“Did you strain something?” Shelby asked as she headed for the coffee pot. She was careful not to look at her grandfather as she spoke. The more casual she kept the conversation, the less concerned she seemed, the more likely she was to get the truth. Or something approaching the truth. Her grandfather was pretty stoic.
“Woke up feeling a little stiff.” He allowed, curling a hand around his coffee cup.
“Sleep wrong?” Shelby crossed the kitchen and sat in the chair across from him. She didn’t dare sip the steaming hot coffee she set down in front of her.
“That’s probably it.”
“I’m sure that explains the bruise on your arm, too,” she said mildly.
Gramps’s gaze dropped to his left forearm where a bruise was indeed blooming near his elbow. “Huh. Didn’t notice that.”
Shelby took a chance on the coffee and burned her tongue. She set the cup down and wished for the zillionth time that her grandfather liked drip coffee instead of the boiled cowboy coffee he’d grown up drinking. But if he was making the coffee, she was keeping her complaints to herself.
“What did you do?”
He gave a small shrug. “Want some eggs?”
“Wouldn’t mind.”
He started to push himself up out of his chair then stopped when the pain hit him.
So much for trying to fake out your granddaughter.
“Sit down. I don’t mind cooking.” She had to wait for her coffee to cool anyway. She got out of her chair and headed for the fridge. “You were about to tell me what happened to you.”
Gramps let out a breath. “Old age, near as I can figure.”
Shelby took out a carton of eggs. “Just snuck up on you? Bruised your elbow and hurt your leg?”
“Hip.”
“What happened to your hip?” She pulled a bowl out from the cupboard.
“I overdid it fencing.”
Shelby turned, the bowl still in her hand. “Fencing? What fence?” All of their fences were in good shape unless a cow had recently gone through one.
Gramps pressed his lips together. “The fence along the creek on the grazing lease.”
“There is no fence along the creek.” Unless the people who’d recently purchased the land her grandfather leased to feed his cattle had built one. As far as she knew, that hadn’t happened.
“There will be. The new owners changed the terms of the agreement and I have to fence off the riparian, except for two watering areas. They want it done before the snow flies, so it’s ready come spring, when we turn out.”
“When were you going to tell me about this new deal?” Because Gramps had renewed the lease for the adjoining property over two weeks ago and had never said one word about new fencing.
“You have a full plate.”
Shelby turned back to the bowl and started cracking eggs into it. She did have a full schedule. She worked horses for eight hours a day, five-and-a-half days a week. Sunday was for catching up on hours she’d had to use for other things—doctors, dentists, grocery shopping. Roping practice… she’d give that up, except that Wyatt was counting on her to do her part in the Copper Mountain Rodeo. That was part of being a team roper—one counted on their partner.
Gramps got out of his chair and crossed the room, moving better than he’d been before he knew that Shelby was watching, and she had a feeling it was costing him.
“I’ve been working on this fence for two days now, using the posts in the stockpile and getting an idea of how much more materials I need to buy.” He raised a hand when Shelby shot him a look. “It’s still my property, kiddo, and if I want to fence it without help, so be it.”
“I can see that’s working out really well for you.” She started stirring the eggs a little harder than necessary. The creek went on forever through the lease, winding instead of cutting straight across. “You can’t do that much fencing alone. You need a crew.”
“I could barely afford Uriel. Hell. I couldn’t afford Uriel. Not year around anyway. He expected more money than Ty.” Because Ty had only worked for them part-time before he took off to pursue his rodeo dreams.
“We need to get someone. I’d help if I didn’t have a full schedule.”
“Maybe I can put a notice up at the feed store.”
“Or maybe Ty could have his old job back.” The idea came out of nowhere.
Crazy, yet somehow sane, and Shelby felt oddly calm as she spoke. What better way to prove they were well and truly over? To take command of the situation? This would be the ultimate in command… she’d be his boss.
When she chanced a glance at her grandfather he was literally gaping at her.
He snapped his mouth shut, then said, “I thought…” His voice trailed off as if he was afraid of saying something wrong.
“Ty and I talked last night. Things are truly over. You need the help.” And Ty owed Gramps for taking off like he did.
If he was back in Marietta, he might as well pay his debt. He knew Gramps. He knew the ranch.
“Maybe one of the fire crew.”
“Or maybe someone who you can work with.” Because her grandfather was not an easy boss. “Can you afford to pay Ty his old wage for a few weeks?”
Shelby’s business was separate from the ranch, which was solely owned by her grandfather. She paid rent on the corrals and the tack sheds at her insistence, hoping it helped Gramps make ends meet during the lean times. It seemed to be working. He hadn’t shipped cows to pay unexpected bills in a long time, but he hadn’t paid anyone a salary since Uriel left.
“I can afford part-time help.”
Shelby put butter in the pan heating on the stove and slowly swirled it. “Good. I’ll see Ty today.”
“I don’t know that I like this. Not after…” His voice trailed yet again and Shelby gave him a bland look over her shoulder.
“I can handle it.”
