A knock sounded on the door. “Coming!” she shouted, thinking Cole was early. Opening the door brought a surprise, and not a pleasant one.
“Good mornin’, Ms. Mackenzie.”A stranger touched the brim of his white Stetson in greeting. She took him in head to toe. The man was short and rotund. He wore a white suit, and his stomach folded over a wide leather belt cutting into a large gold buckle. Several of his fingers were adorned with glittery diamond rings. His boots looked to be crocodile. His face was clean-shaven and his cheeks were pudgy and red, like Santa. A unibrow connected his bushy black eyebrows. They shaded two beady eyes that reminded Jordan of a rat. Before he introduced himself, she had a pretty good idea of who he was.
“I’m Addison Stillwell,” he drawled. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” His thin lips curled into what she sensed was a fake smile.
“I know who you are.” She refrained from shaking his fat hand when he offered it to her. She simply stared at him until his arm swung limply to his side. Her heart jumped like staccato notes, but she was determined not to let him see weakness or smell fear. If Lydia could handle him, so could she. Looking past him, she spied a yellow Cadillac convertible parked in the drive.
“May I come in?” he inquired. “I have important business to talk over with you.” He moved toward the door, but she blocked the doorframe with her body.
“We have no business to discuss, Mr. Stillwell,” she answered, crossing her arms. “Except, perhaps, the little matter of some trespassers on my property last night.” It was a bold accusation, but she wanted to see how he’d react. The man didn’t even pretend to feign surprise.
“Now, now, dear. That was my way of welcoming you to the neighborhood. I take it you would have preferred a basket of muffins.”
Her eyes narrowed into pinpoints. “Don’t call me dear.”
Stillwell’s mouth tightened, and his eyes flashed with irritation. “All right, Ms. Mackenzie. I’ll get directly to the point. I’m prepared to make you a very generous offer for the Lucky Seven.” He pulled a checkbook out of his suit pocket, scratched out a figure, signed his name, and stuck the personal check under her nose. Jordan didn’t bother to look.
“The Lucky Seven is not for sale. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave my ranch now.”
“Not so fast, little lady.” Stillwell gnashed his teeth together—a sound more annoying than fingernails on a chalkboard. “You’ll be making a very big mistake if you don’t at least consider my offer.” Beads of sweat dampened his forehead. “I want this ranch and I intend to have it.”
“I know all about your intentions. I told you, it’s not for sale.” Jordan stood her ground.
“Maybe you don’t know with whom you’re dealing,” he said. “I can make your life very difficult, if I so choose. I could run you off this place.”
She felt oddly empowered by his warning. “That sounds like a threat.”
“Take it however you wish.” The two of them locked eyes and Stillwell grinned. The smile reminded her of a snake about to strike, and it sent shivers spiraling down her spine. “This isn’t your home, Ms. Mackenzie. It’s my understanding you know nothing about horses or ranching, or much of anything to do with country living. Sell the ranch to me and you can return to your single gir’s life in Colorado with a very substantial check in your pocket.”
“You’re wrong about that,” she gritted. “This is my home now. You can purchase any piece of land or ranch you want. Just not this one. Please leave me alone. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Trouble is exactly what you’re going to get, little lady.” His eyes emanated fury. She glanced down to see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“Stop addressing me that way.”
“I want this ranch,” he shouted. “I warn you. You don’t want to make problems like your aunt did. What an old bag she was.”
Although she wanted to slap him, Jordan knew it was essential to maintain her composure. He was like a firecracker about to explode. “I know why you want the Lucky Seven,” she said calmly. “But you can’t have it. It’s not for sale. Period. There’s nothing more to discuss.”
Stillwell’s face reddened. She thought smoke might erupt from his ears. Just then a pickup roared up the driveway and rolled to a halt. Cole jumped out and sauntered up the disintegrating sidewalk with his hands shoved in his pockets. Tension suddenly melted off Jordan’s shoulders when Cole yanked off his sunglasses.
