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

by Janette Rallison

  Almost immediately, Officer Kahale called to ask her more questions. One of them was, “How long has your foreman been working for you?”

  “Since December twentieth.”

  “Did you do a background check before you hired him?”

  She was about to look irresponsible. “No. My father hired him. Gary was one of his old high school friends.”

  Officer Kahale made a disapproving Mmm noise. “We’ll need a list of people who’ve worked on your ranch.”

  She gave him the ones she had, emphasizing that Dewayne might have an ax to grind.

  “We’ll look into these,” Officer Kahale said, and tacked on, “as well as your foreman.”

  Gary wouldn’t have stolen her cattle. He was lazy and, okay, probably an alcoholic, but he was her father’s friend, and he didn’t want her to lose the ranch. He was depending on that September bonus.

  Still, even after Kate put down the phone, the suspicion lingered on. While Kate made an egg salad sandwich, she called her parents. Missy sat on the floor nearby, staring wistfully at the food. It was like this every single meal.

  Kate had expected her parents to feel as upset as she did about the number of cattle missing, but they seemed almost cheerful.

  “This can work in our favor,” her father said. “Gary says he’ll find some ranchers who’re willing to wait for half their payment. With the rest of the claim money, you can pay off your debts. You’ll have the cattle you need, and you’ll be out of the red.”

  Kate couldn’t speak for a moment. Her father was agreeing with Gary. She didn’t know what to say. “Will the lawyer consider partial payment for cattle staying out of the red?”

  “Honey,” her father said, “with millions of dollars at stake, the lawyer doesn’t have to know.”

  What little appetite she’d had completely left. “You want me to cheat?”

  “If there are extenuating circumstances,” her mother said calmly, “it’s not cheating. I’m sure when Grandpa made his will, he just wanted you to work hard and prove you could make competent business decisions. You’ve done that. It’s the spirit of the law that’s important, not the letter. You’re giving up a year of your life for this. It’s not fair that someone can take that from you.”

  Someone being Landon.

  Part of Kate wanted to agree with her parents. She wanted to keep Coyote Glen in the black just so that all the people who’d treated her like some pampered interloper wouldn’t be able to smugly celebrate her defeat. Angelina, particularly. But Kate couldn’t rationalize her way to a clean conscience. Buying cattle in some under-the-table agreement would be cheating. How could she ever look Landon in the eye again if she did that? She would know she hadn’t really earned the ranch, that it should be his.

  “You raised me to be honest. Are you going back on that now?”

  “Honesty is important,” her father said. “But so is family, and Coyote Glen is your family’s land. It ought to belong to us.”

  That argument might have had more weight if her parents wanted to keep the ranch, but they didn’t. This was just about money.

  “It’s ironic,” Kate said. Ironic, meaning bitter. “My worries about Landon’s honesty drove us apart. You were so sure he would do something underhanded to take the ranch away from me that you made me start to believe it too. But now you want me to cheat to take the ranch away from him. You want me to become the person you warned me about.”

  “You’re blowing this out of proportion,” her father said. “It’s not like I’m asking you to steal.”

  “Yes, you are.” Her parents ought to be able to see that. They ought to understand what losing Landon had cost her. But they didn’t, and she didn’t want to keep arguing about it. “The police wanted to know if you did a background check on Gary. Did you?”

  A pause. Of course they hadn’t. “I talked to one of his old bosses,” her father said. “He gave Gary a good reference.”

  “Gary would have been foolish to give you the contact information for anyone who wouldn’t.” Let them think about that as they considered taking Gary’s less-than-legal advice.

  “Kate,” her mother broke in, “Gary aside, you’ve got to listen to us when it comes to the ranch.”

  “I have so far.” Kate tossed the rest of her sandwich to Missy. “And now I’m wondering if that was a mistake.”

  “Kate!” Her father’s voice was shocked, reproving.

  “You don’t even want Coyote Glen,” Kate shot back. “You don’t, but I might.”