*
It wasn’t hard to find Ty’s small camp trailer, parked on the edge of the Carrigan property, not far from the cattle guard. He’d set up in an aspen grove and when she turned down the pasture track leading to his camp site, he came out from behind the trailer, bare-chested, his shirt in one hand. She hoped he would do them both a favor and put his shirt on. Soon. This mission was hard enough without the added distraction of trying not to look at his torso.
But this mission also felt right. If she spent time around Ty, the ghosts of the past would be laid to rest. It was very much like sacking out a green colt. By exposing the young horse to the things that triggered or frightened him in a slow and methodical way, eventually the colt accepted them as commonplace and no longer frightening. In this case, she was the colt.
She eased the truck around a water-filled rut, reiterating to herself that this was a good plan.
She and Ty might have their issues, but she trusted him to have Gramps’s back if he hired on to do the job. To look out for her grandfather and keep him from overdoing things physically. Yes. Good plan.
Ty had his shirt on by the time she stopped her truck and got out of it. It was buttoned crooked, but she could live with that. She just didn’t want to see his chest, see the faint scar crossing his pecs that she used to trace with her index finger. And her tongue…
Stop.
Too late. The image filled her mind, made her insides tumble.
“Shelby.” Ty’s gaze was wary. “I can honestly say that this is a surprise.”
“I imagine.” She came around to the front of her truck, felt the heat on the engine on her back. “I’m here with a business proposition.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you still looking for work?”
“I haven’t nailed anything down yet.”
“Would you consider short-term?” When he tilted his head, silently asking for details, she continued, “Gramps has to fence the riparian on the lease. It’s too much for him to do alone.”
“Uriel isn’t there?”
“He’s outfitting. Took the job last year. Gramps ha
s been trying to do everything on his own.”
“Can’t find a replacement?”
“Gramps doesn’t pay all that well.”
Ty’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. “You’ll forgive me if I find it odd that you’re here offering me a job after our discussion last night.”
“I get that. But Gramps needs help, and you did kind of cut him off at the knees when you took off.”
“So I owe him.”
“Pretty much.” Ty shifted his gaze down to his scuffed boots, one of which had a pant leg jammed into it, while the other pant leg fell down over the boot where it belonged. He’d gotten dressed in a hurry—probably when he heard her truck pull over the cattle guard. She glanced at the trailer, then an awful thought struck her. What if he wasn’t alone?
It. Doesn’t. Matter.
In fact, it would be a good thing. Problem solved. Right?
Shelby tore her eyes away from the trailer and met Ty’s gaze once again. She shifted her weight. Despite the crisp early morning air, her thin cotton shirt was sticking to her back. “I trust you to keep an eye on Gramps. Not let him overdo it.”
“Seems anyone could do that?”
“Gramps can’t buffalo you or strong arm you. One less worry for me.”
Ty kicked the dirt at his feet with the toe of his boot. “Can I move the trailer onto the ranch?”
Shelby’s heart kicked. Ty. On the ranch. Several hours a day working with Gramps was one thing. His living there was another.
She almost said, “I don’t think so.” But she stopped herself. It was a reasonable request given the fact that the Carrigan Ranch was a bit of a drive from the Forty-Six and they weren’t paying high wages. One corner of her mouth tightened. “That makes sense. Where’d you get the trailer?”
“Long story.” She tilted her head. “Callen felt sorry for me.”
“She’s okay with you moving it?”
“Mine until I don’t need it any more. When do you want me to start?”
“Does tomorrow work? Because Gramps is out there today busting his ass alone.”
“Tomorrow it is. I’ll talk to Callen and move the trailer later today.”
“Thanks, Ty.” She meant it.
“Shelby?”
She had her hand on the truck’s door handle when he said her name.
She glanced back at him. “Yes?”
He sauntered a few steps closer, moving with only a hint of a limp from his wreck earlier that year, everything about him so damned… male. “Don’t you want to lay down some ground rules?”
“I’m pretty sure you can figure out the ground rules. You’re there to help Gramps.”
“Then let me lay down mine.”
Shelby’s eyebrows lifted as she let go of the door handle. “You have ground rules?”
“You aren’t the only one who can draw a line in the sand, Shelb. I did as you asked and stayed away for four long years. It wasn’t easy.”
“You’re making me seriously rethink this job offer.”
Ty simply raised an eyebrow, telling Shelby he was now aware that she needed him more than he needed her. He knew the ranch; he knew the operation… he knew Gramps.
She cleared her throat, but her voice was still a touch husky when she asked, “So, what are your ground rules?”
She expected him to move closer, to drive home his point that, in a way, he was now in the power position. He did not.
Instead he crossed his arms over his crookedly-buttoned shirt and said, “I can’t change the decisions I made four years ago.”
A long measure of silence followed. Shelby finally broke it. “What are your ground rules, Ty?”
“My ground rule is very simple. We start fresh. The past is gone. We let it go.”
Shelby opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand and she closed it again.
“I didn’t say you needed to like me or consider me a friend. I’m kind of getting a clear picture of your feelings there. But we let the past go. Clean slate.”
