Lost in Cottonwood Canyon & How to Train a Cowboy--Lost in Cottonwood Canyon

by RaeAnne Thayne

  “September now? I thought it was going to be May.”

  “September.” Exasperation made her ditch her opening line. “Gus, I’m trying to ask you something.”

  “Shoot.”

  She looked at the man who’d hoisted her onto her first pony and felt a very real affection for him. Everything was going to be okay. “You know I always wanted to be you when I grew up, right?”

  “You’ll never be as pretty as me, but you might have even more horse sense than I do. You and Trey, the both of you, ever since you were itty-bitty.”

  Emily smiled patiently. Trey was long gone from the ranch, having nothing to do with it as an adult, but she supposed Gus had fond memories of their childhoods. The only thing she’d seen Trey ride when he came back for the wedding was an ATV—although he’d used that to save Rebecca from freezing to death in an ice storm, so she had to give Trey major kudos for saving a life.

  “Thanks, Gus. You’ve taught me horses and more. I’m here because I want to keep learning about ranch management from you.”

  Gus stood up from his desk and looked around his office as if she’d asked him for a stapler or something and he was ready to hand it to her. “What do you need to know?”

  “Nothing specific. I mean I’m ready to work here year-round now. College really is over, and I want to work for the man who’ll always be prettier than me. I was in the kitchen with Uncle James and Luke last month when they decided to hire another ranch hand. I can save you the time and trouble of putting out an ad. You won’t waste time interviewing slackers. I’d like the job.”

  “What job? Ranch hand?”

  “That’s me.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

  Emily held on to her pleasant expression, but Gus wasn’t looking so friendly. He got serious, fast.

  “You should know better than to ask me, young lady. You should know better.”

  * * *

  Graham didn’t run to the barn, but he came close. He walked in the open door at a good clip, temporarily blinded in the relative darkness after the bright Texas sun. Left to right, check the—

  Screw it. The stalls would be impossible for one man to clear.

  Not clear. He went to get Emily, anyway.

  His rubber-soled boots made no noise on the concrete, and the door to Gus’s office was open, so he became an accidental eavesdropper, stopping when he heard Emily’s voice.

  “The timing is great. Luke needs the help, you need the help.”

  “Now, all that might be true, but—”

  “There’s no might about it, Gus. I can do anything you need. You know I can, but I’m not asking for the high end of the pay scale. The starter will be enough for the first contract. I need the room more than the pay.”

  “Room? Room? You aren’t expecting me to put you in that bunkhouse with a bunch of men.”

  Graham felt the pause. He walked to the door and saw Emily’s back as she faced Gus over the desk. The set of her shoulders was familiar. She was about to set the record straight. He almost smiled.

  “Actually, I am. I’m expecting you to put me in that bunkhouse as a ranch hand with other ranch hands. It’s part of the standard compensation. It’s got nothing to do with women or men. Besides, I wouldn’t be the first woman you’ve hired who goes to live in that bunkhouse.”

  “The last one we hired ended up getting married.”

  “Which is not against the law. Refusing to hire someone just because she’s female is.” But Emily stopped there. Her tone softened. “C’mon, Gus, it was a nice wedding. Shelley and Steve make a great team, or you wouldn’t still be hiring them to get the cattle to auction every year.”

  “Your mama has higher expectations for you than living in an RV with some two-bit itinerate cowboy.”

  “Ouch. Poor Steve.”

  Graham smiled to himself. Way to go, Emily. She was using humor instead of getting sucked into an argument.

  Gus continued to expound on all the reasons the bunkhouse was unsuitable, from the beer-stained furniture to the vulgar language she might hear, none of it, in Gus’s opinion, fit for a lady. Graham didn’t think Gus was doing it on purpose, but he was derailing the conversation, sending it off on a sidetrack when Emily had come to be hired for her ranching skills.

  Emily slid her hands into her back pockets. “I know you mean well, Gus, but I’m not the helpless kind of female.”

