The Cowboy and the Girl Next Door: (A Clean, Enemies to Lovers Romance) Wyle Away Ranch Book 1

by Janette Rallison

  Really, to think she’d felt like such a competent person before she started ranching, that only today she’d been congratulating herself on managing things so well on her own.

  The alarm clock kept silently blinking through numbers, reminding her that morning was coming and would bring more chores with it. 12:06, 12:07. Finally, finally she began to relax. And then a terrible thought hit her. What if Marigold wasn’t pacing in her stall earlier because she was restless; what if she was in labor?

  No, it was still too early for that. Before Dewayne left, he’d checked the mare’s udder like it was a reliable indicator of the foal’s arrival. He would’ve said something if the horse was about to give birth. But agitation and pacing were signs of labor, and Marigold had been agitated when Kate brought her in. Maybe she hadn’t been indignant at being forgotten, maybe she’d been in pain.

  Once more, Kate threw off the covers. She grabbed her coat, put on her boots, and headed to the barn.

  Marigold was trudging around her pen, occasionally nudging the straw at her feet. She might still be cold and trying to warm up.

  Kate watched her for ten minutes and then twenty, waiting to see if the mare settled down and went to sleep. Every once in a while, the horse stood still, but after a few moments she would pace around again like a restless shadow. Marigold might be sick. Kate would have to check for a temperature, and if the mare was having contractions, she wouldn’t appreciate having a thermometer shoved into her rear. Hopefully, she wouldn’t kick Kate. Ending this night in the emergency room would not improve the situation.

  A few minutes later, Kate was more familiar with the horse’s backside than she wanted to be, and she learned that, no, Marigold didn’t have a fever.

  If the mare was truly was in labor, Kate should call a vet. However, the idea of ringing up Angelina at a quarter ‘til one was less than appealing. What would Kate tell her? “My horse isn’t sleeping, and I’m not sure whether it’s because she’s in labor or because I accidentally left her out in the cold for hours.”

  Angelina would come, smug and condescending, and happily charge her an exorbitant after-hours fee. Then she’d let everyone know how inept Kate was. It would be humiliating.

  But if Kate didn’t call a vet and something went wrong, Kate would never forgive herself. According to the internet, which she’d been obsessively searching for the last twenty minutes, mares were usually in labor for around eight hours, but it could be much shorter or longer. If Marigold had been in labor before dinner when Kate first noticed her restlessness, the horse might have the foal any time now. And the vet was a half-hour drive away.

  Kate thought about calling Landon to ask for advice, but it was late and he had to get up early. Besides, she ought to be able to handle this on her own. She was supposed to be capable of making decisions like figuring out when to contact a vet. She watched Marigold tread across her straw for a few more moments, then placed a call to the vet’s afterhours service. She told them her horse might be in labor. She would parcel out the other details as needed.

  “Our doctors are out on other calls right now,” the receptionist reported. “But I’ll let them know.”

  “They’re out?” Kate hadn’t even considered that possibility. “Both of them? Will they be finished soon?”

  “Can’t say. With animals, it could be three minutes or three hours. Would you like a call when someone’s available?”

  “Yes,” Kate said weakly. Now that she knew a vet might not come in time, she felt completely unprepared.

  After she hung up, she paced the barn herself. Horses laid down before they began to push. Marigold was still on her feet. Maybe this was a false alarm. Horses probably got indigestion sometimes, especially when left out in the cold.

  Fifteen minutes later, Marigold plopped down on the straw. Okay, that probably meant she was going to start pushing soon. With an apology already on her lips, she called Landon.

  He didn’t say hello when he picked up. He said, “What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry to bother you, but I think Marigold might be about to give birth, and the vet can’t come, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” On the YouTube videos, she’d seen people holding on to the foal’s legs while the mare pushed. “I’m afraid if I start grabbing parts of Marigold’s baby, she’ll kick me. At least, that’s what I would do if the roles were reversed.” Kate was babbling. She put her hand over her mouth to stop herself.