“You’re asking a lot.” She folded her arms over her chest, mimicking his stance. “Because, believe it or not, I harbor some resentment.”
“You hide it well.”
Shelby’s lips twitched.
“Do this and I’ll make certain your grandfather feels like he’s working his ass off when he’s not.”
Shelby blew out a breath. Then she gave a curt nod and dropped her arms. If it were anyone else she’d shake his hand, but it wasn’t anyone else. It was Ty and just being close to him made her nerves dance in a crazy way.
“Deal,” she said.
He smiled that cool half-smile of his. “I’ll have the trailer moved by the end of the day.”
Chapter Four
Keeping an old man from hurting himself was a lot of work… especially when the old man was a guy who didn’t want anyone doing anything for him.
Finally, after Les had dug his fourth posthole, Ty reached out and took the diggers from him. Les’s gloved hands fell to his sides as he shot Ty a fierce look.
“What are you paying me for?” Ty asked, holding the diggers out of reach.
“To help me fence.” Les growled.
“Then stop paying me to watch you fence.”
Les pulled in a breath that expanded his chest a good inch or so, and Ty fully expected an argument to follow, but instead Les’s cheeks puffed out and then he exhaled.
“I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, letting you be here on the ranch.”
“Why wouldn’t it be the right thing?” Ty asked.
“Because I worry about Shelby.”
Ty had known this talk was coming and was relieved Les had decided to dive in shortly after their workday had begun. The sooner they had this settled, the sooner Les would stop trying to kill himself by working too hard.
“It ruined her when you took off.” Les reached out and took the diggers from Ty. He walked to the next stake and stabbed them into the moist ground. Ty followed.
“It would have ruined her if I’d stayed. I needed to go.”
“She tried to hide it from me, but the girl was hurting.” Another stab. “Bad. It took her months to get back to her old self.”
Ty tightened one corner of his mouth and looked past Les to the treelined horizon. “She’s doing okay now. We agreed to put the past behind us.”
“How so?” Les asked suspiciously.
“We’re going to… start fresh.”
The old man snorted and put his back into the next stab of the diggers. “Well, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t start at all.” He sounded serious.
“If you thought that was a danger, then why did you agree to let me come back to work?”
“Shelby set this whole damned thing up.”
“Kind of blindsided you?”
Les leaned on the diggers, perspiration gleaming on his forehead. Shelby was going to kill him if Les did himself harm on his watch. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
“So why not kick me off the place?”
“Because I need the help,” Les admitted gruffly.
“Not from what I’ve seen.”
“I’m working out some frustrations, okay? I can’t control Shelby’s life, but I worry about her. Having you back in Marietta… I figured maybe I could talk to you, get you to see that you and Shelby… well, it’s not good for her” He met Ty’s gaze then. “I like you, Ty. Always have. But I can’t have Shelby getting hurt again.”
“And if I do hurt her, are you going to cut off my nuts or something?”
The look Les gave him before giving the diggers another sharp jab into the ground was answer enough. Hurt Shelby and he’d be singing soprano.
“Gotcha.”
“Like I said, I like you, Ty. You were kind of like a grandson to me.” He grunted as the diggers went deep into the damp earth. “But if I have to choose, I choose Shelby.”
*
Shelby finished her last horse before Gramps and Ty got back to the ranch.
If her grandfather had been working alone, she would have waited for him and been late to roping practice. But since Ty was working with him, she went into the house, washed her face, re-braided her hair and put on a clean shirt, ignoring her dusty jeans and boots. Peace of mind on some fronts, not so much on others.
Late last night, after Ty had finished setting up the trailer and disappeared inside, she’d given into temptation and searched for the video of his career-ending wreck on YouTube. It wasn’t hard to find, and watching Ty get smashed by the horse as she went over backwards into the chute made Shelby feel sick. He was so damned lucky to be alive, and, after losing her mom to cancer when she was ten, and her friend, Harry Monroe, to a senseless highway accident only weeks ago, the realizations hit hard.
But he was alive. He’d lived through the wreck, he was here, and now she needed to get used to having him around. Her body had yet to get the message that, even though he was close, he was now off-limits—that what had been hers to touch was hers no more.
Time and exposure would help. She may never feel totally comfortable being close to Ty, but she could feel easier about it. More… normal.
That was the plan, anyway.
Clamping her straw hat on her head, Shelby headed out to the truck, loving the fact she didn’t have to bother with a trailer, since she always rode one of Wyatt’s horses at practice. Her trusty roping horse, Dapples, was twenty-five years old and permanently on pasture. His speed was gone and his arena days over. Shelby had thought her arena days were over, too, until Wyatt had called. Practice was helping, but she still had reservations about roping again.
You are tough. You can do this. Besides, how often did one get to compete with a world champion cowboy? One she’d made mud pies with?
He hated it when she brought that up.
Wyatt was already warming up when she got there. Ginger was tied at the rail, his bridle hanging from the saddle horn. Shelby slipped the bit into his mouth and he lowered his head so she could put the bridle over his ears. Well-trained, as were all Wyatt’s horses.
Catch Me, Cowboy Page 4