The Last Cowboy

by Pat Dale

  The Last Cowboy

  Previously published as Last Cowboy in Texas

  By

  Pat Dale and Nancy M Bell

  Digital ISBNs

  EPUB 9781772990454

  Mobi/Kindle 9781772995404

  Web/PDF 9781772990478

  Print ISBN 9781772990485

  Amazon Print 9781772995411

  Copyright 2016 Nancy M Bell and Pat Dale

  Cover Art by Michelle Lee 2016

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book

  Chapter One

  Samantha Turner parked in front of Troy Robert’s real estate office. With an exasperated sigh she shoved the car into park and killed the engine. What was Dad thinking sending her to talk about the advertising requirements for the coming month? It wasn’t like he didn’t know her opinion of Troy. The man was insufferable, and his attitude toward women set her teeth on edge and made her blood boil.

  “C’mon, Sam. Just bite the bullet and get it over with,” she muttered. She gathered up the folder of mock up ads and exited the vehicle. The light breeze tossed strands of hair into her face and she paused to tuck them back behind her ear. A nervous hand smoothed the linen skirt over her hips before she forced a bright smile on face and went to beard the lion in his den.

  “Hey, Julie. I’m here to see Troy about next month’s ads. He should be expecting me,” she greeted the pretty young woman at the reception desk.

  “Hi, Sam. Nice to see you, your dad usually comes by with the ad copy. This is a nice change.”

  “Not for me.” Sam grimaced. “For some reason known only to him, Dad decided I needed to come. Who knows?” She shrugged. “Is Troy in?” She peered toward the back office. No doubt he was having a late lunch and entertaining some sweet young thing if the town gossips of Flanders, Missouri were to be believed. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. She grinned.

  “Samantha Turner here to see you,” Julie spoke into the headphone perched in her blonde hair. She listened for a moment and grinned. “He’ll see you in a minute, something he needs to clear up.”

  “A little afternoon delight? Gotta sneak someone out the backway?” Sam gritted her teeth and wondered why the thought bothered her so much.

  “No hardly.” Julie laughed. “He’s working on some big secret project. All on the down low. I have no idea what he’s up to, even.”

  “Hmmph.” Sam plopped down in the big leather chair in the front window of the small front office. “Big project, I bet.”

  Julie gave her a strange look just as the phone buzzed. “You can on in now.”

  “Thanks.” Sam collected her papers and got up. She walked down the short hall with no little reluctance. She paused outside the half closed door and smoothed her hair. Taking a deep breath she rapped and pushed the door open. Troy Roberts was just as handsome as ever, and just as infuriatingly male as well.

  “Have a seat.” He waved vaguely in the direction of the chair in front of his desk while shuffling through a sheaf of papers on his desk. Finally, he looked up when she slapped a folder of ad proofs on the corner of the polished surface. “Hello Samantha. I wasn’t expecting to see you, Ozzie usually drops by with the stuff.”

  “Looks like you’re stuck with me this week.” Her smile was more a grimace. She flipped the folder open and shoved it toward him. A few of the papers Troy had been working on fluttered to the floor and Sam bent to retrieve them. Her head smacked hard into the dark haired man who had dived for the wayward sheets at the same time. “Ow! What the hell is wrong with you?” She straightened up and rubbed her forehead.

  “Nothing. Sorry.” Troy shoved the papers into a fat folder and then put that into a desk drawer. “Let’s take a look at what Ozzie’s come up with this week.”

  “Actually, I did the layouts, not Dad. But never mind that right now. What’s so all fired top secret that you nearly kill me just to keep me from even touching those papers? Some clandestine less than legal real estate dealings? Money laundering? C’mon, Roberts. Spill.” Sam glared at him through narrowed eyes.

  He flushed and ran a finger inside the collar of his shirt. A sure sign he was trying to avoid the truth. “Why do you always think the worst of me, woman? It’s just a run of the mill real estate deal. That’s it.”

