by Cindy Kirk
His heart slammed against his ribs when he saw her. She was in the corral, riding Storm around the barrels. Even as he admired her form—the way she and the horse moved as one around the barrels in a kind of effortless dance—the speed concerned him.
Brad crossed the property to the corral in long, ground-eating strides. He was ready to call out when she saw him and pulled the horse up short.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The fear rising up inside him had his voice sounding harsh.
She took her time dismounting and ambled over to the fence, Storm’s reins held loosely in her hand. “How was your trip to town? Did you get your supplies?”
“What are you talking about?” Brad found it difficult to get back the image of her lying on the ground, blood seeping from her head.
“The supplies you went to town to get,” she reminded him, a smile hovering at the corners of her lips.
“Oh, yeah.” Brad lifted a hand and swiped the air. He couldn’t be bothered with discussing such trivial matters. Not when there was something so much more important to discuss. “What were you doing racing?”
“We weren’t racing. Just making a few slow trips around the barrels,” she said in a casual tone, as if it was no big deal. “We were barely moving.”
He might have second-guessed his first impression if not for the two bright guilty spots of color on her cheeks.
“It’s not safe,” he argued. “If you’d fallen—”
“I didn’t.”
“If you had, I’d have come home to find you lying on the ground with no one around to help.” The mere thought had his voice rising with anger and fear.
“Well, it’s not as if you’re always going to be around,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
The air seemed charged with a curious energy, almost a watchful waiting. Brad wanted to promise her that he’d always be there, but now wasn’t the time. Not until he’d taken care of business first.
“Don’t do it again,” he snapped.
“Is that an order?”
He wasn’t sure why she was being so difficult just as he wasn’t sure why he felt the desire to argue with her. Instead of giving in to the urge, he smiled.
“It’s a request,” he said in a conversational tone. “Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She met his gaze. After a moment she shrugged. “Okay.”
“I’ll help you with Storm.” He hopped the fence and took Storm’s reins.
The walk into the stable was heavy with silence.
Brad had just removed Storm’s saddle when his phone pinged. Several minutes later, once the horse was settled in her stall, he pulled out his phone and glanced at the readout.
When he looked up, Margot was staring curiously at him. “Something important?”
He hesitated. “I have some business in Los Angeles. Looks like I’ll be leaving from Missoula tomorrow. First flight out. I won’t be gone long. I’ll be back by the end of the week.”
She stared at him curiously as she removed Storm’s bridle. “What kind of business?”
“Nothing of concern to you.”
Though his words were spoken in an offhand manner, Margot felt as if she’d been slapped. He was shutting her out, telling her that his business—which likely had something to do with the Crawford enterprises—was none of hers.
It wasn’t that she was all that interested in knowing every single detail of what he had planned on his trip, she’d simply been curious, that’s all.
Margot stared at his closed expression and her heart broke, just a little.
She’d been right to start thinking of her future, to begin planning her next step, without considering her feelings for Brad.
By the way he was acting, it was obvious that whatever had been going on between them had been just a temporary thing.
* * *
Brad had obtained a meeting with Ryan Roarke the next day at his office in Los Angeles. He’d gotten to know the young attorney fairly well when Ryan had spent time in Thunder Canyon back in July.
He and Ryan were also related, sort of. If you counted the fact that Ryan’s sister Maggie was married to Brad’s brother, Jesse. Six months ago, the couple had given Brad a niece, Madeline.
Although Kalispell had any number of attorneys and Maggie was also an attorney, Brad chose to deal with Ryan on this particular matter. Better to keep the details from coming out in the Rambler’s column.
Done in walnut and teak, the attorney’s office was as polished as the man himself. Instead of sitting behind his large desk, Ryan greeted him at the door and showed him to a couple of leather chairs positioned off to the side.
“Sure you don’t want some coffee?” Ryan asked.
“I’d be happy to get you whatever you’d like to drink,” the pretty blonde who’d shown Brad back offered again.
“Thanks,” Brad told her. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll let you know if we need anything, Tiffany,” Ryan said in dismissal.
With his two-hundred-dollar haircut and intense brown eyes, Ryan was the kind of man sophisticated women seemed to prefer. Yet he’d fit right in when he’d shown up in Thunder Canyon.
The attorney studied Brad for a long moment, much the way a scientist would study a bug or how a cowboy would consider a recalcitrant bull. “You must have gotten up at the crack of dawn to catch that flight out of Missoula this morning.”
“The dawn hadn’t even thought of cracking when I left Rust Creek Falls.” The truth of it was Brad hadn’t gotten much sleep at all.
Margot had acted strange, distant almost, the entire evening. She’d complained of a headache and had slept in her own bedroom, saying she wanted to get a good night’s sleep and hopefully keep the headache from getting worse.
She was sleeping when he left so he didn’t wake her, which meant he hadn’t had a chance to give her a goodbye kiss. That stung. But this was something he wanted to take care of right away and he didn’t want his actions getting around town.
Hopefully, California was far enough away to avoid the Rust Creek Falls gossip mill.
