The Bachelor Cowboy

by Jessica Clare

  Layla swallowed hard.

  Jack pulled the truck up and parked it. “This is what I wanted to show you.”

  Was this some kind of wacky intervention, then? Was he wanting to show it to her to point out how terrible a person her mother was? Layla knew. Oh, she knew all too well. But what did he expect her to do about it? “O-okay?”

  A brief look of disappointment flickered across Jack’s face. He reached for her hand. “I’m showing it to you because it’s important to me.”

  His hand felt warm in her clammy one. “This is?”

  He nodded proudly, and the look as he scanned the land spreading out in front of them was fierce with joy. “I’m buying all this. I’m going to start my own ranch, and I wanted you to be the first to know. Well, other than the real estate agent.” He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Come on out. I want you to get a good look at everything.”

  Oh.

  Oh god.

  This was much worse than an intervention.

  Her mom was going to sucker Jack for every dollar he had.

  This was an utter nightmare.

  Wooden, Layla got out of the truck and took a few wobbling steps forward. Immediately, her heels—her stupid heels—stuck into the muddy ground.

  “It’s just a little wet,” Jack reassured her. “The property’s close to a creek, but it’s not going to be a problem. I went over all the documentation.”

  Oh god. The documentation her mother had cooked that she’d wanted Layla to sign off on.

  “In a way, the stream’s good,” Jack said, moving to her side of the truck. “Fresh running water for the animals at all times. Come on, I want to show you where I’m going to put the house . . .” He took her hand and paused when she didn’t follow along with him. “You all right, baby?”

  “No,” she whispered, feeling like the biggest fraud ever.

  “You look kind of green.” Jack moved back to her and slid his arms around her waist. “Do you need to sit down?”

  His concern made her want to cry. Why was he so amazing and here she was lying to him? Layla couldn’t let him buy this land. It was a money pit, an absolute disaster, and her mother was the worst for even trying to pull this. She had to get out of here, and if it meant faking sickness, she’d absolutely do it. “I think I need to go home, Jack.”

  Disappointment flashed across his face. “Of course.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry to ruin your afternoon,” she babbled, and she felt like the worst person in the world. Jack had wanted to show off the land because he was proud of it, proud of the decision he was making to strike out on his own . . . and he had no idea it was such a disaster.

  And she didn’t know if she could tell him.

  Layla had to fix this somehow without Jack knowing just how involved she was.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Jack was silent on the trip back to the ranch. She knew he was confused by her actions, by the way she’d been fine—and frisky!—all damn afternoon, only to freak out the moment they went out to the land. Then she’d clammed up on him and made him turn the truck around. She wished half a dozen times on the drive back that she’d taken her own car, because the awkward silence between them was killing her.

  She let out a breath of relief the moment he parked next to her car.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Jack asked her again, a frown on his face.

  “I just . . . need to go home for a bit. Take some medicine—”

  “I can take care of you,” he offered, reaching out to brush a lock of hair off her forehead. “I’ve got some stomach stuff and if you need something, I can go to the pharmacy. I wouldn’t mind having you stay.”

  “No,” she blurted. “I need to go.”

  “Layla.” He took her hand in his. Held it tight. “Are you freaking out about something between . . . you and me? About what happened between us today?”

  Oh god, of course he’d think that. “No, Jack, I swear I’m not. I just . . .”

  “Need to go. I get it.” But she could tell by his expression that he didn’t. He sighed and moved away, and she felt like the world’s biggest jerk as she moved to her car, tossing her purse into the passenger seat.

  “Will you keep Oscar?” she asked, pulling out her keys.

  He gave her an odd look. “Of course.”

  Layla nodded and then impulsively moved back over to him and kissed him. “We’re good,” she promised him with a fierce note in her voice. “I swear to you that we’re good.”

  He gave her a curious look. “You want to talk about it? Whatever’s bothering you?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Ah.” His smile faded but he gave her a nod. “Okay. Call me, I guess, when you feel better.”

  Layla knew in that moment that he suspected she wasn’t sick. She wondered if she could puke on command. Right now she kind of felt like vomiting . . . but nothing came up. Figured. She managed a smile for him and got into her car, buckled in, slowly pulled out of the driveway, and headed back down to the main road.

  Instead of turning toward Painted Barrel, she headed onto the highway.

  Her mother was getting a visit.

  * * *

  * * *

  Layla parked in front of her mother’s apartment complex and sucked in a deep breath. She hated confrontation—especially with Janet, who always managed to turn it around on her—but she needed answers. No matter how ugly things got, Layla had to fix this. Jack couldn’t buy that land. He’d be dead in the water before he ever got his house built. The first big rain of the spring, combined with the melting snows, and he’d be sitting right on a lake. He’d lose his savings and everything, and she absolutely was not going to let her mother do that to him. So she got out of the car, steeled herself, and then marched up the stairs to Janet Schmidt’s apartment.

  She knocked.

  Waited.

  Tapped her foot.