  “I’m on my way,” he said. “Is Marigold lying down?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is she near a wall or anything that would obstruct the foal?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I’ll stay on the phone. Tell me what’s happening.”

  There wasn’t much to tell since Marigold was just lying there, looking at Kate reproachfully. So Kate told him how she’d forgotten the horse in the pasture, relating the experience as though she was in a confessional and Landon could absolve her sins. “I left the poor thing out in the cold when she was in labor.” Or maybe leaving her out in the cold had brought on her labor. Either way, it seemed so thoughtless.

  “We all make mistakes,” Landon said.

  “If this horse dies, Grandpa will never forgive me.” Kate said the words without thinking, and when she realized what she’d said, she got too choked up to speak for several moments.

  Since she’d moved onto the ranch, her grandfather’s presence had overshadowed everything. He seemed to still be here, just around the corner, like he’d always been—confident and sturdy. Now with one uttered sentence, Kate realized how real his absence was. And she missed him.

  A few minutes later when Landon reached the barn, Kate was staring at Marigold and psychoanalyzing herself. Was she still trying to win her grandfather’s approval? For so long, she’d told herself that she hadn’t cared what he thought. But the truth was, she didn’t want to disappoint him, not about the horse, and not about the ranch.

  Landon gave Kate a quick hug, then examined Marigold. A whitish balloon seemed to be growing on her backside. Kate hoped that was normal.

  “Everything’s fine,” Landon assured her. “Marigold doesn’t seem any worse for her stint outside. How are you holding up?”

  “I should have talked to him,” Kate mumbled.

  Landon pulled a bottle of betadine and a towel from a bag he’d brought with him. “Are we talking about a horse?”

  “No, my grandfather.” She took a deep breath. “Why couldn’t he have loved me regardless of what he thought I’d done?”

  “He did.” Landon hung the towel over the pen’s door. “Cal just wasn’t good at saying things like that.”

  “After he yelled at me, that was the end of our relationship. He never tried to talk to me again. Not really. He never apologized.”

  Landon held his hands out to his sides, gesturing to everything around him. “He left you the ranch. That was his apology. Don’t you see that?”

  Emotion caught in Kate’s throat making it tight. She’d waited years for her grandfather to reach out to her, to show that he loved her. Had he done it with his will, and she hadn’t even recognized the gesture for what it was?

  “Cal gave you everything he’d loved and worked for,” Landon went on. “He gave you the wide-open skies, calves every spring, and the best neighbors imaginable. You probably shouldn’t overlook that part.”

  She smiled, happy until she thought of her parents. “He had to have known how upset my dad was going to be when he didn’t inherit the ranch.”

  “Since your father didn’t want the ranch when Cal was alive, I imagine Cal figured your father wouldn’t be that upset not to have it later.”

  Her parents didn’t want the ranch, just the money from its sale. The thought pricked her now. The house, the barn, everything her great-grandparents and grandparents had built here would be gone once her parents took control of the property.

  What would they do if she changed her mind and didn’t turn Coyote Glen over to them at t
he end of the year?

  Kate already knew the answer. They’d been hurt when her grandfather hadn’t given them the ranch. They’d be doubly crushed if she did the same thing. Coyote Glen should have been her father’s all along. Kate couldn’t renege and wound her parents just because she liked ranching more than she’d expected.

  Marigold’s coat grew shiny with sweat, and her breathing was labored. Finally, the foal’s front legs emerged from its mother, shrouded, veil-like in the birth sack. Landon cut away the sack and took hold of the foal’s legs. “I’m giving her traction to push against,” he explained.

  The foal’s nose peeked from between its legs, so that the little horse looked like it was diving into the world.

  Marigold panted and made moaning sounds. A minute passed. Marigold stopped pushing. The foal didn’t seem to be breathing.

  “Come on, mama,” Landon said. “You can do this.”

  The horse seemed to disagree. She didn’t push. The veins stood out on her bulging stomach.

