“It’s just amazing to me that they try it. I mean, in this day and age it’s crazy.” Gil scratched his temple.
“And yet sometimes they still get away with it. That’s not going to happen on our watch.” Jarrod strode toward his truck. “All right, I’ll be out there later.”
Gil grinned. “Whatever you say. Got a girl to see?”
Jarrod scowled. “Anyone ever tell you to mind your own business?”
“Anybody ever tell you to chill? I was just fishing and hoping. I’m thinking you’re way overdue on having a date. And I heard there was some interesting tension in the diner on Monday.”
This wouldn’t be the first time Gil had pushed for him to start dating. “You date enough for both of us,” Jarrod muttered. “I’d hate to steal your thunder. And besides, this isn’t a date.” Boy, was that an understatement.
Gil laughed. “Yeah, well, at least I know how to enjoy myself. All work and no play makes a fella boring.”
“Funny, I think I told Bo that same thing last year, and the next thing I know he’s married.”
“See there, could work for you too.”
“Or you,” Jarrod said. “You’re as bad as Bo and Tru. Shouldn’t you be settling down soon? You’re not getting any younger.”
“I told you before, I’m not a family man. You, on the other hand, have family man written all over you. I know you’ve used getting this ranch out of debt as an excuse, but from everything you’ve said things are starting to look better. You’re not going to have that as an excuse soon.”
Jarrod didn’t even bother saying anything else. He knew Gil was just giving him a hard time and trying to get a good-natured rise out of him.
He drove out to the road and then up the gravel drive to Cassidy’s place.
He told himself not to get involved. She’d made herself clear. But he went anyway.
He’d gone over and over all parts of their conversations in his mind, and it boiled down to those tears she’d cried when she saw the peach orchard. There were some intense emotions going on inside of her to have caused that reaction. He knew she would have tried hard not to show those tears to anyone. At least that was how she’d been as a kid.
As he drove up, she was coming out of the barn. There was a yard of “stuff ” lined up like a store. It had rummage sale written all over it.
She was pushing an ancient garden tiller and wore an orange ball cap. Her hair was tamed into a braid that hung over one shoulder. She almost tripped when she saw him.
“Mornin’,” he said, realizing instantly that he’d made another big mistake. He shouldn’t have come. She wasn’t going to appreciate that he’d told his ranch hand to drive over and mow her peach orchard today.
She brought the tiller to a halt beside a pitiful excuse of a push mower. That thing had to be thirty years old. “Do those things work?”
“I’ll find out soon enough. They were in a stall by themselves, so I think Roxie still used them. If they work I won’t have to buy new ones. I’ll be able to keep the grass around the house mowed and cultivate my garden.”
He moved to stand beside her, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to offer to help.
But he could read her thoughts. She didn’t want him there. He bit back the next question, which was to see if she’d found someone to mow, and if not, did she want him to have his man do it. That wouldn’t be a welcome inquiry and he knew it.
“It looks rough, but maybe you’ll get some more life out of it.” That was all he let himself say. “Hey, I need to go, but I came to tell you Jasper has an alternative formulation he uses around organic properties. So you can rest easy. That’s what I’ll have him use on all sides of your land.”
“That’s wonderful. Thank you for changing your plans for me. Getting certified is not an easy task, and I have a lot of things to do for the land and the B and B.”
“I’m glad it worked out. What all do you have to do to get certified?”
“Well, I need to have the land tested. Even if my business is small enough to be exempted, I want to know it’s okay. But I have to have the fire chief come out to okay the house for a bed-and-breakfast because that has to be official. It’s a little nerve-wracking. But I can do it.”
He opened his mouth to tell her not to be nervous, but she kept talking.
“And I hired someone to mow. Just so you know. So no need for you to be worrying about me not being able to handle it on my own.”
The fact that she sounded a little smug about hiring someone grated on his nerves like sandpaper. What was wrong with his help anyway? But he kept that to himself.
“Well, sounds like you have it all taken care of. I better get to work.” He tipped his hat, climbed inside his truck, and drove back down her drive.
When Jarrod reached the end of his drive, he dialed Bill, his ranch hand who did all the ranch’s mowing and dozer work.
“Hey, boss, I’m about two miles away.”
“Yeah, that’s why I called. Change of plans. Mow my pasture between my house and my neighbor’s, but cancel plans to mow the peach orchard. She got it taken care of.”
He hung up and tossed the phone on the dash.
Then he yanked the gear shift into drive and had to fight the urge to goose the gas as he drove off. Cassidy might not have wanted any help from him, but she was going to be completely shocked when she called for the Wishing Springs fire chief.
That made him smile despite the irritation he was feeling. He’d only been trying to be neighborly, after all.
But then, the woman had a right to hire whomever she wanted to mow her orchard, so he just needed to get over it.
Cassidy sank into a chair and let out a weary sigh. Things were starting to shape up. She’d been going through the kitchen all morning and felt certain it and the rest of the house was ready for the fire chief’s inspection. If she could get that out of the way, she’d be one step closer to getting the bed-and-breakfast opened. She found the fire station number and called it. And she waited. In a small town the size of Wishing Springs, it was a volunteer fire department. She heard several clicks, as if the phone number was being transferred. Or forwarded. She was about to hang up when a man answered.
