Her Last Chance Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

  Clementine’s drawings were tacked to the bulletin board. A bouquet of black-eyed Susan mixed with daisy fleabane picked in the ranch pasture sat on the table between her bed and Clementine’s. Propped on Clementine’s bureau was a paper menu from the Timber Diner that the five-year-old liked to peruse on Saturday nights before she went to bed, even though she always ordered strawberry pancakes.

  Was this their forever home or only another stop on the way? Hannah couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that crowded her, dogging her steps as she locked the bunkhouse door and walked to the childcare building while holding her daughter’s hand. Once she dropped Clementine off, she started in the direction of the equine center.

  The air was thick with the humidity. Low clouds had lingered all week, trapping the world in a dismal gray blanket with either a threat or a promise of rain, depending on your perspective. Hannah preferred sunshine to this gloom.

  The light was on in the equine building and the repetitive sound of shovels mucking stalls could be heard as she walked to the office. Nose buried in his laptop, Tripp didn’t even look up when she walked in.

  “Lucy wants to meet with you at the admin building around nine if that works for you.”

  Good morning to you, too, Tripp.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Hannah kept her eye on the clock as she worked through the monthly ordering. “I’m ready to send out the feed order for July,” she said. “Anything special you wanted to add before I hit Send?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  The only sound in the office was the loud tick of the second hand on the industrial wall clock. It was five minutes to nine. Hannah turned off the monitor. At the last minute, she grabbed her purse from the desk drawer. Just in case.

  “I guess I’ll get going,” she murmured.

  Tripp merely nodded.

  Hannah counted her steps as she walked along the sidewalk to the administration building.

  “Fifty-seven.”

  Why was she nervous? Jake Maxwell had to be her father. What other explanation could there be for the letters to her mother?

  “Ninety-six.”

  What if he’s not? What then?

  She stood outside the admin building, staring at the double glass doors.

  Then I’ll start over. I know how to start over.

  Hannah opened the door and stepped inside. Her boots echoed on the tile floor as she walked up to the reception desk. Iris met her gaze.

  Was that pity in her eyes?

  “Good morning, Hannah.” Lucy’s admin put a smile on her face. “Is it still dreary out there?”

  “Uh, yes, still gray.”

  “We certainly could use the rain,” Iris continued.

  “Rain,” Hannah murmured, trying to focus. She glanced up at the clock. “I have a nine o’clock appointment with Lucy.”

  “Yes. Of course. Head on back to the conference room. She’s expecting you.”

  When she entered, Lucy greeted her with a smile. “Hannah.” Emma was also in the room. Both stood when she entered and both wore awkward smiles on their faces.

  “I hope you don’t mind that baby Daniel is here.” Lucy waved a hand toward the portable play yard in the back of the room.

  “No. Of course not.”

  Lucy picked up the landline on the table. “Iris, hold all our calls. I’d like no interruptions.”

  Hannah swallowed back the dread. “DNA results?”

  Emma glanced at Lucy, who nodded and shuffled through the files in front of her. “Hannah, I’ve given this a lot of thought and prayer. I believe our father was a very close friend to your mother. Unfortunately, we, like you, have very few physical memories.” She paused and met Hannah’s gaze.

  Hannah heard everything in Lucy’s pained expression and bowed her head before the words reached her ears.

  “The results are back on the DNA test. They show no match.”

  No match.

  No family. No plan. No resources.

  Nothing.

  Nausea choked Hannah. Her heart pounded against her temples and for a moment darkness swallowed her. She gripped the chair arms, willing herself not to pass out. “I should leave.”

  “Leave?”

  She reached for her purse. “Leave Big Heart Ranch. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Emma said. Anguish laced her words. “I think we can conclude that your mother and my father must have been very close friends who communicated during a difficult time in her life.”

  “And I jumped to conclusions because I needed to believe...” Hannah couldn’t say the words aloud. I needed to believe that I was connected to someone. That I had a family. That I mattered to someone.

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” Emma said. “Jake and Anne’s friendship brought you to Big Heart Ranch. You have to believe that you’re here for a reason. I do.”

  “Exactly,” Lucy said. “Please, Hannah, we’re here for you.” Lucy reached out to touch her hand. “We don’t want you to leave.”

  Hannah swallowed. “I need to think.”

  “Sure. Absolutely,” Lucy said. “Take the rest of the day off if you need to.”

  Clementine. She had to find her daughter.

  The sky opened up as she walked back to the childcare building. Rain soaked her, drowning her tears.

  “Here, take this umbrella for Clementine,” her daughter’s teacher said.

  Hannah carried Clementine to the Honda parked behind the bunkhouse before she dashed into the cottage to collect a change of clothes for her and Clementine. She opened her bureau and shoved her hand to the back and pulled out an envelope filled with crisp bills. All her paychecks from the ranch that she had cashed and squirreled away for the future. A future she was unsure of, but a future far from this particular moment in time.

  Hannah looked at the scribbled tally on the outside of the envelope.

  It wouldn’t get them far. Back to Missouri and then they’d have to find another furnished apartment and a reliable vehicle.

