Rocky Mountain Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

  When she didn’t say anything, he muttered a short expression under his breath. Stubborn. He’d forgotten how stubborn the woman could be when her back was against the wall.

  “Becca, don’t let your pride stand in the way.”

  “It’s not my pride. I’m used to that being shredded.” She met his gaze for a moment, then shifted her attention out the window. “I...don’t think you understand what’s going on here, Joe.”

  “Going on? What do you mean?”

  “Letting me stay on your ranch may put you right in the center of the bull’s-eye.” She gestured with her hands.

  “You aren’t making any sense.”

  “Why do you think I didn’t get that rental house?” Rebecca asked.

  “I have a few ideas.”

  “So do I. Nick’s grandfather. I’m sure of it. Judge Nicholas Brown used his considerable influence to sway the courts to bring what was simply a horrible car accident to a jury trial.”

  Joe opened his mouth and closed it again, his lips forming a thin line.

  “My bail was set so high that my mother was left scrambling to raise the money. I sat in jail for two weeks. Two weeks. Do you know what it’s like to be in jail, Joe?” She swallowed. “Do you have any idea?”

  Hands tightening on the steering wheel, Joe’s head jerked back as though he’d been hit.

  She took a steadying breath. “When Hollis Elliott heard about it, he put up the bond money.”

  “I don’t get it. You were found innocent.”

  “Judge Brown continues to punish me for Nick’s death.”

  “Why, if it was an accident?”

  “Not in his mind.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I think he’s aiming for custody of my daughter.”

  “He has no grounds for that.”

  “Rich people live in a different world than you and me. He’s a prominent citizen in the valley. He owns a lot of property in Four Forks. He’ll claim he can better provide for Casey.” She released a breath. “The truth is that he can.”

  “You’re her mother. You’re employed, and now you have a place to call home.”

  Rebecca shook her head as she gazed with longing at the little house. “You don’t know the judge,” she murmured. Her hands trembled as she met his gaze yet again. “If I stay here, he might very well retaliate against you. Against Gallagher Ranch, as well. You need to know that up front.”

  “I’m not concerned about Judge Brown.”

  “You also need to know that I’m not looking for someone to rescue me. The Lord and I have been working together for some time now.”

  He shook his head. “Not applying for the job. This offer is all about me. I’ve given a crew of city slickers carte blanche to roam my ranch. All I’m trying to do is protect my interests. I can’t do that without your help. Living closer makes sense.”

  “Just so we know where we stand.”

  He held out the keys to the little cottage with his left hand. “I know where I stand. Do you?”

  She nodded, then slowly, ever so slowly, reached up and took the keys, her fingers brushing his.

  Joe let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

  Chapter Four

  Rebecca turned when she heard the front door of Joe’s two-story log-cabin house open behind her.

  It was the man himself. Joe placed his black Stetson on his head and slid his arms into the sleeves of a fleece-lined denim jacket as he stepped outside.

  The dark angles of his face were illuminated by the porch light, creating a fierce image of the indomitable rancher. He yawned and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face before raising his head. Joe’s eyes rounded when he saw her. “What are you doing out here?”

  She ignored the harsh note of surprise in his voice. “I’m here to do a job.”

  “Why didn’t you knock on the door? How long have you been waiting?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “There was no need to bother you. I’ve only been here a few minutes.”

  “When are you moving into the cottage?”

  “Friday. After Casey’s school lets out for the summer break.”

  “What will your daughter do while you’re working?” Joe asked.

  “My mother will keep her during the week and I will have Casey here on the weekends. That will be less disruptive while the crew is filming or photographing you.”

  “You’re sure that’s going to work?”

  “Yes. This is far better than when I lived in Denver and she lived here with my mother all of the time.”

  He shook his head and frowned as though he waged a mental battle.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Perfect.” He strode to the end of the cobblestone walk and paused to take a deep breath. “Smell that?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “That heavy, dank odor in the air. The smell of cow manure and pond water are magnified when a low pressure system moves in.” He took another deep breath. “Oh, yeah, that’s some strong manure on the wind. It won’t be just dry lightning like last night, either. No, we have a real storm front on its way.”

  “I guess I’ve been gone too long. Nothing smells different to me.”

  “Give it a few more weeks. We’ll have your smeller sensitized in no time.”

  “Sensitize my smeller?” Rebecca smiled at the terminology.

  She pulled a pair of worn, soft leather gloves from her back pocket. When she looked up, he was watching her.

  “Those look like expensive gloves. Do you want a pair of old ranch gloves?”

  “I’m good.”

  “And you’re going to be warm enough in that vest?”

  Rebecca assessed her black, down-filled vest. “You bet. I’ve got several layers on beneath this.”

  “Hat?”

  “I’ve got a ball cap in my pocket,” she said.

  “You need a proper Western hat to protect you from the elements.”

  “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ll be fine.”

  “Your call,” Joe replied.

  He turned away and she followed, stretching her stride to keep up with his long legs as he headed past the circular gravel drive, across the yard toward the horse barn.

