Stetson

by Danielle Norman

  After lunch I sat in a chair, feeling like a total waste since I couldn’t even continue with the irrigation having no clue how to program the system without her. I picked up a magazine off the coffee table, The Cattlemen Association, and leafed through it while London was back in her office. I’d finished that magazine and had moved onto Progressive Cattleman when London finally stepped out of her office.

  “Any leads for new workers?”

  “A few, we’ll see what pans out.”

  I held open the front door and let London walk out. Bounding down the stairs, we each climbed onto a four wheeler and headed out to resume moving the water wheels.

  London was in front, and when she got around the house, she screamed, and rolled the throttle on the ATV.

  “I thought you said they were on timers.” I raced after her.

  “They are, we set them, you saw me.”

  When we reached a small outbuilding, what I could only assume was the pump house, London jumped off and headed toward the large copper knob. Moving around her, I grabbed one end and started turning until the cascade of water stopped. “When was the last time you checked them to make sure that they were working correctly?”

  “Yesterday when Jack was using the wheels. He would have told me if there had been a problem.”

  But once we got to the irrigation systems, the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end. I felt like someone was watching us, but I didn’t see anyone else around.

  “Fuck!” she shouted.

  “What? We were only inside a few hours, how much damage could it cause?” I was showing my lack of ranch knowledge, but I’d seen rain last longer here.

  “Jack and Ryan laid seed yesterday, and this much water more than likely tore up the top soil and washed all of that away. We are either going to have to wait a few weeks to see if anything starts to grow or reseed.” Walking to the first irrigation system, London leaned down and examined the timer. “Motherfucker.”

  “Is it broken?”

  “No. The timer was turned off, and the gallons per minute were turned up to the maximum. This was deliberate.”

  Yep, and I had a sinking suspicion who had done it. Unfortunately there was no sense trying to get fingerprints off it since it was farm equipment that they all had access to.

  “We need to stop watering for the day. I need to give the soil time to absorb some of this water before I let the cattle out here.”

  I helped London roll up the hoses and pack up the water wheels, all the while trying to figure out how to approach her about the Ryan situation. I didn’t believe for one second that she was with him, but if he thought they were together and was pissed that I was hanging around, well...

  “Hey, so, I have to tell you something.”

  This earned me a suspicious smile, and I guessed I deserved it. Saying that was the equivalent of telling your significant other that you needed to talk. It was the kiss of death.

  “Go on.”

  “Yesterday when I got here, Ryan wasn’t too happy to see me and told me that this was his farm and that you two were together.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  “I wouldn’t joke about something like that.”

  “No, he and I aren’t together, and we have never been together. He has also never owned any part of this farm.” London lifted the tongue of the water wheel’s small trailer and hooked it onto the four wheeler’s hitch.

  “Why would he say that then?”

  “I have no idea, but I’m at the end of my patience with him. I don’t know what to do.”

  “I think that you’re doing it by looking for new people. And until you replace him, you’ll need to keep a closer eye on him whenever he’s around.”

  “I’d already planned on that.”

  “Smart and beautiful.”

  I said it before I could think better of it, and the prettiest flush crept across her cheeks as she climbed onto the four wheeler.

  I thought about the fire and how it wasn’t the main pasture so it didn’t debilitate the farm, just inconvenienced them. Same with the waterwheel, it didn’t ruin the field just delayed it a day.

  “Come on, cowboy, let’s get this back to the house.”

  By the time we got everything unloaded and reached the stable, my sheriff instincts were on full alert. “Who are they?” I pointed to a woman standing with Ryan and one of the other guys who I had seen around here.

  “That’s Wally and his wife Ann.” London started waving as we got closer. “Hi, Ann, how are you? I’m glad to see you.”

  “I’m great! I brought some fresh herbs over for Paris and was just talking to Wally and Ryan before heading home.”

  Her words were casual and light, but her expression seemed a little strained. I looked at Wally, who was fidgeting, and then to Ryan, who was smiling. That douche was up to something. I wasn’t sure what, but I was going to find out.

  7

  London

  Having Braden around after the fire had been nice, but the last few days, he’d been working crazy hours and hadn’t been around much. I was trying to get the ranch back to a normal—well, as normal as it could be with eighty fewer acres. Walking into the barn to get Mim, I froze at the sight of Wally and Ryan. Wally was oiling the saddles, but Ryan was posed as if ready to strike. His legs were spread shoulder-width apart, his hands rested on his hips, and his face was contorted like...mmm, well...he was constipated.

  “Hello, Wally.” His face brightened the moment he saw me.

  “Hey, Ryan, you look uncomfortable. I think we have some castor oil that we use for the horses when they get clogged up if you need some.” I was intending for my brevity to lighten the tension in the barn, but apparently it wasn’t wanted. Both men’s eyes narrowed. “What is y’alls problem? If you two are going to have a pissing match, I suggest that you do it when I’m not paying you. In other words, get over it and get to work.” I scooted past them and opened Mim’s stall.

  When I glanced back, Wally was gone and Ryan was standing there staring at me. “Did you need something?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  “Okay?”

