Her Montana Cowboy

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Her Montana Cowboy Page 8

by Jeannie Watt


  “Sometimes a short run isn’t a bad thing,” Kate pointed out. “Like you said, you can use the time to get your thoughts in order. Decide your next move. What’s your partner like?”

  “He’s Grandpa’s age.” Once married to my grandmother. She wasn’t ready to talk about that yet. “He runs a bar in town. His nephew runs the ranch.”

  “So why didn’t you know about him?”

  There was no easy way to answer that question. “As I understand it, Grandpa and Thad started the ranch together, then they split and Grandpa went to Texas.”

  “The guy ain’t talking,” Kate guessed.

  “Mr. Hawkins hasn’t exactly been a well of information.” Unlike his nephew. She was grateful to know the truth. It helped her as she figured out how to handle things.

  There was a silence on the other end of the phone, and then Kate said, “The thing that worries me about you staying is that you know nothing about these people.”

  “They have no records of arrest.” She’d researched Thaddeus Hawkins before leaving Texas, and she’d researched his nephew the night before. Montanan through and through. Former bull rider. Part owner of the Shamrock Pub. “There’s nothing to set off red flags, and honestly? I’ll probably just stay a day or two, then come home.” Face the music. And Andrew, who wanted to talk to her.

  She forced a smile into her voice. “How are the kids and your mom doing? How are you doing?”

  “You aren’t fooling me with the change of subject. Just so you know.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I miss you guys.”

  “We miss you, too. And even though Mom is moving in, you know we can find room for you.”

  Lillie Jean couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. As if there were an inch of spare space in her friend’s house. “Thank you, Kate. I appreciate that, but I’m going to pack my stuff and get out of your hair as soon as I get back. That way your mom won’t have to sleep in the bathtub.”

  “I’m serious. We’ll find room.”

  “I know.” And that was why she loved her best friend.

  * * *

  GUS HAD A LOT on his to-do list that day. The tractor needed servicing, and he wanted to ride the northern border fence, which was only accessible by horse or four-wheeler. Lillie Jean’s presence put a halt to all work that day, but the more he thought about it, the more Thad’s strategy made sense. Why alienate the woman, or send her off to Texas? Why not keep her close, so they had a fighting chance of being in the loop as she made decisions? If she turned out to be trouble, better to know now than later.

  And, as Thad had reminded him more than once, she had a right to stay. She could demand to stay. Gus propped his elbows on the table and massaged his forehead with his fingertips. Yes. Communication was key, as was developing a friendly working relationship. Too bad he’d started off their relationship by insinuating that she wasn’t on the up-and-up. Injuring her forehead hadn’t earned him any points, either.

  Time for damage control.

  He wasn’t good at damage control. In the bar, he simply kicked out patrons who became rowdy or uncooperative. He didn’t try to talk them into seeing things his way. Not for long, anyway. Arguing with someone who’d drank too much was like arguing with a dog—only you had a better chance of coming to an understanding with a dog.

  The coffeepot gave its last gurgling gasp as Lillie Jean opened the bedroom door and started down the hall to the kitchen. She’d made a phone call—he’d heard the muffled rise and fall of her voice through the walls—and he figured he’d discover the effect it’d had on her decision to stay within the next few minutes. Henry trotted over to him and sat, staring up at him with his shiny eyes. It was like he had some kind of magnetic power, because every time he was near, Gus felt like crouching down and petting him.

  Lillie Jean stopped just inside the door, looking first at the coffeepot and then at Gus.

  “You guys drink a lot of coffee.”

  “Habit. It kept me awake when I worked the ranch during the day, then pulled the second shift at the pub.” He raised his eyebrows politely. “Want some?”

  “Sure. I probably won’t be sleeping tonight anyway.”

  Gus let the remark pass as he got up to pour coffee into a fresh mug for Lillie Jean and refilled his own.

  Once he was seated, he lightly cupped one fist in the other. Where to begin?

  “Maybe we should give each other some background?” he asked. “Learn a little about one another?” Awkward, but a beginning.

  “Kind of like speed dating?” Lillie Jean asked blandly.

  “I wouldn’t know.” He hadn’t had time for dating, speed or otherwise.

  “You go first.”

  The ball had landed in his court faster than he’d expected. “I...uh...” Hate this.

  Lillie Jean frowned at him. “I thought bartenders were good conversationalists.”

  “No. We’re good listeners.” Gus blew out a breath and gripped his fist more tightly as he addressed the table instead of Lillie Jean. “I was born in southwest Oregon. I was a holy terror and my dad got custody when my parents divorced. My mom remarried and kind of disappeared from my life. My dad got killed in a logging accident when I was fifteen and I came to live with Thad here in Montana. Thad didn’t put up with any of my angry teenager crap, so I turned out to be a fairly decent human being.”

  When he finished he raised his gaze and found Lillie Jean staring at him. She cleared her throat. “Succinct.”

  Gus gas a small shrug. “Like I said. I’m a listener, not a talker.”

  “What did you do after becoming a decent human being? College?”

