Rocky Mountain Cowboy

by S A Monk

  ∞∞∞

  Jack Higgins had been her father’s attorney and friend for as long as Jenny could remember. He’d been at the funeral, and Jenny had talked to him briefly then. In the her father’s study, the lawyer sat behind Tom Fletcher’s big oak desk, while Jenny sat in one of the leather arm chairs in front of the desk. The one beside her was empty for the moment as Hawk paced restlessly behind it.

  It quickly became apparent that their attorney was familiar with the will. Jenny watched both Mr. Higgins and Hawk. While listening to the legal introduction, she again wondered if Tom had known of his heart condition when he had the will drawn up. Why else would he have it created so close to his death? It grieved her enormously to think he had borne the knowledge, the fear, and probably the pain alone, instead of letting her share it with him.

  Sadly, there was no way to really know under what circumstances it had been written. Nor did it really matter now. What was done was done. There was no reversing time, and at this point, speculation was useless.

  But he had made his final wishes known. Tom had left half of the ranch to her and half to Hawk, but he wanted them to establish a new partnership, patterned off of the one Tom and Hawk had shared.

  In accordance with that, Jack Higgins went over the terms of Tom’s partnership agreement with Hawk. The attorney explained there had been an equal division of all the Bar F/Bar L’s land, livestock, outbuildings, machinery, crop production, and breeding program. Everything that had to do with the ranch’s operation and function had been equally shared. All expenses and profits were equally shared. All management and most of the labor had been equally shared, although as Tom got older, Hawk had taken over nearly all of the hard physical labor.

  The exemptions to that agreement, made six years ago between the two men, had been the main house, which had been paid off by then and had remained solely in Tom’s name, personal vehicles, which included Hawk’s truck, horse trailer, and airplane, and any personal property, such as Hawk’s horse. The partnership had been straight forward and fairly simple; essentially a fifty-fifty split of most everything.

  But all of that had been dissolved by Tom’s death. The attorney went on to explain that the law gave Jenny, as Tom’s heir, and Hawk, as the surviving partner, ninety days to make arrangements with one another before it came in and formally dissolved the partnership.

  Tom left his daughter his interest in the partnership, the house, and any of his personal belongings she wanted. The attorney further explained that her interest in the partnership amounted to the monetary value of Tom’s half of the business as determined by what he would have received for it had he liquidated prior to his death, or fifty percent of a sale of the entire business. Because Tom had owned the house outright, it would be hers, but if she chose not to keep it, Tom had asked her to give Hawk the first right of purchase. He had also asked her to give Hawk the right to buy out her interest in the ranch, if she chose not to form a partnership with him. If Hawk could not come up with the money to do that all at once, Tom had asked her to grant him a deferred payment arrangement.

  Her father indicated in his will that he wanted to be fair to both of them and not force either into decisions they couldn’t live with. He told Jenny, in a statement he made within the will, that it was his desire that she come home and be a partner in the operation of the ranch; that she continue the partnership agreement he had with Hawk. Because it was his understanding that her job allowed her to perform it from any location, Tom thought she might be able to continue her career while living here. But if she felt she couldn’t do that, she might consider a new partnership arrangement with Hawk.

  She asked the attorney what her dad was referring to, and he told her about her other option. She could form a limited partnership with Hawk, in which he would be the general partner. He would operate and manage the ranch, and she would have a limited interest and participation. Every year she would then receive a limited share of the profits. Her interest would be like an investor’s. She didn’t have to be a working partner.

  At the conclusion of his explanation, Mr. Higgins handed Jenny a letter sealed in an envelope. He told her Tom had given it to him at the time the will had been completed, with instructions to give it to her when the will was read. Since he had been told it was a private message from her father, he suggested she read it at her leisure. Jenny cast a quick, inquiring look at Hawk.

  He looked as surprised as her. “I knew nothing of this,” he explained, nodding to the envelope she held in trembling fingers.

