Farley felt as if a big, black storm cloud had just pushed the sunshine out of the day. But he smiled again and told her she should be proud.
“Thank you. The timing couldn’t be better. After that scene with my mother...” Cassidy kicked at a clump of hay, scattering the fibers over the floor. “I truly believe we’ll have a better relationship if we don’t see so much of each other.”
“So what are you thinking? Coming home maybe once a year?” Farley tried to joke so she wouldn’t guess how he really felt.
She laughed. “More like once a month. I will miss this place. But I was thinking if I found a ground-level suite maybe I could take Sky with me this time.”
“It won’t be easy for her to adjust to the city.” Farley waved a hand indicating all the beautiful land around them. “Not when she’s used to all this.”
Once more the smile on Cassidy’s face wavered, but then she shrugged. “We’ll see. She’s getting older. Maybe she won’t mind spending most of her days inside.”
Farley removed the protective gloves, then washed up at the sink. He thought he could sense some nervousness behind her happy chatter.
But that was only normal, right? It didn’t mean she had doubts that she was doing the right thing.
Whereas he did. He couldn’t help siding with her family on this one. Cassidy belonged here, in Coffee Creek. But if he dared to tell her this, he’d only be one more person telling her how to live.
* * *
CASSIDY DROVE TO Billings on Wednesday after her evening chores. Finnegan hadn’t been cleared from quarantine yet—and frankly he didn’t seem quite himself, anyway—so she asked Corb if he would keep an eye on him for her.
Her brother must have been feeling a little guilty about Sunday, because he didn’t tease her or complain, just said it would be no problem.
Even though she knew it was. His days were full with branding and vaccinating the new calves, but she didn’t want to ask one of the hired hands to do the job.
Not that she didn’t trust them. She just trusted Corb more.
The drive to Billings was long. Three hours. She’d expected to enjoy the journey, but thoughts of home—and Farley—kept intruding.
He’d seemed happy for her when she told him about the second interview. She’d been glad of the support—which she hadn’t received from her family.
But part of her had wished he would just grab her and kiss her.
Ever since that night at his house, she’d been able to think of little else but making love with Farley. What would it be like? Would it ever happen?
So much was against them. Their age difference had been a big impediment for a long time. And now there was her mother—pushing them together so hard that Cassidy couldn’t help but wonder if she was in danger of making a big mistake.
If she succumbed to her longing for Farley, she’d be trapped. Just the way her mother wanted her to be. Living forever in the shadow of her family and the Coffee Creek Ranch.
Cassidy spent a lonely night at the Super 8. She could have called her classmates—and Josh—but she didn’t want to talk to any of them until she had the interview behind her.
If it was a flop, she’d just run back home and consider her options.
If it went well, she’d be in the mood for a little celebrating.
Thursday morning she dressed in the same skirt, blazer, blouse and pumps that she’d worn to the first interview when the firms had come on campus to survey the best of that year’s graduating class.
She hoped they wouldn’t remember that she was wearing the same outfit. But she had nothing else appropriate.
She winced as she walked out of the hotel to the parking lot. She wished she’d had the nerve to wear her cream-colored cowboy boots. But her girlfriends in college had told her the look wasn’t right.
She sighed and slid behind the driver’s wheel. She’d gone over the directions on the internet so many times, she had no need to refer to a map as she made her way toward the downtown.
Billings was small as cities went, with around a quarter of a million people. But it was the biggest metropolis in Montana and as she surveyed the busy streets, the traffic and all the people hurrying to work, she wondered if she was going to be happy here.
She’d been fine during her five years in Bozeman. But that had been college. This could be the rest of her life—at least a big chunk of it.
In her email Pamela Oswald had helpfully suggested a place to park and Cassidy felt more confident once she’d maneuvered her truck into one of the stalls. On foot she felt better. Well, if it wasn’t for these darn heels, she’d feel better. Why had she let the girls talk her into three-inch heels?
She hoped she didn’t look as if she’d been hobbled as she made her way along the sidewalk toward North Broadway and what appeared to be the tallest office tower in the city. Around her men and women were carrying briefcases and take-out coffees. Many of them had PDAs in hand, checking messages or taking calls.
She felt important, just being among them.
Squaring her shoulders, she entered the lobby and headed for the elevators, squishing into the small space with four men and three other ladies.
She noticed a few glances coming her way, and nervously put a hand to her hair.
On Tuesday she’d gone to Lewistown to get it trimmed. “Chop off three or four inches” had been her instructions. When she looked at the floor, though, she was sure she saw at least six inches of her golden hair—gone.
The new length came to her shoulders, though, and swung nicely as she walked. This morning she’d used a hair dryer and straightener after her shower to make sure it was sleek and controlled.
Stop thinking about your hair, stupid. It’s your brain that will win you this job.
She got off on the fifteenth floor and headed to the receptionist, per Pamela’s instructions.
She was invited to wait on an elegant leather sofa. Business publications and the Wall Street Journal were fanned out on the glass table in front of her. But she focused on all the people coming and going. Some of them cast her a curious look. A few smiled. Most just ignored her.
