by Janet Dailey
“I’m not hungry,” Erin said, pushing out her chair and standing. “I’m going to my . . . room.” Her voice broke as she turned away and fled toward the hallway.
“Really, Will—” Rose began, but he cut her off.
“Stay out of this, Rose. Don’t encourage either of them. You’ll only cause trouble. Do I make myself clear?”
Rose sighed and nodded. “You do. But I need to say something. You inherited the traits that made Bull Tyler great. But you also got his stubborn, controlling nature, and that’s what’s coming out now. If you don’t rein yourself in and learn to bend, Will, you’ll lose your daughter, just as your father lost Beau.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LUKE HAD RISEN AT DAWN TO HELP WITH MORNING CHORES. HE was working in the stallion barn, forking fresh hay from a wheelbarrow into the feeders, when Will Tyler appeared in the open doorway.
Luke hadn’t seen much of the boss since his arrival on the Rimrock. But Will had struck him as a fair man, who trusted him to put in an honest day’s work. So far, their relationship had been distant but cordial. However, it was a very different Will who strode toward him now.
No words were needed. Will’s narrow-eyed gaze and the determined set of his jaw signaled trouble. And Luke was pretty sure what kind of trouble it was.
Luke laid the pitchfork across the wheelbarrow, straightened, and turned to face his employer. “What can I do for you, Mr. Tyler?” he asked, already knowing what the answer would be.
“You can leave my daughter the hell alone!” Will’s face was florid with rage. “She told me what was going on. You’ve got no business putting your filthy hands on her, or even talking to her.”
Luke chose to ignore the insult. “I would never hurt Erin, or bring her down in any way,” he said calmly. “I care about her, and she feels the same way about me.”
“Don’t you tell me how she feels!” Will’s voice was getting louder. “She’s an innocent girl! She has no idea what a man like you might be thinking. Turn her head with pretty words, and the next thing you know, you’ll have her down in the hay! Or maybe you think she’s got money, and you want to get your hands on the ranch. Whatever your game is, I won’t allow you to ruin her reputation and her life!”
At the far end of the barn, a couple of cowboys were standing in the open doorway, probably getting an earful. Either Will couldn’t see them or he didn’t care.
“Nothing you say can change the way I feel about her,” Luke said. “But you’re her father, and I respect that. If you want me to go, just say so. I’ll be out of here today.”
Will cursed and shook his head. “This is a warning. I’m not firing you, but if I hear you’ve so much as laid a finger on my daughter, or tried to talk to her alone, you’ll be run off the place with a shotgun, and I’ll see that you never work in this county again! Hear?”
Before Luke could reply, Will seemed to realize that he had an audience. Rage exploding, he swung his attention toward the two cowboys in the doorway. “What the hell do you two galoots think you’re doing?” he yelled at them. “Get back to work!”
As the cowboys beat a fast retreat, Will stalked out of the barn. Luke watched him go. He’d hoped for a different response from Erin’s father, but this was pretty much what he’d expected. At least he hadn’t been fired. But defying Will’s warning would only get both him and Erin in trouble.
He knew what would come next—seeing Erin from afar, aching to hold her, or even just to ask her if she was all right—and knowing that her father, if he chose to do so, had the power to separate them forever.
What the hell, maybe he should just leave. Staying would only stir up trouble. Erin could do better than a rootless man with a clouded past and nothing of his own but his truck and trailer, his gear, and the skill in his hands. She could move on with her life, find someone who was right for her.
He’d seen her drive away with Rose and guessed, from the direction they were headed, that they’d be working on Rose’s property again. If he truly cared about what was best for Erin, he would pack up and leave now, without even saying good-bye.
He would do it, Luke decided. He would finish the morning chores, have some breakfast, then pack his clothes and gear in the trailer, leave an address where his pay could be sent, and go. His leaving would be best for all concerned.
As the memory of Erin in his arms, her passion, her sweet, young body pressing against his, flashed through his mind, Luke’s lips moved in a silent curse.