  “London, I have no clue what has gotten into you, but I don’t like the way you are speaking to me. We are a team, and as such, you need to speak to me with respect.”

  Setting Mim’s brush down, I gave Ryan my full attention. “Ryan, we are not a team. I am a team with my sisters. We are employee and employer. I will start speaking to you with respect once you regain some of my respect. You did not act this way when my father was around, and to be honest, I’m not sure how much longer I can continue having this conversation with you. If it wasn’t for your years of service here, I’d already have terminated you for your attitude toward me.”

  “Let me tell you something, London, I stuck around all those years because I was the son your dad always wanted and never had.”

  Ryan’s words pierced me. My dad had never said anything or acted as though he’d missed out on having a boy.

  “Yeah, you think that he was all happy having three girls? Well, he wasn’t. Why do you think he started the stables? He wanted to give you girls something since the ranch was no place for you. Horseback riding and Western riding lessons were more girl-friendly in his book. I was there for him to show the ropes to.”

  “Get out. Go home. Don’t come back until you’ve adjusted your attitude.” But Ryan didn’t move. “Ryan, so help me god, if I have to tell you one more time, you will not have an opportunity to come back. I’d suggest that you go now.”

  Ryan strode out, but it took every ounce of my will power not to smack the ever-loving-shit out of him and knock that damn smirk off his face.

  Once I knew he was gone, I pulled out my phone and sent my sisters a text.

  Me: We need a Kelly meeting.

  Paris: When?

  Holland: How about now, where are you?

  Me: Stables. Need to go for a ride and clear my mind.


  Paris: On my way.

  Holland: Me too.

  Mim was moving around, which made it ten times harder to get her saddle on, she was so in-tune with my emotions, and she could feel my tension.

  “Where’d Ryan go?” Wally asked, looking around as he pulled his hat off. Beads of sweat lined his forehead, and he pulled a worn bandana from his back pocket to wipe them away.

  “I sent him home.” I led Mim out of her stall. “Wally, I don’t know how much longer I can put up with his attitude. For some reason, he has the idea that he runs this place, and no matter how many times I correct him, he won’t listen. I just don’t want to put up with him.”

  “I’ll have a talk with him. He’s young.”

  “He’s older than I am.”

  “Yeah, but you had your dad, and he was a great influence. Ryan hasn’t had anyone since he was seventeen.”

  “He’s had the influence of this family for the past fifteen years. If he hasn’t figured out how things are run by now, then maybe there’s no hope for him.”

  “Oh, London, that’s harsh. There’s always hope.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, kiddo, anything, you know that.”

  “Did my dad ever regret not having a boy?” Wally’s face went blank, and I murmured, “I guess that is a yes.”

  “No, that isn’t what that is. I’m pissed that you’d think that.”

  “Well, Ryan said I needed to treat him better since he was the son my dad always had wanted.”

  Wally shook his head. “Your dad wanted a son for one reason and one reason only, and that was to do the hard labor so he could try to force you girls to pamper yourselves more. But it wasn’t because he actually wanted a son. Hell, once he saw your love for the ranch, he knew that everything was right as rain. That was why he built the stables.”

  “I’m not following you. What do the stables have to do with my love for the ranch? It only took away from our cattle land?”

  “By the time you were sixteen, Samuel knew everything in his life was how it was supposed to be. He had great employees...”

  “Or so he thought.” I couldn’t hold back my barb.

  “You loved the ranch. Paris loved cooking and just being the little momma. And Holland was showing all signs of having a true love for horses. So your dad decided to build the stables for her; although, it belongs to all of you. But this way, each of you have your own domain to control. So, did he want a son? Sure, all guys want a son at first. Did he regret not having a son? Never once.”

  Placing one hand on Wally’s shoulder, I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his sun-weathered cheek. “Thanks. My sisters and I are going for a ride. I sent Ryan home and told him not to come back until he has a change of attitude. Maybe call Jack and ask him to come in this afternoon?”

  “Will do. You three have fun.”

  I followed Wally’s gaze to see my sister Paris’s Jeep coming down the trail.

  “Hey, you two. I got Ursula and Khan tacked up.” They both darted off through the giant wooden doors, and several minutes later, the three of us were kicking up dirt at breakneck speeds across the pasture.

  When we finally slowed to a trot, Paris pulled up next to me, asking, “So what’s up?”

  “It’s Ryan. I sent him home today.” I recounted this morning’s events.

  “You have to work with him more than we do, what’s your gut telling you?” Paris’s calm demeanor and rationale were a balm to my riled nerves.

  “It’s telling me that even after Wally talks to him, it won’t get better.”

  “Then let’s find someone else. Wally can help you until we hire a new ranch hand. I can handle the stables and lessons.”

  “That’s a lot of work, Holland, are you sure?”

  “Positive. It isn’t as if I have anything else to do.” She dismounted from her horse and wrapped his rein on a hook on the tree.

  Paris and I followed suit.

  “So, we’re in agreement? The next time there is an issue with Ryan, he’s gone regardless of the number of years he’s been here?”