“Mornin’, Jordan. Mornin’, Mr. Stillwell.” A perplexed, but knowing look filled his face.
“Everything okay here, Jordan?”
“It’s none of your concern,” Stillwell replied gruffly.
“Mr. Stillwell was just leaving,” she stated.
“I’d suggest you think about what I said, Ms. Mackenzie,” Stillwell snarled.
“And I’d suggest you get off my property before I call the sheriff.”
The obese man turned on his heel and stalked away in a huff. She and Cole watched him flop into the Cadillac and slam the door. The car groaned under his enormous weight. A moment later, the engine purred and the vehicle sped down the driveway. As the car fled out of sight, Cole turned and raised his palm to give Jordan a high five.
“I guess you told him.”
“Do you see my knees shaking?” she asked.
He glanced at her bare knees. “No. What just happened here?”
“He offered to buy my ranch.”
“It was bound to happen, but he made quick work of it. He was constantly hounding Lydia to sell.”
“He even admitted he sent those two goons from the café over here last night to scare me.”
Cole’s expression darkened. “What do you mean? Who was over here?”
“Those two cowboys. Campbell and the other guy, Cimarron. They knocked over my trash cans and shone a light in my front window. Then I coincidentally received a prank call.”
“How do you know it was Campbell and Cruz?”
“That’s who Brannigan suspects.”
Cole scratched his head, obviously confused. “Wyatt Brannigan?”
“Yes.”
“How did he get involved?”
Still distracted by the exchange with Stillwell, Jordan’s answer didn’t explain much. “He was looking for his dog.”
Cole shook his head. “Okay…whatever. Sounds like you had one crazy first night out here.”
“You can say that again.” She sighed, realizing this day hadn’t started out any better than yesterday ended.
“I suppose Stillwell thought you’d be a push-over,” Cole said.” I reckon it’s ticked him off to find you’re as strong as Lydia.”
She shrugged. Not knowing her aunt, there was no way for her to judge. “I don’t know about that. She must have been one gutsy lady. That man is a bit intimidating. I’ll admit I’m not half as brave as I sounded just now.”
Cole touched her arm. “I’ll bet you’re tougher than you realize. After all, you’ve moved to a new town without knowing a soul, and you’re taking over a ranch by yourself. I’d say that’s pretty courageous.”
Jordan eased away from his touch. It was too early to become so friendly. “I wish I’d known my aunt,” she mused.
“She was a very independent lady, but I always felt bad about her not having any family to celebrate holidays and such with. I’m glad to learn she had you after all, even if she hadn’t seen you in a long time.”
Jordan felt bad, too, though not seeing Lydia hadn’t been of her choosing. Again she wondered why her great aunt had been forced from the family so many years ago. From all accounts, she’d been an honest, moral, hardworking woman. The whole thing was peculiar. She changed the subject, not wanting to get into her family history with Cole. “Would you care for a cup of coffee before we get started?”
“No thanks. I’ve already had two. Let me get my pad and ladder and we’ll begin.”As he jogged back to his truck and pulled the ladder from the bed, Jordan couldn’t help bu
t admire his well-toned physique. The tee shirt he wore showed off his bulging arm muscles, and the man sure could fill out a pair of Levis. She had no intention of pursuing him or any man, but there was no harm in looking.
He returned with a notebook under his arm and propped the ladder against the side of the adobe. Taking a pencil out of his tee shirt pocket, he commented on the broken sidewalk and kicked at the crumbling pieces of concrete. “This needs to be demolished and rebuilt. It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.” Next, he inspected the exterior walls of the house and determined the cracks were not structural. A patch job and repainting would suffice, he said.
“I’ll check the roof now.” He began his ascent. While on top, he scratched more notes onto his pad and then climbed down again. “All done here.”
