by Connie Mann
“You know how. Get your mother to sell me the ranch. It’s what your father wanted.”
Cole thumbed his hat back on his head. “You know, you keep saying that, but all I have is your word on it.” The minute the words left his mouth, Cole wanted to call them back. Apparently, his encounter with Evie had rattled him more than he realized.
Thin and wiry, his uncle stiffened and puffed up like a bantam rooster. “And since when is my word not good enough, boy?”
Cole held both palms up. “Easy now. All I’m saying is that I wasn’t here when Hank was . . . sick, so I don’t exactly know what he said or didn’t say.”
“Well, whose fault is it you done run off and left him to run the place alone?”
Cole refused to get into a debate about ancient history. If his father hadn’t told the whole story while he was alive, Cole surely wasn’t explaining it after the man’s death. He owed him that much, at least. “Look, Uncle Duane. I don’t want to fight with you or anyone else. But the bottom line is that Sutton Ranch isn’t for sale.”
“And when the bank comes to take it away, and it gets sold for nothing to that big Blackwell outfit? Then what?”
Before he realized he’d moved, he stood toe to toe with his uncle. “First off, the bank is not taking the ranch. And even if it did, that would be my problem, not yours.”
“This ranch should stay in the family.”
Cole smiled grimly. On that they agreed. He’d move heaven and earth to make sure his ma had a place to live. “It will. Don’t you worry about that. Now, why don’t you head on up to the house to see Ma? I have work to do.” He tipped his hat and turned to go back to the barn before he decked the man. He loved his family. But his mother’s brother he could do without. Especially since his drinking had gotten worse.
“You keep on with that stubborn attitude, boy, and you may not have a choice.”
Cole stopped, turned back, and studied the mulish tilt of his uncle’s chin. “You care to explain yourself, Uncle Duane?”
Cole stared at the other man, but he wouldn’t answer. Fists clenched, Duane turned away and marched up to the house, while the threat lingered like a bad smell.
Cole slapped his Stetson against his thigh, then settled it back on his head. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone to save the ranch, for crying out loud?
As he went back to the barn, Cole replayed their conversation. First Evie and now this. He wasn’t sure what either one of them was up to, but he intended to find out.
And make them quit. He did not have the time—or patience—to deal with anyone’s hidden agenda.
Eve walked back through Celia’s house and onto the front porch, trying to sort through what she’d just heard. She pulled the door shut behind her and debated locking it, but decided it was best to leave things exactly as she’d found them.
Once on the main road, her GPS had no trouble directing her to the fancy electronic gate just off the main highway that guarded the entrance to the biggest commercial farm in the county. As she pulled up, a disembodied female voice asked, “Blackwell Farms. How can we help you?”
Might as well take the bull by the horns and start at the top. “I’m Eve Jackson, here to see Mr. Blackwell.”
“Is he expecting you?”
Eve thought about that for a moment. Not too far fetched, given the Safe Harbor grapevine. She put all her confidence behind the words. “Yes, he is.” The worst they could say was no, right?
“Just a moment.”
While she waited, Eve scanned the hay fields on either side of the road. The less feed a rancher had to buy, the more profitable his cattle operation. Did Blackwell run cattle, too? Or did he merely sell the hay? And what kind of fertilizer was he using on his fields? Nitrogen was cheap, and too much could cause contamination. But if that happened, Blackwell surely wouldn’t leave any evidence lying out in the open. Still, she’d like to take a look, just to be sure.
The intercom came back to life. “You are not on Mr. Blackwell’s calendar, Miss Jackson.”
Eve put a smile into her voice. “Whoops. I thought I was. Could I just have a quick minute with him anyway?”
“Mr. Blackwell is not available. Have a good day.”
Eve tapped the steering wheel. It had been worth a try. As she turned her car around, she glanced in the rearview mirror. A large ATV drove up on the other side of the gate and stopped, two cowboys in the front seat, watching her. Both wore cowboy hats and cradled shotguns in their laps.