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she bit her lower lip to stem the flow. “I’ll read it later,” she said quietly, tucking it in the pocket of her sweater.

  “You have 90 days to decide what you two want to do,” Jack Higgins advised as sympathetically as he could. “Take your time. Talk over the options. See what works for both of you. Just don’t leave the decision to day 89,” he further advised with a chuckle. “Papers have to be filed with the county clerk and court by day 90.”

  “We’ll get back to you before then, I’m sure, Jack,” Hawk responded as he stepped over to shake the attorney’s hand and walk him to the door. “Thank you for coming to the house, instead of making us go to your office.”

  Jenny rose from her chair more slowly. “Thank you, Mr. Higgins. I know how much my dad liked you, personally and professionally.”

  Taking her hand in both his, he gave her a kind smile, then turned to walk with Hawk out of the room.

  Jenny sank back down into the over-stuffed arm chair and withdrew the envelope from her pocket. Her fingers trembled as she tore open the seal. By the end of the first paragraph, fresh tears were pouring down her cheeks.

  Her father’s last words to her were lovingly clear. He spoke from his heart to hers. By the time she was finished, she felt physically touched by him; as if he had been sitting with her in his study, telling her of his love for her, talking to her about what he wanted for her future, patting her hand. It gave her an amazing amount of peace and comfort. It also gave her a lot to think about.

  Her father’s desires were clearly stated, as they had been in the will, but he left her room for personal choice also. A final decision regarding the forming of a partnership with John Red Hawk Larson was not something she was capable of just yet, though. Business decisions should be made with a clear head, and hers was anything but clear at the moment.

  She needed to reacquaint herself with her childhood home; to learn more about this man her father had loved as a son. In the letter, her father had asked that she take some time to do just that. She owed herself and her father that much. She probably owed Mr. Larson that much, too.

  When Hawk returned to the study, he was once again carrying two mugs of Irish coffee. Jenny had managed to compose herself by then. She took one of the mugs from him with a grateful smile. With his in hand, he sat on the edge of the desk, facing her, one long leg braced on the floor, one hooked over the oak corner.

  “Your medicinal magic again?”

  “I wish it would take away all your pain.” His intense blue eyes noted the recent track of tears on her cheeks and the opened letter in her lap. “Did it help?”

  Jenny smiled faintly. “Yes, surprisingly, it did.”

  “Good.” He sipped his brandied coffee slowly, regarding her through thick black lashes. “I got to speak one last time to Tom before he died. It’s made me feel real bad that you didn’t. I was hoping he’d left you some kind of final message.”

  “I’m grateful for it, too.” She took a long slow sip of her coffee, then smiled. “A double shot, no less,” she noted, remarking on the strong brandy content of the coffee.

  “I reckoned we both needed it.”

  Lost in her thoughts for a few moments, Jenny stared into the creamy tan color of the drink. Both hands were cupped tightly around the warm mug. “I’m going to stay awhile. Daddy wanted me to take some time....”

  She had a life in Los Angeles— an excellent job, a new business v
enture, a condo, friends. But she’d had a life here once, too. It had been so long ago, but she could still remember how much she had loved it. She had always remained a rancher’s daughter at heart. She didn’t really want to go back to L.A. right now anyway. There was a lot at stake here, a lot to lose if she made thoughtless, selfish decisions. Tom had left her choices, and she needed time to make the right ones.

  “That’s good,” Hawk responded. “But hey, nothing needs to be decided right now. I asked Jack to write down your options regarding the ranch. No one expects you to take in everything he told you tonight and make a decision tomorrow.”

  She stared at his concerned face in consideration. “Peter and I have an oral partnership, so I’m a little familiar with the mechanics of one.” The brandy was potent, rushing through her system, helping her calm and center herself a bit.

  “Well, just in case you’re wondering, there is nothing stopping you from being a partner in both businesses, unless they compete with one another. I don’t think fashions and cows do that.”