  Silence.

  In all the time she’d been on the ranch, they’d never asked her if she was enjoying living in Arizona. They still didn’t ask. Maybe they didn’t want to hear that answer.

  “You’ve had a trying day,” her father said. “It’s best if we talk about this later when you’ve calmed down.”

  She didn’t contradict them, so they said their goodbyes and hung up.

  Calming down was going to take a long time. She didn’t plan on talking to them for quite a while.

  She slumped onto the couch and peered out the windows. At night, the mountains formed a dark silhouette on the horizon against the stars. Such a different sky than the one she saw in Seattle. In the city, a person could barely see the stars at all. Here they were brighter than scattered diamonds.

  If Kate’s parents had asked her if she wanted to stay in Arizona, she wouldn’t have known how to answer. She loved being outside in the sunshine every day. And horseback riding. And the sunsets. But another part of her wanted to quit ranching all together. The smell of manure. The ever-present flies. The early mornings. And the cows had pushed into her, head butted her, stepped on her feet, and knocked her over.

  Could you love and hate a thing at the same time?

  Then there was Landon. He seemed to be as much a part of Arizona as the palo verde trees and ocotillo that dotted the landscape. Her feelings for him, despite her best attempts, hadn’t dimmed at all. At church, she’d barely heard a word the pastor had spoken since she and Landon broke up. She spent the entire sermon stealing glances at him.

  What would she be doing right now if she’d never mistrusted Landon? He’d be over here, comforting her about her lost cattle. His arm would be around her shoulder, and she’d rest her head against his chest. She’d tell him her worries that someone in the community had stolen her cattle because they disliked her. And Landon would say something to make her laugh like, “Don’t be silly. There are easier ways to snub you. The folks at church are managing just fine without risking jail time.”

  He wasn’t here, though.

  The Wyle Away was close by. A person could walk the distance easily enough. And yet Landon seemed so very, very far away.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  On Friday, Kate placed Coyote Glen ads on online destination wedding sites and then drove to town with flyers and put them everywhere she could. She’d already checked out caterers, knew where to rent tables, and had bought strings of lights, table clothes, and vases. One of the caterers was quite friendly when Kate asked for estimates. “I’m so glad you’re doing weddings,” the woman said. “That’s a much better idea than a western-themed golf course.”

  Either the woman was a friend of the Wyles, or people in Bisbee just hated golf. Kate didn’t clarify that her wedding venue plans were a temporary venture. If people eased up on their dislike of her, she wasn’t about to set them straight.

  She got a call from an interested bride the next afternoon. A woman named Cassie Coleman set up a time to look at the ranch the next Monday with her mother. Kate had meant to take photos of the wedding arches with floral garlands for her website and decided that Monday would be a perfect day to do that. The Colemans would not only see the gazebo and the lighting, they’d see beautiful garlands too. The place would be irresistible.

  She mowed the lawn, pulled weeds, trimmed bushes, and strung lights from the trees to the back patio. They looked like a canopy of stars.

  In between
those chores, she called her insurance agent to find out how long it usually took to settle a claim. Judging by the breed and age of her missing cattle, Kate estimated the check would be between thirty-five and fifty thousand, but she couldn’t start looking for new cattle until she knew her budget.

  Her agent gave her a vague answer about waiting on details from the police report to start processing the claim. In other words, they weren’t in a hurry.

  She called Officer Kahale to see how long the police report would take.

  “I’ll look into it for you,” he said.

  “I appreciate that.” Since she had him on the phone, she added, “Has Jake given you the name of his accomplice?”

  “I don’t have any new information I can share with you at this time.”

  So probably not.

  He paused. “However, just a word to the wise. The next time you hire a foreman, you really ought to run a background check.”

  That sounded ominous. What had Gary done? “Thanks,” she said. Was thanks even the right response? She wasn’t sure. She was too busy wondering about Gary’s past.

