Lassoed by the Would-Be Rancher--A Clean Romance

by Melinda Curtis

  We ride around the property, look at some trees, round up some cattle.

  Two birds, one stone.

  Shane allowed himself a small smile.

  “You should have gone into fiction writing, Shane.” Stroking his red goatee, Jonah eased into the couch cushions. “That’s a little too predictable.”

  “Yeah. What if there’s nothing at the end of this trail?” Bo demanded. “Didn’t you say residents have been looking for Merciless Mike’s hidden gold for decades?”

  Shane began to doubt he could convince them to help. Elation drained out of him. He felt the exhaustion of the day, of his extended stay in Second Chance, of the roadblocks he encountered at every turn.

  Shane pulled up the picture of the Clarks on his phone and showed his cousins. “I found this picture on a trail leading up the mountain.” He toggled to the photo of their grandfather, Gertie’s husband and the mystery man.

  “Am I seeing double?” Bo squinted. “Two Harlans?”

  “Could be a cousin.” Shane shrugged. “Or a brother.”

  “The plot thickens.” Jonah couldn’t hide the interest in his tone. He’d never been good at cards, either.

  “I’m going to contact the county recorder’s office.” Shane planned to request all records of Monroe births. “We’ll find out who’s in that picture with Grandpa Harlan. But if we can find out where the trail leads, we can use that as a draw for tourists.”

  “Hike Merciless Mike’s trail?” Bo’s expression was dubious. “That sounds like an amusement-park attraction.”

  “People hike to waterfalls for a good view,” Shane pointed out. “They walk the Oregon Trail to experience history. A legend like this adds to the mystique of Second Chance. More so if there is gold waiting there to be discovered.”

  “‘Adds to the mystique’?” Bo grumbled. “It’s the only mystery here.”

  “I don’t care.” Jonah was definitely in Shane’s camp now. “I claim dibs.”

  “Dibs? On what?” Bo frowned at Jonah. “Pictures in trees?”

  “No. Grandpa Harlan’s twisted story. Forgotten relatives.” Jonah picked up his laptop and began pounding on the keys. “And yes, I suppose photographs in trees. ‘Gold in them thar hills.’ All I need now is a villain.”

  “One who’d use that bear trap from Sophie’s store?” Bo chuckled, but only briefly. “Hey, are the owners of the Bucking Bull going to be okay with us traipsing around their ranch?”

  “It’s kind of a quid-pro-quo situation.” Shane delivered his proposition slowly. “They’ll provide us with horses and lead us around the property if we agree to help herd any stray cattle back to home base.” Should he tell them about the granddaddy of all bulls? He decided not to.

  There was safety in numbers, right?

  Bo crossed his arms. Again, Jonah closed his laptop. They both waited for Shane to say more.

  “It was the only way I could get us access to the property.” That wasn’t the reason at all. Shane was glad Franny wasn’t around to hear this.

  But someone else was.

  “Shane.” Roy tottered out of the guest room located to the right of the fireplace. He hadn’t combed his white hair or ironed his bright green bowling shirt. Since he’d suffered a heart attack a few weeks ago, he hadn’t been comfortable enough to move back into his cabin alone. “You could ask me about the man in the picture.” Roy sounded hurt. “Or the pictures in trees.”

  “If I asked, would you tell me?” Shane knew better than to get his hopes up.

  “You know I’m not legally allowed.” Roy sat down in a wing-back chair near Bo, having the good grace to look remorseful to have signed a confidentiality agreement. The town’s handyman did enjoy being helpful. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be asked.”

  “And there you have it, gentleman.” Shane pointed to Roy. “A nonanswer. Proof that there is something out there. Something Grandpa Harlan wanted us to find.”

  “Or it’s a wonderfully plotted red herring.” Jonah studied Roy, no doubt cataloguing him for characterization in his script. “I don’t care. I’m in.”

  Relief relaxed the kink in Shane’s neck.

  “I suppose I could spare a few days,” Bo said, relenting.

  “Fantastic!” Shane couldn’t believe things were finally going his way. “Plan on a horseback ride tomorrow.”

