by Carly Bloom
“Believe me,” Ruben said. “I get it. And you’re cursed, brother.”
Ford thought about all the ranches he’d worked. About how he’d worn loneliness like a comforting blanket.
Ruben seemed to snap out of it. He shook his shoulders and leaned over and rubbed Boo’s belly. “Well, you know what to do if you want to lift the curse.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. You do. You’ve got to take a risk, muchacho.”
“I’ve already lost the only thing that mattered,” Ford said. “I’ve lost Claire.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” a deep voice said from behind them. Both men turned to see Gerome standing there.
“Gerome, let me help you.” Ford grabbed the older man’s arm so he wouldn’t fall. The ground was uneven and scattered with rocks, and he shouldn’t be walking unassisted as weak as he still was.
Ford’s face was hot with embarrassment. How much had Gerome heard?
“Believe it or not, I was young and dumb once,” Gerome said. “Thought I knew what I wanted. Didn’t have a clue as to what I needed. But I thought for sure that it wasn’t this ranch.”
Ford stared at Gerome. “You didn’t want this place?”
“I wanted to see the world,” Gerome said. “I thought I was too big for Rancho Cañada Verde. Too big for this town. And I was terrified of a pretty little schoolteacher who seemed hell-bent on roping me.”
Ford grinned. “It looks like she roped you, though.”
“She had to chase me first,” Gerome said. “And when she caught me, well, let’s just say that I’m lucky she didn’t have a Nerf gun.”
Ford shook his head and held in a laugh.
“It turns out I wasn’t too big. I was too small.”
Even ill, Gerome Kowalski was larger than life. “But, Gerome—”
“I rose to the occasion, son. Accepted my responsibilities and all of the curses and blessings that came with them. And you can, too. I wouldn’t be standing here next to you if I thought otherwise.”
Ford knew he should say something. Maybe just a simple Thank you for believing in me would suffice. But the words were stuck in his throat, and his chest felt tight. It was embarrassing.
“You two better finish up your business,” Gerome said. “Or Ford won’t make it to the ball on time.”
Had Gerome been on his feet for too long? Was the sun too hot? Because he sure as shit sounded confused.
“I’ve got no business with Ruben,” Ford said. “And I’m not going to the damn ball.”
Gerome raised an eyebrow as if he knew differently. “Ruben is selling his little house and five acres. I thought you might be interested.”
Ford couldn’t believe his ears. Ruben was selling?
The western sky looked like glowing embers in a campfire. Lightning bugs flickered; the frogs were croaking with tentative, sleepy voices; and the Rio Verde snaked lazily through the valley below.
It was the prettiest spot on the ranch, but that’s not what had Ford’s mind racing and his pulse pounding. It was the sense that he was meant to be here. Right now. At this very moment. With these people who felt like family. And on this ranch that felt like home.
Only one thing was missing, and that was Claire. Was it possible that he still had a chance of having everything he’d ever dreamed of? His pulse slowed as the walls started going up.
You don’t deserve it.
“You’re squeezing my arm pretty tightly, son,” Gerome said.
Oh dear God. He had the poor man in a death grip, but Gerome didn’t seem to mind. His eyes twinkled.
Ford looked at Ruben. “You’re selling?”
“It’s time.”
“But this land has been in your family since forever. Why is it time?”
“The smoke led you here. This is your home.”
Gerome snorted a little, and Ford shook his head. “Cut that crap out, Ruben. Why are you doing this?”
“Let’s just say I’ve got my own curse to deal with.”
“A woman?”
Ruben shrugged. Smiled a little. “A daughter in Chicago.”
Boo walked over to Gerome and sniffed his feet. Then he walked back to Ruben and plopped down in the dirt.
“Well, that’s good news,” Ruben said. “Boo didn’t sit on your feet.”
Gerome chuckled. “I’m mighty relieved.”
Ford’s mind felt foggy and numb, but he figured he and Ruben had a few details to work out. What if he couldn’t even afford this place? “How much are you asking, Ruben?”