She got the message. She waved out the window as she turned back toward town.
But as she drove, she scanned the fence line, searching for another way onto the property.
Chapter 3
Cole spent the hour before supper in his father’s office on the main floor of the ranch house, working and reworking the numbers, trying to figure out a way to repay the loan to Richard Blackwell that was due in a couple of weeks. Considering the bad blood between the two families, why had Hank asked Blackwell, of all people, for money?
Pride and necessity, near as he could tell. From what his mother grudgingly divulged, they hadn’t had insurance because the premiums had been too high, so his father had paid for the heart surgeries himself. By borrowing money and using the ranch as collateral. Cole ran his hands through his hair. Even if Hank had lived, how on earth had he planned to pay the money back? Now Cole had several deformed calves he couldn’t sell and Eve Jackson making noise about contamination. He wanted to believe the two weren’t connected, but the more he uncovered about his father’s lax environmental practices, the more his worry grew. Cole rubbed the space between his eyes and drew a deep breath as he glanced at the clock. He would not take his frustration out on Ma at the dinner table. This was hard enough on her.
He stood and headed for the kitchen, where Ma had just pulled a roast out of the oven. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, alarmed all over again at how much weight she’d lost recently. “Smells good, Ma, thanks.”
At that moment, the two farmhands, Hector Ramirez and Buzz Casey, walked through the back door and stopped to wash up at the sink in the mudroom. Hector had never talked about his life in Mexico before he showed up at Sutton Ranch thirty years ago looking for work, and no one had ever pressed. Buzz had been his father’s best friend since well before that. Ten years ago, after Buzz’s wife died and he retired from the air force, Ma said he moved into the bunk house with Hector one day and took over as ranch foreman. According to Ma, Buzz had expected to take over after Hank’s death, so to say he wasn’t happy that Cole was back would be a serious understatement.
“Don’t y’all dawdle and let my food get cold,” his mother said.
Both men answered, “Yes, ma’am.”
Cole smiled at the ritual that had been repeated every night for as long as he could remember. Something about the familiarity of it all soothed him tonight.
After the food had been blessed and passed, Buzz said, “Lots of people coming and going today. Who was the cute little number in the flashy car?”
Cole felt a flush spread over his cheeks as he remembered the feel of Eve in his arms. “Eve Jackson. She got lost trying to get to the Daughtry place.” He grinned. “And then she got stuck in the mud here.”
“We were just talking about Althea’s granddaughter at Bible study today.” At Cole’s raised eyebrows, Ma narrowed her eyes and aimed her fork in his direction. “Not gossiping. Praying. And talking about ways to help. Celia has not had an easy road, and now she’s raising that baby on her own. From what I heard, the doctors still aren’t sure how to help that precious little girl of hers. Dr. Stern is a good man, but baby Glory is still in critical condition.”
“This Eve Jackson a friend of Celia’s?” Buzz asked.
Cole shrugged. “I don’t know. Eve grew up in Safe Harbor, and now she works for some kind of environmental group in Washington, DC.” He’d looked her up online after she left.
“Wait a minute. Is that the same girl who drove everyone crazy trying
to get the high school to put filtered water out on the football field so you boys wouldn’t have to drink from the hose?” His eyes narrowed. “And the dang fool who let the calves out and cost you your throwing arm?”
“The very same.”
Hector hadn’t said anything until now. “People gave her a hard time because of the color of her skin, too.”
“No,” Buzz retorted. “They gave her a hard time because she’s an environmental wacko.”
Something inside Cole shifted. Eve’s ideas might be a little extreme—OK, a lot extreme—but he hated knowing she had been harassed and he hadn’t seen it, hadn’t known about it. He should have defended her, even during his most idiotic stage. Though he wondered if he would have had the guts to take action back then. He shook his head. So many things he would have done differently.
Hector kept his eyes on his plate as he shoveled food into his mouth. “I think people tried to use that as a way to get her to be quiet.” His head came up. “But she never backed down.”
