At least she was no longer scared of him. If anything, she’d discovered her own power. Maybe now he should be scared of her.
* * *
EXHAUSTION HAD SET in by the time Cassidy reached Coffee Creek Ranch. After checking Finnegan and finding him holding his own, she decided to take everyone’s advice and finish out the night in her own bed, with Sky sleeping at her feet as usual.
The unfamiliar bedding, the dark shadow of the new armoire against the far wall and the smell of fresh paint were useful for one thing—distracting her from thoughts of Farley.
Her utter tiredness helped, too. She closed her eyes and the next thing she knew the sun was rising, blanketing the horizon with a wash of fresh orange light.
She convinced Sky to stay inside when she went out to do her chores. The storm system had finally passed on, and the day was breaking clear and bright. She took it as another good sign when she was able to convince Finnegan to eat some mush straight from her hand. She was burning his bedding in an area set off from the barns and pastures when she saw Jackson drive up to the equine barn.
He’d either been up awfully early this morning, or he had spent the night away. Could it be a woman?
Somehow she didn’t think so. Jackson looked so morose these days—not at all like a man who was enjoying the excitement of a new relationship. Or even the comfort of an older one.
Once she’d extinguished the fire, she decided to see if he would talk to her.
The equine barn was double the size of the one they used for their home horses. Olive had spared no expense in the design or outfitting. She wanted potential buyers to be impressed when they came to check out their herd.
And she’d been even more careful in selecting the breeding stock for the operation. The result was that Coffee Creek Ranch now had the reputation for breeding some of the finest American quarter horses in Montana.
Cassidy found Jackson giving orders to a couple of the hired men. They were monitoring several mares, trying to pick the optimum time for breeding. She waited until they were finished their discussion and asked him how he was doing.
“Fine.” He paused, then nodded toward the door. “Want to go for a walk?”
“Sure.” She followed him back into the sunshine and out to the pasture where the mares were grazing. She noticed the spring growth had been picked over pretty well, and Jackson must have been thinking the same thing.
“We need to move them out soon, now that the warmer weather seems to be settling in.”
Cassidy eyed the herd, looking to see if any of the horses seemed dispirited or uninterested in grazing. “They all seem healthy.”
“Yeah. You’ve done a good job of keeping the infection contained.”
A compliment from her foster brother—always a man of few words—was something to be savored. “Thank you.”
“You put your heart and soul into it. The way you tackle everything you do.” He gave her a little smile. “But you didn’t come to me to talk about the strangles, did you?”
Cassidy knew she had to choose her words carefully. Jackson was a grown man with every right to come and go as he pleased without a family inquisition. “I don’t mean to pry. I just want to know if everything’s okay.”
“That’s a tough one. Do I still miss Brock each and every day? Yes, I do. But I’m sure all you do, too. What you don’t have to feel every day is the responsibility of knowing you contributed to his death.”
“That’s harsh, Jackson. And totally unfair. If a bolt of lightning had struck the truck, would you have blamed yourself for that, too?”
Jackson’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t respond. Cassidy sighed out of frustration. “Is that why you were out last night? Did it have something to do with Brock?”
“In a way.” He studied her face for a bit, as if weighing consequences in his mind. Then he seemed to come to a conclusion. Placing a hand on her shoulder he said, “You know Brock used to go over to Silver Creek Ranch and help out your aunt now and then.”
“Yes. I heard about that.”
“He thought it was totally bogus the way the family had cut her off.”
“It never felt right,” Cassidy agreed. “But there must be reasons.”
“According to Corb, Maddie didn’t tell your mother when their father had his stroke. Your mother won’t forgive Maddie for denying her the chance to say her farewells before he died.”
“That’s awful!” Cassidy knew she’d always treasure her own last moments with her father. He’d had his first heart attack in the morning, been rushed to the hospital in Great Falls, then passed away two days later. Her mother had been by his side the entire time and Cassidy and her brothers had all had a chance to see him, too. “Did Brock know that?”