  “Can’t we rent a quad or something?” Jonah had never enjoyed athletics.

  “We don’t have enough ATVs,” Shane said. The Bucking Bull only had the one quad.

  “Cattle can hear engines...” Roy trailed off, rubbing his collarbone and grimacing like he was having another heart attack.

  “Roy?” Shane hurried to the old man’s side. “Are you okay?”

  “If my heart’s still beating in a minute, I’ll let you know.” The old man levered himself to his feet just as Laurel came out of Mitch’s apartment behind the check-in desk.

  “Hey, Dr. Carlisle. Thanks for taking my call. I’m sure it’s nothing,” Laurel said in to her phone as she massaged her lower back and told the former candidate for town doctor her symptoms. “I’m about twenty-two weeks along and...”

  Behind her, Mitch filled the doorway, worry lining his strong features. Roy’s glazed eyes didn’t stray from Laurel.

  “Practice contractions?” Laurel beamed at Mitch. “That’s great to hear... Yes, Mitch made me call.”

  Roy’s breath hitched, which had Shane lurching across the room and taking the phone from his cousin.

  “Hey, Dr. Carlisle. It’s Shane Monroe.” He spit out words quickly before the doctor could protest or hang up. “I’m standing here looking at Roy. You remember Roy, right? Older gentleman who’s skinny enough to play C-3PO in Star Wars?” He paused to draw a breath and take hold of Roy’s arm. “Anyway, he had a heart attack a few weeks ago and stents put in. And right now, he’s rubbing his chest, looking pale and not at all annoyed that I just compared him to a robot.”

  Mitch took Roy’s other arm and together they sat the old man in a chair. Laurel bent behind the check-in desk and then joined them, carrying a large first-aid kit.

  “Dr. Carlisle?” Shane checked to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. His palms were damp as he tried to recall his CPR training.

  “Shouldn’t we call 911?” Jonah hovered nearby.

  “It’ll take them thirty minutes to get here,” Mitch explained calmly.

  “Is he having chest pain or shortness of breath?” Dr. Carlisle sounded weary but had committed to stay on the line.

  Shane relayed the question and got his answer. “No.”

  Laurel slipped a portable blood-pressure cuff on Roy’s thin wrist.

  “Tell her I felt a little ping in my heart.” Roy cleared his throat. “Ever since it happened... It’s probably nothing.” But he still looked shaken.

  Shane was shaken, too. “His heart pinged. Is that normal? Laurel’s taking his blood pressure.”

  “He needs to be checked out in person by a medical professional. I’ve seen your equipment up there. You can’t trust the readings.” She sighed. “Ask Laurel if she can come down to Ketchum for an office visit and bring Roy to see his doctor as well. Today.”

  Shane relayed the message, setting the group in motion. “Thank you, Dr. Carlisle. I don’t suppose you’d reconsider our job offer. You should see Second Chance in spring. The wildflowers are in bloom.”

  “Amazing.” She didn’t hang up on Shane. “Holden warned me you’d find a way to repeat your offer.”

  “Did he now?” Anger shuddered through Shane, questions and accusations pressed up the back of his throat.

  His cousin and Dr. Carlisle had spent a long, romantic evening getting to know each other two months ago when the town was snowed in.

  “Holden also suspected you might make me an offer to consult on updating your clin
ic.”

  “That was the furthest thing from my mind.” But a wonderful idea. Shane wished he’d thought of it. Second Chance took time to grow on some people. It was the perfect way to win her over. “Do you still carry that black purse of yours?” The one she used in self-defense.

  She chuckled. “Yes, I do.”

  “You don’t use it on Holden, do you?” Use. Present tense.

  “No.” She chuckled again. A feminine chuckle. A self-conscious chuckle.

  An I’ve-seen-your-cousin-recently-but-it’s-our-little-secret chuckle.

  Shane’s fingers curled so hard his knuckles cracked. What was Holden up to? He lived in New York and was dating an Idaho doctor? Why? Shane took a deep, calming breath. “I hope Holden took you someplace nice in Ketchum for dinner last weekend.” The weekend he’d returned for Sophie’s wedding.