  “You’re a good girl,” Landon said, still soothing. “Come on.”

  He kept speaking to her in that low, calm voice. The horse contracted again, feebly pushed, and despite what Landon said about only holding the foal’s legs for traction, he pulled. “Help me with the foal’s head,” he called to Kate. “Hold it up.”

  Kate bounded across the straw, bent over, and took the foal’s wet head to keep it from scraping across the floor. The little horse’s nose had a white stripe, tinged pink from blood. Large black eyes blinked up at her.

  “Just one more contraction,” Landon said.

  Kate didn’t look at him or Marigold. She was staring at the foal’s eyes, so new and trusting. The animal slid all of the way out to the ground, glistening wet. Its thin legs splayed everywhere.

  “A filly.” Landon took the towel and wiped the foal with gentle strokes. “This will help stimulate her breathing.”

  The animal’s ears lifted and she sniffed the air. Such a beautiful girl. Marigold shifted and turned her head to look at her daughter. She softly knickered and the filly answered with a noise that sounded almost like a mew.

  Kate had known Marigold was going to produce a foal, and yet it still seemed like an amazing feat, like the horse had just performed a stunning magic trick. Somehow the whole world had been made new with the birth of this wobbling creature. If Kate had been in Seattle, she would have missed this moment and was suddenly so glad she was here.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next day after Landon finished his chores, he headed to Coyote Glen to check on the filly and see Kitty. As he parked his truck, Dewayne came out of the barn and ambled over.

  “How’s the filly?” Landon asked through the window. When he’d left last night, the foal was on her feet and nursing well enough. Kitty had been glued to the pen, completely in love with the animal. She’d started calling her Daisy.

  “Good.” Dewayne spit his tobacco on the ground. “I heard you helped deliver it.”

  “The vets were on other calls.” Landon cut his ignition. “I told Kitty I’d bring her a foal halter I wasn’t using. Where is she?”

  Dewayne nodded to the house. “Sleeping it off. Too much excitement for her last night.”

  Landon should’ve thought of that possibility before he drove over here. Looked like he would miss seeing her today. He got out of the truck and handed the halter to Dewayne. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice Marigold was so close to foaling.” That had bothered him since last night. Even though the horse was two weeks away from her delivery date, Dewayne should have checked her and noticed the signs: her udder filling out and the foal dropping low into her belly. If Dewayne hadn’t been able to stay at the ranch, he should have at least warned Kitty to expect the foal soon.

  “Guess I was too busy to check.” Dewayne gazed past him at the house. “It’s not the same working for Ms. Benton as it was for Cal.”

  Surely Dewayne hadn’t expected Kitty to be the one checking Marigold. She didn’t have the experience for that.

  “Before I left,” Dewayne went on, “I talked to Jeff Benton. He said he turned down your offer, said it was too low.” Dewayne snorted. “The way the Bentons act, you’d think they actually like the place. But they just want to get every last cent they can.”

  “They turned down my offer?” This wasn’t news he’d expected to get from Dewayne.

  Dewayne’s gaze shot back to Landon. “Miss Benton didn’t tell you?” He let out another snort. “No, I guess she wouldn’t. She wants to get all the free help possible before telling you to go pound sand. Ain’t right.”

  Why hadn’t Kitty told him that her parents rejected his offer? And they weren’t even going to bother with a counter offer? Landon resisted the urge to grit his teeth. Couldn’t the Bentons just be reasonable?

  Dewayne shook his head. “All these years, you’ve put sweat and blood into your ranch to make a living—helped Cal with his too—and the Benton’s just swoop in like vultures to take it away.”

  This commentary wasn’t helping.

  Dewayne’s tongue moved around his mouth like it was in search of more tobacco. “Everybody knows Cal meant to sell you Coyote Glen when he retired, and he would’ve asked less than you offered the Bentons. That’s a fact.”

  True enough. Things hadn’t turned out that way, though. “Well,” Landon said. He meant to add, “Life takes unexpected turns,” but at the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to be that philosophical. When had Kitty planned on telling him the news?