  That made her smile. “No, but I don’t know if I want to divide myself like that.” She stared at him thoughtfully. “Do you have the ability, the money, to buy out my interest?” Tom had hinted in his letter that he might not, but she thought she should ask.

  Hawk stared back at her and shook his head. “No, I don’t, and frankly, I’m not likely to within ninety days, either.”

  She nodded. “I could put the money together to buy you out. It might take a month or so, but if you could give me a figure sometime in the next few days, I could start working on it.” She thought he should know she might consider an option the attorney hadn’t mentioned. “I guess my buying you out, though, would depend on how much....”

  “I don’t want to sell my interest, Jenny,” he cut her off. “This has been my home for half my life.”

  Well, she probably couldn’t force him to sell his interest in place, nor did she really want to, for that matter. “What if we sold the entire place and split the profit? You could buy another ranch,” she suggested.

  The anger that gathered swiftly on his face was as vehement as his response to her. “I don’t want another ranch. I could never find a place this good, or one that meant as much to me. My god, do you know what Tom and I had here? It’s one of the best spreads in the valley! And what the hell about the men who work here? Eli is too old to get another job as a ranch hand. He doesn’t have a pension, just his social security. Hank has been here a long time, too. And I can tell you, the man who would want to buy this place wouldn’t want it for ranch land. Brad Caldwell wants to subdivide it— to build a goddamned resort and golf course up at the northwestern end, by the hot springs, then to put vacation condos and homes all around it. Is that what you want to see happen to the ranch your dad spent a lifetime working his butt off for?”

  Jenny felt so bad, she wished the floor would open up and swallow her. She hadn’t meant to sound thoughtless or callous. It had to be her exhaustion that had prompted her to make such a tactless, narrow-sighted suggestion. Her father’s partner had been so considerate this past week, and now she’d made him furious. Damn!

  “I’m sorry.” The apology sounded so inadequate. She tried to repair any damage she’d done. “I thought it might be an option you’d want me to consider— that maybe you’d want a place of your own now.” The damn tears were back, and it made her angry. She didn’t want this man to think she was an emotional wreck all the time. Setting her coffee down on the end table next to the chair, she rubbed her forehead with her fingertips, then brushed away the tears, trying to get control of herself.

  “This place is very important to me, like it was to your dad. I don’t want anything else.” Hawk moved in front of her and sank into a a squat before her. Reaching out, he pried her hands away from her face, brushing her remaining tears away with his thumbs. “Jenny, don’t cry,” he coaxed, framing her face with his large hands. “It’s not necessary to discuss any of this tonight. You don’t need to make any decisions right away. We have time,” he reassured her. “Let me show you around the ranch. Give yourself time to get reacquainted with the place. I also think some hard work might be a better remedy than my brandied coffees. At least you’d be too tired to hurt so badly. And believe me, I could sure use your help. I’ve got a backlog of work, and fall round up is around the corner. Can you give me two or three weeks? I’ll take longer, if you can spare the time.”

  Jenny wanted to find out if the ranch would feel like home without her dad. Once, sixteen years ago, the Bar F had been very important to her. Was it still, without her father? She needed to find out. If she didn’t, she would always wonder.

  “Yes, I can give you two or three weeks, maybe longer,” she decided, instantly feeling better for having made at least that decision. “But I’m not certain what I can do or want to do beyond that.”

  “Fair enough. The right decision will come to you in time.” He sounded and looked so certain, she hoped he was right. “Now, let me clean up down here. You should go to bed. I’m going to be knocking on your door bright and early tomorrow morning. We need to bring in the bales of hay that are still in the lower fields, then get them stacked in the yard, for winter use and for sale. Wear your new gear, especially your gloves. Haying is hard work,” he warned her as he picked up the coffee cups. Hawk followed her out of the study with one final instruction. “Set your alarm clock for five.”

  She swung around in shock. “Five a.m.?”

  “You got it, Sleeping Beauty,” he laughed. “No more dozing half the day away.”