For several minutes, he updated Ryan on local events. Then, when Brad felt as if enough small talk had been exchanged, he decided to tell the attorney the reason he’d come sixteen hundred miles that morning.
Brad started with the wedding between Braden Traub and Jennifer MacCallum that had taken place on the Fourth of July. He moved onto the poker game and the events at the Ace in the Hole later that night.
“Let me get this straight.” Ryan leaned forward, his dark eyes riveted to Brad’s face. “You raised Boyd Sullivan five hundred. Instead of folding, the old guy puts up his ranch.”
“That’s correct.”
“That’s crazy.” Ryan leaned back, a look of disbelief on his face. “You said someone had spiked the punch at the wedding.”
“There was also a lot of beer flowing at the poker table.”
Ryan’s eyes sharpened. “Were you drunk?”
“Buzzed,” Brad admitted. “But like I told the detective, not blasted drunk.”
Ryan steepled his fingers. “That could explain such a reckless action.”
“Everyone at the table tried to convince him to fold, but you know old Boyd.”
“Actually—” Ryan picked up a Mont Blanc pen, a thoughtful look on his face “—I don’t believe I ever met the man.”
“I guess I just assumed you had.” Brad gave a humorless laugh. “You know how it is. When you live in Rust Creek Falls, everyone knows everyone.”
“I like that about the area,” Ryan said, surprising Brad by his admission. “The way everyone greets you on the street. The way they look out for their own, like the guys at the poker table tried to look out for this old man.”
“Tried be
ing the operative word.” Brad shook his head and blew out a breath. “Boyd Sullivan is pushing eighty, but you’d never know it. He’s strong as a mule and just as stubborn. Yeah, he’d been drinking that night. We all had. But he could hold his liquor.”
Ryan sat back in his chair. “What happened when you encouraged him to fold?”
“The sanitized version is he told us to mind our own.”
The attorney laughed. “I’m starting to get a good picture of this guy.”
“Like I said, he’s a character.” He was also Margot’s dad and Boyd’s recent behavior had caused his daughter much pain. That, Brad found hard to forgive.
“He lost the hand,” Ryan interjected when Brad didn’t continue.
“He lost and left the game.” Brad explained the rest of the details concerning that night to the attorney. “The sheriff did some digging and learned that Boyd had bought a one-way train ticket from Missoula to New York City.”
“Hold on a minute.” Ryan lifted a hand. “I thought the man was broke.”
Brad lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “There’s speculation someone bought the ticket for him.”
Ryan inclined his head, his brown eyes sharp and assessing. “Did you purchase it?”
“No,” Brad snapped.
“I had to ask,” Ryan responded in a calm, conversational tone. “Let me see if I have this correct, Boyd willingly signed the deed to the ranch over to you and left town. Now all anyone knows is he’s likely somewhere on the East Coast. If he’s still alive.”
“We know he’s alive.” Brad told the attorney about the postcard he’d received and the letter Boyd had sent to Margot.
“It’s an acquisition route but it sounds to me as if the ranch is yours. He signed the deed and made it clear in two separate pieces of correspondence that he wants you to have it.” Ryan stared curiously at Brad. “Have you had the deed recorded? It’s not required to make the change of ownership effective, but it’s a good idea.”
“I haven’t done that,” Brad admitted. “There’s a bit more to me being here, but it all ties in to what I’ve told you. I believe you have a license to practice law in Montana.”
“I do.” Interest flickered in Ryan’s dark gaze. “Are you in need of an attorney, Brad?”
He nodded. “I want to put the ranch in Boyd’s daughter’s name. And I want it done immediately.”
Chapter Twenty
By the time Margot got up the next morning, Brad had left. She crossed the hall and paused at the entrance to his bedroom before stepping inside. For a full minute she stood staring at the bed where they’d so often made love.
As she moved to plump the pillows and straighten the quilt, she let her hands linger as if she could capture some of his warmth.
Their fun together was over. Brad didn’t need to spell it out any more clearly. He’d left her. Just as her mother had, and then her dad.
Well, Margot had her pride. Instead of trying to hold on to someone who didn’t want her, she’d take the bull by the horns and move on. She’d only insisted on staying because she was convinced the ranch was her dad’s.
Now both the postcard and the letter had made it clear that her father wanted Brad to have the ranch. That branded her as the interloper, not him.
There was nothing for her here. The only question left to answer was—where to go?
The doctor wouldn’t clear her to race until next spring. Margot had a horse, a blue heeler and ten puppies who still needed their mama, and then homes. Hard decisions were needed and she had to be the one to make them.
She mulled the situation over for several minutes then decided to see if Jilly’s parents would be interested in boarding Storm until next spring when Margot returned to pick her up. Unlimited access to the horse in exchange for housing the Arabian seemed a fair deal. She only hoped they would agree.
Vivian couldn’t be dealt with quite so easily. The thought of leaving town without Vivi had a knot forming in the pit of Margot’s stomach. But she couldn’t uproot the new mother and her puppies. While Margot had friends who might be willing to let her live with them temporarily, she didn’t know anyone who would take her and a whole passel of blue heelers.