  The morning was silent. The only sound was the sizzle of a halogen light overhead as it came to life, casting a pink glow on the yard. Rebecca glanced up and stared at the endless black carpet of night sky, illuminated only by the scattering blanket of glittering stars.

  “Everything okay?” Joe called out.

  “Yes, yes. Sorry.” Rebecca doubled her pace in his direction. “I forgot what it was like.”

  He shot her a questioning glance. “New moon, you mean?”

  “That, too. But I’d forgotten how amazing a ranch is before dawn.”

  “I don’t even notice anymore. This is all I’ve ever known. It’s a real life, that’s for sure. You make me realize how much I take it for granted.”

  Memories of following her father around Elliott Ranch swirled through Rebecca’s mind. She missed her father with a deep ache, but she never thought she’d miss ranch life once she left.

  Then again, she’d been wrong about so many things. Like Nick. Why should she be surprised?

  Joe slid open the barn door and whistled. Two dogs raced to his side. “Meet Gil and Wishbone.”

  She laughed, offering a bow at the waist. “Gentlemen. Pleased to meet you.”

  From a corner of the barn a squawking radio sound cut through the silence. Startled, Rebecca jumped. She looked around. “Dispatch radio. I’d forgotten about them.”

  “Technology moves on, but some things don’t change in Paradise. It’s still the best backup communication in the agricultural commu
nity. Cell phones can’t be relied on, and phone lines are iffy with a heavy snow or rainfall.”

  He strode to a row of stalls.

  “Normally I take the truck around the ranch in the morning. That won’t be nearly as much fun for you, I imagine.”

  “I don’t want you to deter from your regular schedule.”

  “The horses could use a good workout, and you’d be doing me a favor. How about if you ride my sister-in-law’s horse? She’s spirited but not headstrong.”

  “Your sister-in-law?”

  He coughed, biting back a laugh. “The horse.”

  “Ah.” Rebecca offered a short nod while maintaining a poker face. “Whatever you think. You’re the boss.”

  “Need any help with your tack?”

  “I’m pretty sure I can handle tacking up my horse. I started doing it when I was five.”

  “How long since you’ve ridden?”

  “Twelve years,” she murmured.

  “You’ll be sore tomorrow.” Joe shook his head. “Tack room is over here.”

  She glanced around as they entered the small area. Saddles, felt pads and ropes hung neatly on the walls. “This is very nice.” She inhaled deeply, attempting to identify the smells. “Leather, castile soap and neatsfoot oil,” she said aloud.

  “You forgot sweat.”

  “Yes. That, as well.”

  Joe handed her a comb and brush and led her to a far stall, where he opened the door and gently nudged a chestnut mare out into the main area of the barn. “This is Princess.”

  The horse snorted at the interruption.

  “Oh, isn’t she a beauty?”

  “Sure is, and Beth will appreciate you exercising her mare.”

  Joe opened another stall and offered the horse inside his palm to sniff, before gently running his hand along the animal’s flank and then rubbing him between the ears. “This is Blackie.”

  “Hi, Blackie.”

  They worked quietly, cleaning their horses for minutes. When Rebecca looked up, Joe was leaning over the stall rail observing her.

  “Why are you smiling?” he asked.

  She looked up from where she was bent over Princess’s front hoof. “A simple thing like picking hooves. I haven’t done it in years, and yet it feels right.” Rebecca shook her head. “How did I leave this behind?”

  “You tell me.” The words were as hard as his expression.

  “I don’t know,” she murmured. Yet she did know. She had stopped listening to her heart and the whispered words from the Lord when she met Nick Simpson. His money and charm had turned her head. He’d offered her a life she thought she’d always wanted. Shame and regret filled Rebecca, and she concentrated on the task once again before finally dusting off her hands.

  “All done?” Joe asked minutes later.

  “I am, and if you don’t mind, since we have the opportunity, I’d like to see how you get that saddle in position with your prosthesis.”

  “No big deal, now that I’ve worked on my upper body strength. Though in truth, it was difficult when I first got home without any prosthesis. I sure wasn’t going to wait around for the incision to heal before I rode again.”

  Of course not. She held back the words. Joe Gallagher hadn’t changed that much. He was still stubborn and determined to do things his way.

  “Actually I wasn’t sure if I would ever ride without assistance, until Dan came up with the idea for a ramp. It has wheels that lock into place with the toes of my boots. It did the job until both my horse and I adjusted to my new situation. Now—” he raised a shoulder in gesture “—I don’t need it. It’s pretty much business as usual.”

  He grabbed a saddle pad and carefully placed it on the horse before adding the saddle, positioning them both and tightening the cinch and turning to Becca again.

  “Piece of cake,” he said.

  She followed suit and dropped Princess’s stirrups into position. “Now let’s see you get yourself in the saddle.”

  “It’s not pretty, but it works.”

  Joe firmly adjusted the Stetson on his head before he moved to stand on the left side of Blackie. He snugged up on the reins and grabbed the mane with his left hand. Once his left foot was in the stirrup, using his prosthesis, he reached for the saddle horn and then smoothly swung his leg over the horse. The movement was fluid and fast.

