by Silver James
“Dude, seriously? The old man pushing cows?”
He heard the clacking of a computer keyboard. “No, not the old man, Granddad Cal. In the forties, during the war.”
“Huh. Color me impressed. There’s a big file on it in the Oklahoma Chronicle’s morgue. Hang on a sec and I’ll forward it to you. To make a long story short, Granddad Cal had a crapload of cows to sell and because of gas rationing, he decided to herd them from the ranch to the stockyards. The thing got a lot of attention. According to the file, it was even featured in a newsreel at the movies. The last cowboy. That sort of thing. Bottom line, he got the herd to market and made a killing. Army paid top dollar. Drove those steers straight into box cars and shipped ’em off to Chicago for slaughter. Why? What’s this got to do with the Morgan situation?”
Chance stared out the window wondering the same thing. “I don’t know. Yet. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Nice to have you back on board, bro. Now get the paperwork finished. The old man wants the notice of foreclosure served pronto.”
His brother’s words echoed in his head. Nice to have you back on board. But was he? He needed to see Cassidy. Find out what harebrained stunt she was planning. And then he’d talk her out of it. He’d make a few calls. Get her another job in Chicago. His heart hammered at the thought. Was that what he wanted?
It would be the simplest solution. She’d go back to Chicago. Their relationship, if it could be called that, would be over. She would no longer be a burr under his saddle, and she’d never know that his family—that he—had betrayed her. There was only one problem with that plan. He didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay. And he wanted her to care about him. Like he cared about her. There. He admitted it. He cared about Cassidy Morgan. He shouldn’t. Didn’t want to. But he did. No matter how many calls he ignored, how far away from her he stayed, his heart betrayed him. He was a coward, despite the fact he loved her. Admitting it to himself should make him feel better. It didn’t. He felt like the biggest bastard on the planet. She deserved a better man, a man worthy of her.
“Dammit all to hell. How did my life get so complicated?”
Staring at the open folder on his desk, he sighed. Family was everything. Blood was thicker than water. All the clichés his father hammered into his sons as they grew up in his shadow came back to haunt him. He wanted to do the right thing. But what was it?
* * *
Boots stumbled out of his room and headed straight for the coffeepot. Nosy, Cass watched him. He walked back to the table and peered curiously at the maps. “You look a little peaked this morning, Uncle Boots. Bad night?”
He muttered something under his breath and she thought she caught the words, “honky tonk,” “dancing,” and “that fool woman.”
She bit her lip to hide a smile. “Yeah...gotcha. None of my business. I suggest we institute a don’t-ask, don’t-tell policy around here when it comes to our social lives.”
He growled and sipped his coffee. Then he tapped a finger on the map. “You planning a trip?”
Cass pushed back from the table, snagged her own mug and took a sip. She grimaced but swallowed the cold coffee. She headed to the sink to dump the contents and pour a fresh cup. “Sort of.” She returned to the table, sat and gestured for Boots to join her. “We need to talk.”
“No luck with the banker, I take it?”
“None. The bank is foreclosing unless I pay off the loan on or before the due date.””
He stared at her a full minute, his expression never changing before he asked, “You gonna explain the maps?”
She inhaled and rushed on. “For the cattle drive. It’s been done before. Granted, it was almost seventy years ago but Calvin Barron...” She would have missed his expression if she hadn’t been so intent on watching him. “What?”
“Nothing. Go on.”
She knit her brows, puzzling through his reaction but continued doggedly. “I’ll need permits. I plan on going to the commissioners of Canadian and Oklahoma Counties today to find out. Unless you need the truck?” She batted her eyes at him. “You know, to go to the Four Corners or...something.”
He muttered under his breath, and she had to choke back a laugh as he blushed beneath his tan. “Take the damn truck. I have fence to ride.” He pushed back from the table, the chair legs scraping against the scarred linoleum.