Gerome nodded at Ruben. “He got this place for next to nothing, and I’m assuming he’ll sell it for a reasonable price.”
Ford swallowed. Was this really happening?
“You’ve got about five minutes to settle your business,” Gerome said, turning to walk back to the truck.
“Why five minutes?”
“You’ve got a ball to get ready for.”
“I told you. I’m not going—”
“There was a fancy gray tuxedo delivered from a rental company yesterday. Claire said she forgot to cancel the order. It has your name on it, so I figure you might as well wear it.”
The idea of going to the Boots and Ball Gowns gala made Ford’s blood run cold. He didn’t really like dressy events. But Claire would be there.
Neutral territory. Presumably void of Nerf guns.
It would be a good place for groveling.
He swallowed down a lump of anxiety, because he had to take a risk, didn’t he? Curse or no curse.
“Aw, hell,” Ford said. “Gerome, can I change at your house?”
Gerome grinned and headed back to the truck. “Finish up your business, Romeo,” he called over his shoulder. “And then we’ll get you cleaned up.”
A short while later, Ford stared at himself in Miss Lilly’s mirror. The tuxedo fit pretty well, but he couldn’t help but tug at the collar.
Miss Lilly fussed with brushing imaginary lint off the jacket. “My, but you are a handsome one,” she said.
Ford couldn’t help it. He blushed.
“Make sure you’re back by midnight,” Gerome said.
“What happens if I’m not? Will I turn into a pumpkin?”
“No. But you might be late for work in the morning. And I won’t stand for that.”
This was confusing as all get-out. Gerome had hired Bryce and Beau to be the foremen. “Work?”
“I’ve got two foremen. I’ve got a vice president of marketing. And now I need a ranch manager so Lilly and I can take a damn vacation.”
“Are you asking me to be your ranch manager? Permanently?”
“I sure as hell am. Are you interested in coming back to Rancho Cañada Verde as the big boss?”
Ford took his hat off and held it in his hands. He didn’t feel too big for this ranch; he felt too small. But if Gerome Kowalski thought he could manage it, then he damn well could.
Gerome was never wrong.
“There is nothing on God’s green earth that I’d like more.”
It felt as if the curse—the one that didn’t exist—had already lifted.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Claire could hardly believe her eyes. The last time she’d seen the Village Chateau transformed to this extent, Anna had turned it into a haunted house for a Halloween gala.
“You know how much I hate to give Anna credit,” Maggie said, gazing at the ceiling, which was covered in a million sparkly lights. “But this place looks like it’s straight out of a fairy tale. Did you see the Cinderella carriages lined up outside?”
Miss Mills walked up. “That’s the church’s doing,” she said. “We rented them from Yellow Rose Pony and Buggy. Twenty dollars per person. The library gets one half, and the youth group gets the other. And it was my idea.”
“It was a good one,” Claire said. “And don’t you look lovely!”
That might be a bit of a stretch, but Miss Mills did look slightly less dour. She wore a green Sunday churc
h dress and, in keeping with the theme, sturdy black ankle boots.
“You girls look nice, as well,” Miss Mills said. “Although aren’t you cold? All those bare shoulders. Why don’t ladies wear shawls anymore? One would come in especially handy for you, Alice, seeing as how you’re missing about half your dress.”
“Oh my word,” Alice said, eyes sparkling. It was clear that she was so thrilled with the evening that she’d barely heard Miss Mills. “I’m beside myself. Look how many people are here!”
The lobby and ballroom—and probably the courtyard outside—were filled to capacity. The women wore gorgeous gowns and men wore…
Everything.
While a few were dressed formally, there were plenty of stubborn asses walking around in jeans or Western leisure suits.
Well, that was Big Verde for you. Claire wasn’t going to let it spoil her evening. What mattered was that people had turned out. Big time.
“Everyone looks wonderful, don’t they?” Alice asked.
“Well, except for RB Wright,” Maggie said. “He’s in overalls.”
