Cowboy Crazy

by Joanne Kennedy

  “Apparently, some people in Two Shot don’t want Carrigan here.” She struggled to keep her tone conversational instead of combative.

  “Those rigs are ugly,” Suze said. “I like my plains unspoiled. I like to look out and see for miles, the way you can now, without a house or a factory or even a phone pole in the way. There’s hardly anyplace left in the world like this anymore.” She waved toward the window with such an expansive gesture that Sarah looked out and half expected to see Venetian canals or craggy Alps instead of a line of empty storefronts and crumbling garages.

  “But people need jobs,” Sarah said. “Do you really think your pretty view trumps making a living?”

  Suze glowered at her a moment, then focused on the waitress and twitched her head toward the double doors. “Back to work.”

  The girl scurried off, and Suze started to follow. Impulsively, Sarah reached out to stop her. She didn’t really mean to grab the tie of the woman’s apron, but the knot unraveled as the woman whirled to face her.

  “Sorry,” Sarah said. “I just wondered if you could sit a minute.”

  “Nope.”

  “Please. You lost me my job, Suze. I need to know why.”

  “Wasn’t just me.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t orchestrate the whole thing? I know who holds the power in this town. Just talk to me a minute.”

  Suze was the least vain person Sarah had ever met, but the mention of power made her sigh like a beleaguered starlet as she plumped down into the booth across from Sarah. “Okay. What?”

  Sarah gazed pointedly around the diner. “Not many people here this morning.”

  Suze shrugged. “Some days are busier than others.”

  “I noticed that Best’s Store is boarded up.”

  Suze shrugged again, her heavy shoulders rising and falling with exaggerated carelessness.

  “If something doesn’t change, Two Shot’s going to die,” Sarah said.

  “We get by. There’s ranching, in case you forgot.”

  “It’s harder and harder to make a living that way. Who do you know that ranches without a day job to pay the bills? You know what they say. Behind every great cowboy is a wife who works in town.”

  Suze snorted. “Maybe. But there are jobs. They can always work for me.”

  Sarah nodded toward the kitchen. “You think that girl should wait tables all her life?”

  “She could.”

  “Not much of a future for a bright kid.”

  “Good enough for most people.” Suze shot a disdainful glare across the table. “Not good enough for you, I guess.”

  “But Carrigan would bring something better. They’d…”

  “Don’t tell me what they’d do.” Suze snorted and everyone in the diner turned as if a volcano had erupted in the corner. “You think they’d give the jobs to Two Shot folks? They bring in out-of-towners for those rigs. I know. I met some of ’em. A bunch came through here on their way to Casper. Caught Emmy out back after her shift and teased her ’til she cried. Don’t know what they woulda done to her if Eddie hadn’t happened to go out there.” She pressed her lips together. “They gave Eddie a hard time too, but they finally left.”

  “They’re not all like that.”

  “Don’t care. Two Shot’s not ready for change.” She nodded toward the door again. “Emmy’s not ready.” She jabbed a finger toward Sarah. “You tell her to go to UW, ’cause if she goes out of state folks’ll eat that girl alive.”

  “She’ll learn.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Suze’s expression softened and for a moment she looked almost motherly. “It’s not just the view I want to save. I want the people to stay the same too.” She settled deeper into the booth, her hostility fading. “I been all over before I got here. Two Shot people’s good folks. There’s not many like ’em left in the world.”

  Sarah looked around at the other customers—the poker group in the back in their striped cowboy shirts and Carhartt jackets, Joe sitting at the counter in a T-shirt and worn denim overalls, his battered cowboy boots propped on the rail. Eddie was at the counter, his simple face creased in concern as he watched Suze and Sarah argue.

  The place was pretty much the same as it had been when she’d left all those years ago. She felt a sudden wave of warmth curl around her heart. She’d longed to leave Two Shot, but it wasn’t such a bad place to come back to, even when it didn’t want you.