This was a hell of a time to realize that he loved her.
* * *
Will’s day had begun on an annoying note, and it wasn’t getting any better. When he’d gone out to confront Luke Maddox, he’d been spoiling to inflict some damage. But the man’s quiet dignity and his refusal to engage in any kind of verbal shouting match, which would have given Will an excuse to fire him, had taken the wind out of Will’s sails, leaving his anger still unvented.
It hadn’t helped Will’s mood to hear that a valuable heifer had broken her leg in the night and had been finished off by a pack of coyotes, or to check yesterday’s mail and find, enclosed with his bank statement, a reminder that the payment on his loan would be due the first day of October, along with the annual property tax a month later. The thought of how much money he’d have to come up with, and the consequences if he couldn’t pay, almost made him physically ill. But one thing was certain. He’d spent enough time wringing his hands and worrying. Whatever it took, he couldn’t give up. He had to save the ranch.
It was time he talked to the bank again. If they wouldn’t redo the note or give him an extension—which they’d so far refused to do—he would need to pull himself together and come up with a realistic plan. Not just vague ideas, but solid numbers and projections on paper. How many cattle would he have to sell? How many horses? What about the land? Would the syndicate buy a parcel to expand the old Prescott Ranch? How much would they pay for what they wanted?
He would talk to people, make phone calls, get it all down in black and white. And he would need to involve Erin. If anything were to happen to him, the responsibility for saving the Rimrock would fall to her.
Last night, when he’d forbidden her to see Luke Maddox, she’d declared that she wasn’t a child. Fine. He’d allowed her to be a child long enough. It was time she stepped out of her girlish, romantic world and took on her duties as the future head of the Rimrock family.
Will hadn’t seen Erin since last night. When she hadn’t joined him for breakfast, he’d looked outside and noticed the missing station wagon. A brief panic had struck him. What if she’d run away? But then Carmen had told him that Erin and Rose had eaten early and gone to work on Rose’s property.
Will had masked his relief with a shrug. At least his daughter wasn’t with Maddox. But it was damned annoying that Rose had taken Erin’s side against him. Now he had two stubborn women to contend with.
He’d hoped to take Erin to town with him, so that she could see and hear for herself where they stood with the bank. Maybe then she’d be more interested in the ranch and less interested in her own love life. But never mind, Will told himself as he went out to his pickup truck. He wanted to confront the bank president now, while he had a head of steam worked up. Otherwise, he’d be liable to put it off, letting other urgent matters interfere. Now, while he could still maneuver, was the time to get a solid plan in place.
He was climbing into his truck when, from inside the house, he heard the shrill ringing of the landline phone in his office. He was tempted to rush back inside and pick up the call. But no, Carmen could answer the phone. She knew where he was going, and she could take a message.
With the phone still ringing, he climbed into the cab, started the motor, and headed for town.
* * *
Erin had found some leftover posts and chicken wire in one of the sheds. Now she and Rose were working to fence off the grave of Rose’s grandfather, Professor Cletus McAdoo. It was hard work. The metal posts were de
signed to be hammered into the ground, but pounding the points into the hard earth had proven to be more than the two women could do. Instead they were forced to dig a hole for each post.
“I’m glad we got an early start on this,” Erin said. “We’ve barely begun, and the day’s already getting warm.”
Rose thrust her shovel into the dirt. Again, today, she’d strapped on her pistol. “Thanks again for helping me. I could never have managed this on my own. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more help with your dad last night. I tried to soften him up before you came in, but it wasn’t enough.”
“It’s all right. I should’ve known what he’d say when I told him I wanted to be with Luke. Why does he have to be so judgmental?”
“Your father loves you,” Rose said. “He only wants to keep you safe.”
“Oh, I know.” Erin tossed a shovelful of dirt out of the post hole she was digging. “Ever since I was thirteen and got kidnapped by that awful woman, he hasn’t let me out of his sight. But I’m not thirteen anymore. Why can’t he see that?”