  “I know that.”

  “I don’t think you do.” She paused, and Graham wondered if she’d just remembered telling him the same thing on the side of the road. “I’ve been around cowboys my whole life. I know what to expect. I surely don’t need some kind of extra-fine lady sofa to sit on. This notion of chivalry actually can hurt more than help. If you kept me out of the bunkhouse for my own good, it would leave me homeless, which is worse.”

  “Why would you ever be homeless? What does your mama have to say about all this?”

  “I’m twenty-two. You don’t need my mother’s permission to hire me, and I don’t need her permission to ask for the job.”

  “Emily Dawn—”

  “But since you’ve known her a long time, let me tell you what’s going on there. I promised her I’d get a bachelor’s degree and I’m keeping that promise. In order to do that, I need a job, so I can afford that last class. I’ve got to get a job, Gus, and there is nowhere else I’d rather work.”

  She shoots; she scores. Graham was proud of her. Impressed with her. Hell, he was ready to hire her.

  Gus wasn’t. “You’re already free to work here as much as you like. You always do, every break you get from school.”

  “Yes, but I don’t get paid for my work. I need the salary. I need the room. You’ll get your money’s worth out of me, and you know that.”

  “I won’t ever hire you, young lady. You’re not a ranch hand, you’ll never be a ranch hand and you should know that.”

  Emily was silent. She stayed just as she was, shoulders back, confident, but Graham could practically hear her hope bursting. She’d been so certain that if a plan was reasonable, it would work. He’d tried to temper her expectations. He’d warned her to remember both possible outcomes: either it would work, or it wouldn’t.

  She wasn’t ready for the wouldn’t. He could see Gus’s face beyond her, and a more stubborn expression on a man’s face couldn’t exist. The answer was no, fair or not.

  His uncle had seen him outside the door, of course. He motioned him in now. “I’ve already hired the new ranch hand. Emily, let me introduce you to Benjamin Graham.”

  He saw her little jump at the name. She whirled around to face him, and for a second, for one precious second, her eyes lit up with joy at the sight of him. Then the implications came crashing through her. Every emotion passed over that expressive, beautiful face, until she settled on being…horrified.

  “You—you took my job?”

  “Emily.” But he could only greet her without revealing their relationship.

  “What are you doing here?” She was baffled. She turned back to Gus. Turned back to Graham. “You’re supposed to be out in the middle of nowhere. This isn’t nowhere.”

  “I know that now.” He wondered if she realized she’d just revealed that they’d already met and discussed where he was supposed to be.

  “What have you done, Graham?” The despair, the betrayal in her voice tore at him. “You heard me say the job hadn’t been advertised yet, so you came here first? You decided to beat me to it? That is so low.”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  But she’d turned to Gus. “And you hired him? Over me?” Her horror gave way to fury. “He knows nothing about ranching. Nothing. He’s from Chicago. I’m the cowboy you’ve trained for how long? Fifteen years? And you chose him over me?”

&
nbsp; Now Gus was the one in shock, clearly wondering how Emily knew anything about Graham.

  Emily made no allowance for Gus’s shock. “I mean, the bunkhouse—you can’t be so old-fashioned that you think it’s more important to be a man than to actually be a cowboy. Just being a man doesn’t make him better than me. Not when you know how good I am at the job.”

  “Emily, I’m sorry,” Graham began.

  She threw her hand in his direction in disgust, a hand that shook with emotion as much as it ever had from freezing lake water. “You’ve never even ridden a horse, and you got my job.”

  The cat was out of the bag now. They knew one another, no pretending otherwise, so Graham wasn’t going to stand still and watch her go through so many terrible emotions. She looked pale, frail, cold. He crossed the distance between them and put his hand on her waist, as if he were going to get her out of a bad situation.

  Her first instinct was to trust him. She grabbed him, a fistful of shirt, and steadied herself. But after one breath, she pushed away, palm flat against his body.