“I don’t think so. But I suspect he would have said that there are always two sides to a story. Since he passed on, I’ve felt it was my duty to continue where he left off and help Maddie whenever I have free time. That’s where I was last night—working until dark reshingling her roof. She invited me to bunk over and I couldn’t say no. I could tell she wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to be alone.”
Cassidy didn’t know what to think. She felt sorry for her aunt, but she still wanted to know why Maddie hadn’t told Olive when their father had that stroke. Why would anyone deny someone the chance to say farewell to their beloved parent?
“Do you think Mom knew what Brock was up to?”
“No, but your father did.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Though his loyalty to your mother made it impossible for him to say so, I think he approved.”
Cassidy didn’t doubt that. Her father had been such a softie. “Jackson, I feel awful about Maddie Turner. Is there anything I should do?”
“Just stay out of it, Cassidy. It’s better if you don’t get involved.” He glanced back at the barn. She could tell he didn’t want to discuss the topic any further.
She sighed. Why was life always so complicated?
“I should go check on Sky. She had a tussle with a coyote last night and I had to take her to Farley’s for some stitches.” She made a show of scraping some mud off her boot as she said this, in case her expression gave anything away.
“That explains your hair, I guess.”
Cassidy put a hand to her head. She’d forgotten that she still hadn’t brushed out all the tangles. “I was covered in blood. Farley made me shower at his place, but he didn’t have any conditioner.”
“Is that a fact.” Jackson looked amused. But only for a moment. “I’m sorry I wasn’t home to help you last night. Damn, those coyotes are getting pretty brash if they’ll come right up to the yard.”
“Maybe it was the full moon.” It might explain more than the coyotes’ behavior.
Chapter Ten
After breakfast, Cassidy decided that Lucy and Chickweed needed some fresh air and exercise. She took Lucy first, into one of the training pens. On a lark, she rolled out three barrels and made a makeshift barrel racing track.
“Ever seen one of these before?” she asked Lucy. “I have a feeling you’re going to find this really fun.” She tacked up the horse, then walked her through the circuit, letting Lucy familiarize herself with the wooden barrels.
At the first barrel Lucy paused and blew air from her nostrils, and then she grew more frisky, as if she sensed that a game was in the offing and she was anxious to get going.
Lucy seemed like a natural as she traced the distinctive cloverleaf pattern around the barrels. And she instinctively made tight, clean turns around each one.
After just their second trial circuit, Lucy tossed her head and gave a snort as if to say, I get it. Can we do it faster now?
So Cassidy urged her back to the imaginary start line. She held her in place for about thirty seconds, then let loose with a holler.
“Yeah! Go, Lucy, go!”
Cassidy laughed as her horse took off, following the path that they’d been tracing earlier, only much faster
. She nicked the first barrel and totally trashed the second, but sailed around the third with no incident.
“Not bad. Not bad at all.”
Cassidy hadn’t realized she had an audience. Suddenly self-conscious, she trotted Lucy to the fence. Farley had his arms resting on the top rung, a big smile on his face.
“Decided to train her to be a barrel racer after all, huh?”
She shook her head. “Just having some fun.”
His gaze swept over her, and self-consciously she put a hand to her hair, wishing she’d remembered to put on a hat, or at least pulled the mess into a ponytail or something.
Farley didn’t seem any worse for the excitement of the previous night. He looked as strong, calm and unflappable as ever.
“How was Sky this morning?”
“Tired, but good. She ate a little breakfast and had a lot of water.” Heat was rising up her neck to her face. It had nothing to do with the exertion of the ride and everything to do with seeing Farley.
Would he mention the kiss?
“That’s a good sign.” He broke away from the fence. “Jackson wants me to do some work with his mares this morning. I guess I’d better get started. I heard you laughing, though, and couldn’t resist coming to see what you were up to.”