  “Sure it is,” Sam jeered softly. “Like I can’t tell when you’re lying. A skill I should have developed in high school, would have saved me a lot of embarrassment back then.”

  “Are you never going to let that go? I never lied to you back then. There was nothing between me and Rosemary—”

  “Like hell!” The words exploded from her before she could stop them. “I saw you, Troy. My date—at the senior prom—wrapped around her out by parking lot. What an idiot I was, making excuses for you. Worrying something was wrong when you disappeared…” She shook her head.

  “It wasn’t like that. I’ve tried to explain it to you a hundred times but you just want to believe the worst of me.”

  “And Rosemary yapping all over town the next day about how you ditched me for her, and you guys were an item now. What a stupid trusting fool I was, that was all nothing?”

  “Samantha, it was years ago. I have no control over what Rosemary said, then or now.” Troy sighed and leaned back in his chair.

  “I find that hard to believe when the two of you were thick as thieves all that summer. People were expecting you to announce the engagement any day.” Her voice thickened with emotion and she cursed herself for letting it show.

  “What did you expect me to do? You wouldn’t even talk to me, answer my phone calls, you slammed the door in my face more than once. And Rosemary, well Rosemary was right there and willing to—”

  “Willing to what? Go on, Troy. Willing to what?” Sam snapped.

  “You know what, Sam. This is ancient history. Now either show me those damned proofs or get the hell out.”

  She picked up the folder and threw it at him, the papers showering over the carpet as the folder slid right across the desk and off the far side. “Take and look and call Dad with any changes.” Sam stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind her with a satisfying crash that brought Julie running from the reception desk.

  “Oops. Just another amicable meeting between Turner and Roberts I see.”

  “Yup. See ya later, Julie.” Sam continued out the door and across the street to her car. She paused as she opened the door her reporter’s senses tingling. What was so hush hush that Troy was working on? Had to be something big that he thought wouldn’t be too popular with the good folk of Flanders or he wouldn’t have been so quick to try and keep her from seeing the papers.

  “Hmmm, what are you up to, Mr. Roberts?” She leaned on the open door and gazed at the Happy Estates real estate office across the street in speculation.

  A vision of Troy, the sun picking up high lights in his dark hair, flashed unbidden across her inner eye. A sigh escaped her lips. Why couldn’t things be as simple as they were in high school. Well, not simple really. More like magical. Her, Samantha Turner, book worm and all round nerd, dating Troy Roberts. Mr. Handsome and most likely to succeed. A warm glow heated the pit of her stomach as memories of steaming up the back of his dad’s car out by the lake replayed in her mind.

  “Hey, Sam!” Mrs. Harvey called from across the street breaking her reverie.

  “’Lo, Mrs. Harvey,” she called back. Shaking her head Sam slid into her car. “Remember what happened at prom, idio
t,” she reminded herself. “From now on Dad can take ad copy to him. The less I have to do with Troy Roberts the better.

  * * *

  Troy glanced at Sam’s retreating back as he gathered up the scattered papers from the floor. The twitch of her backside beneath her slim fitting skirt mesmerized him until the door slammed shut behind her. Damn! Pig headed woman. Why couldn’t she let go of what happened at the stupid senior prom years ago? If she’d just listen to his side… Troy let the thought go. He shook his head to rid it of the memory of sliding his hands over those enticing curves of hers. Samantha Turner had only improved with age, that was for sure. Sheaf of papers in hand, he straightened up and returned to his desk. It took a few moments to separate the ad copy from the papers for his block buster real estate deal. Thank God Sam didn’t get a look at them or the details would be splashed all over the front page of the Flanders paper. Just what he didn’t need at this point in the delicate negotiations.

  He set the mock up ads to the side and turned his attention to the real estate deal. The contract was covered with scribbled notes and crossed out clauses. The whole messed kept blurring into the image of Sam’s butt just before the door slammed shut. “Damn it! Julie, is there any fresh coffee?” He raised his voice on the last phrase.