  “Yep.” Paris and Holland both nodded.

  “Then do me a favor. Write down everything you can think of—any instances you’ve seen of his insubordination—so we have them on file just in case we need them. I have a feeling he will give us trouble.”

  “You think?”

  I busted up laughing, and then my smile fell slowly. “Ryan told me Dad always wanted a son, and he was that son.” I watched my sisters’ faces as my words sunk in. “He has a serious chip on his shoulder about something, so yes, I think he will cause us problems.”

  “What? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Holland shouted.

  “I asked Wally about it, and he said that Dad never said such a thing. I think Ryan is just grabbing at straws to see how far he can push me.”

  “Sounds like it. So what did you say?”

  “I sent him home.”

  “I’m tired of his crap. I think we should go ahead and fire him. I honestly doubt that his attitude will ever change. He has this hang up about women working, especially on a ranch,” Paris said as she leaned back and made herself comfortable underneath a bushy palm tree.

  “I’m on board. The guy is a dick. But we need to do this the right way,” Holland warned. “He’s become a real pig lately, and his thoughts about women being barefoot and pregnant—”

  I interrupted Holland. “When did he say that?”

  “He didn’t, but he might as well have. You can tell by the way he says certain things. He just doesn’t think we should be running this ranch. I hate his damn attitude. I mean, who the hell does he think he is? He isn’t even related to us, and he thinks he’s part of the family. He has nothing to do with the stables, but he’s always there, introducing himself to the parents of my students. I love Daddy and all, but how the hell did he let a rat like that fool him?”

  “Daddy didn’t know how much of a prick Ryan was. You can’t put that blame on him.”

  “I don’t blame him. I just really miss him.” Holland kicked at the sand under her feet.

  “Barefoot and pregnant...” I thought aloud. “I could seriously see him saying just that.”

  We laughed, and it felt good, and a lot of the tension slipped away as we made our way back to the house.

  When we broke the tree line, there was a black pickup truck sitting next to mine up at the house.

  “I’ll take care of Mim and Ursula, you two go on up.” Holland held Mim’s reins as I dismounted, then she moved and held the reins of Paris’s horse while Paris dismounted. Holland headed to the stables while Paris trailed behind me as I dashed up to the house, excitement bubbling inside me.

  I was excited to see Braden.

  Shit.

  I so needed to curb my excitement.

  Coming up behind him, I admired his ass in tight jeans as he bent over and set a two-by-four into place to make one side of the frame for the garden bed. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  He quickly stood and turned to face me, a smile lighting his entire face. “I told you I’d be here.”

  “I know, but I wouldn’t have blamed you had you not shown. You’ve done so much already, and it is your day off.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I took the night off...” Braden reached forward and swept a stray piece of hair out of my eyes, “with you?”

  “What?”

  “How about you and I go up to Marcus’s for a beer when I’m done here?”

  “Okay? But just for a beer, and as long as we both agree that it isn’t a date.”

  “Fine, not a date. We can do something else if you want to.”

  “No, let’s go. I’d like it. I need a night off.”

  The rest of the day flew by, but I didn’t get much work done. Between watching Braden outside my office window and admiring the way the sweat trickled down his muscular, shirtless chest and Paris constantly going outside, Christ on a cracker, I was
going to have a headache before I even stepped foot into the bar from all the loud slamming of our screen door. But I couldn’t fault her excitement. I just hoped that she thanked Asher, who had worked just as hard as Braden had all day.

  At eight o’clock, I was ready to relax. Braden had his arm around my waist, and I felt strangely possessive as we walked through the parking lot. I couldn’t tell whether he was wearing cologne or if it was just his soap, but whatever it was, it smelled amazing.

  The house band was playing some Brothers Osborne, and I loved the feeling of Braden’s fingers as he picked up the tune and started strumming against my hip.

  “Hey, you two, Yuenglings?” Marcus pulled two bottles up from under the counter and set them on top.

  Braden reached in his pocket to pay, but Marcus refused our money.

  “Give it up, he never lets me pay,” I whispered into Braden’s ear.

  “Hey, Braden, have you ever heard this girl sing?”

  “Umm no, can’t say that I have.”

  “Yo, Derrick, can you play ‘Fancy’ by Reba?”

  The guitarist turned around to his band then gave Marcus the thumbs-up.

  “I hate you, Marcus. No. No.”

  “Oh, come on, London, I want to hear you.” Braden gave me his cocky smile.

  I glanced up and met Marcus’s smirk as he signaled for the band to go ahead and start the beat. “Ugh.” But when the first few notes trilled and the rhythm ran through me, I was five years old again, singing a song at the top of my lungs and having no clue what it meant.

  I hopped up on the stage ready to give the crowd what they were cheering for and was handed the microphone. As I marched front and center, Braden’s eyes followed me, which only made me give my performance a bit more jazz and my hips a little more wiggle.

  When the song was over I had this strange feeling that something between me and Braden had shifted. I didn’t know what to call it, him coming over, us hanging out, whatever. I did know that I was going to be forgiving him because I wanted a repeat of our one night.