his boot heels. “Could you or your sister use another clerk here at Dawson’s?”
He guessed from the surprised look on her face that his question hadn’t been what she’d been expecting from him. “We’ve only got two part-timers on my side of the store, but in a pinch, there are times I could use one more body. Why?”
He shrugged. “Just asking.”
She wasn’t having any of it. Frowning up at him, she started tapping the toe of her boot. “You’d best tell me now; you know I’ll find out as soon as Mavis drops by. The woman knows everything.”
That had him grinning. He’d been hoping to run into her at Dawson’s. “I stopped to help someone on my way into town. Her car overheated.”
“And she’s looking for work in town? A stranger?”
“She is now but didn’t used to be.” He shifted from one foot to the other, unnerved by her close scrutiny.
“Well, this is like pulling teeth. Save us both the time it’d require for me to keep asking while you keep hemming and hawing, and just tell me.”
He laughed and told her what happened on his ride into town.
“Well then, she’s got to be Jimmy Sullivan’s niece Danielle, the one who married that bull rider a few years back. Jimmy’s right proud of her, though she hasn’t been to see him in half a dozen years.”
“Well, since you know her,” he began, intrigued by the prospect of keeping the curvy little blonde close by so he could get to know her better, “do you know of anybody in town with a job opening?”
“Like I said, my side of the store—the hardware side—doesn’t really need too many people working at one time, but on the food side—my sister’s side—well now she just might need a new cashier,” she said, tapping her cheek with her finger. “Let’s go ask her.”
A half an hour later, Jesse had planted the bug in enough ears about Danielle Brockway looking for a job that the network of busybodies should be on full alert and looking. His work here was done, but now he was an hour or so behind schedule.
Thinking and driving, he nearly shot past the disabled car at the side of the road. Pulling a quick one-eighty, he put it in park and walked over to Danielle’s car. As expected, the engine block had cooled enough that it was easy to see what had caused the vehicle to overheat: she was low on coolant and the engine nearly seized. Ranchers were pretty much a self-sufficient bunch; since that one time he’d cooked the engine and cracked the head on his grandfather’s truck, Jesse made sure he always had a gallon of water and couple bottles of 10W40. He always took care to keep his engine running cool and lubed. It was too expensive to keep replacing the damned heads all of the time, and unless you had a connection over in Mesquite, you paid through the nose for a new one—forget about the price for a new engine block; he’d park the darned truck and go back to riding his horse everywhere rather than pay for a new engine.
He’d have to ask Tyler or Dylan to help him drop off the car tonight. It would be really late, but at least he’d more than fulfilled his promise to the ladies… well, one of his promises. He called Sullivan’s Diner and left a message for Danielle that her car was good to go and that he’d drop it off later.
Life was funny; today was the first time Sullivan had spoken to a Garahan in fifteen years and all because Jesse had stopped to do a good deed. Maybe Sullivan would give him a clean slate. Yeah, he thought… not happening. Chuckling to himself, he got out, opened the gate, and drove on through. Putting the truck in park, he let his mind drift while he got out to shut the gate.
When the ranch house came into view, he just had to stop and stare. Emily and Ronnie must have been at it again. Flowers spilled out of planters at the foot of the front steps and there were planters sitting on top of the porch railing.
He shook his head. “Man… what is it with women and flowers? Couldn’t they plant trees instead? We could use the shade over by the barn where the old Red Oak died.”
No one was around when he pulled up out back, so he didn’t bother going inside. Once he’d saddled up, he rode out to the southern pasture to catch up to his brothers.
“’Bout time you showed up, Bro,” Dylan called out. “We needed you about an hour ago.”
“Sorry, had to rescue a damsel in distress on my way into town.”
When he didn’t say anymore, his brothers gradually made their way over to where Jesse was checking the herd. With a brother on each side of him, he felt hemmed in. Familiar with the tactic, he pulled back on the reins, but his brothers had anticipated the move and boxed him in.
Tyler grinned at him. “Is she a redhead?”
Dylan shook his head. “Bet she’s got long dark hair, like my bride.”
Jesse wanted to hang on to the irritation building inside of him, fan the flames until he could work up to a serious mad, but the way his brothers started arguing over which hair color was the sexiest had him chuckling.
“You’re both whipped and don’t even know it.”
“No way,” Tyler disagreed.
“Who’s whipped?” Dylan demanded.
Jesse just shook his head and his smile widened. “The two of you. Hell, no sense trying to pretty it up when the proof is staring you in the face. Those two women—really fine women I might add—have the both of you wrapped up so tight around their fingers it’s a wonder either of you can breathe.”
Tyler’s face turned an interesting shade of red while Dylan’s jaw clenched. Now we’re getting somewhere, Jesse thought. Both brothers ready to take a swing at me. Hell yeah! I’m ready to rumble.
But before he could tense up, preparing to fight back, Tyler and Dylan did something completely out of character for either of them—they shrugged and eased away from Jesse. Damn.