  Maybe she should have taken the offer from her grandmother’s estate. Then she wouldn’t have to have a backup plan.

  No. That money came with too many strings. She could never do that to Clementine or her baby.

  “But Momma. Today is watercolor paint day,” Clementine said when Hannah returned to the Honda and checked the straps on the booster seat.

  “I’ll buy you some paints today. Let’s take a ride and get ice cream for lunch and pancakes for dinner.” She just needed a little time to think and plan. Everything would be fine. It was always fine once she had a plan.

  The little car made a funny noise before the engine finally turned over. Hannah released a breath. The windshield wipers slapped an even rhythm as the rain beat down on the windows.

  Miles down the road, on the outskirts of Timber, the car began to sputter. Hannah revved the engine. That helped for a moment, but relief was short-lived when minutes later the Honda coughed and choked in earnest.

  “Don’t die on me now, baby,” she muttered as she pulled the vehicle off the road. Another shudder and the vehicle gasped its last breath.

  Hannah slapped her palm against the steering wheel of the Honda.

  “Momma, is everything okay?”

  “Just fine, sweetie.” She fumbled in her purse for the ranch cell phone Tripp insisted that she keep with her at all times.

  No. She wasn’t going to call Tripp. She could handle this. She’d handled the last seven years without Tripp Walker saving her. Hannah nearly laughed out loud at the idea of Tripp being her knight in shining armor.

  The man would give her a lecture about being an irresponsible mother before he’d do any saving.

  “Momma, I’m hungry.”

  Hannah checked the time on the phon
e. “I guess you usually get a morning snack around now at school.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Let me see what I have in my bag.” Hannah foraged around the tote bag she’d grabbed and pulled out a box of animal crackers. “Will this do?”

  “Oh, yes, please.” Clementine reached forward and took the box. “My favorite. Thank you.”

  While Clementine ate and drew pictures in the condensation in the back seat window, Hannah took out her worn Bible. She flipped the pages, reading underlined verses.

  “Momma, what are you doing?”

  “Preserving my sanity.” She knew only too well that her daughter was going to ask another dozen questions before something else distracted her.

  “Momma, are you talking to yourself?”

  Hannah raised her head from the pages. “I’m talking to God, Clemmie.”

  “What’s He saying?”

  “Right now I’m doing all the talking.”

  “My teacher says you have to be silent sometimes so you can hear God.”

  She released a long sigh and couldn’t help but smile at the words. “That’s right.”

  Wiping the fog from her window, she peeked outside. The rain had stopped while they sat in the vehicle. Hannah rolled down the window a few inches and let the cleansing breeze, ripe with the sweet fragrance of grass and plants, fill the car.

  “Are we going to stay here all day?” Clemmie asked.

  “No. We are definitely not going to stay here all day.” Hannah met her daughter’s expectant gaze in the rearview mirror. The five-year-old’s expression clearly asked, What’s the plan?

  “See if you can find a camel in that box, okay?”

  Hannah closed her own eyes for a moment. When she opened them, a flash of red and blue lights in the rearview mirror caught her attention. Hannah turned around to see a Timber police vehicle approaching. Her stomach did a complete drop to the floor.

  “Are we in trouble?” Clementine pushed her springy curls away from her face and turned around in her booster seat.

  “No, sweetie. The nice policeman is here to help us.” Because this day can’t possibly get any better, she silently added.

  The officer got out of his vehicle and approached. A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, he wore a gray Stetson with his dark gray uniform.

  “Ma’am, is there a problem?”

  “My vehicle died.”

  “I’ll call the Timber Garage. In the meantime, may I see your license and registration?”

  “Certainly, officer.” Hannah rummaged in her purse and handed over the paperwork and her license.

  He glanced from her license to her. “Missouri?”

  “I’m temporarily staying at Big Heart Ranch.”

  “That so? Haven’t had the pleasure.” He offered a hand. “I’m Chief Daniels.”

  “Hannah Vincent and—”

  “I’m Clementine,” her daughter piped in.

  “Pleased to meet you.” The man grinned as he peeked into the back seat to look at Clemmie. “I’ve got a few grandchildren about her age.” He nodded toward his cruiser. “It’ll take a moment to run this information.”

  A few minutes later Chief Daniels approached the Honda again. “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle.”

  Hannah swallowed as adrenaline shot her heart rate into overdrive. “My daughter, too?”

  “No, ma’am. Your daughter can stay in the car while you and I chat.”

  She opened the door and stepped outside. “Ma’am, I need you to keep your hands where I can see them.”

  “Yes, sir.” Hannah folded her hands as if in prayer.

  “Are you aware this vehicle is stolen?”

  “What?”

  “Plates and VIN match up to a vehicle stolen from Oklahoma City six months ago.”

  “I have a bill of sale from a used car dealer in Denver.”

  “Do you have that paper with you?”

  “Yes. Of course. I have all the paperwork the dealer gave me.” A fat drop of rain plopped onto her face. Hannah brushed it away with the back of her hand.

  Chief Daniels glanced up at the sky where dark clouds had gathered. “Tell you what. I’m going to take you down to the station and we’ll sort it all out in the comfort of our brand-new climate-controlled building in downtown Timber.”

