by Jeannie Watt
Instead, Lillie Jean was taught to focus on the positives in life, to set goals and achieve, regardless of circumstances. Her granddad had provided the fatherly stuff, and her mom and grandmother had been her biggest cheerleaders. She’d done well in almost every endeavor she embarked upon. She had to do well—otherwise she would have disappointed her family.
Now she no longer had a family to disappoint, and was still working on fully accepting that fact. No family. No business. Just a big empty future laying ahead of her...and a guy, who wasn’t really her business partner, standing a few feet away from her, watching her through narrowed eyes.
She had a feeling that Gus Hawkins was as stubborn as he accused her of being. That it wasn’t so much that he wanted to be friends, but that he didn’t want to be told they couldn’t be friends. And it did sound kind of unnecessarily strict, and made her seem like a tight ass, which she wasn’t. She was just watching her back, yet the way she was doing it felt wrong.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Maybe I’m being overzealous.” She perched a hip on the cold metal steps of the tractor, wrapping her arms around herself. “But I messed up by trusting when there were clear signs that I shouldn’t have been trusting, and look where I am now.”
“In some of the most beautiful country around? Half owner of a ranch?”
“An emotional wreck.” She moistened her lips, barely believing she’d allowed those words to slip out, then looked past him to the field where they’d fed the cattle that morning. “Maybe not a wreck, but I was blindsided. Lost two things that I loved.”
“Do you still love him?”
She slowly shook her head, her jaw muscles tightening. “I don’t think I knew him. Not all of him. That bothers me. If you’d asked me a couple months ago, I would have sworn that I knew Andrew Landers better than anyone on the planet. But I didn’t. So what does that say about my judgment?” She looked down at her feet as tears filled her eyes.
“Lillie Jean?”
She frowned furiously at the gravel, willing herself to get it together before she looked up at him. Wasn’t happening. All these weeks of holding it together and now she was losing it. In front of an audience. Why?
“I need to keep things on a business level.” She spoke to the gravel in front of her feet, the words coming out from between gritted teeth.
She heard Gus move and glanced up, startled to find him closer than he was before. He reached out and his hand hovered near her shoulder for a split second before he settled it on her shoulder, then slowly drew her into a loose embrace. Lillie Jean held herself stiffly before she let out a shaky breath against the rough canvas of his coat and closed her eyes. But she didn’t move away. Didn’t create the distance that she told herself she needed.
His hand started rubbing slow circles over her back and despite everything—the cold, the circumstances, the insanity of the moment—she felt herself relax. Human contact felt good. And she hadn’t had enough of it lately. Finally, even though she could have stayed exactly where she was for a long, long time, she drew back and looked up at Gus, her heart doing a triple beat as she realized she wanted nothing more than to kiss the gorgeous mouth that wasn’t all that far from her own.
Instead she put her palms against his chest and slowly extricated herself from his embrace. “I...uh...guess I needed a hug. Thanks.”
The expression that crossed his face told her that he wasn’t a bit fooled. He was more than aware that she’d been teetering on the edge of breaking her own edict. But his tone was matter-of-fact as he said, “Anytime.” He took a casual step back and Lillie Jean told herself to get a grip. A hug. Big deal. A near kiss. Nothing she couldn’t handle.
What about the fact that, in spite of all your big talk and good intentions, you wanted to kiss him? What about the fact that you still do?
Lillie Jean’s jaw muscles tightened as she told her little voice to hush. So she had some challenges ahead of her. Tall, rangy, cowboy challenges. Again, nothing she couldn’t handle.
“If we’re done with chores, I have some cleaning to do in the old house.” She didn’t quite meet his eyes as she spoke. Despite her internal pep talk, she felt raw, emotionally naked. What had started as a simple back-and-forth about what their relationship would or would not be had somehow managed to tip her over.
“And I have a bed to get. Do you need anything from town?”
“I think I’ll drive in later. Alone.” He didn’t argue with her. Lillie Jean scuffed the toe of her running shoe through the gravel. “I also think we have more talking to do. About this partnership, I mean.”
He pushed up the brim of his hat with his forefinger like she’d seen cowboys do in the movies. The gesture looked totally natural. “Given our circumstances? Yeah. I think we do have more talking to do.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
GUS PARKED HIS truck in the graveled lot behind the Shamrock Pub. He was proud of what he and Thad had built over the past three years, but he didn’t miss bartending. There had been times when he felt more like a playground monitor than the proprietor of an establishment, and it grated on him. He wasn’t really a people person, whereas Thad loved dealing with the public, and he was good at it. His rules were not to be broken. Those who did, found themselves escorted from the establishment, or banned—sometimes for days, sometimes forever. But since the Shamrock was one of the more popular watering holes in Gavin, very few people allowed to return held a grudge, and those that did were not the type of clientele that the Shamrock was looking for.
Mimi was behind the bar when he walked in through the back door, setting up for opening. She looked up, then grinned at the remains of the lip print.
“Honest, I didn’t know it was indelible ink.”