  After Kate hung up with Officer Kahale, she googled Gary’s name. She came up with two hundred and twenty-three million links of every Gary Williams on the planet. She spent several minutes searching through Gary’s employment contract for a middle name but only came up with the letter T. Though she wasn’t sure why, that addition made the number of links go up. She added a few other search terms including “criminal record.” That one got pages of ads for services that did background searches.

  Before she paid for one of those, she probably needed Gary’s middle name. He’d gone to Bisbee High, so she might be able to find that information in an old yearbook. The school must keep copies of those somewhere. She glanced at the clock. Four-thirty. The schools were closed.

  She wasn’t patient enough to wait until Monday to find out about his background. He’d lived in Arizona, Nevada, and Wyoming, so if he’d committed any crimes, they’d probably happened in those states. Although, he’d mentioned another place in Texas, once: the Pico Rio Ranch. She remembered the name because she’d thought it should be the Pico Rio Ranchero. Really, if you were going to use Spanish in a name, you should commit to it all the way.

  Her father hadn’t mentioned Texas when he’d been extolling Gary’s expertise. Perhaps Gary hadn’t included that ranch in his resume on purpose. Perhaps he’d gotten in trouble in Texas.

  Aa internet search revealed the Pico Rio’s number and the name of the owner, Earle Hooper. Kate could pretend to be a prospective employer, ask Mr. Hooper what he knew of Gary, and see what he told her.

  She hesitated before dialing. For all she knew, Mr. Hooper was on good terms with Gary and would tell him a woman had called and asked about him. Gary might figure out she’d been snooping.

  Then again, Officer Kahale told her she should have checked his background. What if she was in danger? She needed to know if she could trust Gary. She blocked her number, made up a ranch name, and called Earle Hooper.

  After a few moments, he answered. “Hello?”

  Kate broke into her spiel about checking Gary’s references for a foreman position, ending with, “What can you tell me about him?”

  Mr. Hooper gave a gruff laugh. “I can tell you that Gary is stupid, but not stupid enough to give anybody my number for a reference. Who is this really?”

  Well. Mr. Hooper had seen through her ruse pretty quickly.

  In the pause of her hesitation, he added, “Are you some sort of private investigator?”

  “No. Have private investigators asked about him?” Because that would be an obvious red flag.

  “Not yet, but it wouldn’t surprise me. So why are you really calling?”

  Mr. Hooper didn’t sound like a friend of Gary’s. Kate decided to tell him the truth. “My parents hired him as our foreman, and now I’m wondering about his past. He let it slip once that he’d worked for you.”

  “Oh,” Earle said, mollified. “In that case, my advice is to find someone else before you lose all your cattle.”

  Her stomach dropped. “You mean because he’s incompetent or because he steals them?”

  “One doesn’t exclude the other, does it?”

  That was not a comforting response. “Twenty-six of mine have already disappeared.”

  Mr. Hooper grunted. “Doesn’t surprise me. In the two years he worked for me, I lost nearly sixty head. I’ve had cattle stolen before, but never that many and never that consistently. I put more cameras out, did more patrols. Didn’t turn up anything. He knew where the cameras were, and he knew my schedule. Then one night I came home early from a trip and caught Gary and two others red-handed, loading some steers into their trailer. I fired all three on the spot.”

  “Did you have them arrested?” This, she supposed, was what was in Gary’s record. Her father definitely should have known about a charge of cattle theft before hiring the guy.

  “I didn’t have any proof they’d stolen the others. Besides, the insurance had already cut me checks for the rest, and they won’t pay if it’s an employee who’s done the stealing. I didn’t dare try and pin the past thefts on Gary, but you can bet he was responsible.”

  When Mr. Hooper began this story, Kate had thought the most shocking thing she’d hear would be a list of Gary’s crimes. But no. The most shocking thing was the phrase: the insurance won’t pay if an employee has done the stealing.

  If Gary had taken her cattle, she wanted justice. But if he was convicted, she would be out at least thirty-five thousand dollars. She couldn’t recover from that. She’d lose the ranch.