Sure enough, RB Wright stood at the buffet table wearing denim overalls and loading things he couldn’t pronounce onto his plate.
“As long as he paid to get in, what do we care?” Claire said.
“I started counting heads earlier,” Alice said. “I gave up.”
“How many tickets did we sell?” Maggie asked.
“Four hundred,” Alice replied. “And we’ve reserved a few for the door. If we sell out, we’ll only be about six thousand dollars shy of our goal.”
Alice could hardly stand still, and she looked absolutely gorgeous. “What if we can actually build the library even better than it was before? Wouldn’t that be something?”
Claire loved seeing Alice so happy.
And speaking of happy, Maggie was also suddenly beaming. Claire didn’t need to look behind her to know what—or who—was making her face look like fireworks going off. Travis must have arrived.
“Oh my God,” Maggie said. “Would you look at my cowboy?”
Travis was so dang handsome even Claire got a little tickle in her tummy. He wore a black Western tuxedo jacket over a deep burgundy embroidered vest. Jeans on the bottom, but it was perfectly fine, because sexy. Big silver belt buckle. Dressy black boots. And a black felt hat on top.
He wrapped his arms around Maggie. “Well, if it isn’t Little Red Riding Hood,” he said, leaning over and nuzzling her neck. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hey, knock it off,” a low voice said, and they all looked up to see Bubba, with Trista on his arm. “If you folks can’t control yourselves, you’ll need to take it outside. This is a classy party. You can tell it’s classy by its lack of a nacho bar.”
“Yeah,” Claire said, raising an eyebrow. “There’s a shed out back if y’all need privacy.”
Maggie blushed until her cheeks were nearly the same color as her dress.
“Y’all hush,” she said.
Bubba wore a plain old suit that was probably reserved for weddings and funerals, and Trista wore the bridesmaid dress from Maggie’s wedding. Maybe they’d never grace the cover of a fashion magazine, but Bubba looked at Trista as if she’d hung the moon, and a small seedling of jealousy waved its little leafy hands at Claire again.
Bubba started bouncing on his feet as a popular Tejano song came on. Nobody loved to dance more than Bubba, and as Mexican gritos rang out across the ballroom, he looked at Trista and grinned. “Come on, Mama. Let’s cut a rug.”
Trista grabbed his hand, and the two of them headed for the dance floor.
“I suspect this is the last time I’m going to be this dressed up for a long while,” Maggie said. “Possibly for forever. It’s a shame that I don’t really feel like dancing.”
“We need to find you a seat where you can put your feet up,” Claire said.
“Good idea,” Travis agreed.
Just as they turned to head for a table, George Streleki walked up and tapped Maggie on the shoulder. “Guess what? We’ve got an offer on Petal Pushers.”
Claire’s heart nearly broke. In fact, it pretty much did. She thought she heard it crack.
Maggie stopped in her tracks. “Oh? That’s great news. How much?”
“Asking price. Earnest money in hand.”
“Wow. That’s fantastic!”
“They want to walk through the building again tomorrow morning. You should probably run by and tidy it up a little.”
“You bet,” Maggie said.
Claire squared her shoulders. “I’ll help. What time?”
Maggie looked at George. “Buyers are coming around nine,” he said.
“Yikes,” Maggie said. “That means we’re going to have to get there early.”
“Oh, and Claire,” George said, turning his eyes on her. “Tell your daddy I’m drawing up papers to accept that offer.”
Claire stared at George. Surely, he hadn’t just said what she thought he’d said. “Papers? What offer?”
“It has to do with the ranch. He’ll know what I’m talking about. Offers galore!” he said. “It’s been a good day in real estate.”
And with that, he walked off, leaving Claire devasted and shaking in his wake.
“What offer is he talking about?” Maggie asked.
Claire’s eyes filled with tears. How had this happened? After all her hard work, her dad was selling? And he hadn’t even told her. “I don’t know for sure,” Claire said. “But I think Dad just sold Rancho Cañada Verde.”
“No,” Maggie said.