Gus gave her a dark look. “Honest, you should have checked.”
She laughed. “I would have done it anyway. Looks good on you.”
“Thanks.”
“You know I love you.”
“What do you do to people you don’t love?”
She smiled wickedly and flipped her long red braid over her shoulder. “You don’t want to know.”
No. He did not.
Mimi focused on slicing lemons, keeping her gaze down as she casually said, “You might have escaped the pub in the nick of time, you know.”
Gus stopped. “Why’s that?”
“I heard that Madison is coming back to town.”
Excellent. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“She’s going to look you up. I know she is.”
So did he, because the woman didn’t like losing. Gus’s biggest mistake had been in dumping her before she dumped him. Now he was a challenge.
“Is Thad around?”
“He went to the bank.” Mimi started cutting lemons again. “You can pull up a stool and tell me about life on the ranch while you wait.”
Gus leaned his forearms on the smooth mahogany bar. “It’s about what you’d expect.”
“Boring and labor intensive?” Mimi had grown up on a hardscrabble operation that her family had ultimately lost. She was not a big ranch fan.
“It suits me.” He just hoped he’d still be working the ranch for a while, and not be behind the bar, cutting lemons. “Keeps me out of trouble.”
Mimi put down the knife and leaned her elbows on the bar. “Thad said you had big plans.”
His gut twisted at the mention of his big plans, but Gus did his best to speak as if there was nothing standing in the way of seeing them through. “I have a lot of buildings to re-side and reroof. I want to get the fields back into production. Improve the fences. Start working on a breeding program. Nothing against Sal, but we have calves coming between February and June.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. I’ve only got six left to calve out. I’m selling them all once they’re bred again.”
“Let someone
else have the headaches.”
“Some people like to calve late.” He wasn’t one of them. He wanted the calves on the ground within a thirty-day period. So much easier to manage the herd. Make improvements.
“I hear you have a roommate.” Mimi arched an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah?” Thad had told Mimi about Lillie Jean? Which was akin to telling the world.
“Thad said his partner’s granddaughter was visiting.”
“Yeah. She is.”
“I didn’t know Thad had a partner.”
Join the club. “Kind of a silent partner. He and Thad started the ranch together years ago, then the partner moved to Texas, where it’s warm.”
“Ah.” Mimi went back to her lemons. “I guess everyone has some surprises in their backgrounds.”
Yes. A point that had recently been hammered home to both him and Lillie Jean.
The sound of keys in the front door brought Gus’s head around. Thad let himself in and locked the door again. “Hey,” he said with an easy smile when he saw Gus sitting at the bar. “Grocery run?” His smile might have been easy, but his eyes told a different story. He wanted to know how things were faring on the ranch with Lillie Jean.
“Yep. And there’s a couple of ranch things I wanted to discuss with you before I move forward.”
Thad looked at his watch. “Forty minutes to opening.”
“I got this,” Mimi said easily. “Ginny’s supposed to clock in soon.”
Thad nodded and silently headed to the door leading to the rear entrance of the building and the stairs to the upper story. At the top of the stairs was a narrow hallway with a storeroom at the end and a door leading to two apartments on opposite sides halfway down. Thad opened the door on the left and stepped into his apartment. It was a cozy place. Well kept with shelves and shelves of books.
Gus waited until the door was closed before saying, “I need a bed.”
“Why?”
“Lillie Jean is moving into Sal’s house while she’s here.”
Thad wrinkled his nose. “That musty old place?”
“She says she’s fine with it.”
“So she’s staying longer than a day or two?”
“Yeah. I think she is.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“I hope,” Gus said. He wasn’t convinced of anything at the moment. “She’s talking about keeping things on a business-level, so I guess she’s going to be a partner until she sells. The question is whether she’ll be a partner on the ranch, or in Texas.”
Thad went to the fridge and pulled out a cola and popped the top, took a slug, then set the can on the table. “I’d buy her out if I could.”
“So would I.” Unfortunately, the value of land in their area had skyrocketed over the years. “Maybe we could both sell and settle elsewhere.” Even as the words came out of his mouth, Gus was aware that he didn’t mean them. The H/H had gotten under his skin. He loved the ranch, had dreamed of improving it for years. He was finally in a position to do so and—no, he didn’t want to start again elsewhere. Not unless he had to.
“The sensible side of me agrees with you,” Thad said. “But I lost my wife to Lyle. I don’t want to lose my land, too.”
No matter how this played out, he was going to lose something. Gus just hoped that Thad didn’t find himself partnered with some know-it-all rich guy who wanted things done his way. There were lots of nonranchers with money who wanted to live the life and give the orders. Watch other people jump when they spoke. Their neighbor Carson came instantly to mind.
“You need to make friends with Lillie Jean. Convince her to keep you in the loop. Once we know what she’s going to do, we can figure out what we’re going to do.”
Gus decided not to tell Thad that Lillie Jean had decreed that they would not be friends. There was only so much an old guy should have to take.