  “Seriously? You get on your horse slicker than someone with two hands. Best utilization of your prosthesis I’ve seen yet.”

  He offered a nod of acknowledgment at the compliment.

  “Now what?” Rebecca grabbed Princess’s reins and walked the mare outside, right behind him.

  Around them the sun had kissed the landscape in a rosy light, illuminating the ranch.

  “Look at that.” She knew her voice was laced with the awe of a girl who’d lived too long in the city. “‘Red sky at morning. Sailors take warning.’ Right?”

  “That’s right,” Joe said. “That’s not an old wives’ tale, either. Red sky at morning is indicative of low stratus clouds, and dust close to the Earth’s atmosphere. Another sign a storm is coming.”

  “I meant that it was beautiful.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, that, too.”

  Rebecca looked out at the land, her gaze moving straight west. “What’s the plan? I have two and a half hours before the crew arrives.”

  “That reminds me.” Joe pulled a key from his pocket. He inched his horse close to hers. “Spare key to the farm truck. So you can show them around.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I trust you’ll read them the ten commandments of ranch life while you’re at it?”

  “If you mean no repeats of yesterday? Then yes. Absolutely. Along with a couple of rounds of sage cowboy wisdom.”

  “Cowboy wisdom?” Joe asked.

  “Oh, you know. The usual. Look before you step. Don’t stand behind a coughing cow.”

  “That wasn’t quite what I meant, but they probably need to hear that, as well.”

  “Where will you be? I mean in case we need you.”

  “I’ve got at least a couple hours of spring pasture maintenance ahead of me before I move the cattle.”

  “Clearing out the rocks and sticks.” She made a face.

  “Exactly. Then I’m going into town yet again. I reviewed my contract for this publicity thing last night. They expect me to get a haircut. I don’t know how I missed that detail. I could have done it yesterday.” He removed his hat and ran a hand over shaggy black hair that skimmed his collar. “Ridiculous. Nothing wrong with my hair.”

  A smile escaped, as she recalled the time in high school when he’d trusted her to give him a trim. She’d been so tongue-tied and red-faced once she’d run her fingers through his thick hair that she’d given up on the task.

  Joe glanced at her and his eyes widened. Was he remembering, as well?

  “We better get going,” he said gruffly. “We’re going to ride the entire fence line before your people show up.” He picked up his reins and clicked his tongue. Blackie began to trot forward through the yard.

  When he released a long, low whistle for the dogs, Gil and Wishbone came running. “Now I’ll get to see if you can still ride,” he said, as he adjusted his Stetson. “I’ll meet you at the fence.”

  “Which fence?” Rebecca called after him as she mounted Princess and looked around. “Gallagher Ranch is surrounded by fences.”

  “We’ll start at the one that separates Gallagher Ranch from Elliott Ranch, to the southeast. I know you’re familiar with that border. It’s the easiest to check because Hollis Elliott has the money to keep up his fences.”

  “Slow down,” she called out. “You started before me.”

  He turned in the saddle and narrowed his eyes. “Are yo
u telling me you want the handicapped guy to give you a handicap? Doesn’t sound like an experienced cowgirl to me.”

  She blinked, outrage simmering just below the surface. “Careful what you say, Mr. Gallagher. You may have to eat those words.”

  “I’ve eaten worse. And this meal is guaranteed to be tasty.” Joe Gallagher’s deep laughter filled the morning air.

  Rebecca froze at the sound. His spontaneous laughter had lit up a dark room inside her. She hadn’t realized before this very moment that the lights had been off.

  * * *

  Joe pulled the collar up on his fleece-lined jacket and adjusted his Stetson as the chilled air hit his neck. He turned his head and took in the silhouette of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, then spared a quick glance over his shoulder.

  “I’m still here,” Becca called out.

  He held back a chuckle and waited for her to catch up. Who would have thought he’d be riding his ranch with Becca? Now wasn’t the time to analyze the confusion he felt around her. For the moment, he was simply going to appreciate that it was spring and he was alive.

  Yeah, being alive was good. There was a time in Afghanistan when he wondered if he’d ever be back in the saddle. After he’d dropped the tractor on his arm, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to be. Life as a one-armed rancher was more challenging than he cared to admit. He’d like to be able to say he’d moved on. But that wouldn’t happen until the prosthesis was paid for and he proved he could run his own ranch by himself again. And that meant Becca would be gone.

  He wasn’t ready to consider why that should give him pause. After all, leaving was probably the only thing he could count on for certain with Becca.

  A breeze brushed against his face, teasing him with the scent of spring wildflowers. This was his favorite time of year. The time when the valley woke from winter’s slumber and all sorts of surprises peeked out from the soil. The hundreds of spring and late-spring bulbs his mother had planted around the ranch, when she thought he wasn’t looking, were blooming. The scent of daffodil, freesia, iris and anemone rode the morning air.

  Joe led Blackie along the perimeter of the ranch, keeping to the fence line until they reached the pasture where the cattle currently grazed.