  “Oh Lord!” she exclaimed. “The sun isn’t even up that early.”

  “No, but ranchers are,” he said as he went through the doorway to the kitchen with the two empty coffee mugs.

  CHAPTER 6

  At five a.m. Jenny really didn’t give a damn if the sun was up or not. Her eyes were barely open, even after showering and dressing. In the kitchen, she grabbed a cup of coffee and one of the cinnamon rolls Eli had made and left on the counter top. Wandering outside, she sank into one of the cushioned rockers on the wide wrap-around porch. By the time she finished her roll, the sun began to peak over the eastern mountain range. The vision of gold was almost worth getting up to see, she mused grouchily as she licked the cinnamon flavored icing from her fingers.

  Across the yard, Hawk was putting a thermos of coffee, a water jug, and some gear into the cab of an old, battered, flatbed truck. He looked over at her and waved. He also looked wide awake and eager to get started. Jenny groaned. She was not a morning person, and this was undoubtedly going to be a very long day.

  ∞∞∞

  There were four fields below the mountain ridge the house and outbuildings sat on, all planted in grass, oat, and alfalfa seed for hay production. Two were on the upper hillside of the highway that bisected the valley, and two were across it, in the valley, along the edges of the Arkansas River.

  The little town of of Winthrop, where Tom was buried, was a few miles to the north, and there were places on the way down the side of the mountain where one could catch a glimpse of the tiny community, as well as a panorama of the valley.

  They headed to the farthest field first. “We’ve harvested enough hay to feed our cattle through the winter, and some extra to sell. Now that it’s cut and baled, we have to get it up to the house to stack and cover so it stays dry. Hopefully that rain the other day didn’t do too much damage,” Hawk informed her as he drove across the bumpy dirt field to a spot near the river, under the shade of a stand of cotton wood trees.

  Jenny looked out the front windshield at all the rows of baled hay. Big square bundles sat ready to load. The flat bed of the truck was wide and long, but she wondered how many trips back and forth they’d have to make to get this field cleared.

  “We’re running behind schedule this year. Here it is nearly fall, and I still have to clear all four fields. I sent Hank and Steve out to work on one of the upper fields today, but I imagine they w
ill all take the better part of a week to finish.”

  She looked over at him and let her gaze linger on his ruggedly attractive face. He was staring out the front window, distracted by his thoughts, but she could see the lines of worry on his features. “Daddy’s death hasn’t helped,” she provided sympathetically, understanding. “I imagine a week during such a busy time of the year is really costly.”

  Hawk turned to her. Not for the first time this morning, he let his eyes wander over her in admiration. In her new work clothes, she looked a lot less like a Hollywood fashion plate and a lot more like a very pretty cowgirl. He liked the transformation. It made her seem more approachable, more like she belonged here. And he was discovering that it wasn’t just Tom’s desires he was trying to fulfill. He wanted her to stay as much as Tom had.

  “It wasn’t really Tom’s death that put us behind. We’ve had a few problems lately. Our tractor went down while Steve was baling, and it took a couple of weeks to get the parts to fix it. Then the baler gave out, and we had to buy a new one. That really put us back, but we finally got the baling done, so now we gotta hustle to get it all picked up and stacked in the yard where we can keep it dry.

  Jenny frowned. “Eli mentioned a few problems. Can I help?”

  Hawk’s scowl was clearly etched with angry frustration by that point. “I’ve got a handle on them, for now,” he replied impatiently, then gave her a hard-won half grin. “But I can really use an extra pair of hands about now, like I told you last night.”

  A rueful grimace was all she could offer. “It’s been awhile since I’ve done ranch work, but I’m hoping I still remember how, and that I haven’t gotten too soft.”

  “All any of us can do is try, Jenny.”

  His words of encouragement were received with silent gratitude and the ardent hope that she wouldn’t disappoint him.

  Hawk put the truck in gear again and pulled it between the the first two rows of baled hay. With smooth precision, he put the truck in park, but kept the engine running.