  The door opened and Julie stuck her head inside. “Just made a fresh pot. I’ll bring you a cup, right away. She got to you again, didn’t she, boss?”

  “Who?” he asked trying to look innocent.

  “You know who I mean. Sam.”

  “Does it show that much?”

  “Yep. She’s grown up to be a tough woman. Nothing like she was in school, that’s for sure.”

  “I think I liked her younger self much better,” Troy mused.

  “Certainly seemed like you two were thicker than thieves back then. Now you’re more like oil and water.” She chuckled as she left to get his coffee.

  “Or fire and oil,” he muttered. The woman still ignited heat in his belly whenever he came into contact with her.

  His relationship with Samantha in high school still insinuated itself into his dreams. They’d never gone quite all the way but he’d looked forward to the day when they would. He’d planned that around the senior prom, but then Rosemary Silcox threw a monkey wrench into his plans. He’d waited around until Sam came back after college, but she made it perfectly clear from the get-go, she wasn’t interested in him. any more. To hide his wounded pride and injured heart, Troy set out to create the impression he was quite the stud. He dated a few women in Flanders and then dropped hints and bits of gossip where he knew they travel fast about painting the town red in Brandon with a plethora of beautiful women and country singers.

  If I could only stop those stupid dreams... Oh, well. Fantasies are harmless and there’s no chance of anything happening for real. If I could just move on with my life…

  “Here ya go, boss.” Julie set coffee on the corner of his desk and left him to it.

  “Thanks, Jules.” Absently, he reached for the mug while frowning at his paper strewn desk. He’d been about to make an important call when Samantha arrived. Now that he’d calmed a bit, he dialed his client.

  * * *

  Samantha indicated and pulled out the parking spot at the side of Main Street. There was a ton of work waiting for her back at the newspaper, but the thought of it was as appealing as dunking herself in the river in January. She dialed her best friend Melissa Coward’s number. “Missy? Hey, are you free for coffee? I need a break, I just met with Troy about next week’s ad copy. He’s such a jerk!”

  “What did he do this time?” Missy laughed. “I thought Ozzie took care of that account.”

  “He asked me to do the layout and then said since it was my creation I should be the one to present them. Wily old man has something up his sleeve. He went fishing with Troy’s dad last night, the pair of them must have cooked up a scheme between them.”

  “Maybe they remember how you two were in school. You know, everyone thought it was only a matter of time until there was a wedding announcement.”

  A spur of electric tension coursed her body. “Don’t remind me! I looked like a bloody fool after what he did at prom. I couldn’t wait to leave for college after that.”

  “I know, Sam. But maybe you should have let him try and explain,” Missy said. “You wouldn’t even look at him after that, remember?”

  “I saw what I saw. No explanation needed.” She snarled the words. “Sorry, Missy. I shouldn’t take it out on you. Besides, it’s all water under the bridge now.”

  “It’s okay. Where do you want to meet for coffee?”

  “The diner?”

  Missy giggled. “Sure, see you in a few.”

  Sam scrunched down in her seat as she drove by the Herald office. With any luck he wouldn’t see her and flag her down to run some other asinine errand. The man was always going on about the son he never had, the one he’d hoped would take over the paper. Like Sam was collateral damage or something. Dad never seemed to realize that every time he said those things she felt like she was never going to be good enough to please him.

  I do my best to be the son he always wanted but he never seems to notice.

  * * *

  Troy accelerated down the winding road from Flanders to Reeds Spring enjoying the way the red sports car hugged the curves. He was hot on the trail of another sweet land deal. Since musicians and entertainers had chosen to turn Branson into a national phenomenon, land values in the area skyrocketed.