Cass paused to throw her arms around the old man’s neck as he sat in his recliner. “This is going to work, Uncle Boots. I just know it!” The only damper on her enthusiasm was the fact Chance still hadn’t called her. She alternated between concern and anger. If he’d blown her off, he could have been man enough to say so instead of keeping her dangling. But she was enough of a worrywart to wonder if something bad had happened to him. “Maybe Chance will help out, too.”
“I hope so, baby girl.” He muttered something under his breath that sounded like “for your sake.”
Cassie kissed the top of his head, wondering at his words. Chance would call. She argued with herself, ending with the final insistent word as she muttered, too. “He will.”
* * *
The next afternoon, Cass rode toward the barn, Buddy trotting beside her horse. Her sleeve was torn, and a few bloodstains spotted the frayed fabric. She’d stretched a strand of barbed wire too taut, and it had wrapped around her arm when it snapped. She’d have to make a trip to a clinic to get a tetanus shot. Her last booster was long out of date. Hot, sweaty and physically worn out, she wasn’t looking forward to trekking into town.
As she neared the metal structure, something moved inside, and Buddy took off at a run. His excited barking reached her, and she nudged Red into a trot. Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the man who stepped into the sunlight. Chance. She’d all but given up on him. He hadn’t returned any of her calls. Her traitorous heart galloped at the sight of him, a stupid grin spread across her face and she laughed like a giddy girl on her first date.
He shaded his eyes and raised his hand in a rather tentative wave. She resisted the urge to wave madly back at him as she reined Red to a walk and then stopped the big horse several yards away. After dismounting, she did her best to ignore her emotions and the man creating havoc with her pulse rate.
“Gee, fancy meeting you here.” She was so proud of herself. Just a hint of sarcasm and no breathy sigh.
He stepped closer and reached out, but she wasn’t sure whether he meant to touch her or take the reins. “Cass, we should—what the hell?” He grabbed her arm, his hand gentle despite the urgency in his grip. “What happened?”
She tugged her arm, but his fingers didn’t relinquish their hold. “I had a fight with a string of barbed wire. I won.”
“Well, it doesn’t look that way to me. You’re bleeding.”
“No, I’m not. It’s dried. Mostly.”
“We need to get you to the ER.”
“No, we don’t. In case you’ve forgotten in your rather noticeable absence, I was fired. That means no more insurance. That means I can’t pay an ER bill.”
“When was your last tetanus shot?”
“Long enough ago that I need one. But not at the ER. I can’t afford five hundred dollars for a stupid shot. One of the drugstores in town has a clinic. I can get a booster there.”
“Get up to the house and clean out the wounds. I’ll put Red up and then come help.”
She blew out a breath and her bangs, even though they were sweat-damp, danced from the force. “I’m a big girl, Chance. I can doctor myself and drive to the clinic.”
“Driving what? The tractor?”
She leaned around him and glanced through the barn. Boots’s pickup was gone. “Oh...”
“You. House. Now. I’ll be up after I take care of Red, and we’ll go to the clinic.” He held up his hand, palm facing her. “No arguments.”
Huffin
g and muttering under her breath about his bossiness, she relinquished the reins and marched through the barn. Buddy trotted beside her until she arrived at the far door; then the dog abandoned her to go back to Chance. “Traitor.”
Two hours later, her arm properly bandaged and sore from the injection, Cass sat in a booth across from Chance at the Four Corners. A mound of mashed potatoes smothered in cream gravy perched next to a chicken-fried steak. Fried okra and more gravy appeared in separate bowls on the girl’s next trip.
“Do I need to cut up your meat?”
She jerked her chin up and glared across the table. “I’m not helpless, Chance. I am perfectly capable of cutting up my own chicken fry.” To prove her point, she grabbed the knife and fork and proceeded to carve off a bite. She even managed to hide her grimace when her upper arm throbbed with pain from the action.
They ate in silence, though Chance watched her every move. Self-conscious, she took little bites and made sure her mouth stayed closed as she chewed. As the waitress cleared her plate, she met his gaze.