She wondered if Brad would want...
Immediately Margot shook her head, dismissing the thought. Even though Vivi and Brad had recently formed a tentative truce, he only tolerated “Viper” because of her.
Margot slowly descended the stairs, her mind sorting through various possibilities and rejecting them all. Then she thought of Todd. Brad’s father may not be a fan of fluffy white puffballs but he seemed to have an affinity for heelers. The last time he was over he’d even mentioned he might know of some ranchers who’d be interested in the pups once they were fully weaned.
By the time she reached the first floor her phone was out of her back pocket and she was dialing the Crawford General Store. After she ended the call, Margot collapsed on the bottom step.
Though Todd had seemed caught off guard by the request, he’d graciously agreed to board Vivi and her pups. He assured her he’d take good care of the dogs. Even knowing that, believing that, didn’t ease the pain.
Lurching to her feet, Margot took a moment to steady herself before entering the parlor. When Vivi looked up and wagged her tail, Margot’s eyes filled with tears. She hurriedly blinked them back.
She held out a hand, fully expecting Vivi to come to her. Instead, the heeler jumped out of the box and trotted past her outstretched hand, leaving Margot with the pups.
Margot let her hand drop and crossed to the box. Memories surged of the night Vivian had given birth and how Brad had built the box and placed it near the fire so Vivi and the little “vipers” would be safe and warm.
It had been a sweet thing to do. Margot knew that was the moment she’d begun to look at Brad Crawford in a different light.
Shoving the memories aside, Margot reached into the box and lifted out a fat black-and-gray bundle of fur. As she cuddled the warm little body close, her rioting emotions began to calm. She rocked the sleeping puppy in the ornate chair that had once belonged to her grandmother.
She told herself she should be happy. Everything was falling into place. Except, she still needed to call Jilly’s parents. As close as she and Vivian were, she and Storm had been an inseparable team for the past five years.
Of course, if things worked out, both of these separations would be short-lived. Not like between her and Brad. Their separation would be forever.
Cutting the bond that had formed between her and the handsome cowboy hurt the most. Foolishly, she’d let herself believe, let herself hope, for more. She should have known a happily-ever-after between them would be impossible.
He wasn’t ready to settle down, at least not with her. That’s why the sooner she moved on with her life, the better.
She was scrolling down to Roger’s number when the phone rang. Margot was ashamed to admit she hoped to see Brad’s name on the readout.
Leila.
“Hey, girl,” Leila said when she answered. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” Margot cleared her throat and forced a cheery tone. “How are you?”
There was a pause on the other end.
“What’s wrong?” Leila demanded.
“Nothing. I’m just busy,” Margot said quickly. “I’m, ah, getting ready to move.”
“Where are you going? I thought you were all settled in.”
Margot took a few minutes to explain everything that had happened since Leila had left town, including the letter she’d recently received.
“I barely pass the city limits and everything goes to hell in a handbasket,” Leila said with a half laugh before turning serious. “Did Brad ask you to leave the ranch?”
“No.” Margot fought the heavy sigh
that rose inside her. “But the letter made it clear this is his place now, Leila, not mine.”
Margot sensed the reporter in her friend wanted to dig for details. She was grateful Leila refrained.
“What’s the plan?” Leila asked after a long moment. “I know you have one.”
Margot told her about Todd agreeing to take Vivian and the puppies and her plans for Storm.
“Are you certain this is what you want?”
The quiet question hit a nerve. “What I want? Do you think I want to give up Vivian and Storm—even for a few months? I don’t have a choice. This isn’t my home anymore. I have to find a place to live, then in the spring I’ll return to the circuit.”
“Is going back there what you want?”
“What’s with all the questions? Of course it’s what I want. I’ve spent the last five years of my life pursuing that dream.”
“We can want something at one time—” Leila’s tone turned philosophical “—and decide later that’s not what we want, after all.”
“It’s still my dream,” Margot insisted, wondering why she was trying to convince Leila of something she herself no longer believed.
“What about Brad?”
“What about him?”
“I thought you and he might...”
“We had fun while it lasted,” Margot told her friend. “That’s over now.”
* * *
Twenty-four hours passed. Margot still hadn’t gotten around to calling Jilly’s parents. Todd came over and fed the cattle. A couple of men sent by Jesse and Nate put up a snow fence. Before Todd left, she took him in to see Vivian and the puppies. Her heart lurched when the heeler wagged her tail and let Todd pet her.
The entire time Todd was at the ranch he never once mentioned Brad. When he asked how long she planned to stay at the house, Margot told him that since Brad would be back on Friday to take over the ranch chores, she’d stay through Thursday night.
Todd appeared to approve of the plan. Of course, if she was going to make the timetable work, Margot needed to get on the stick and make arrangements for Storm. She knew Brad would probably agree to keep her, but that would mean seeing him when she came back to pick the horse up in the spring.