  At least she knew what to expect. All the time she’d been gone, Two Shot had hung in the distance like a safety net poised to catch her if she fell. It really was like a family. That’s why it had hurt so much when they’d been so cold the day before.

  But looking at Suze, she knew that like a family, they’d all forgive her eventually.

  Chapter 35

  Lane pulled into the parking garage across from the Carrigan building, cruising down an empty row to take a space at the end. The garage had been built by the city in some unrealistic fit of optimism during the last boom. The police department used it, so there were half a dozen cop cars parked on one side, but other than that he had his pick.

  He strode down the short stretch of sidewalk and through the swinging doors to the Carrigan building. Standing in the elevator, he glanced at his reflection and quickly looked away. He’d made the mistake of gussying up for the visit to Carrigan headquarters, and now he knew where the expression “dressed to kill” came from. His brand-new Wranglers were so stiff he could barely bend his knees, and the bolo tie at his throat was slowly strangling him to death.

  He wasn’t sure why he’d felt compelled to citify himself that morning. It wasn’t like he needed to impress Eric. Eric knew who he was no matter what he wore.

  But it was about time he took things more seriously as far as the company was concerned. Sarah had convinced him of that much. He’d always felt a responsibility to the communities surrounding their operations, but he’d believed it was a responsibility to preserve and protect the status quo. Sarah had made him realize that wasn’t all they needed to do. He’d been right in his conviction that drilling rigs and trailer towns ruined the landscape. But he hadn’t thought about the fact that people might be more than willing to trade their pristine landscape and quaint towns for things that were more essential to survival, like medical care and law enforcement.

  The West was going to change. It was his job, and Eric’s, to make sure it changed for the better. It had been Sarah’s job too, up until the day before. Maybe he could do something about that too.

  “Hey, bro.” Eric lowered his feet from the desk, where his polished loafers had been crossed casually on the shining wood. “What’s with the new duds?” His face changed from mockery to dread in an instant. “Oh, shit. You’re looking for Sarah.”

  “Nope. I heard.”

  “It wasn’t anything personal. I just—she couldn’t…” He waved a hand helplessly. “Two Shot’s the only game we’ve got going right now, and she couldn’t do us any good there. She—wait. How did you hear?”

  “I was there.”

  “With Sarah?” A smile spread over Eric’s face. “I guess she can do one of us some good in Two Shot.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Okay. Whatever. But I’ll give her a good recommendation wherever she ends up. She’s good at what she does—she just can’t do it in Two Shot.”

  “That’s between you and her.”

  “Exactly. So why are you here? Must be serious. You shaved and everything.”

  “I shave.”

  “Yeah, once a week, whether you need it or not.”

  Lane settled into the chair in front of the desk and stretched his legs out. Sitting there with Eric lording it over the big mahogany desk always made him feel like some kind of supplicant. But today, he was just that.

  “I want to talk to you about Two Shot.”

  “Not again,” Eric groaned. “Lane, the project’s going forward. You can’t stop it.”

  “I’m thin
king about a conservation easement.” Lane leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach, smug as if he’d just laid out a winning poker hand. “It won’t entirely prevent you from drilling on the ranch, but it’ll make it a pain in the ass.”

  Eric paled. “Great. Do the people of Two Shot know what you’re doing to them? Hijacking the jobs and money we bring in?”

  “The jobs and money come too late. You bring all those people into those small towns, there’s nowhere for them to go. You see it over and over. People slap up substandard buildings to house them. The men come on their own, because their wives won’t bring their families to these godforsaken little towns. You need to put some things in place before things get going. And if you do, I’ll cancel the easement.”

  “What kind of things?”

  Lane shrugged. “Ask the townspeople. You could get together with all those pillars of the community, just like you were going to have Sarah do. But instead of trying to talk them into giving us free rein, figure out how to help them get grants, loans, that kind of thing. And maybe Carrigan could get things started with a grant of their own.”