  “Don’t—” she said in a whisper. “Just don’t.”

  She stood taller. Lifted her chin. Leveled a look on Gus and spoke stiffly. “I’ll never be a ranch hand, you said. I know you’re wrong. All I want is to be a rancher, so I’ll need to find work elsewhere, but I’ll need a reference. You could vouch for my horse sense. My experience on cattle drives. Running the baler. Can I rely on you for that much?”

  Gus’s brow knit in consternation. “First of all, young lady, I didn’t hire Benjamin just because he’s male. He’s a veteran, and he’s strong and he’s smart. I don’t appreciate you thinking I’d put someone on the James Hill who was useless.”

  “But I am your nephew,” Graham said, watching Emily to see if she’d figured that out yet, although Gus’s last name was Montano. “I appreciate you giving me the opportunity, but I wouldn’t have gotten it if I wasn’t your nephew.”

  “Ranches are all about family.” Gus leaned forward, knuckles on his desk, white with pressure as he stayed intent on Emily. “Family, did you hear me? There is one reason I’ll never hire you, and it isn’t because of your skills or even because you’re a young girl. It’s because you’re family, and not just any family. You belong to the family that owns this land. I know our great country is supposed to be built on all men being created equal, but it ain’t that way in cattle country. Men that own their own grass outrank men that gotta buy their hay. Cattlemen outrank foremen like me. The foreman outranks the ranch hands.” He threw Graham a look. “The hands outrank the greenhorn, and so on. Miss Emily—do you remember how I always called you Miss Emily? Miss Emily should know that I’m not going to take a Waterson and make her a ranch hand on her own gosh-danged-blessed land.”

  Emily stared Gus down. “I’m not a Waterson.”

  “You’re James and Jessie Waterson’s niece. You’re the closest thing to a sister that Luke and Trey have. I don’t appreciate you expecting me to treat you like you’re some ranch hand looking for starter pay and a room. You’re crazier than a bull-bat if you think I’m going to put Luke Waterson’s sister in the bunkhouse for him to find when he gets back.”

  Graham understood, as he had while listening to Emily last night, that he didn’t know enough about her family or about ranching to be able to advise anyone in this situation. But his uncle was squaring off with the woman who had his heart, the two of them bristling like a couple of wolves about to go at it, so Graham needed to defuse the situation. Immediately.

  Emily didn’t want any softness from him. Since he was a little behind her, he could gesture impatiently at his uncle without her seeing it. Sit down, back off. Graham hooked his foot around the leg of a straight chair and kicked it closer to the desk, the least tender way he could possibly offer Emily a seat.

  It worked. Once Gus sat, she sat. There was nowhere for Graham to sit, but that was fine. He crossed his arms over his chest and stayed beside her. I’m on your side. Even though he’d taken her job.

  She glanced up at him and did a little double take. “I don’t need a bodyguard. I’ll take Gus out if he takes a swing at me.”

  Gus snorted. “Only because I’ve got forty years on you. If I were forty years younger…” He trailed off and looked at Graham. “Well, if I were forty years younger, I’d be him. And when I was young, if I met a pretty spitfire like yourself, the last thing on my mind would be fighting. I’d—I’d…” He looked from Graham to Emily and back. “Never mind what I’d do. How do you two know each other?”

  Neither of them spoke for a moment too long.

  Emily went with the truth. “He was at Keller’s last night.”

  “Keller’s? Heard there was a fight. They called police out and it was a mess all ways to Sunday.”

  “We waited it out on the patio,” Graham said. It was true enough. “We had a lot of time to talk.” Also true.

  “We talked about this job,” Emily added, “but he never said his uncle’s name was Gus.”

  She said it through clenched teeth. Since the subject was serving the purpose of distracting her and Gus from tearing each other’s throats out—and since Graham had his own grievance—he stated his case, too. “You said your family owned twenty dairy cows.”

  Gus snorted at that.

  “I did not.”

  “Did so.”