  When his father retired and left him in charge of the real estate business in the sleepy little town of Flanders, Missouri, Troy was determined to put the company on the map. Branson’s new found popularity gave him the perfect opportunity to take advantage of the possibilities opening up. He knew in his gut he could make a killing selling exclusive private properties hidden away in the wooded hills just outside of the big city. His hunch had proved right and now the big names in country music were lining up to purchase their own secluded hideaways. Troy was more than happy to oblige them.

  Troy grinned. He was on his way to seal the deal on a two thousand acre parcel of pristine Ozark woods and hills. Successful country singer, Jason Tawdry contacted Happy Estates looking for the perfect place to build a hidden mansion. Troy had scoured the area and called in a few favours. There were still large tracts that could be had for a very reasonable price, but he had to act fast. Word was spreading fast and land values were set to skyrocket. He hoped to close the deal today if luck was with him.

  The two thousand acres was selling for a tenth of projected value; a thirtieth of what he’d sell the five-acre parcels for. There was some competition and if he didn’t get things finalized today, it was likely the price would double or triple in the next few days.

  There was one possible problem with the site. He’d heard a rumour that some environmentalists were concerned about the proximity of the proposed development to the nearby conservation area. Troy gritted his teeth. No tree huggers were going to stand in the way of progress, not to mention a healthy boost to his bank account. He had a plan already to deal with them. “Bring it on,” he muttered and accelerated around another sharp bend.

  * * *

  “Sam, I need you to go over to Reeds Spring. There’s a lady at the motel there that has a story.”

  She raised her gaze from the editorial she was working on for this week’s edition and frowned at her father. “What? Was someone murdered?”

  “No, but you’d think so from the way this gal’s carrying on. Just see if she’s got anything newsworthy.”

  “Okay. You mind if I finish my editorial first?”

  “I figured you’d rather drive that road in daylight.”

  He was right. “Well, I suppose I can finish this tomorrow. What’s her name?”

  “Rose Ingersoll. At least she says it is. Unit eleven.”

  Sam closed the file she was working on and shoved the chair back from the desk with a sigh. Great, she’d
have to finish it when she got back from talking to some crazy lady. At least this Rose wasn’t Rosemary Silcox. Is it really fair to dislike the woman before I even meet her just because of her first name?

  “Bye, Dad. Let Mom know I might be late for dinner.” She waved a hand toward where Ozzie leaned on the front counter gossiping with one of his cronies. At least it was a nice day for a drive. The sun was bright and the trees overhanging the road threw shady patterns on the road as Sam pushed the car as fast as she dared on the winding road. Wind whipped through her hair and she grinned. Maybe this was better than staring at the computer screen in her tiny office. “Reed Springs, look out ‘cause here I come.”

  It was four when she pulled up at the Quiet Springs Motel. The place was just an office and a dozen ramshackle cabins, a left over from the early twentieth century.

  A woman with fiery red hair opened the door of number eleven when she knocked. “Are you Rose Ingersoll?” Sam flashed her press pass.

  “Yes. You must be the reporter from the Flanders Herald.” The woman looked at her with a peculiar expression on her face.

  “Right. I’m Samantha Turner.” The look of amusement on the woman’s face puzzled her but she didn’t stop to analyze it.

  “I spoke with your father earlier. Did he explain the issue I want to make people aware of?”

  “Dad said you had a story but didn’t give me any details. What’s the lowdown?” Hot to discover what the hell it was the woman wanted and get home before dark Sam ignored the niggling feeling that something was off about the red haired woman.

  “Before we start, please call me Rose. I’m an environmentalist. My federation sent me to appraise the situation and report on the rumours of the sale of two thousand acres adjacent to the Drury-Mincy Conservation Area. I understand there’s been development permits applied for that parcel of land. As you may or may not know those hills are full of rare plant species as well as home to quite a few animals and amphibians on the endangered species list, Blandings Turtle, the Eastern Spotted Skunk and Peregrine Falcons to name a few. The list of endangered plants includes lindera mellisifolia more commonly known as Pondberry, Asclepias meadii which you probably know as Mead’s Milkweed…”