  Finally, there was a bit of rustling inside and the door opened. Janet had a glass of wine in her hand and was wearing a pretty day dress that looked as if it cost a fortune. She had on high heels, her hair was pulled up artfully in a clip, and classical music played in the background. Even when “relaxing” at home, Janet liked to live as if she were entertaining, which meant she had to look her best.

  “Hi, Mom,” Layla said loudly. “What the fuck?”

  “Layla-belle, what are you doing here? I have a date tonight.” Janet gestured that Layla should come inside. “You can stay, but not for too long. I do have to point out it’s terribly selfish of you to come by without warning, though, honey—”

  “Spare me, Mom.” Layla stormed inside and immediately went to her mother’s desk. “Where are your papers?”

  “What papers? Do you want a glass of wine? I just opened up the loveliest Chianti—”

  “The papers for the sale of the land.” Layla picked through a stack of folders. “I want to look at them.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

  “Bullshit you don’t.” She pulled open a file drawer and started flipping through. Her mother was terrible at filing anything, and bills were just stacked right and left, crammed into every possible space. “Don’t play games, Mom. If you want me out of here before the latest boyfriend shows up, you’ll let me look at your paperwork and I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Did I tell you my new boyfriend is rich? He’s also younger than me by five years.” Janet took a sip of wine. “We’re going to the Bahamas together soon. He told me he’d take care of everything.”

  “Super.” Layla flipped past a stack of overdue bills, unsurprised to see a bunch of notices in pink proclaiming past due. It wasn’t that Janet didn’t have the money to pay for things—it just wasn’t a priority for her. She spent her money on her primary concern—and that was Janet. “I’m serious, Mom, wh
ere is it?”

  “Where is what?” Janet asked sweetly.

  Layla turned to look at her mother, wanting to scream. “You know what! Where is the damn paperwork for the sale of the land in Painted Barrel? The floodplain?”

  Janet rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, acting innocent. “It’s not a floodplain.”

  Okay, Layla was definitely going to start screaming if this continued. She turned and faced Janet entirely, scowling. “Then show me the details where you got it changed. Show me the surveys. Show me the FEMA documentation that changes the floodplain designation.”

  Janet rolled her eyes. “You’re being so dramatic, Layla-belle. Did you really come over here all this way just to harass me? Don’t you have better things to do on the weekend?” She shook her head. “If only you’d go out with some of the nice men I take so much time trying to set you up with.”

  “Mom.” Layla got to her feet. “I’m about to knock that wineglass out of your hand if you don’t quit being obtuse and just show me the paperwork. I know you’re selling the land, because my boyfriend is the buyer. And I know he wouldn’t buy a bunch of ranch land in a floodplain, so stop playing games and just show me the contracts, okay?”

  Her eyes widened. “You and that rancher are dating? Isn’t he the one you paid for at the auction?” Janet bit her lip. “Oh, Layla, honey, he probably thinks you have a lot of money after you spent so much on him. I’m worried that he’s using you.”

  Layla glared at Janet and moved to the kitchen counter, where her mom tended to keep the day’s mail and important documents before tossing them out of sight into whatever drawer was nearest. When that didn’t provide the paperwork, Layla began pulling out drawers in the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a blue folder emblazoned with a real estate logo on it. Layla pulled it out, glared at Janet, and began to flip through the paperwork. Her heart pounded as she saw Jack’s signature all over it. The amount he was paying for the land was staggering—three times what her mother had paid. The bank loan was for an amount that made her faint.

  And he’d put down a deposit of thirty grand of his own money.

  Thirty grand. The sheer amount of money was horrifying. She knew he didn’t make a lot as a cowboy, so he must have saved up for years and years to come up with that kind of down payment. He’d cleaned out every penny he owned to buy the land.

  The land that was a floodplain that most certainly flooded all the time, regularly.

  Layla felt sick. This had to stop. And when she pulled out an elevation map, nothing showed a floodplain at all. “I don’t understand. You and I both know this is wrong. Jack wouldn’t sign off if he knew the land wasn’t usable.”

  “Well, maybe he should have checked.”

  Layla glared at her mother. “You’re the one providing the documents and stating that they’re correct. If anyone’s in the wrong, you are. He shouldn’t have to triple-check everything you send over to make sure you’re not lying. You’re not supposed to be lying!”

  “You’re yelling, Layla-belle.” Janet winced. “I don’t like it when you get so upset over nothing.”

  “Nothing? We both know this is wrong, and now you’re going to saddle my boyfriend with your problem!”

  “Well, he can always back out. He has thirty days from signing.”

  “And lose his deposit! I saw how much money that was!”

  Janet smiled and took another sip of her wine.

  God. Layla knew her mother was a piece of work, but she’d never thought of her as explicitly evil. But this? What she was doing right now? This was straight-up awful. Either Jack got saddled with terrible land that he couldn’t use, or he lost his deposit. “Once he finds out what you did, he’ll sue you, Mom.”

  “He’ll have to sue my LLC,” Janet said sweetly.