  “You want me to shell out money before we even start?”

  “Dad would have done it. If he’d have seen Midwest, he’d have wanted to prevent it from happening again.”

  “So this grant…”

  “They need a medical clinic and an ambulance. Right now if something happens at the drilling site you have to drive all the way to Casper. And law enforcement—the place doesn’t even have a real police station.”

  “That’s millions of dollars.”

  “And how much will you take out of the ground?”

  Eric was silent.

  “Plus when people see what you’ve done, it’ll be that much easier to get going in other places. Responsibility brings rewards. That’s what Dad always said.”

  “Don’t bring Dad into this.”

  “Why not? He’s the reason you do all this.” Lane gestured around the room. “You’re still trying to please him.”

  Eric scowled. “It’s easy for you to make fun of that. You were always getting pats on the back with all your sports stuff.”

  “He didn’t have any respect for that. Not once he figured out that winning at bronc busting didn’t translate to winning in business. He’d be proud of you, Eric. Especially if you do this.”

  Eric moved a couple of pens from one side of his blotter to the other, then back again.

  “Look, I’m not here to harangue you. I just wanted to make that suggestion.”

  Eric huffed out a laugh. “Your suggestions sound a lot like demands.”

  “Yeah, well, kind of.” Lane rose. “You want to drill on the ranch, you need to do something for the town. Otherwise, there’s going to be trouble.”

  “We own those rights.” The bravado in Eric’s voice clashed with the tempo of his pencil-tapping, which was taking on the frantic urgency of a heavy metal drum solo. “You can’t stop us.”

  “No, but I can make it hell for you to make so much as a tire track on the property. And if you try to get around it, I can make it news.”

  Eric sighed. “How am I supposed to get all that done? We’re an oil company, not a community development company.”

  “Dunno,” Lane said. “You’re the business guy. I’m just a dumb cowboy, remember?” He looked up at the ceiling as if searching for answers. “Maybe you need to hire somebody who knows what the town needs. Somebody who lived there.”

  ***

  Sarah pulled the Malibu to a stop at the fork in the road and quickly recited the Robert Frost “The Road Not Taken” poem in her head. No, this wasn’t a case of taking the road less traveled; both roads were equally scarred and pitted, so she couldn’t even figure out which one that was. This was a matter of taking the right road.

  She should go back to the cabin, grab the few belongings she’d left there, and leave. But what she wanted to do was go to the ranch and see Cinn just one more time, maybe even spend the day with him.

  It would be a rash, impulsive move, the kind of thing Sarah Landon never did. She’d spent the last ten years building her career by avoiding that kind of self-indulgence. She’d taken the hard road, over and over, denying herself the freedom of turning off her predetermined path. She’d been disciplined and hardworking, responsible and dependable.

  And where had it gotten her? To the crossroads of Nowhere Street and Disaster Road. What the hell did it matter which way she turned? Either way, she was screwed.

  So she might as well go play with that horse.

  She’d have to talk to Trevor first. Yesterday’s getting-to-know-you session hadn’t required anything but herself and the horse, but to go any further she’d need a halter, a lead, maybe a lunge whip for ground training.

  That would mean facing Trevor’s teasing, and probably a bunch of questions about Lane. Maybe she should just hunt down the equipment and find the horse. It was wrong, she knew, to just go on and do what you wanted with an animal. But what had Lane said?

  He’s your horse if you stay.

  Well, she was staying, wasn’t she? Maybe just for today, but still—that made him hers.

  Chapter 36

  Deep down, Sarah knew she was being foolish. She was liable to get attached to the horse, and then it would be even harder to leave. The best insurance would be to make plans. That’s what she’d done for the past decade: map out a plan of attack and stick with it.

  Taking out her cell phone, she dialed Kelsey’s number.

  “Hi, Kelse?”

  “Sarah.” Her sister sounded relieved and angry all at once. “Where have you been?”