No, she sure hadn’t. It had been impressive, the way she fought for what she thought was right. Completely misguided, fighting the town over a garden hose and then trying to free all their calves, but he had to admire her principles.
“Is Eve here because she’s trying to help Celia?” his mother asked, and all eyes turned to him.
“That was the impression I got. And since Celia’s cottage is close to here, I imagine we haven’t seen the last of Miss Jackson.”
He chose his next words carefully. He’d done some research this afternoon. “According to the Gazette, Dr. Stern thinks it’s blue baby syndrome. Little Glory might have a heart defect. But if not, it’s probably from contaminated water. From what I read, the number-one culprit is nitrates.”
Silence descended, and Cole knew they were all thinking the same thing. Nitrates were common as flies in the fertilizer everyone used because it was cheap and worked great. If contamination was suspected, there would be tests and investigations of every outfit in the area, because high nitrate levels were always a concern with agriculture and livestock. Now he knew they could cause blue baby, too, if the levels were too high.
This was just the kind of scrutiny Sutton Ranch didn’t need right now, not right before he tried to sell his calves.
Buzz pushed back his chair and stood. “We’ll just keep her off the property.”
Cole stood and met him stare for stare. “No, we won’t. If there’s an investigation, we’ll cooperate fully. We have nothing to hide.”
Buzz opened his mouth, closed it, then muttered, “Your father wasn’t a coward.” Ma gasped, and he left without another word.
Hector stood, took his plate to the sink. “Thank you for supper, Miss Alice,” he said, just as he had since the night he arrived. He headed out, but Cole noticed him moving slower, like he hurt.
Cole helped his mother clear the table, his mind on the implications of an investigation. The timing couldn’t be worse. But what if he’d somehow caused that baby’s illness? He had to know.
“I’m worried about Duane,” Ma said quietly.
Cole brought his mind back to the present.
“He smelled like a distillery when he came by today. It concerns me.”
He gave her a quick hug. “Losing your wife isn’t easy.”
She snorted. “He didn’t lose her. She walked out on the ornery old coot, and I can’t say as I blame her.” She thumped the fridge door closed. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about him. I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but try to be nice, OK? For me.”
Cole kissed her cheek before heading for the back door. “I’ll do my best.” Hand on the doorknob, he paused, looked back over his shoulder. “He wants to buy the ranch.”
She sighed. “I thought that might be it. You told him no?”
“I did. And not for the first time.”
She nodded and turned back to the sink.
Cole headed outside, but as he stood by the paddock, he remembered Duane’s veiled threat and wondered if his best would amount to more than spitting into the wind.
Eve drove down the paved road for several minutes, then turned down a dirt track, following the fence line that surrounded Blackwell Farms. She drove along the grassy edge to avoid the worst of the ruts, leaning over the steering wheel, searching for a way onto the property.
Her efforts were rewarded when she drove under a canopy of huge live oak trees. Their low-hanging branches would provide a way up and over the fence. But even more important, they backed up to a whole row of what looked like small storage sheds. The perfect place to keep fertilizer. She winced as she realized she’d have to do this barefoot, but there was no help for it.
Her heart pounded as she climbed out of the car and looked around on both sides of the fence, but she didn’t see anyone. Slowly she walked along the fence until she found a nice sturdy branch and climbed up on it, muffling a gasp when her bare foot connected with something sharp. She inched her way up and grasped the next branch. A quick shimmy and shuffle and she got a good grip. She hoisted herself over the branch, then scooted over the fence before she carefully picked her way to the ground on the other side.
She turned and came face-to-face with one of the men who’d been on the ATV. She didn’t see the other, but figured he was nearby.
Eve eyed the shotgun he casually cradled in the crook of his arm and widened her smile. “Guess I took a wrong turn.”
She’d hoped for at least a little half smile, but the guy’s expression didn’t change.