  Which meant she’d just declare bankruptcy and skate away from her debt, like she always did. Somehow, Janet always managed to come out ahead despite leaving a mountain of unpaid debt behind her. It was unreal. It made Layla want to scream.

  She shook her head and picked up another document. “I don’t know how you got this to go through.”

  “I have a friend that helped me. We got the elevation corrected and it was all updated through FEMA.” Janet’s tone was defensive and overly sweet, as it always was when she was lying. “Everything is on paper, as it should be.”

  She had the elevation “corrected”? That seemed . . . wrong. “You found someone to fudge your documents? What kind of crooked idiot went along with your plans?”

  Janet giggled. “You did, Layla-belle.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Janet took another sip of her wine. “I knew you were busy with that cowboy and I knew you’d want to help your mother if you weren’t being so very stubborn about things, so I went to your office and borrowed your notary stamp.”

  “You what?”

  “Oh, come on,” Janet said, irritated. “This isn’t like the time I borrowed your social security number and got all those credit cards. This is just a teensy-weensy document that corrects a few things that makes my land worth money again.” She smiled ever so charmingly at Layla. “If your boyfriend doesn’t agree, he’s more than capable of reselling the land for himself.”

  Layla gaped. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her stomach churning, she flicked through the paperwork, looking for a notary seal. Sure enough, there was hers on some letterhead, stating that she assessed that what Janet Schmidt claimed was accurate. Right next to her seal was her signature.

  Her own mother had forged her signature.

  Layla sat back in her chair, stunned. Was Jack going to think she was playing him if this went through? Dear god, this just got worse and worse. “How could you do that, Mom?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’ve forged my stamp—”

  “I didn’t! It was your stamp!”

  “You took it! The whole point of a notary is so the document is witnessed before someone that’s trusted with the law. And you just crapped all over that so you can shove your problems onto someone else!”

  Big, fat tears pooled in Janet’s eyes. “I really don’t know why you’re screaming—”

  “You do know!” Layla yelled. “You absolutely know!”

  “It’s a harmless crime—”

  “You’re hoodwinking my boyfriend! You’re going to take his money and sell him garbage, Mom. How can you think I’m okay with this?”

  Janet sniffed, looking woebegone. “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Cancel the contract. Give him his money back. Fix these records. Take my name off them.” Layla shoved the paperwork across the counter at her mother. “Keep the land. Or sell it for a loss. I don’t care.”

  “Layla,” her mother whispered. “I need the money.”

  “Not from Jack, you don’t.”

  More tears flowed from Janet’s eyes. “So you’d rather your mother end up on the street than your boyfriend get some land that he wanted? What’s the harm?” She shook her head. “Why are you being so unfair? He can use the land . . . most of the time. Just tell him to get flood insurance and it’ll all work out.” Her gaze brightened. “He could get the insurance company to give him a fat payout. This is a win-win, Layla—”

  “No,” Layla said flatly. “He’s not going to defraud an insurance company and neither are you. We’re not doing this. You are going to give him his deposit back.”

  “So I can be the one that suffers in this? No, Layla. It’s not my fault he didn’t do his due diligence.” Janet shook her head and went to pour herself another glass of wine. “Your cowboy may be pretty, but that doesn’t mean I have to pay the price if he’s not going to question things.”

  Layla gritted her teeth. Why would Jack question legal documentation submitted on the land? Of course he’d assume it was legit. Any
rational human being would . . . but Janet wasn’t rational, and therein was the problem. “If you don’t tell him about the floodplain and give him his money back, I will.”

  Janet just shook her head. “And how do you think that’s going to look? You knew all along that I was going to sell it, but it’s a problem now because you know him? That makes you look like a terrible person, Layla.” She tsked. “So selfish. You’re only upset because it’s your boyfriend that’s involved. You wouldn’t care if I sold it to anyone else.”

  That wasn’t true. She’d just never thought that her mom would go through with it.

  Or . . . had she? And had she just been too wrapped up with Jack to think about it very much? Guilt washed through her. Was this her fault?

  “I know,” Janet said brightly. “Why don’t you go and kiss your boyfriend and tell him that everything is fine. And just emphasize the flood insurance. It’ll all turn out for the best, Layla-belle, wait and see.” Her mother paused and then added, “You’re good at that part.”

  Layla just shook her head. “Why are you doing this to me, Mom?”

  “You think everything is about you, you selfish girl.” Janet’s mouth flattened. “Really. I don’t know where you get that from.”

  Layla just laughed hysterically. It was either that, or cry.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Jack worried he’d somehow messed things up with Layla. He’d wanted to take his time with her, to romance her properly, but then she’d showed up at his place in that cute little get-up and “slow” had sped up a few notches. Even after he’d made her come, he thought things were okay with them. It was only after they got in the car that she acted strange and her face lost all its color. He’d driven her back to her car and she’d retreated as quickly as she could.

  Logic told Jack that it really wasn’t him . . . except what else could it be? He didn’t know. Sometimes the most obvious answer was the right one, which was depressing.