If her spine had been replaced with an iron rod, she couldn’t have sat any straighter. Everything felt so foreign. The people weren’t just dressed differently, they spoke differently and moved differently.
Finally Pamela came and she was so polished and elegant that Cassidy felt like a complete country bumpkin. She’d never thought to get gel nails. Or to wear jewelry. Not that she owned anything as chic as the chunky silver necklace and bracelet that looked so great with Pamela’s black suit.
Those little touches make all the difference, she thought. And then she reminded herself, It’s about your brain. Okay?
She was given a tour of the offices. Hallways lined with oil paintings, board rooms with sleek furniture and views that spread out to the Beartooth Mountains.
She was introduced to people she’d never remember. There was a little banter and quite a few smiles, but mostly people were very serious.
Fifteen minutes later, she was in an accounting partner’s office. He looked about Farley’s age, but was as different as could be from the country veterinarian. Thin brown hair, trendy glasses, an expensive suit that fit his slender build as if it had been sewn in place.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cassidy,” said Mr. Cushman—not the Cushman for whom the business had been named, but a nephew, Pamela had explained in a whisper a few minutes earlier.
“Thank you. I’m happy to be here, too.”
He shuffled papers on his desk. “With the downturn in the economy we only have room for three articling students this year. If I was going on marks alone, you’d be a shoo-in.”
Cassidy swallowed nervously, then managed a slight smile.
“But we have to see how you’ll fit in here. That’s why we asked you to come and look around, meet a few people.”
They chatted for about ten minutes. Cassidy thought he seemed impresse
d that she knew the names of the firm’s biggest clients and was up-to-date on local business news.
This was all research she’d done a month ago before the first interview.
Then he invited her to lunch. They were joined by a couple of articling students who’d been hired last year, and went to eat at a posh restaurant with names of things on the menu that she didn’t recognize and waiters so attentive they folded her napkin on her chair when she went to the restroom.
At the conclusion of the meal she and Pamela had a final chat. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Cassidy. The partners will be making their final decision in a couple of weeks and I’ll phone you as soon as I know.”
Chapter Twelve
Cassidy decided to spend the night in Billings, rather than drive home right away. The day had taken a lot of energy out of her. She wandered the streets, finding a charming area with shops and restaurants. She picked up a slice of pizza from a take-out place and found a bench where she could relax and people-watch.
She didn’t need to be alone. She could have called Josh or one of her other friends. But she was too worried that if they started comparing notes about their interviews, she would discover hers hadn’t gone as well as she thought it had.
Around eight o’clock she went back to the motel room, watched some TV, then went to sleep. She was up early the next day, on the road by seven, and home just before ten.
Her mother happened to be locking the front door when Cassidy pulled up to her parking spot. But as usual, her warmest welcome came from her dog. Sky was as amazed and delighted to see her as if she’d been gone for a month.
Cassidy was pleased to see her wound was healing nicely and her eyes were bright and lively.
After giving Sky one last scratch, she straightened. “Hi, Mom.”
Olive was dressed in working clothes—jeans, shirt, old boots and a bandana at her neck. This could mean only one thing. Corb had organized a big work party to push the cattle farther north.
“How was the interview?”
“I’m not sure. I have to wait a few weeks now for them to decide.” She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then tugged her bandana lightly. “I take it you’re going with the guys to move cattle?”
Olive nodded. “We’ll be camping out tonight, home around dinnertime tomorrow.” She hesitated. “Want to come along? Dave is staying back to keep an eye on the animals. He knows to feed Sky. And check in on Finn.”
Dave was one of the extra hands B.J. had hired after Brock’s death. And he’d turned out to be a reliable worker, from what Corb and Jackson said. But Cassidy didn’t want to leave the care of her animals to someone who wasn’t family.
Normally staying back from a trip like this would have been a major sacrifice. Without a doubt, Cassidy’s happiest childhood memories were the family trail rides when they’d moved the cattle up to higher elevations where the grass was just coming in nice and thick. The days were long but there was always time to enjoy the scenery, be amused by the cattle’s antics, and indulge in late-night conversations around a campfire.
But that wasn’t for her. Not this year, anyway.
“No. I’m tired. And I have things to do.”
“Things like what?” Her mother sounded cautious.
“Just things, Mom. You go and have fun. I’ll take care of business around here.”
* * *
CASSIDY QUICKLY CHANGED into regular work clothes, then went to the home barn to see everyone off on the trail ride. There were bedrolls behind the saddles and a couple of extra horses carried the tents and food supplies. She felt another pang of regret. Nothing tasted better than a meal cooked over a campfire.
“Sure you don’t want to join us?” Corb asked. “We can wait while you saddle up.”
“That’s okay.” She looked over the crew. Besides her mother and Corb, there was also Jackson and three hired wranglers. “What are Laurel and the baby doing while you’re away?”
“She’s gone to Highwood to visit Winnie and the baby. Eugenia, Vince and Dawn are holding down the fort at the café while she’s gone.”
Five minutes later they were off and Cassidy headed for the open barn door. She passed Dave Crosby at the boot dip, on his way out.