“You’re trespassing, Ms. Jackson. Mr. Blackwell says that unless you skedaddle on back over the fence, quick-like, I’m to call Chief Monroe to come pick you up.”
“Right.” She waved a hand behind her. “I’ll just go on back to my car now.”
He pushed the hat farther back on his head. “I’ll wait.”
“Of course you will,” Eve muttered as she turned toward the fence. She stopped. From this side, the branch wasn’t low enough for her to reach. She jumped up, but missed. She tried again. Still too short to reach.
She looked over her shoulder at the man. “Um, a little help?”
He heaved out a long-suffering breath, and instead of offering a hand up as she expected, he grabbed her waist and lifted her straight up. He held her as though she weighed nothing until she got herself onto the branch. Then he stepped back and retrieved his shotgun.
Eve scrambled back over the fence and hurried to her car, wincing with every step. She’d snagged her slacks and figured the soles of her feet were probably bloody and filthy, but she made it.
The man watched her as she drove away, but she wasn’t giving up. She’d find the source of the contamination, whatever it took.
After a quick stop at the hospital to check on Mama, Eve planned to head straight to the marina so she could grab her camera and find some glass jars to take water samples. But as she drove through downtown, she noticed all the on-street parking spaces were full, and people milled around the open doors of the community church one block off Main. Right, Pop had told her the high school band concert was tonight.
Eve drove another block west before she found a spot at the curb, parked, and walked over to the church. The spring concert had been held in the hundred-year-old building for generations, since the first band director declared the acoustics better than those in the school gymnasium. Mama Rosa and Pop had dragged Eve, Sasha, and their other foster sister, Cat, every year, though Cat was the only one who had actually enjoyed it.
The band never made it further than the district competition, but what they lacked in skill they always made up in enthusiasm. The town turned out in force on concert night. What better place to get a feel for what was happening in town and see who was talking about Glory Daughtry?
As she threaded her way inside, Eve tried to ignore the frowns aimed her way. She scanned the crowd for her family and finally spotted Jesse and the rest of the family about halfway up the aisle. She
maneuvered her way forward until she could slide into the pew beside Blaze. Pop, Sasha, and Jesse shuffled to the left to make room just as the conductor tapped his baton, signaling the band to finish tuning up.
“I thought you were with Mama,” the teen muttered by way of greeting.
“Hi, Blaze. Good to see you, too. I’m well—thanks for asking.”
Blaze narrowed her eyes. “Pop came because Mama Rosa said you were going to be with her.”
“And I was, until she said she was tired and kicked me out.”
Pop leaned over from down the row, on the other side of Sasha and Jesse. “Mama was all right when you left?”
Eve smiled, though she knew it was a little thin around the edges. “I read Psalms to her. She got sleepy and told me to leave.”
Pop nodded and sat back just as someone nudged her leg.
“Got room for two more?”
Eve recognized Cole’s voice a split second before the clean scent of his aftershave hit her. She looked up and swallowed hard. Freshly shaved and hair still wet from his shower, he looked better than any guy she suspected of contamination should ever look. When she simply stared, one corner of his mouth kicked up.
Beside her, Blaze poked her thigh as she hissed, “Scoot over and stop drooling.”
Eve jerked to attention. “Oh. Ah. Of course. Sure. Plenty of room.” She slid closer to Blaze, leaving a respectable gap in the pew between herself and Cole.
Cole raised a brow as he stepped into the pew and scooched over until nothing but a whisper separated his thigh from hers. He introduced his mother, Alice, whom Eve had met years ago at the hospital after the calf incident, but Eve had no idea what she said in response. All she saw was Cole, and those teasing gray eyes that always looked straight into her soul—even when he was poking fun at her. To make matters worse, that hard, muscled body wrapped in soft denim and a Western shirt made her want to climb onto his lap and snuggle close.
For one insane instant, she had an urge to yank on his shirt and see if it really did have snaps instead of buttons. She tucked her hands firmly under her legs and breathed an audible sigh of relief when the band launched full tilt into their first number.