“He can see it, dear. And it scares him to death.”
“But Luke’s a good man. Why else would he insist on letting my father know we were seeing each other?”
“I agree with you,” Rose said. “But your father’s being cautious. Now that your mother’s gone, you’re all he has—you and the ranch. You can’t blame him for wanting to protect you and keep you close.” Rose straightened, massaging the small of her back with one hand. “For now, I hope you’ll do as he says and keep your distance from Luke. If the two of you are meant to be together, love will find a way.”
But what if Rose was wrong? Erin thought. What would she do if she came back to the ranch to find that Luke had already been fired, packed his things, and left?
Or what if she found him leaving? Would he take her with him? Would she go?
She picked up a post and stood it upright in the hole she’d dug. “Can you steady this while I fill in the dirt?”
Rose put down her shovel and moved to hold the post, keeping it centered in the hole. “What about the flowers?” she asked. “Are you going to see Kyle again?”
“I don’t want to. It would only encourage him.” Erin shoveled the loose earth around the post and packed it down. It wouldn’t hold securely, but once the fence was done, it should be enough to discourage wandering cattle until Rose could enclose her entire yard.
“In that case, I hope you can have a friendly parting,” Rose said. “But Kyle strikes me as a young man who doesn’t like taking no for an answer.”
“Then maybe it’s time he learned. I wouldn’t mind staying friends with him, but after the last time I turned him down, I don’t know if that’s possible. I just hope he doesn’t make trouble for Luke.”
“Then don’t give Kyle any reason to make trouble. Until things get better around here, you and Luke will be walking a fine line. Try not to cross it.”
“Thanks. That’s good advice.” Erin paced off the hole for the second of four fence posts and started digging. The morning sun cast lacy patterns through the trees. Blackbirds called in the willows that grew along the creek. Water gurgled and splashed over the stones.
The morning was as cheerful and pleasant as anyone could wish. Given such a fine beginning to the day, it was hard to believe that anything could go wrong. So why, as she worked beside Rose, did Erin sense a vague darkness pressing down on her, like a whispered warning that everything she cherished was at risk?
* * *
Will had spent nearly an hour in the bank—all but the last fifteen minutes of it waiting to see the president, Sim Bartlett. He needn’t have bothered. Bartlett’s answer was the same as before. The payment was due as scheduled. If it wasn’t made by October 1, along with two years’ back taxes a month later, the Rimrock would be in foreclosure.
As if he needed more bad news, Bartlett had let it slip that an agent for the syndicate that owned the Prescott place had been asking about the Rimrock and the status of the loan. That could only mean one thing. The syndicate people were waiting for the Rimrock to go into foreclosure so they could buy it at a bargain price. There was no way they would buy land or livestock from Will. Not when the bastards were waiting like vultures for him to default on the loan. And Sim Bartlett was probably getting a fat piece of the action.
So scratch that option. Never mind. Somehow he’d find another way. But right now he needed a cold beer.
The Blue Coyote had just opened. Will parked in the meager patch of shade on the north side. Since the AC had gone out on his truck, any measure to keep the blistering sun off the cab was worth the trouble.
The look of the old bar hadn’t changed much over the years. The blue neon coyote on the sign out front had been a fixture for at least fifty years. But when former sheriff Abner Sweeney had taken the place over from Stella Rawlins, he’d kicked out the drug dealers and closed the upstairs room where the waitresses had carried on a side business.
Portly, bald, and easygoing, Abner was better at bartending than he’d ever been at enforcing the law. “Your usual, Will?” he asked.
Will nodded and laid a bill on the bar. Abner gave him change, whipped a bottle of Corona out of the cooler, and opened it. Will muttered his thanks and settled into a quiet corner booth. He hoped Abner wouldn’t try to start a conversation. He didn’t feel like talking. Hell, he didn’t even feel like breathing, but he had to keep doing it.
A couple of regulars came in and sat at the bar. Will knew them, but he kept quiet, nursing his beer and pondering his choices.