Mumbling to himself, he urged his mount over toward the group of steer on the next rise—just part of the job, ensuring that their herd was in prime health. Every once in a while, one of their animals would show signs of lameness and they’d have to do a careful inspection of the animal’s hooves, checking for the cause of the injury. Most often it was caused by a rock, a bit of wood, or a thorn. Removing the object and cleaning and trimming the hoof before using antiseptic was the rule of thumb on the Circle G. They didn’t prescribe to the notion of additives in their herd’s feed, so their only other choice was to call the vet—that was expensive and used for rare instances where there really was something that the brothers couldn’t handle.
Breathing deeply, Jesse surveyed the land around him and smiled. They’d continued the Garahan tradition of cultivating their pastureland with a mixture of native grasses: little bluestems, Bermuda grass, crabgrass, millet, and love grass in the warm season, and cereal rye, rye, and wheat in the cool season for extended spring grazing.
They’d never really been certain about Grandpa’s insistence that the love grass would encourage fertility and the millet would discourage prussic acid. But their herd produced healthy offspring every spring, and they’d been careful not to plant any sorghum or Sudan grass, both known to contain prussic acid—the deadly, fast-acting plant toxin—so there hadn’t been a reason to doubt his word.
&
nbsp; “And most folks think a cowboy’s life is easy.” Still smiling, Jesse made his way through the longhorns grazing peacefully on the rise. Satisfied that everything was normal, he moved to the next section he’d been assigned that morning. Danielle and Lacy weren’t far from his thoughts. Distracted, he fought to regain his balance by drawing in a breath and looking around him. A deep calm washed over him, because as far as he could see lay Garahan land. Pride filled him. They were holding on to the Circle G and contributing to the heritage of the great state of Texas by continuing to raise longhorns. They’d thought about crossbreeding, but in the end hadn’t because so many of their herd’s qualities were appealing; longhorns are intelligent, gentle, and long lived. The cows are productive and protective, while the bulls are strong and sturdy with lean, flavorful beef. Though he’d learned early on that they weren’t pets, he had named a few when he was younger.
Even though the calving season was over, they were still vigilant, as far as keeping an eye out for the calves that would somehow manage to get caught in places they couldn’t get out of. They were easy to find, because the calf’s mother would either be doing her best to extricate her young or bawling like crazy to let one of them know there was a problem.
A man of the land and committed to their way of life, Jesse wondered what it would be like to have a woman by his side, just as determined. Would she be like Emily—not all that savvy when it came to raising stock but an absolute whiz with accounting and pinching pennies? Maybe she would be more like Ronnie, a great cook but also at home in the saddle.
His thoughts drifted back to the pretty little blonde and her pink, pixie daughter. Something about Danielle as an adult reminded him of her when she was younger. The sound of rapidly approaching horses drew him back to the present. He turned toward the sound. “What’s up?”
“Didn’t you hear us calling you?” Dylan demanded.
He shrugged.
“We’re finished out here, heading back to the ranch.” Tyler asked, “You coming?”
“Yeah. Herd looks good.”
“It was a productive spring,” Tyler agreed. “Now all we have to do is keep our eyes peeled and our ears on.”
“We’ll be ready for trouble,” Dylan said. “Not that we expect any, but it pays to be ready for anything.”
“Have we alienated anyone in town lately?”
Dylan grinned. “Weren’t you the last one in town, Bro?”
Jesse shrugged. “I paid down some of the feed bill and what we owed at Dawson’s.”
Tyler was watching him like a hawk about to snag a fat mouse on the fly. “You didn’t stop off at the bank to pick a fight with Mike Baker, did you?”
“Hell no,” Jesse grumbled. “I haven’t talked to him since before his sister tried to get her hooks into your hide a little while back.”
Tyler clenched his jaw.
Dylan snickered. “She was persistent. You have to give her that much.”
“Just don’t let Emily hear you say that,” Jesse warned. “She’s a mite protective of our big brother.”
That had their brother relaxing his facial muscles, easing the tension in his jaw. “Works both ways.”
Jesse picked up on the possibility that there had been trouble in town at the Lucky Star. “Did someone try to break into the club again?”
Dylan shook his head. “Not that we’ve heard. That new dancer Jolene hired seems to be working out.”
Jesse was ready, willing, and able to step into his brother’s shoes—make that spandex briefs—if the ladies over at the Lucky Star needed him, but so far they hadn’t needed him to. “Maybe I should call her.”
Tyler grinned. “Jolene is a woman of her word; she’ll call if they need you, Bro. Besides,” he said, turning his horse toward home, “things are mighty busy around here. We need you. Jolene understands.”
Bummed that he was the only Garahan who hadn’t been up on the stage and the recipient of all of that feminine adoration rankled, but he wouldn’t let his brothers know or they’d ride his case mercilessly. Hell, he would if the tables were turned—it’s what brothers do.
“No problem.” He waited a moment then followed after his brothers. They hadn’t asked about the woman he’d rescued on the way into town. He figured they knew he wanted to tell them about Danielle… the bastards. He grinned.
The closer they got to home, the more he was convinced that they were messing with him—what else was new? He was the youngest, low man on the totem pole, the one who always had to ride shotgun so that he could get out and open and shut the gate.