“What?”
“Hmmm?” He seemed distracted, his eyes watching her mouth.
“I guess you’ve been really busy. Or something?” Her inner skeptic was back, front and center. Then an emotion she couldn’t decipher slid across his face before he shuttered his expression. She never wanted to play poker with this man. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. She did her best to ignore the frisson of desire ignited by his touch. As much as she wanted to stay angry with him, she melted inside whenever he looked at her.
“You can’t be serious, Cass.”
Confused, she stared at him. “Serious? About what?”
He nodded toward the cash register and the bulletin board hanging on the wall beside it. “A cattle drive. Really?”
She swiveled in the booth to see. Sure enough, her flier asking for volunteer drovers was displayed in front of them. Turning back to Chance, she readied for battle. Here she’d been all “ooey-gooey” about being with him again and now this? The dismissive tone of his voice set her off.
“How else can I get the herd to the stockyards? I can’t hire a hauler. I talked to the sale manager. He said if I don’t bring them all in at once I’ll lose major money. And frankly? At this point, I can’t afford to lose another dime.”
She combed frustrated fingers through her bangs, wincing as she flexed her biceps. So much for him understanding and wanting to help. “I’m out of time, Chance, which you’d know if you ever listened to your voice mail.” She watched as the arrogant facade he’d worn crumbled a bit. Maybe she could play poker with him after all. Score one for her.
“I’ve been busy, Cass. I’m...sorry.”
A snort erupted—half bitter laugh, half the sound of derision it was meant to be. “Busy? Well, guess what, cowboy. Me, too. I’m hanging on by my fingernails. I’m stuck with a ranch I never wanted in the first place but all my options were ripped out from under me. I have no choice. I walk away with nothing after a forced liquidation sale, declare bankruptcy and hope to hell I can live in the homeless shelter until I can find a job.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “I don’t own a car, Chance, so I can’t live in it. Nadine has been after Boots forever. If he has any sense, he’ll marry her and move in with her, and take Buddy, Red and Lucky with him. My other option is to stay and fight. I’m not paranoid, but I’m really starting to wonder. The bank decides to foreclose. There’s not a cattle hauler in three states that’ll talk to me. I lose my job.” She ticked off the points on her fingers.
“The market is prime right now, and I’ve got Grade A beef on the hoof, grass-fed and tender. Daddy gambled everything on that herd. I can’t let him down. I can’t turn tail and run, as much as I’d like to just find a hole, crawl into it and die. I wasn’t raised that way.”
She paused for a breath, struck silent for a moment by Chance’s expression. A mixture of admiration, sadness and something she didn’t want to identify but hoped like hell wasn’t guilt etched the handsome planes of his face. He met her gaze, but he blinked first.
His hand captured one of hers again while the other cupped her cheek. “Dammit, Cassie. I...care about you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Too late for that.” He winced at her cutting tone, but she didn’t care. Much. Tired of feeling alone, she leaned into his palm. “Help me, Chance. Help me make everything right again.”
His expression softened, and his fingertips caressed her skin but he didn’t say anything as he dropped his hand.
Exasperated, she pulled away from him. “You can help me or get the hell out of my way, Chance.” When he remained silent, she shrugged. “Fine. Thanks for dinner, but I need to get home. I’ve got a lot of work to do to get ready for the trail drive.”
The uncomfortable trip home couldn’t end fast enough. Cass had the passenger door open before Chance put the truck in Park. She hopped out, slammed the door and trotted toward the barn, hoping he’d get the hint and just leave. She still had evening chores to finish.
Aware that Chance had cut the motor on the pickup and now followed her, she did her best to ignore him. Every time she thought their relationship held some promise, he dashed cold water on the whole idea by his actions. Fine. She could deal with that. By not dealing with him. She wouldn’t think about him, wouldn’t plan on him ever being a part of her future. She could stand on her own two feet, and she would.