  “I could make sure you get the land.” Dewayne’s gaze flicked back to the house. “Wouldn’t take much for Coyote Glen to dip into the red for three months. I could nudge it in that direction. It’d only cost you a tenth of what the Benton’s turned their nose up at.”

  Landon almost wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “You’re talking about sabotaging the ranch?”

  He’d spoken too loudly. Dewayne lifted a hand to shush him. “You’ll get what’s rightfully yours, and I’ll get some compensation. That’s all I’m asking for. My price is more than fair.”

  “No.” Landon answered before he could let himself consider the offer. Cheating like that was wrong, illegal, disloyal to Kitty, and insulting to him. What sort of person did Dewayne think he was?

  “A hundred and fifty thousand then,” Dewayne said, undeterred. “It’s as low as I’ll go.”

  “You just proved how low you’ll go. I suggest you go pack your things. I doubt Miss Benton will want you to stay on after I tell her about your offer.”

  Dewayne’s expression flashed disbelief, anger, and then a leering understanding. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger good and tight, hasn’t she? Guess I know what you were really doing over here late last night.”

  Landon took a step forward, the sort of step that was a warning in and of itself. “Watch your mouth.”

  Dewayne shook his head at Landon like he was a thing to pity. “I just wonder what sort of tricks she performs to make a man willingly give up his land. But then she must know plenty. She’s been a slut since she was fifteen—”

  He didn’t finish because Landon swung and hit him across the cheek. Even that had been a warning. Landon hadn’t hit him nearly as hard as he’d wanted to. Dewayne staggered, regained his balance, and put his hands up in case Landon came at him again.

  Landon pointed in the direction of the foreman’s house. “Pack your things. You’re leaving.”

  Dewayne swore and spit at Landon’s feet. “Fine. I’ll send movers for my stuff.” He stalked off, cursing, to the side of the barn where his Chevy was parked.

  Landon shook his hands and took slow breaths to calm himself. Didn’t work.

  Dewayne’s Chevy lurched backward, then sped off toward the gate, churning up clouds of dirt as he went. Good riddance.

  Landon strode to the house to break the news to Kitty. They had a number of things to discuss.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kate woke to th
e sound of the doorbell. She pulled herself out of bed, ran a hand through her tangled hair, and answered the door.

  Landon stood on the porch holding a foal halter.

  It wasn’t until she stepped outside that she realized something was wrong. Tension ran through Landon. It was in his stance, the curve of his fingers, and the firm line of his lips.

  “What’s wrong?” Her heart sank. “Is it Daisy?” She took a step toward the stables, already making bargains with God. Let it be something fixable. Don’t let her be dead.

  “No, Daisy is fine. It’s Dewayne. You’re going to have to find a different foreman.” Landon hung the halter on the doorknob. “I know a few people who’d fit the bill. If you’d like, I can ask around.”

  “What happened to Dewayne?” She imagined the worst. He’d been trampled, gored by a bull—she was about to start bargaining with God again.

  “He said if I paid him a hundred and fifty thousand, he’d sabotage Coyote Glen. I told him to leave. You can’t have a man like that working for you.”

  Processing this statement took Kate a moment. The person in charge of overseeing the ranch had offered to sabotage it? Shock and then fury hit her like physical things, sharp as a slap. Dewayne had been her grandfather’s friend. Hadn’t that meant anything to the man? All of the time she’d worked with Dewayne, he’d acted like he was on her side, but for a price he was willing to take everything away from her. He was an awful, terrible person.

  “I’m going to call him and fire him.” She patted her pants pocket, searching for her phone. Not there. She’d left it on her nightstand. “He’s going to explain himself.”

  “I doubt he’ll admit to what I just told you.”

  Probably true. Still, doing nothing made her feel helpless. “I’m going to…” She paused, realizing just how little she could do. She couldn’t prove he’d done anything illegal. She had no recourse at all.