“I’d like to talk to Hal Warden and get some advice,” Thad continued, “but you know how the real estate people are in this town. Everyone and their grandma will know that the H/H might be up for grabs if I do that.”
“Yeah,” Gus agreed. “Don’t talk to Hal yet. Let’s wait on Lillie Jean and I’ll do what I can to stay in her good graces.”
“It’d be best if you were in her confidence,” Thad said helpfully.
“No doubt.” Isn’t gonna happen. “Can you give me a hand getting the bed down the stairs? She’ll like us better if she’s not sleeping on the carpet.”
“What’ll you sleep in if you stay in town?”
“I’ll use the blow-up.” Which he didn’t see happening in the near future. Too much to do on the ranch.
Ten minutes later, Thad and Gus had the box spring and mattress wrapped up in his old sheets and loaded into the back of the truck. After sliding the frame in on top, Thad closed the tailgate and leaned an arm on it. “Sheets?”
“We have extra at the ranch.”
“I probably won’t be out for a day or two, seeing as you have help.”
“Give a yell if you need someone to cover a shift.” Although he hoped that didn’t happen. He wanted to stay on the ranch, do what he could while he could, because his days there might be numbered.
“Will do.” Thad gave Gus a nod and headed toward the back entrance of the Shamrock. He was walking slower, favoring the leg that had been smashed during his accident on the trail so many years ago. Thad was showing his age, and Gus couldn’t help but blame the circumstances. And, fair or not, maybe Lillie Jean, too, for showing up out of the blue and giving the old man a shock he didn’t need. He didn’t blame her for showing up—he would have done the same, but he liked to think that he would have given some notice.
She’s dealing with grief. Give her a break.
Thad was dealing with grief, too. Grief she’d stirred up.
Gus was about to open the truck door when someone hailed him, and he instantly tensed at the sound of the authoritarian voice. Crap.
Forcing his features into a bland expression, Gus turned. “Carson.”
Carson Craig strode toward him from where he’d just parked his gleaming black Ford F350—the one with too many bells and whistles to be a respectable ranch rig. But it did its job in the impress-people department, as did the man’s showy western outfit. Ostrich skin boots, leather vest, dark denim jeans with a crease down the center. Gus didn’t know anybody who creased their jeans—except for Carson Craig. In his late thirties and too rich and smug for his own good, the guy made Gus’s annoyance meter redline.
“Hawkins.” Carson was a last name kind of guy, which was why Gus made it a point to always use the man’s first name. “About that fence.”
Gus hooked his thumbs in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. Yes. About that fence.
Carson waited and when he finally realized that Gus wasn’t going to respond, he said with a touch of annoyance, “Have you had a chance to fix it?”
Just say yes.
“The hole was on your half. Therefore, it was your responsibility.” Shortly after Carson had taken over management of his property, after having driven out yet another competent foreman, Gus had taken him to the midpoint of the boundary fence and explained that everything to the right was Gus’s responsibility and everything to left was Carson’s.
Carson remained unconvinced. In his mind, Montana fence law didn’t matter. What mattered was whose animals broke the fence, and as he saw things, those animals always wore the H/H brand and he reiterated his belief for the umpteenth time. “The hole was created by your cattle, which ended up on my property.”
“We don’t know that my cattle created anything. We only know that my cattle wandered through and mingled with your cattle.” Carson’s cattle could have easily broken down the fence. “But I fixed it, so you can breathe easy.”
Carson’s features didn’t relax, even thou
gh he’d just gotten the answer he’d wanted.
“It’s the last time I fix your half,” Gus said.
“We’re neighbors.”
Gus really hoped the guy didn’t go on to say something stupid like, “Good fences make good neighbors.” He didn’t.
“Neighbors shouldn’t become embroiled in legal hassles.” Carson tipped back his expensive beaver cowboy hat and gave Gus a long, hard look.
Gus let out a weary breath. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m saying we need to come to an agreement. If my cattle end up on your property, I’ll fix the fence and vice versa.”
“So...you’re rewriting Montana boundary law.”
“I’m taking a common-sense approach.”
Gus shook his head and reached for his door handle. “Carson, you do what you got to do. I’m not fixing your fence again.”
Ironically, Gus would have maintained the boundary fence in the name of being a good neighbor if Carson had been a good neighbor. The crazy thing was that the guy could be totally charming when he needed to be. He served on local committees and donated hefty sums of money to good causes—the new library fund, the senior center, the afterschool program. Because of that, the locals either liked him or tolerated him. But with Gus and Thad and every guy who’d been hired to manage his ranch, Carson was autocratic. The boss, who was never to be questioned.
Gus didn’t play that game well.
He got into his truck without another word to Carson Craig, closed the door, started the engine. It was only when he’d put the truck in gear that he glanced toward his jerk of a neighbor, who was staring at him with a deep frown, as if debating disciplinary action for insubordination.
Good luck with that.
Gus lifted his forefinger to his hat in a mock salute and put his foot to the gas. It wasn’t until he was on the road home that he realized he was still holding his jaw so tightly that the muscles ached.