  It was the way she sounded when she couldn’t spot Katie on the playground and then the girl popped out of the bushes laughing. When had Kelsey become such a mom? It was like their roles had switched.

  “I stayed at the ranch.”

  “With Lane?”

  “No.”

  “That’s too bad. He was nice.”

  “Yeah, he seems that way, but he’s not. Kelsey, he was the one who bought Flash.”

  “Flash?” Kelsey sounded stunned. “Wow, what a coincidence. That’s amazing. Does he still have him?”

  “No.” Sarah could barely get the words out through clenched teeth. “He bred him, though. He has a colt that—well, it could be the same horse.”

  “Cool.”

  “Cool? Is that all you have to say?”

  “Yeah. You loved that horse. Isn’t it cool to see his baby?”

  “Kelsey, he stole Flash, remember? Two thousand dollars. The horse was worth twenty.”

  “I know, but we had to sell him fast and—well, that’s how it worked out. It’s not like we could have kept him.”

  “I could have kept him.”

  “How? Without Roy…”

  “It would have been hard, but I could have done it. I could have taken him to rodeos again, won some prize money.”

  “How? How would you have gotten him there? Who’d drive the truck? You had to be in the trailer with him or he’d kick it to bits.”

  Sarah gripped the phone so hard her hand hurt. “Never mind, Kelse.”

  She didn’t need to be reminded that she should have been in that trailer. Instead she’d been putting on mascara. Primping while Roy got killed.

  Kelsey knew her so well she could even read her silences. “Sarah, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to you. I know it does.”

  “If I’d been there, Roy would be alive.”

  “No, he…”

  “That’s not what I called about anyway. I need to tell you something.” Damn, this was the hardest phone conversation she’d ever had. “I lost my job.”

  “Oh, Sarah.”

  “It’ll be okay,” Sarah said. “You’ve got Mike now. He’s still working, right? So you and Katie’ll be okay?”

  “We’ll be fine. But it’s not all about me, you know.” S
he muttered something Sarah could barely hear. It sounded like “it never was.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said it never was.” Kelsey sounded defiant, as though she was letting loose something she’d kept bottled up a long time. “It was never about me. It was about you, needing to be—I don’t know. Needing to be needed.”

  Sarah didn’t know how to respond.

  “Sorry,” Kelsey added. “But that’s what Mike said. Look, I’m grateful,” Kelsey sounded sullen, “but if you hadn’t always been there taking over, I might have listened to his message. I know you were trying to help, but…”

  “Kelsey, he left you and you collapsed. What the hell were all those headaches about?”

  “They were about being stressed,” Kelsey admitted. “You helped, and I appreciate it. But I’m okay now, all right? I don’t need help. I can make it on my own.” She paused a moment. “With Mike. I know you think it’s wrong to take him back, but the whole thing was mostly a misunderstanding.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said. The phone suddenly seemed heavy in her hand.

  “What we need to talk about is you,” Kelsey said. “I can’t believe you’re still harping on the whole deal with Flash. Come on, what’s done is done. I’d forgotten all about whoever bought him. I remember you made him into some kind of bogeyman, some evil outside force that ruined our lives. Well, he didn’t.”

  “We lost the ranch, Kelsey.”

  “We lost it because Roy made bad decisions. He gambled on that horse, and he lost. There was something wrong with Flash, you know? I was scared to death of him.”

  “I loved him.”

  “I know you did, but he was screwed up. Nobody could deal with him. So stop blaming everything on somebody who took a load off our hands.”

  Sarah felt like the air had been sucked out of the car. Her sister blamed Roy for what had happened to them. Roy, who had saved their family and died. Died for her, in a way.

  “Look, I have to go.” She had no idea where. She wasn’t about to ask Kelsey for a place to stay anymore.

  She pulled the phone away from her ear and heard her sister protesting in a tinny, faraway voice. “No, wait. Sarah, we need to talk about this.”