“Let’s go around back,” Jordan said, leading the way. “By the way, will you be able to give me the name of a good landscaper and tree pruner?” When she turned, she caught him looking at her figure, just as she had with Wyatt. A guilty grin filled his face. But exactly like Wyatt, getting caught staring didn’t seem to faze him.
“Sure. I can subcontract that work out,” he smiled.
In the courtyard, Jordan explained her vision for a backyard oasis. Cole took measurements of the deteriorating block wall. Every once in a while he’d glance over his shoulder and grin at her. She smiled back feeling like a teenager with a crush.
“You can rebuild the wall, can’t you?” she asked, trying to stay on topic.
“Sure. I’ll stucco it to match the house.”
“That’ll be perfect. I’d like a new gate painted blue. That beautiful turquoise color that’s so popular here.” Cole scribbled notes as she talked. “What about this fountain?” She stepped over to it and skimmed it with her hand. “Can it be salvaged? It could be beautiful again.”
“Of course. It can be sandblasted clean.”As his gaze wandered around the property, Jordan could see his mind turning, thinking about possibilities.
“I think it would look real good to cover the ground with sod, and then I’ll put pavers down for the fountain to sit on. I can design a nice pattern. You don’t want a concrete patio, do you? It’ll be better to have your own patch of grass out here. What do you think?”
“Perfect.” She couldn’t help but stare at his glistening white teeth. He was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen.
“Great!” he exclaimed. “I’m ready to go inside.”
During the indoor inspection, they decided to replace the kitchen appliances, modernize the bathroom, and repaint all the rooms. Cole stepped into the hall and stretched out his tape measure.
“There’s plenty of space in this back hallway for me to install a stackable washer and dryer. I notice there aren’t any in the house.”
She figured she’d be hand washing in the sink outdoors and hanging clothes on the line, or going to the local laundromat. The news thrilled her. “I’m so glad you thought of that.”
“That’s why you’re paying me the big bucks,” he joked, “to use my big brain and my big muscles.” He flexed his bicep and they both laughed. Snapping the notebook shut, he said,
“Looks like that’s got it. I’ll get cracking on an estimate and get back with you as soon as I can. Would you like to head into town now? I’d love to show you around.”
“Sure. I’d like that.”
“We can grab some lunch later, too.”
“Okay. Let me get my purse.” She didn’t mind spending a few hours with him. They could talk more about the ranch and Lydia. And it would be nice to have a personal tour guide—especially one so easy on the eyes.
Chapter Six
She was locking up when the phone rang.
“Do you want to get that?” Cole asked.
“No. If it’s important, they’ll call back. I don’t know who would be calling me anyway. No one I know has the house number. My friends call me on my cell.”
They walked to Cole’s truck in silence. He opened the passenger door and held it as she climbed in, which earned him a couple of points. While buckling up, she glanced around the cab. It was neat and more organized than she’d expected for a construction guy. Another large notebook was on the floor, and a jacket and some CD cases lay in the middle of the bench seat. A take-out coffee cup sat in the cup holder, and several packs of gum and some change cluttered another cup holder. Good looking and relatively neat; he was a man after her own heart.
As they passed by the Circle B, Jordan saw Tag sleeping on the front veranda. The horses grazed in the field. All was quiet on the home front, but neither Brannigan nor his truck was to be seen. It was probably a good thing he wasn’t outside. For some reason, she’d feel funny if he saw her with Cole.
At their first stop in town, Ace Hardware, Jordan purchased a water filter and collected paint samples for the walls. Cole pointed out the few businesses on the same street and then they took a driving tour, meandering around Tularosa. He passed by the schools, the new library, and drove her through the historic forty-nine blocks.
“These forty-nine blocks made up the original town site,” he explained. “The district is recorded in the National Register of Historic Places.” He seemed proud of his town and eager to share it with her.
“What does the name Tularosa mean?” she asked.
“In Spanish it translates to rose-colored reeds. Reeds grew along the banks of the Rio Tularosa when the original settlers used the river as a water source. Now it’s barely a stream most of the year.”