  “It was a lovely dinner. I made sure I met him at the restaurant.” Her tone gave away that she’d fallen for Holden’s considerable charms. “The last time I got into a car with a Monroe I was in Ketchum, but ended up in Second Chance somehow.”

  “Yes, well. I apologized for that.” Shane rolled his shoulder where she’d hit him with her suitcase-sized purse. “Since I can’t get you to consult on updating the clinic, can you recommend someone?”

  Mitch and Roy headed out the door. Laurel held out her hand for her phone. Someone on Dr. Carlisle’s end called her name. Shane wanted to keep the doc on the line, but he couldn’t decide which of his thousand questions to ask next.

  “I have to go,” Dr. Carlisle said. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Shane relinquished the phone and waited for Laurel to leave, then asked Bo, “Did you know your brother was dating Laurel’s doctor? Why would he do that?”

  Bo shrugged. “Is she pretty?”

  “Yes.”

  Bo yawned. “Is she smart?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pretty, smart, a doctor.” Bo ticked off her attributes. “Need I say more?”

  Jonah opened his laptop. “He must have run out of smart, pretty doctors to date in New York City.”

  That was the simplest explanation. But this felt different to Shane.

  He added Holden interfering with his doctor search to his list of things to worry about.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SHANE WASN’T NORMALLY a breakfast person.

  He was particularly not fond of Ivy’s breakfast at the Bent Nickel Diner. She wasn’t the best of cooks.

  But the coffee was good, the rain had moved on and Laurel and Roy had passed their health checks yesterday, so things in town were quiet. And Shane needed to eat since he’d promised Franny he’d return to the ranch today to help bring in strays.

  The Clark boys scurried in with their backpacks, dropped off by Franny, who drove off in a hurry. Charlie and Adam headed for the back, where Alex and Andy were serving time in pre-K. The twins would be finished after an hour or so and Laurel had agreed to watch them while Shane returned to the Bucking Bull. He didn’t want to take them to the ranch until he was sure it was safe.

  Davey paused at Shane’s table. “Are these your brothers?” He shouldered his backpack, holding the arm with his missing hand to his chest, where everyone could see. Owning it.

  “Cousins,” Shane clarified. His brother was too busy being a chef in Vegas to stay in Second Chance. He introduced Jonah and Bo. “This is Davey, one of the cowboys from the Bucking Bull.”

  Davey’s chest swelled with pride at his title. “Mom says if I grow, by next year I can help her with strays the way you guys are today. Well...if I grow and get good grades. I better go.” He leaned down and whispered, “I didn’t finish my vocabulary.”

  The Monroes wished him luck as he scurried to join his brothers. Conversation rolled around the back tables as children greeted Davey.

  “Look at all those kids.” Shane gestured with his coffee cup. “There must be at least fifteen. If it was me leading them, it’d be chaos.”

  Jonah craned his neck to see behind him. “That teacher has the Pied-Piper look about him, like Grandpa Harlan used to have.”

  “The old man always did seem happy to see us,” Bo allowed, scratching the dark stubble on his chin. “He’d cram us in that old motorhome and drag us off for an adventure.”

  “I don’t think he always knew where we were going.” Shane smiled as nostalgia took hold. “Remember how he’d spread his highway map out, hem and haw, and then announce where we were going.”

  Jonah turned back around. “Yeah, it was like he was thankful to us for an excuse to get away. Anywhere.”

  “Our fathers didn’t make it easy on him.” Bo returned his attention to his plate and a steak drenched in white gravy. “Questioned his every move. At least, until they took over.”

  “It’s hard not being in command.” Shane tamped down the rising frustration as he thought of the town council ignoring his suggestions for a fair or festival.

  “Grandpa Harlan would say it builds character.” Bo mopped up gravy with a biscuit.

  “I miss him,” Shane admitted. “Seeing his picture at the Bucking Bull... I miss him.” He cleared his throat. “But I have to wonder why he never brought us here.”

  His cousins shrugged.

  Suddenly, Jonah laughed. “This conversation with you is surreal, Shane. Tell us the truth. There’s an evil force in town. A presence who devoured my cousin Shane and lives in the shell of his body.”