  Her stomach had gone beyond dropping; it plunged to her toes, then shot straight to her throat. The insurance premiums Kate had dutifully paid every month—those wouldn’t even matter. “That isn’t fair,” she sputtered. “I didn’t choose who stole my cattle. I didn’t condone it.” Of course the people most likely to steal cattle would be the ones who knew how to work with them. “So, the insurance only pays if your cows are stolen by beauticians and lunch ladies?”

  “Your policy might be different,” Mr. Hooper said. “My advice is fire him, take the insurance check, and don’t look for evidence linking him to the crime.”

  “Just let him off scot-free?”

  “Karma will catch up with him eventually. She can kick harder than a thousand-pound bull.”

  So far karma hadn’t done a very good job. The only one getting kicked was Kate. The police had Jake in custody, and he could implicate Gary at any moment. He might have already done so.

  “Next time you hire a foreman,” Mr. Hooper continued, “make sure it’s someone trustworthy.”

  That was evidently harder than it seemed. She put a hand to her throbbing temple. “The foreman before Gary told my neighbor he’d sabotage my ranch for a price. How do I find someone who’s trustworthy?” She didn’t really expect Mr. Hooper to answer. She was just upset, complaining, and slightly hysterical.

  “Do your research,” he said. “You’ll never be a hundred percent certain. Important decisions always involve some risk. That’s just part of life. Use your best judgment.”

  Her best judgment didn’t have a great track record thus far. Mr. Hooper hadn’t been referring to her decision not to trust Landon, but the man’s words fell on her ears like a direct indictment. She’d been too afraid of the risk involved in loving him, and that had cost her everything.

  Kate thanked Mr. Hooper for his time, hung up, and got out her insurance policy. It contained pages of legalese. She skimmed through them until she came to theft coverage.

  And there it was. The exclusion for employee dishonesty clause.

  Her whole body shook. She felt like she might throw up. Gary, the man her parents had hired to help her run the ranch, had almost certainly betrayed her and stolen from her. If she told the police what she’d learned from Earle and they convicted Gary, she’d be so relentlessly far in debt, she’d lose the ranch. If she kept h
er mouth shut in hopes of getting the insurance check, her honesty meant nothing—all of her insistence to her parents that she wouldn’t make underhanded deals or compromise her integrity would just be posturing.

  Gary was going to have to answer for this. She called him. He didn’t pick up. She texted, asking where he was. Still no answer. She searched the barn and front pasture. He must have already gone back to the foreman’s cottage.

  She drove there, spitting gravel and dust. She’d almost taken her rifle, but even if Gary turned out to be the sort who got violent when confronted, he wouldn’t be intimidated by her gun. He knew her well enough to realize she wouldn’t actually use it on him. Instead, she’d rely on the can of pepper spray she carried in case she ran into unwelcome wildlife. If he tried anything, she would happily douse him with it.

  She banged on Gary’s door. The doorbell was insufficient to convey her feelings.

  The faint noise of some TV show drifted from inside. No sounds of footstep stirring. No answering calls. She pounded on the door again.

  He might be asleep. Or dead. One of his shady associates—or possibly karma—could have caught up to him. Kate tried the doorknob. Unlocked. She stepped inside.

  The place smelled like dirty laundry. A pair of dusty boots sprawled on the ground in front of her. Several boxes lined the walls, most opened and their contents in a jumble. It looked like he’d never actually unpacked but just got out things as he needed them.

  His open laptop sat on the coffee table, playing a basketball game. He laid passed out on the couch, one arm splayed over the back. Beer cans cluttered the ground by his feet. Drunk again. Or still. Neither would have surprised Kate.

  She strode over and shook his shoulder. “Gary, wake up!”

  He groggily lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. “What?”

  “Twenty-six cows. Why would you stab me in the back like that? You were supposed to be my father’s friend.”

  He sat up unsteadily, squinting like the light was too bright. “What?”