When he drove to the edge of town, he stopped the truck and pointed at the large blue mountain looming in the distance. “That’s Sierra Blanca. It’s a sacred mountain to the Mescalero Apache tribe.”
Jordan gasped, remembering the lawyer mentioning the name of the mountain. “I was told that’s where Addison Stillwell’s psychic Indian woman lives.”
“That’s what people say. The tribe owns and operates a resort hotel and ski slopes up there. It’s a popular vacation destination, especially for Texans. Do you ski?”
She shook her head. “I grew up in Denver, but it wouldn’t bother me if I never saw snow again.”
He chuckled. “Then you’ll love it down here in the desert. We rarely get snow, and when we do, it melts quickly.” He put the truck in gear again.
“Cole, do you know where my aunt is buried?”
“Yes, I do. She’s in the Fairview Cemetery in town. I’ll take you there if you’d like.”
“Thanks. I’d like to pay my respects. It’s the least I can do for what she’s done for me.”
~ * ~
It was easy to spot the fresh grave.
“It’s a beautiful spot.” Jordan was pleased to see the stand of trees that edged the property and cast refreshing shade over Lydia’s headstone. They stood at the foot of it. A wreath of mixed summer flowers was propped against the marble headstone. Jordan read aloud the epitaph inscribed on the monument.
“She never met a horse she didn’t like. Lydia R. Albright, born May 1, nineteen twenty-five, died May 5, two thousand nine. That seems appropriate, given what I know about her.”
“Nineteen twenty-five. She’d just turned eighty-four.” Cole repeated what Jordan had already learned about the woman. “She was a spry thing until the very end.”
The two of them offered up a moment of silence as Jordan again pondered why Lydia had left the Lucky Seven to her. “Who do you suppose placed this wreath here?” she wondered, sliding her finger over the slick rock stone. “Did she have friends?”
“Maybe it was some ladies from the church,” Cole offered.
“It was kind…whoever it was. I think I’ll make sure she always has fresh flowers on her grave. It’s the least I can do for the woman who has given me a new start.”
Cole nodded in approval. He didn’t seem curious about her comment about a new start.
“Thanks for bringing me here, Cole. I’m ready to go now.”
As they left the cemetery, he patted his st
omach. “I’m getting hungry. How about going to the café for some lunch? There aren’t too many spots here in town. Or we could drive to Alamogordo if you prefer.” He seemed anxious to please her.
“The café’s fine,” she said. Her stomach quietly growled. The dry cereal earlier that morning hadn’t gone far.
The café was packed when they arrived, but Cole spied one empty booth. He placed his hand at the small of Jordan’s back and guided her toward it as he greeted people along the way. They sat across from each other and opened their menus.
“Popular place,” she noted. The same waitress, Nicki, approached and placed two glasses of water in front of them.
Batting thick eyelashes at Cole, she said, “Hi, you two. I see you’ve become friends.”
Jordan noticed the thinly tweezed eyebrow arch as Nicki slid an inquiring glance between them. She ignored the comment. “It’s crowded today.”
“Sure is. Lonnie needs to hire more help. I’m getting run ragged. How was your first day in Tulie?” she asked.
“Fine, thanks.” Jordan wasn’t about to tell a stranger what had really taken place in the past twenty-four hours. Besides, Nicki didn’t seem all that interested anyway. Her gaze was fastened to Cole. But who would blame her? He was a pleasure to look at.
“Know what you want yet?”
“Could you give us a few minutes, Nicki?” Cole perused the menu, not paying much attention.
“Sure, honey. Be back in a jiffy.”
Jordan nudged his foot under the table and smiled. “That woman likes you.”
“She likes anyone in pants,” he replied casually as he studied the menu options.
“That’s a mean thing to say.”
Cole looked up. His blue eyes were wide. “I didn’t mean to be rude. That’s just the way it is. Everyone knows that about her. She’s not discriminating when it comes to dating.” He went back to skimming the menu.
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