“Hell.”
By the time he’d made it back to the barn, he was only five minutes behind his brothers and the last to care for his horse.
As he walked into the kitchen, Dylan was leaning with his back against the counter and boots crossed at the ankles. “She was a blonde, wasn’t she?”
Jesse laughed. He couldn’t help it; he’d won their little game because Dylan asked before Jesse could offer any information about the damsel in distress. “And had a way of filling out her jeans that would make a man sit up and beg.”
“That good?” Tyler asked, pulling a casserole dish out of the refrigerator before turning toward Dylan. “What was it that Ronnie said was in this dish again?”
“Stuffed eggplant.”
“Mom never made anything with egg plants in it,” Jesse grumbled.
“It’s got nothing to do with eggs, brainless,” Tyler added. “I’ve only had it breaded and fried. What’s it stuffed with?”
Dylan grinned. “Really gooey, tasty cheese. Try it,” he urged his brothers. “It tastes great.”
“That’s because Ronnie cooked it.”
Dylan shrugged. “My wife’s a great cook.”
The brothers agreed she’d saved them from starvation and Jesse’s rotgut chili.
“Yeah,” Jesse said, “but she can’t make chili.”
Dylan grinned. “She’s been working on perfecting a recipe—just for you.”
“Really? Cool.” Nobody’d done that since their mom had died. Their mom knew what each one of them considered his favorite meal, pie, cake, cookies, snacks, and flavor of soda. She was one in a million. Sometimes he missed her so much, his chest ached.
He rubbed at the dull, hollow feeling creeping inside of him. Hard to believe it had been nearly twenty years since she’d been gone. He’d buried the hurt deep, so it wouldn’t catch him off guard as often as it had when he was a kid, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about her or feel her loss.
“Hey,” Dylan said, poking him in the back, “you don’t need to eat it if you don’t want to. There’s plenty of leftovers or sandwich fixin’s in the fridge.”
Jesse blinked and frowned at his brothers. “Did you try it yet, Tyler?”
“I’m getting to it.”
“It’s even good cold,” Dylan said, grabbing a clean fork, spearing the eggplant, and shoving it toward Jesse.
He took it, stared down at it, then shrugged and grabbed the fork. Bold, spicy flavors danced on his tongue, mingling with cold cheese he couldn’t identify and what he guessed was the innocuous taste of the eggplant. “Not bad.” He grinned. “It’d probably taste better if we nuked it.” Moving out of striking range of Dylan’s long reach, he washed up and dug into the casserole and heaped some on a dish.
With the hot, fragrant plate of cheese-filled eggplant in front of him, Jesse realized that he owed Emily and Ronnie; they’d brought a sense of hearth and home back to the Circle G. The only thing missing was a woman he could call his own.
“Hell,” he mumbled, forking another bite of food into his mouth. “Don’t need one.”
Tyler tossed a hunk of bread at Jesse. “What don’t you need?”
Jesse saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, reached up, snagged the bread with one hand, and stopped the plate of butter Dylan had slid toward him with unerring accuracy. It was good to be part of the family, even if he was feeling a little left out a
s of late.
“Nothing. Hey, Dylan, where’s Ronnie today?” Jesse asked.
“Getting ready to open up for business next week.”
“The shop looks great,” Jesse said. “If I hadn’t seen the damage myself, I never would have believed it.”
Dylan grinned. “It brought the woman I love into my life.”
Tyler chuckled. “And here I thought it was when you tossed your lasso around her.”
“Yeah,” Jesse answered, “and reeled her in!”
Dylan accepted their ribbing good-naturedly. Hell, everything about his brother seemed to be positive and upbeat since he married Ronnie DelVecchio. Go figure.
Turning to Tyler he asked, “Is Emily coming home late tonight?”
The satisfied smile on the oldest brother’s face should have annoyed him, but instead, he was happy for him.
Tyler finally answered, “I’ll be driving into town to pick her up at closing time.”
“What about you, Dylan? Are you driving into town to pick up your wife?” Jesse got a kick out of saying that; she was the first Garahan bride for their generation and kind of cool.
Dylan locked gazes with Tyler, and Jesse knew what his brothers were thinking, planning, and going to be doing a few hours from now. “Damn!”
“Go find your own woman,” Dylan said.
“Maybe I’ve already found one.”
“Really?” Tyler tried to sound disinterested, but Jesse could tell he finally had the attention of both brothers. No small feat.
“Hey, I already told you all about her.”
“The hell you did,” Dylan grumbled. “Wait—was this the damsel you saved this morning riding into town?”
Jesse smiled. “So you were listening.”
“Hell, Jess,” Tyler ground out. “We always hear you. Sometimes we pay attention.”
Dylan leaned back in his chair. “So she’s blonde, curvy, and pretty?”
“’Bout covers it,” Jesse said, “well, except for little Lacy.”
“She has a pet named Lacy?”
Jesse grinned and pushed away from his place, sighing in contentment because the food had been great and filled the hole in his belly. “Nope, a little pink cowgirl. I need one of you to follow me to Sullivan’s so I can drop off her car.”
Jesse Page 4