  “Very funny.” Shane buttered his toast, even the burned crust.

  “Is this what happens when you move to Second Chance?” Bo stopped eating. “You lose your edge?”

  Shane set down his knife. “If that loss makes you more like Grandpa Harlan, then yes.”

  * * *

  NOT ONLY DID Shane show up the day after he’d left the Bucking Bull, but, as promised, he also brought two of his cousins.

  Franny very nearly threw herself in his arms again. An unwise impulse she fought hard to control.

  My luck is changing.

  “What are they doing here?” Emily joined Franny on the front porch. She scowled, but her downtrodden expression was reserved for the redheaded Monroe with the goatee.

  “They’re going to help me bring in the strays.” And maybe Mr. Muscles could be prevailed upon to dehorn the ferals.

  “Bringing in strays is my job. And Zeke’s.” Emily hadn’t taken her eyes off that one Monroe, which was surprising considering it was Mr. Muscles she’d had her heart set on at the wedding last week.

  “I can’t wait for you or Zeke.” Franny tilted her head toward the house. “Our stockman is coming. Go on. Get ready for work in town.”

  Emily took her sour expression into the house, slamming the screen door behind her.

  Shane ascended the porch steps. He wore jeans, a gray polo and cowboy boots that looked broken in. “Problem?”

  “Always,” Franny answered, resisting the urge to greet him with anything other than a contained smile. Where had he gotten those old boots?

  “I told you.” Gertie took Emily’s place on the porch, leaning on her walker. Her hair was flat on one side and curled up like a rising white wave on the other. She wore baggy burgundy sweats, a cozy purple sweater and her signature slippers. Not the best of impressions for meeting out of towners. But her smile was wide and nearly normal. “I told you the Monroes will help.”

  Shane introduced his cousins to Franny and Gertie.

  “I like your boots,” Franny teased Shane, unable to resist any longer.

  “My sister Sophie found a roomful of used boots stored in the old schoolhouse last month. Jonah and I bought them from Emily at the trading post yesterday afternoon.” Shane looked at his toes and then at Franny, a sly grin on his face as if he was thinking about kisses rather than boots. “I thought Emily might have told you.” His grin expanded as th
e temperature in her cheeks rose.

  Emily slammed out of the house.

  “I’m still part of this family, you know.” Emily marched down the stairs and to her truck. “Don’t exclude me just because I’m working in town,” she called over her shoulder.

  Jonah made a derisive noise that elicited a growl from Emily.

  “I didn’t mean to go behind your back, Em.” Franny rushed to soothe her sister-in-law’s ruffled feathers. “I just wasn’t sure they’d show up this morning.”

  “Monroes are dependable.” This from Gertie. Her gaze was more settled than her coif.

  Unable to stand it any longer, Franny finger-combed Gertie’s hair while Emily backed up, truck tires spitting gravel.

  Jonah leaped out of Emily’s path before she ran over his toes. “I don’t know about Monroes, but Shane is dependable.”

  “Grandpa Harlan always thought so.” Bo frowned at Jonah. “Did Emily just try to run you over? Is there something you’re not telling us?”

  “She thinks that I think...” Jonah shook his head. “Never mind.”

  Wasn’t that interesting?

  Gertie chuckled. “Monroes.”

  Only when the dust from Emily’s truck dissipated did Franny realize there was no one around to stay with Gertie. She faced her grandmother-in-law and her walker.

  “I’ll be fine,” Gertie reassured her, reading Franny’s mind. “We need riders. Don’t argue.”

  Franny couldn’t. She was backed into a corner, and Gertie knew it. “You’ll keep the cordless phone with you?”

  “Cross my heart.” Gertie nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  Franny hoped so. “Come on, all you Monroes. Let’s get horses saddled and ride.” She led them to the barn and pointed out which horses she was pairing them with.

  “Nags,” Bo proclaimed as he looked at the horse she’d chosen for him to ride. “I’m from Texas. I can handle a horse born in the last decade.”

  “I’ll stick with the slower, older, economy model.” Jonah gestured toward Davey’s mustang, Yoda. “Since I haven’t ridden in years, it’ll get me where we’re going and back again.”