“Hello, Jarrod Monahan.”
Cassidy hesitated. “Um, hey, Jarrod,” she said, confused. “I must have called the wrong number. I’m, um, looking for the fire chief. Sorry to bother you.”
“No bother. I’m the fire chief.”
“You’re the Wishing Springs fire chief?” she said slowly.
His chuckle rumbled over the line. “At your service.”
Cassidy’s ears burned hot at the smile she heard in his voice.
“You didn’t say anything when you were here two days ago.” She heard the sound of cattle mooing loudly in the background.
“You weren’t looking for my help that day.”
Her fingers tightened on the phone. “Fine. Is there a time when you could come take a look at the house and okay it for fire safety?”
“I’m in the middle of tagging calves right now—”
“That’s fine. I’m not really ready yet. I’ll let you know. I was just calling to make the chief aware and make certain there wasn’t going to be a problem when I called in the next few weeks.”
“No problem at all.”
“Good. Great. I’ll let you go then.”
“Have a nice day, Cassidy.”
She could hear the laughter in his voice. “You do the same, Chief,” she gritted out through clenched teeth, fighting not to sound as aggravated as she was feeling at his little surprise.
She had moved out onto the back porch during the call, fighting the urge to hit her head against a post. It seemed she was doomed to have to contend with her neighbor. Feeling a need for some fresh air, she stalked to the edge of the barn.
Jarrod had been on her mind a lot, and now she’d found out he was the fire chief. She’d basically acted like she had the other day, and now the jo
ke was on her. He’d known she was going to have to call him. He was probably laughing his head off right now. She stuffed her hands on her hips and kicked a patch of long grass.
“Hi there.”
Cassidy spun around to find two women about her age staring at her with wide eyes. One was holding a cute toddler. She’d thought she was alone and had missed the car sitting at the side of the house.
“Hi,” she called, striding back toward them.
“We’d just driven up when you came down the steps,” the one holding the little boy said. “You looked like you were in a hurry.”
The gorgeous blonde standing beside her looked vaguely familiar. “We really hate to intrude, but we couldn’t walk away when you truly look like you might need a friend.” She came forward then, long and lanky in her jeans and boots as she held out her hand and smiled. “I’m Maggie Monahan.”
A light went on in Cassidy’s brain. “Maggie Hope.”
“That’s me. And this is Abby. I’m married to Tru and Abs is married to Bo. We thought it would be nice to come meet you since we’re your nearest neighbors. Well, aside from Jarrod being right there and all.”
Abby smiled. “We thought you would want to know there’s more out here than stoic cowboys and cows.”
“I’m about cowboyed up to my eyebrows right now.” Cassidy took a deep breath, trying to tell herself she shouldn’t be mad that Jarrod was the fire chief. She was overreacting to the whole thing. “I’m glad to know there are women around the corner—a Texas corner,” she added quickly to get past the cowboy remark that she probably shouldn’t have made.
Abby bounced the little boy on her hip. “Thought you’d like that. If you need a cup of sugar or an egg or a cup of coffee and some conversation, we are right over there as the crows fly.”
“Or the coyotes yell might be more accurate,” Maggie added.
“True. They were doing some singing last night while I was sitting here on the porch.”
“Brave girl,” Maggie said. “It took me a long time and Tru’s help before I felt comfortable being outside with them carrying on in the woods.”
“I’ve lived here on and off through the years so I got used to their sound,” Cassidy said, walking closer to her visitors. She reached a hand out to the toddler, who was grinning at her.
Abby was studying her intently. “He’ll have you wrapped around his finger if you give him a second.”
Cassidy smiled. “I’m fine with that. He’s adorable. What’s his name?”
“Levi. And thanks. We think so too.”
Maggie nodded. “We didn’t mean to intrude. Just wanted to come welcome you and let you know we’re here if you need anything.”
“Would y’all like to come inside? I warn you the house is a bit of a wreck. I’m sorting through things getting ready for an epic garage sale. Or rummage sale might be a more accurate term for what I’ll be having. That’s what all of that over there is.” She waved toward the barn. “I’m sorting through things in the barn too.”
Maggie looked genuinely excited. “Oh, I love rummage sales. Can we help?”
“Me too. I love to go there every year,” Abby added. “We’d love to help.”
Cassidy was startled by their kindness. “I would love that,” she said just as Levi lunged toward her and she caught him. The cute little boy in her arms and two new friends—the day had just taken a turn for good.
Feeling her spirits lift, she led the way toward the house.
10
On Tuesday Jarrod had risen before dawn, picked up Pops, and driven over to Navasota for a load of horses that had been found in a bad situation. They were nearly starved and needed a new place to call home. He’d been participating in the rescue program for horses for some time. He would never understand a person who could intentionally be cruel to people or animals. He had no tolerance for it. And though there was little he could do to change the world or cruel people, he could change the lives of these horses.
When Bo married Abby, they chose to remain in Pops’s house so they could watch out for him. But he was still independent to some extent. He was an early riser, too, and when Jarrod went over to see if he wanted to go along today, he’d been excited.