  “Did not.” She pressed her lips together when she realized where that was going. “I said we had twenty dairy cows when we lived in San Antonio. That was the smallest, tiniest bit of ranching in my life, but it was still ranching.”

  Gus snorted at that, too, but he seemed satisfied with how they knew one another, because he sat forward with his hands clasped together on the desk. He no longer had white knuckles and that angry stare.

  Mission accomplished.

  Emily sat back in her chair and crossed her arms like Graham as she picked up her gauntlet once more. “Okay. Let’s say you’re right. I’m not greenhorn. I’m way too knowledgeable about this ranch to ever be a greenhorn.”

  I hear you. Don’t rub it in.

  “Luke wants Trey and Uncle James to step up. You hired Graham here for Uncle James, but what about Trey? He’s supposed to hire someone, too, since he’s never around, but hiring two greenhorns isn’t really going to do the trick, is it?

  “It seems to me that you and Luke and even Uncle James seem to have some kind of superstition about family being on the land. If I’m family, like you say, I’ll represent Trey. Then Luke can live part-time in Austin, and there will still be a Waterson on the land. Between me and Luke, family will always be around.”

  Emily grew more excited with each sentence. “Since you think I’m some kind of ranch royalty that can’t live in the bunkhouse, I’ll live in the ranch house. That’ll make you happy. Luke built himself that new addition. I can use Trey’s old room and not be in their way.”

  Emily had no quit in her. She’d taken in Gus’s objections and come up with a new plan that should satisfy everyone.

  She looked up at him, just to see if he liked her idea—he knew that was behind her half smile, the same as it had been last night when she’d told him all her plans. Too quickly, she remembered that he was in the job she’d wanted. Her smile died before it got started, and she turned back to Gus.

  Gus was looking a little sad. No—it was pity. “Emily, sugar, before you get your heart set on that, you need to talk to Trey about filling in for Trey.”

  “Only Watersons can hire Watersons?” Emily rolled her eyes a little. “Okay, then. Trey lives in Oklahoma, but I have to drive back to Tech to move out of my campus apartment, anyway. I’ll take a detour and go see him in person. We’ll get it all worked out. This will be a better solution than me just taking that three-month contract.”

  “Sugar,” Gus started. Hesitated.

 
; Graham had that moment of emptiness again, the one that came before he forced himself to see the truth. He hadn’t wanted to see that the James Hill was Emily’s family ranch, and now he didn’t want to see…

  Her plan couldn’t work. Trey wasn’t in Oklahoma. He was here, after an absence of ten years, signing contracts like the owner he was. Emily didn’t know it yet.

  Emily, sweet girl, it would have been a good solution. I’m so sorry…

  “Sugar, I mean that Trey is going to take Trey’s place. He’s moving back home. You just missed him, in fact. He went into Austin to meet up with Rebecca and get some building permits and such.”

  “He’s back?”

  Gus was silent.

  “It’s been ten years.” Emily sounded stunned.

  “Well now, seems that once he set foot back on his land, he decided not to leave again.”

  “He didn’t even recognize me when he came for the wedding. He hadn’t seen me since I was in middle school.” Abruptly, she stood up, her chair scraping across the floor for a few noisy inches. “Right when I’m finally done with college, right when I could start living here full-time, now Trey’s back? Now he’s decided he gives a damn about this ranch?”

  “Trey’s going to marry Rebecca and settle down right here, where he belongs.”

  Graham didn’t know who Rebecca was, but Emily gasped at this news, too. “He just met her. We all just met her. How could he possibly be that much in love with her?”

  You stole my heart before sunrise, sweet girl. It happens.

  The girl who had Graham’s heart didn’t have the heart to keep fighting this battle. In silence, in defeat, she turned to leave. Graham was standing between her and the door. He uncrossed his arms, but he couldn’t think of the right thing to say.

  “You’re not off the grid, Graham,” she whispered. “You’re just in my way.”

  She stepped around him and left.