  “Is that necessary? I told you I work at Big Heart Ranch.”

  “Just until all this is straightened out.” Chief Daniels opened Clementine’s door.

  “Momma, are we going to ride in the police car?”

  “Yes, Clementine. Our car is broken so the nice police chief is going to give us a ride.”

  “Yippee,” Clementine said as she unfastened her booster seat and leaped into her mother’s arms.

  “This wasn’t the plan I hoped for, Lord,” Hannah said under her breath as she scooped up Clemmie.

  Overhead, thunder cracked and a streak of light shot across the sky like a bottle rocket.

  “Fine,” she muttered, closing her mouth.

  * * *

  “Seriously, Chief? You arrested a single mother and a five-year-old?”

  “Now calm down, Tripp. I didn’t exactly arrest them. Took her statement and Ms. Vincent asked me to call you.”

  Tripp glanced around the stainless steel and tile office. “Where are they?”

  “They’re in the interrogation room. I gave the little girl milk and cookies and her momma is reading back issues of Cowboy magazine.”

  “Why are you holding her?”

  “She’s driving a stolen vehicle. Well, not exactly driving. That thing is held together with two rubber bands and a paper clip. We towed it to our impound lot.” Chief Daniels frowned. “I’ll have to check on the protocol, but you know, with a child involved in this situation, I may need to call social services.”

  Tripp winced, his gut taking a hit at the words. Not Clementine. No way was that going to happen.

  “Is that necessary? Hannah is my assistant at the ranch.”

  “She is?”

  “Fact is we’re friends. Closer than friends.”

  Chief Daniels blinked and his eyes popped. “You are?”

  “Yes, sir. We’re, uh... She and I are...” He took off his cowboy hat, slapped it back on and cleared his throat as he worked desperately to find a way around the situation without digging himself any deeper. “Close,” Tripp repeated.

  A grin of pure surprise split the chief’s face. “Well, I’ll be. Why didn’t you say so? Wait until I tell the missus.” Chief Daniels shook his head again. “Sure are closemouthed about your personal life. I suppose we can dispense with calling social services under the circumstances.”

  Relief ripped through Tripp. “Thank you. Hannah and Clementine live at Big Heart Ranch.”

  “I can remand her to your custody then while I turn the vehicle over to the Denver Police. I’ve taken a full report. She claims she paid cash for the vehicle right before she drove out here.” He met Tripp’s gaze. “That true?”

  “Doesn’t she have a bill of sale?”

  “Yeah, but I called over to Denver. Can’t find any trace of the dealer. They admit he could have been there, but the lot is empty. Nothing but cement and an empty building.”

  “Hannah arrived in late May. Been at the ranch all this time. Lucy hired her and did a complete background check.”

  “That makes two of us. She’s clean. Not even a traffic ticket.” Chief Daniels scratched his head. “Though I should ticket her for not getting the car registered. She’s been here six weeks.”

  “The car wasn’t worth registering.”

  “Just the same.”

  “Come on, Chief. Cut her some slack. Hannah drove here straight from her grandmother’s funeral in Colorado with a tank of gas, her little
girl, and not much more than that.”

  “Fine. Fine. This is an election year. And I guess I do owe Big Heart Ranch a few favors for making me look good by breaking up that horse thieving ring last year.” He smiled. “And Mrs. Daniels does like happy endings. Can’t wait to give her a call.”

  Tripp squirmed at the words. “So can she go?”

  “Sure, don’t have to tell you she shouldn’t leave town, in case the Denver Police have questions. For now, we’ll consider this poor judgment.” He clucked his tongue. “Shame she’s out what she paid for the vehicle. But at least she’s not in jail. Next time you might consider helping your little woman with her vehicle purchasing decisions.”

  Tripp nearly choked. Little woman. Hannah would have something to say about that term.

  “How soon until you can release her?” Tripp asked.

  “Now works for me.” Chief Daniels walked down to a small room with a two-way window on the outside. He opened the door. “Ms. Vincent, your... Tripp Walker is here.”

  Hannah jumped up, her gaze shifting to him with relief. If only she looked that glad to see him all the time.

  “Mr. Tripp,” Clementine cried. “We got to ride in a police car with the lights and sirens.”

  Tripp ran a hand over his face. “Really, Chief?” he muttered.

  “The little girl asked for all the bells and whistles. I was happy to oblige.”

  “Are we leaving?” Clementine asked, her gaze going from Tripp to Chief Daniels.

  The chief nodded as he handed Hannah a sheaf of paperwork. “Sorry for the inconvenience, ma’am. Here’s a copy of your paperwork, just in case.”

  When they stepped into the central area of the station, Hannah glanced at the stack of her belongings on the station floor, along with Clementine’s booster seat. “Thank you for getting my stuff from the Honda, Chief Daniels.”

  She reached for a box, but Tripp intercepted and grabbed everything in two hands.

  “Clementine, can you take your backpack?” he asked the little girl.

  “Yes, Mr. Tripp.” Clementine smiled as she followed him through the double doors and out of the police station. “They have the best cookies there,” she said with one last glance through the glass.