  “I went to college at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, so that I could rodeo on the college team. I quit after two years, went pro bull riding. Had a decent, if undistinguished, career and now I’m back home.” It kind of hurt to say home. “I used my earnings to buy into the Shamrock and became Thad’s partner. I planned to trade my half of the Shamrock to Thad as a down payment on half interest in the ranch after Sal retired, but now that is all up in the air.”

  Lillie Jean’s lips parted, and then she pressed them shut again.

  “Your turn.” He released his cupped fist and reached for his mug.

  She cocked her head. “It’s kind of amazing how that all just fell out of your mouth.”

  Gus gave another shrug. He liked to get things over with. Hated unfinished business, which was yet another reason having the ranch in limbo ate at him. How did one move toward the future when the present was messed up?

  “I won’t be so smooth.” Lillie Jean took her first sip of coffee, then set the cup back down. “I was born and raised in suburbia. Unlike you, my dad was never in the picture. My mom never made that an issue. I had a super supportive and excellent childhood. Grandpa...” She hesitated, then pushed on. “Grandpa did all the male role model stuff and he was good. Grandma was there for me when Mom wasn’t. They’re all gone now.”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a clothing designer.”

  “You work for a company?”

  “I started out working for a clothing company, then I branched out on my own. My ex-fiancé, another...friend, I guess...and I started a vintage clothing store and online business. High-end stuff. He searched out the clothing. I did repairs, and eventually started designing and sewing retro-inspired pieces. One-of-a-kinds. They sold well, especially with the music people from Austin, and eventually became the mainstay of our business.”

  “You could support yourself doing that?”

  “Yes. Business was good. The sewing got to be more than I could handle, so we hired a lady to do the repairs and I did the designs. Taia—our partner—and I sewed the pieces.”

  “You said ex-fiancé.” Which might explain why Lillie Jean had showed up out of the blue.

 
“Yes.” She met his eyes in a way that told him she wasn’t comfortable with the subject, but she wasn’t going to avoid it either.

  “And you mentioned earlier that your business partners forced you out.”

  “My ex wasn’t keen on working with me after he dumped me.”

  Bluntly spoken, but he could see that it cost her. She was still dealing with the aftermath of what had happened to her.

  “I’m guessing,” he said slowly, “that you’re not going back to much in Texas.”

  “That pretty much sums it up.”

  “You have a right to stay here, you know. For as long as you like.”

  “So you can keep an eye on me?”

  Gus’s eyes narrowed as she hit the bull’s-eye first guess. She was sharp, and he saw no reason to hedge. “Maybe.”

  One corner of her full mouth tightened, making a faint dimple appear in one cheek, totally at odds with her humorless expression. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”

  “You’re not exactly an enemy.”

  “I’m not a friend, either.”

  “You could be.”

  She shook her head as if that was totally impossible. Had he been that much of a jerk to her earlier? Maybe. That was where damage control came in.

  He watched as she thought over his proposal, a faint frown drawing her dark eyebrows together. She had a delicate appearance, and may not know crap about ranching, but she was tough. She’d been ready to take him out with a tire iron the night before if he tried anything and she’d never said a word about the wound on her forehead after they’d finished doctoring it.

  “If you stayed here, you’d have to pull your weight, of course.”

  Her gaze snapped up. He wasn’t certain why he’d said what he just said, but it seemed to have a positive effect.

  “Yes. I will,” she answered in a cold voice.

  Lillie Jean was motivated by challenge. Good to know.

  “After you learn what to do?” Gus asked softly.

  “There may be a learning curve.”

  He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table. Waited. Lillie Jean wrapped her hands around the coffee mug. “Maybe we should just get everything out into the open. Do you plan to sell your interest in the ranch?”

  “I need the money. A lump sum, not a trickle.”

  Gus gave a silent nod. She wasn’t telling him anything he hadn’t already suspected.

  She raised her blue eyes to meet his, her expression sincere as she said, “I’d give you first refusal.”

  He snorted before he could catch himself. “That’s not in the cards unless I qualify for a big loan.” And if he could sell his half of the Shamrock for enough money to make the kind of down payment a lending institution might require.

  Her eyes flashed. “I didn’t create this situation.”

  “I’m aware.” He wasn’t going to make things better by putting her back up. “It could take years to sell,” he said quietly. Or days. His gut tightened. All it took was the right buyer to come along on the right day.

  “I would like to learn about the ranch. Educate myself. As you say, it may be mine for years.” She spoke grimly, making him believe that she did indeed need the money.

  “Which means we’d be partners for years.”

  “Which means we should develop a business relationship.”

  “Agreed.”

  Lillie Jean unclasped her hands and laid her palms flat on the table. “I’m starting over, Gus. I got squeezed out of my business and, other than the original investment price, I came out with next to nothing. I want to start a new business. It’s what I need to do.”

  “So you’ll sell the ranch to finance.”

  “I’m not going into partnership again...except for this one, of course. In the future, it’s just me.”

  From the way she spoke, he had a feeling that she was talking more than business. Gus pushed his untouched coffee aside. “Because your ex-fiancé squeezed you out of the business you started together.”

  Lillie Jean gave a silent nod.

  “Heck of a guy.”