He started to walk away, then turned back. “You need to laugh more often. It’s a beautiful sound.”
* * *
BY NOON, CASSIDY had finished exercising both Lucy and Chickweed and given them both a thorough grooming. She managed to coax Finnegan into eating a little more mush and dared to hope that before too long her brave, old mustang would be back to normal. When she’d finished scrubbing up, she modified her route back to the house so she could circle around the equine barn and see if Farley’s truck was still parked there. It wasn’t.
She saw Jackson and Corb, though, mounted on two of the uninfected ranch horses, preparing to move some of the newly pregnant mares to the northwest pasture.
Inside the house, Bonny was washing the kitchen floor on her hands and knees—the way Olive always insisted it had to be done. Cassidy tiptoed around the tiled area on her way to her bedroom.
“Hey, Bonny. Thanks for the chili the other night. It was delicious.”
“Glad you liked it.” Bonny sat back on her haunches. “Want me to get you some lunch?”
“No thanks. Since Mom still isn’t back from her trip, I thought I’d go into town. Do we need anything while I’m there?”
“Not that I can think of.” Bonny went back to washing floors and Cassidy took a shower, using copious amounts of conditioner to untangle her hair.
As she grabbed her wallet to leave, Sky gave her a “please stay here and hang out with me” look. But when Cassidy asked if she wanted to go in the truck—a word that usually had Sky bounding to her feet—Sky turned her head and pretended she hadn’t heard the offer.
Cassidy cranked up the tunes in her truck as she drove—windows down, her hair blowing. It would be a mess again, but who cared. She was relieved the rain had finally stopped. Sunshine was always good for the spirit. When her phone chimed she decided to pull over and see who was trying to reach her.
Maybe...Farley?
Or the accounting firm?
But no, it was just another text message from Josh, frustrated as usual that she wasn’t answering his calls. The disappointment she felt when she saw his name told her something that she’d been suspecting ever since she arrived home.
Had seeing Farley again been part of her change of heart?
In all honesty, she couldn’t say no.
But that didn’t change the fact that her friendly feelings toward Josh would never reach the level of passion and excitement that she’d felt for Farley last night.
She couldn’t tell Josh this by text message. So she called him.
As she waited for him to answer, she prepped a little speech in her head. This time apart has given me time to think...and I’ve realized that we’re just not right for each other...
Of course, the actual conversation didn’t go quite as smoothly as she’d planned.
“You’ve been leading me on,” Josh complained.
Cassidy decided to take this one on the chin, as her brothers would say. “If I have, then I’m sorry.”
“Are you? You don’t sound it.”
Oh, he sounded like a petulant little boy. “Well, I apologize for that, too. I’m sorry for all of it, Josh, but I hope we can still be friends.”
To her surprise, he mumbled, “Maybe.” Then hung up.
She took a minute to review the conversation. Had she been cruel? But sometimes that was what honesty required. And she’d been that, at least. If they ended up working at the same accounting firm, she’d just hope that Josh would be decent about it.
By the time she reached the Cinnamon Stick, Cassidy was starving. Eugenia and Laurel were handling the tail end of the luncheon rush. Both booths and all four stools were taken, but that didn’t worry her. She’d order a sandwich and eat it outside.
“Where’s Steph?” she asked her sister-in-law after ordering the Black Forest sandwich special.
“She’s had her lunch and now she’s napping.” Laurel patted the monitor located on a shelf above the food prep area. “She’s usually good for a couple of hours in the afternoon and when she wakes up, she’ll have another feeding, then we’ll go home.” She winked. “That’s the plan, anyway.”
Eugenia shrugged. “Babies, they have their own ideas about schedules and such. But I must admit, that little Stephanie is one golden child.”
“She sure is.” Laurel handed Cassidy her sandwich, then in a lower voice said, “Did you know your mother is here?”