A smile broke on his weathered thirtyish face. “Hey, you’re back. That’s good. I was just heading over to check the new calves and moms in the cattle barn, but I’m kind of worried about that mustang of yours.”
“Finnegan? What’s the problem?”
“Well, shortly after you left on Wednesday he went off his food.”
“I thought Corb was looking after him?”
“Yeah, well, your brother asked me to look in on him. And I noticed yesterday morning he hadn’t touched his oats. Not today, either.”
“But I wasn’t feeding him oats. There was this special formula. I left the instructions on a sheet in the feed room.”
Dave scratched behind his ear. “Well, I didn’t see those. And no one told me any different. So I fed him oats, same as we usually do.”
“Okay, Dave.” She put a hand on his arm, then nodded for him to go. “I’ll handle it from here.”
She wasn’t going to blame him, and not Corb, either. She shouldn’t have left Finnegan. It was as simple as that.
She hurried inside and was not happy at what she saw. Finnegan was visibly thinner and weaker. “Hey, boy, what’s the problem?” She patted him down carefully. His belly had swollen, but she couldn’t find any of the pustules around his neck or throat the way she had with Lucy and Chickweed.
Obviously, she had been wrong to assume he was out of the woods.
She went to mix up the gruel that she’d fed him with success before, but today he would have none of it. Not even a bite.
“Oh, Finn. You need to eat. I can see how weak you are.”
Finn just snorted and looked at her with the saddest set of horse eyes she’d ever seen.
She moved Finn to a fresh stall, offered him water and feed again, but he still refused to eat. Feeling desperate, she called Farley’s cell phone number. He didn’t answer and the call was routed through to his office.
“Farley & Sons,” said Liz Moffat.
“Hey, Liz, this is Cassidy out at Coffee Creek. My mustang has taken a turn for the worse.” She’d been so sure he was getting better. There was no way she would have left him if she’d thought he might have a setback. “He hasn’t eaten in a few days and he seems awfully weak. Do you think this is a complication from the strangles?”
“I couldn’t say. But I do know that last test came up positive, so he still has the bacteria.” Liz’s voice had been cool at first, but now she sounded genuinely concerned. “Unfortunately Farley’s on the Double D again today, working out in the fields where cell phone reception can be spotty.”
“Oh, heck and darn...”
“Isn’t it always the way?” Liz agreed. “But if I can be sure of anything, it’s this. Once Farley gets your message, he’s going to be there to help you as soon as humanly possible. Maybe even five minutes faster than that.”
* * *
CASSIDY TURNED ON the radio to keep them company, set out a water dish for Sky and made herself a pot of coffee. There wasn’t much she could do for Finnegan, but give him a lot of TLC.
And wait for Farley. He’d know what to do when he got there. They just had to be patient.
But the sun was skimming the tops of the western ranges by the time she heard his truck pulling up to the barn.
Dave had left for home two hours ago. He’d asked if he could do anything to help before he headed off but she’d said not to worry.
“The vet will be here soon.”
She had the door to the barn open, hoping the fresh air might help Finnegan. The horse was lying down in his stall now—and had been for about three hours. She watched as Farley climbed out of his truck. He looked tired as he lugged his vet bag out of the passenger seat and he held his head kind of low, so she couldn’t see his eyes from benea
th the rim of his hat until he was almost beside her.
And when their gazes finally did connect, she saw the same cool, dispassionate look he’d had a month ago when they’d happened into the café at the same time.
Farley didn’t say hello or ask about her trip. He looked from her, to her horse, then turned on one of the lights and moved into the stall. “How long since he’s eaten?”
“It sounds like he hasn’t had anything since I left for Billings on Wednesday.” She squeezed her hands nervously together as she waited for Farley to do his thing.
He had his stethoscope around his neck and a rectal thermometer in his hand. After fifteen minutes, he heaved a heavy sigh. “Well, he’s still running that fever. And I don’t like the sound of his heart. See the way he’s sticking his legs out?”
She nodded. She’d never noticed Finn rest in that position before.
“That tells me he’s in pain. My guess is that the strangles bacteria has progressed to his vital organs.” Farley ran a hand over Finnegan’s stomach. “See that swelling? It probably hurts him to eat.”
“Poor Finn.” She knelt on the soft bedding and wrapped her arms around Finnegan’s neck. The horse gave no reaction, but close like this, she could hear the labored sound of his breathing. “So what do we do?”
Farley didn’t answer.
The truth crept in slowly with the inevitability of the sun setting behind the mountains. And with it came a pain and a sorrow that Cassidy already had too much familiarity with.
She’d been fifteen when her father died.
Twenty-four when Brock was killed in the accident.
And now it was Finnegan’s turn.
Just a horse, some might say. But he’d been family. And one of the last links she still had to her dad.
Farley sat down a few feet from her, leaning his back against the side wall of the stall. He watched Finnegan for a while, then he looked at her.
Cassidy didn’t want to see the sympathy in his eyes. She bent her head close to Finn’s and murmured words that she hoped were comforting. “Don’t be scared, Finn. I’m not leaving you again.”
Her Cowboy Dilemma Page 14