  Her lips tightened, but she made no response. He couldn’t really blame her. His gaze strayed up to the bruise that had formed beneath the butterfly adhesive on her forehead. She started to lift her hand, as if to touch the spot, then stopped herself. Lillie Jean did not like to show weakness.

  “I guess I told you all this so that you would understand why I might behave cautiously in a partnership. I’ve been burned. I don’t want to get burned again.”

  “We’ll be fair, Lillie Jean. All we ask is that you be fair with us.”

  She glanced down at the table, the corners of her mouth tightening, once again bringing out the dimple. “Then I guess we want the same things.” She raised her gaze, met his dead on.

  “Guess so.”

  She pulled in a breath and once again fixed those incredible blue-green eyes on him. “I hope you understand why the relationship between us will be business only.”

  “As opposed to...?”

  “Becoming friends, Gus. I’m not falling into that trap with a business partner again.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  AFTER LILLIE JEAN drew her no-friendship line in the sand, Gus’s expression shifted in a way that made her want to know what he was thinking. Probably something along the lines of “like we’d ever become friends.” Good. Even though her stomach was tight, as it always was after confrontation, she didn’t regret her flat statement. There was an advantage to a civil, yet distant relationship—decisions would be based on facts, not swayed by emotions. And while she might study her cowboy partner, and catalog details, make discoveries and assumptions about him, she wouldn’t be getting any closer. How could she, and keep her pride, after laying things out so definitively?

  “Is that house next door habitable?”

  Gus’s eyebrows drew together. “Sal moved out six weeks ago.”

  “Could I live there? While I’m here?” Because, while there were advantages to staying on the ranch for the time being, the intimacy of sharing a house with this cowboy made her feel uncomfortable. The prospect of bumping into him on the way to the bathroom, sharing a kitchen table...yeah...not something she wanted to contend with on a daily basis. Not when being around him made her nerves tingle in a way that made it hard to relax.

  “I’d have to see how much propane is in the tank, but if we have the ability to heat the place better than its being heated right now, I can’t think of a reason why you couldn’t stay there.” In fact, he looked kind of relieved at the idea, as if he’d been considering the intimacy issue himself. “I have some business to attend to,” he said abruptly, pushing the chair back and getting to his feet. “Feel free to eat whatever you find in the freezer.”

  “The freezer?”

  “The lasagna was the last of the real food. All I have left are frozen dinners.”

  “I’ll pay you back.”

  He gave her a bemused look. “If you want. Or you can work it off.”

  Was he making fun of her? Or maybe she was a touch oversensitive after hanging herself out there, letting go with her secrets. “Got peanut butter?”

  “In the cupboard next to the fridge.”

  “I’ll make a sandwich.” There was a loaf of bread on the counter.

  “Suit yourself. I won’t be gone long.” He headed toward the mudroom, grabbed his coat, pulled keys off the rack and let himself out of the house. Lillie Jean watched through the kitchen window as he went to his truck and got inside. The sun had just disappeared behind the mountains, and she couldn’t help but wonder what chore took him out so close to dark.

  Lillie Jean let herself out of the house via the mudroom to walk the short distance to the house next door. The yard light lit the driveway as she made her way dow
n the walk and out the gate. A gray cat blinked at her from under the porch as she approached the house, making her glad she’d left a mournful Henry in Gus’s kitchen. Henry fancied himself a cat hunter, but the two times he’d actually cornered a gnarly neighborhood kitty, he’d come out on the bottom and her grandfather had spent days putting salve on the scratches on his nose.

  The old house looked just this side of haunted as she climbed the three creaky steps. Were there ghosts on the property? Lillie Jean did not believe in ghosts, but she did believe that houses held energy generated from the feelings within. Love and laughter made even the humblest house feel good, while more negative emotions could turn a mansion into a mausoleum. It worked both ways, of course. She flicked on the light and stepped into the empty living room, shutting the door behind her, and then she stood, soaking in the atmosphere. Nope. Not haunted. Not sad. Just...waiting.

  And cold. She could almost see her breath. Hopefully there was propane in the tank. She took a couple more steps into the living room, hugging her arms around her and wrinkling her nose as the musty smell became stronger. Her footsteps echoed as she slowly explored the tiny house. The kitchen was small, with next to no counter space, but the midcentury appliances gave it a funky retro look. Right up her alley.

  She traveled on to the bathroom with its black and white tile. Someone had painted the room a white so white that it kind of hurt the eyes. On to the bedroom. There was no bed. Sal must have taken it with him. Lillie Jean wondered if Gus had a bed stowed somewhere? Did he expect her to come up with one? If so, she’d sleep on the floor—after a good scrubbing, of course. In the hall between the rooms was a pull cord for attic steps, but Lillie Jean didn’t pull it. That was private space. The final room was small with a north facing window. If she’d been a painter, it would have made a cute little studio. As it was, it would make a nice place to sew.

  If she could bring herself to sew. She hadn’t touched her machine, except to finish two contracted jobs, since Andrew had dropped his bombshell. It was as if her creativity had withered after Andrew destroyed her trust. She hadn’t so much as taken out her sketchbook, hadn’t searched eBay for vintage pattern inspiration.

 

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