One thing was clear—he was wasting time when he needed to be acting. He would finish the beer, go home, and call a meeting with Erin, Sky, and maybe Rose, who wasn’t directly involved, but might have some good ideas. They would assess the ranch’s resources and somehow come up with a workable plan to save the Rimrock. No plan could succeed without hard and bitter sacrifices. But they would do whatever it took to save the Tyler legacy.
Still lost in thought, Will left the bar and crossed the parking lot to his truck. His biggest worry was for Erin. She loved the Rimrock—the land, the cattle and horses, and the rhythm of daily life, from morning chores to watching the sun set over the caprock. She’d been raised on the ranch, and she’d never wanted to be anywhere else. His failure could take all that away from her, leaving her with nothing but a broken heart.
With the windows down, he drove north on Main Street and took the main highway out of town. By now it was late morning. Heat waves rose from the asphalt. A farm truck passed him headed toward town. Otherwise there was no traffic. People who had errands would be apt to run them earlier, before the stifling midday heat set in.
He passed the black skid marks and smashed fence where Kyle Cardwell had swerved off the road to avoid hitting the cow. Erin had told him that Kyle had been driving seventy miles an hour when the crash happened. Maybe she’d been right to break up with him. Flowers or no flowers, a man who’d put her life at risk in a fit of temper wouldn’t be great husband material.
By the time Will turned off the highway onto the long, gravel lane leading to his ranch, his thoughts had moved on to other matters. It was a shame he’d never bothered to buy life insurance. At least, if something were to happen to him, Erin would be provided for. As it was—
What the hell?
He slammed on the brakes, swearing as the truck screeched to a stop. A large tractor tire was lying across the lane, almost as if some idiot had left it there on purpose. He could have gotten around it by driving with two wheels in the bar ditch, but he couldn’t leave it there to cause an accident for somebody else. The least he could do was drag it out of the way.
Will opened the door of the cab and stepped out. At that instant he glimpsed a movement in the brush beyond the bar ditch. In the next instant, the explosion that roared inside his head ended everything.
* * *
By the time Erin and Rose finished the makeshift fence and returned to the ranch, it was almos
t one o’clock. Carmen met them at the front door, a concerned look on her usually cheerful face.
“Is everything all right, Carmen?” Erin asked.
“I’m not sure,” Carmen said. “Mr. Maddox, the farrier, has gone.”
Erin’s heart dropped. Surely she’d misunderstood. Maybe Luke had just gone to town. “Gone where?” she asked.
Carmen shrugged. “Just gone, with his trailer and all his gear. He gave me a note for your father, with his hours and a forwarding address. I left it in the office. And he said he left a note for you in the duplex.”
“But when did he go?” Erin’s pulse was skittering. “How long ago?”
“Two or three hours, maybe. I was busy and didn’t pay attention to the time. You must be hungry. Would you like some lunch?”
“Not now, thanks. Where’s my father?”
“He went to town. He should be back soon.”
Rose put a hand on Erin’s arm. “Are you all right? You’re as white as a sheet.”
“I’m fine,” Erin lied. “I’m going out to the duplex—and I think I need to go alone.”
She cut through the kitchen and out the back door. As it closed behind her, she broke into a run. Her stomach churned. What had Will said to Luke that would make him pack up and leave? What if she never saw him again?
The duplex where Luke had stayed was stripped bare of his presence—the sheets folded on the bed, the towels in the laundry basket, Luke’s clothes, boots, and toiletries gone. Except for the folded note, torn from a yellow pad and tucked partway beneath a pillow, it was as if he’d never been there.
Erin’s hand shook as she picked up the folded paper with her name on the outside. She’d believed, in her naivete, that she’d found a man she could love. But it had all come down to this—an empty room and a folded note.
Bracing herself to have her heart broken, she opened the note. The message was brief, only a few lines.
Erin,
I care for you too much to stay and cause trouble. One day you’ll realize that my decision to leave was best for both of us. I will never forget you.