Cass climbed up to the loft and dragged a bale of alfalfa hay to the edge. She shoved it over and waited a heartbeat before calling out, “Heads up.” She snickered when Chance stumbled backward out of the way.
Back on the main floor, she snagged a pair of wire cutters and snipped the baling wire. After splitting the bale into blocks, she grabbed an armful and paced the length of the barn, putting hay into the mangers of each stall. When she got to the colt’s stall, she glanced in. He lay on his side and didn’t raise his head as she clucked to him.
“Doc?” He still didn’t respond so she whistled sharply. The horse merely flicked an ear. She fumbled with the latch, frantic to get into the stall to check on him.
“Cass? What’s wrong?” Chance covered her hands with his and stilled them. “Here. I’ll do it.”
A moment later, he had the door open, and she rushed in. Doc’s legs had brushed back and forth so hard, the horse had cleared the straw down to the dirt floor. She dropped to her knees and stroked his neck. Running a hand across his withers and then his belly, she stilled. This was bad. Really bad. His belly felt hard and looked bloated.
“We need to get him up on his feet.” She stood and bent over, tugging on Doc’s halter but nothing happened. “Chance, help me!” Her voice broke, revealing her helplessness.
“Easy, baby. Calm down. Let me get a look.”
She backed away, but hovered close. “What’s wrong with him?” Her stomach tightened and the fried food from dinner was a queasy lump threatening to choke her. She swallowed then shoved her hands in her pockets to keep from wringing them.
“I think it’s colic, Cass, and he doesn’t look good. I’m going to call the vet.”
She shook her head. “Oh damndamndamn. I...I don’t think you can get one to come. I can’t pay.”
“It’s okay, Cass. We’ll figure it out. Stay here with him. I’ll make a couple of calls.”
Chance backed out of the stall as she knelt in the hay, petting the colt and crooning softly. She seemed oblivious to him. Even so, he stepped outside the barn before he dialed the first number. As soon as he had the information he needed from his brother, he ended the call before Cord could launch into all the reasons his presence at the Crazy M was a bad idea.
Besides, he had a good reason—one even his father might applaud, given the old man wanted the colt for his own. If Doc died, no one would prof
it. He kept telling himself that’s why he was dialing the emergency large animal vet. He gave his full name, directions and a description of the colt’s symptoms. He also guaranteed payment.
He’d just finished the call when Boots arrived. Chance squared his shoulders and prepared to do battle with the other man. He didn’t have to wait long for Boots to fire the first shot.
“What are you doing here?”
“Cass got hurt.” He held up his hand. “It’s not serious. She got caught in some barbed wire and needed a ride so she could get a tetanus shot. But when we got back, she found the colt down in his stall. I’ve called the vet.” Boots glared at him, and Chance worked to remain calm.
“You haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”
Why was he here? Because he couldn’t stay away from her? Because she had rubbed a raw spot right over his heart? He gave the only answer he had. “I don’t know, Boots. There’s something about her. Something special. I just can’t stay away.”
“Your daddy is behind all her troubles, ain’t he.”
As Chance had suspected, Boots knew the truth. Since the man hadn’t asked a question, no answer was required.
“You gonna let him get away with this? With hurtin’ her like he’s doin’?”
Chance glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. He wasn’t ready for Cass to discover the truth. Not yet. Not until he had an opportunity to explain things to her. “There’s nothing I can do, Boots. The old man holds all the cards in this game.”
“Game? This is a game to you?”
He shook his head, adamant in his denial. “No. That’s not what I meant. Dammit. Have you ever known Cyrus Barron to lose at anything?” Boots stared at him and, while it took some effort, Chance steadily returned the man’s gaze.
“Yeah. I have. Her name was Colleen. A damn finer man wooed that woman, married her and produced that little girl in there.”
“Uncle Boots!” Cass’s panicked shout cut off any retort Chance might have made. He beat the older man to the stall by a few strides, then waited in the doorway while Boots eased through and knelt beside her.