Pops rode in the truck sitting straight and studying the landscape. Jarrod wondered if he was remembering the years spent hauling his cutting horses all over the country to competitions and exhibitions. It was similar to the way Tru lived now, but Pops had had more downtime than Tru. There had been fewer sponsor requirements and more time training on the ranch and for regular ranching.
“Sad shame,” Pops said after they arrived at the auction barn and picked up the malnourished horses. He swept his straw Stetson from his head and ran an aging hand over his graying hair, worry filling his gaze as he studied the animals. Pops knew horses. Loved horses. And even now with his mind fading, he understood these horses had been mistreated. “Somebody needs a horsewhippin’,” he said.
Jarrod grinned. “I agree completely, Pops.” He placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you and me, we’ll get them healthy again. You’ll help me, won’t you?”
Pops nodded, then scrubbed his jaw as he studied the horses. “We’ll fix ’em. Get ’em ready.” He pointed at one in the background. It held back from most of them and seemed wary as it watched them. “That’s a good ’un.”
Jarrod studied the horse too. It wasn’t real big, but it had good lines. Jarrod had little hope that it would be registered, and even if it was, he doubted he’d ever see the papers. There was only a small chance of getting them, if they could trace them from the owner’s documentation. But that was a long shot. Still, Jarrod knew “That’s a good ’un” used to be gold if Pops said it. And even now, Jarrod knew enough to know that he’d be taking a good look at that little pony himself as they brought it back to good health.
A few days after her “talk” with Jarrod, and still miffed at the man over his little joke, Cassidy drove her truck from the house, across the creek, and up the hill to the orchard. She’d spent a lot of time online, and she’d learned that her aunt had known exactly what she was doing when she’d planted the orchard on this acre of land. Yes, it was small, but the drainage, the sunshine, and she had no doubt the soil were all perfect for growing peaches.
Feeling purpose in her heart, Cassidy got out of the truck and, knowing more about the care and development of an orchard now, went to view her trees with a new enthusiasm. Yes, because the trees had been neglected for six years, she would more than likely have a reduced crop this year. But next year? With the correct care and the addition of her strawberry crop, Cassidy would be in business. Maybe a small business, but it had potential.
Nothing could measure what the sense of hope and accomplishment for next year could mean for her emotionally and mentally.
Based on what Cassidy had just learned, she knew Roxie had pruned the trees well in their early years. They’d need some additional pruning to get them into their best shape again, but the early years of cultivation would pay off. Cassidy walked between the well-placed trees on freshly mowed grass. Her heart raced as she took in the number of ripening fruit. If she was lucky, this crop would be at its best in July, and there looked to be two different types of trees. She’d have to research and go through Roxie’s papers to find out what they were, but if everything else panned out like she was thinking, then Roxie planted trees that would mature at different times, making the harvest last longer and spreading out the season.
Roxie Starr had been one smart cookie.
Standing in the orchard, Cassidy breathed in the scent of newness. She plucked a small, hard peach from a low branch and cupped it in her hand. This was how she’d felt for the last three years of her life. For the last eight years . . . for most of her years. As if she’d had no room or time to fully ripen. She had let her life be pulled and pushed in all directions, and until the day she’d realized her life had truly and completely fallen apart, she hadn’t felt any hope t
hat she could build a new life.
And that sounded weak. Cassidy had never looked at herself as weak. Maybe uncertain.
She gently rubbed the green pod in her palm, lifted her gaze to the trees, then headed back to the truck. She grabbed the hoe and planned to spend the rest of the morning working the grass out from around the tree trunks. She wanted them to look well taken care of, and that meant that, once again, she’d have to find someone to help or she’d have to bring a ladder out here. She was so caught up in what she was about to do that she barely registered the whine at first.
The second time the soft, low whimper came, Cassidy stopped pulling on a clump of grass and looked around, searching for what was making the sound.
Near the fence on the other side, on what would be Four of Hearts Ranch land, she spotted a tail curling out from the bush. A dog?
Not at all certain she should be doing this, Cassidy moved toward the fence for a better look. The bush moved slightly and the tail flopped once, weakly. And the whimper came again, once more soft and low.
Cassidy didn’t hesitate again. Instead, she bent low, grabbed the barbed wire, and climbed through. She moved cautiously to the bush, and there lying very still was a scruffy, speckled dog. Caked blood on its side told her it had been like this for a while. The poor animal looked at her with weary, listless eyes.
Her heart clutched and she crouched down. “You poor dear.” Fear was gone because this pitiful dog could barely hold its eyes open, much less do her any harm. Sympathy had her reaching a gentle hand to run over the matted hair, and then without another thought she jogged back to the fence, darted between the wire, and raced to her truck. In seconds she had it backed up to the fence with the tailgate down. After moving everything in the bed out of the way, she hopped to the ground and hurried to the dog. Cassidy needed to get this pup to the vet, and quick.
Without thinking twice she eased her arms beneath the suffering animal and lifted it from beneath the thorny bush. Thorns ripped at her skin, but she ignored the sting and rose to her feet. The dog wasn’t small, but it weighed far less than it should.
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