Travis furrowed his brow. “That can’t be right, sweetheart. I don’t even…Hell. I don’t know what to say. My brain can’t accept it.”
Two years ago, when Travis discovered his father had left him a ranch burdened with back taxes, Claire’s dad bought the lien, just to give Travis time to save Happy Trails. How could that same man now be giving up his own ranch?
And he hadn’t even talked to Claire first.
The upbeat Tejano music stopped, and a screech of feedback made everyone wince and cover their ears. Alice had taken the stage.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Can I have everyone’s attention please?”
“That’s Alice?” Travis said. “Holy shit. She cleans up well.”
Beau and Bryce joined the group. “She sure as hell does,” Beau said.
He’d said it under his breath, but he was close to Claire’s ear, and she’d heard it. She raised an eyebrow at Beau. He blushed furiously and then continued looking at Alice like he was a puppy and she was a warm saucer of milk.
Poor Beau. Did he and Bryce know about the ranch?
Alice tapped the mic and blew in it, even though it was working just fine. “I want to thank all of you for coming and supporting the library. As of fifteen minutes ago, we were still six thousand dollars shy of our goal. But we’ve just had an anonymous donation, and we’re completely funded!”
The room erupted in deafening cheers and applause. Beau stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly, making Claire wince and cover her ears. She wanted to join in the celebration. This was what they’d been working for! But her heart was too heavy.
While everyone hugged and cheered and cried, she quietly slipped out to the courtyard.
Nobody would miss her. They were too busy having all their wildest dreams come true and their wishes granted and their hearts filled.
Meanwhile, her dreams had been crushed. Her wishes remained unfulfilled. And her heart was completely broken.
Again.
She found a small bench beneath a giant magnolia tree and sat down. She sighed and sniffled and tried to hold in the tears. But they came anyway.
She covered her face with her hands and crossed her legs. One of her stupid rhinestone spurs caught on the hem of her dress, and she yanked it loose, not caring if it pulled the satin or tore the tulle.
How had she ever believed she could write her own story? Fate—and men—kept getting
in the way.
* * *
The tuxedo felt awkward and was a little over the top. Ford might as well have just stepped off the set of an old Western, because the outfit was pure Gunsmoke, right down to the bolo tie. The jacket was gray—gunslinger style—with a super-fancy yoke. A black vest and black hat completed the look.
Claire had picked it out, so that meant she liked it.
He straightened the bolo tie, tilted his hat to just the right angle, and scanned the room.
He’d been here for about fifteen minutes, and in that time, it seemed like he’d seen everybody and his damn dog. But he hadn’t seen Claire.
“Did you find her?” Alice asked. “We were all talking to her earlier, so I know she’s here.”
“No,” he said. “And I’m a little worried, because I’d expect her to be the belle of the ball. Did something happen to upset her?”
Alice cocked an eyebrow. “You mean recently?”
Ford lowered his eyes. He’d upset Claire plenty, but probably not in the last fifteen minutes. “Yes.”
“Not that I know of. Why don’t you check the courtyard again? I’ll go look in the ladies’ room.”
“Thank you, Alice,” Ford said. “And congratulations on reaching your goal.”
Alice smiled and clasped her hands in front of her heart. “I still can’t believe it. If I ever learn who the anonymous donor is, he’s getting a big old kiss.”
Ford’s cheeks heated, and he hoped Alice couldn’t see the blush. Gerome was right about investing in your community. It felt good.
He had his town. And thanks to Gerome and Ruben—and a quick call to George Streleki—he had his ranch. The only thing missing was his woman, and nobody seemed to know where she was.
God knew he didn’t deserve her, but this was a magical night. Anything could happen.
He was just about to go back inside when he felt it.
Tug.
He turned just as Claire stood up from a bench hidden in the shadows.
Her beauty took his breath away. Knocked the air right out of him. And it wasn’t the dress, although he could see how lovely it was. And it wasn’t her hair, which was piled up in curls on top of her head.
It was just her. The very essence of her. Tough, yet soft. Strong, but vulnerable.