Cassidy frowned, then went to the window. Sure enough, parked on the other side of a big horse trailer that had blocked her view was the Coffee Ranch SUV. She scanned the room again.
“Where is she?”
Laurel raised her eyebrows. “In the kitchen. Talking to Vince.”
“I didn’t think anyone talked to Vince.”
“Oh, they do. He just doesn’t talk back.”
Cassidy grinned. “Has she eaten?”
“Not that I know of.”
“I’ll see if she wants something.” Cassidy edged around the corner, heading for the closed door separating the kitchen from the serving area. She could hear voices, all right. Her mother was speaking.
“—two years and haven’t been for dinner once.”
“I was there for the baby shower.”
“Not the same thing. Why don’t you come this Sunday? I’ll invite the whole family.”
When Vince didn’t answer, she added, “Including Jackson.”
Why would Vince care if Jackson was invited to dinner or not? Cassidy realized she was eavesdropping, but was too curious to stop.
“I know you mean well. But I’m happy sticking to myself.”
“Come on, Vince. We may be old but we’re not dead.”
Cassidy gasped. Her mother sounded like she was flirting. She waited, but again Vince chose to say nothing. She was just about to move before—
And then it was too late. The door swung open and her mother stepped right in front of her.
“Cassidy?”
“I—I came for a sandwich.” She held up the paper bag Laurel had given her a minute ago.
“Then what are you doing behind the counter?”
“Laurel told me you were here. I was going to ask if you wanted some lunch, too.” But then she’d been distracted by something more interesting than ham and cheese on rye.
“I’ve eaten, thank you.” Her mother sounded distracted. “We’ve been so busy lately, I was hoping we could all get together for dinner this Sunday. Are you and Corb free?” she asked Laurel.
“We sure are. Can I bring something?”
“Maybe one of Vince’s pies for dessert? Unless he decides to bring one himself. I invited him, as well.”
“Oh.” Laurel paused in the act of wiping clea
n the counter. “I didn’t know you and Vince were friends.”
“We went to school together. And yes, we were friends before he got caught up in the rodeo circuit.”
The scorn on her mother’s face made it clear what she thought about that lifestyle. Olive assumed that every cowboy was in it for the partying, the women and the alcohol. She never seemed to see B.J.’s trophies and prize winnings as anything but minor accomplishments at best.
But perhaps it was because she’d seen what the rodeo life had done to Vince that she was so hard on her oldest son, Cassidy reflected.
“Corb and I will try to convince him to come,” Laurel promised.
“Good luck with that.” From what Cassidy had overheard, she guessed it wasn’t going to be easy.
* * *
THE NEXT FEW days were hot. Summer had arrived in Montana and with a vengeance.
By Sunday, the humidity had risen to intolerable levels and there was talk of thunderclouds, even though the sky was still clear.
Come three o’clock however, it wasn’t. As the clouds gathered, so did the horses, moving into their storm shelters, acting skittish and wild. Cassidy finished her chores early so she could peel potatoes for the dinner and set the table as her mother had asked.
By five-thirty all the family had arrived. Cassidy had commandeered her niece, Corb was opening wine, Jackson was on the patio grilling steaks, Laurel was tossing the salad while Olive checked the potatoes roasting in the oven. Amid all that chaos, the doorbell rang.
“Get that, will you, Cass?” her mother asked.
So her mother had convinced Vince to come after all, Cassidy surmised as she headed for the entrance with Steph tucked snugly in her left arm.
She still thought it was odd that Vince had been invited to a family dinner. She’d asked her mom about it earlier and all Olive had said was that Vince had once been a very dear friend.
“Was he friends with your sister, too?” she’d asked, feeling a little daring for even mentioning Maddie’s existence.
“Probably,” had been her mom’s short answer.
There had to be more to the story, Cassidy thought, remembering the look of pain on Maddie’s face that day Vince had said hello to her outside the café.
Her Cowboy Dilemma Page 12