Maverick (Star Valley Book 3)

by Dahlia West

  The Barlows were now renting the Archer’s large sheep-grazing lands, moving the herd back and forth so as not to tax any one piece of land too hard with grazing. The Barlow herd was off the Archer property this month, though, to give the grass time to recover.

  Austin and Gabe helped Mac get the bags of dog food out of the truck and Gabe stacked their stainless steel bowls near the fire they maintained for cooking.

  “They know what to do!” the old man called as he swung back up into his cab. “Just stand back and let ’em.”

  “Will do!” called Austin. “Thanks again!”

  As predicted, the dogs returned in a little more than an hour, from the eastern side of the property this time, apparently having made a full inspection of the perimeter. When they got back to camp, they nosed into everyone’s tents and belongings, keeping a respectful distance from the horses in the pen.

  It had been a long time since the Barlows had had a dog of their own, not since Austin was a teenager, but if he had to guess, he’d say that the Archer pack was now familiar with the scent of everyone who was supposed to be in camp and God help anyone dumb enough to come back tonight after it got dark. It’d be nice for them, too, to get more rest and not have to keep one ear out for bears, wolves, coyotes, or cougars tonight.

  Austin bedded down with the pistol within easy reach, though. Just in case.

  Three days passed excruciatingly slowly, to Austin’s way of thinking, but without incident which was good. No new tracks appeared and Mac Archer’s dogs seemed perfectly happy to be extra sets of eyes and ears as Austin and Sawyer set up the irrigation lines across the largest hay field. They got a lot of work done, but by the morning of day four, Austin was already up before the sun rose and had saddled up Colter.

  Sawyer snorted when he finally woke to make some coffee on the fire.

  Austin glared at him. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Go back to mooning over Cassidy and forget what I’m doing over here.”

  Sawyer’s grin faded and though Austin didn’t have a mirror, he was dead certain that the dark, fiery expression on his brother’s face at the mention of his woman’s name, the woman who was alone in his bed right now, matched his own. “Let’s go,” Sawyer growled, throwing out half his metal cup of joe and stalking toward the pen.

  “Exactly.”

  *

  He unpacked in a hurry and found her on the front porch, bent over the table. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even notice him climbing the porch steps to greet her. “Hey, darlin’,” he called out.

  She yelped and turned, then gave a sigh of relief when she saw him.

  “Whoa! Woman swinging a hammer! I definitely would’ve come back sooner if I’d known you were going to hold a grudge.”

  She laughed and it was like music to his ears. Not many things were better on this earth than to see Leah happy. “You’re ridiculous,” she told him, rising from the chair.

  They embraced and Austin held on tight as she clutched him. “Miss me?” he asked, stroking her hair.

  She nodded. “From the minute you left.”

  He held on a bit longer. On the one hand, he felt bad that he’d left her alone. But it was nice having someone to come home to. He looked past her, to the table, where she had her work spread out. “What are you working on?” he asked, genuinely interested. He let go of her with one arm and picked up a piece of braided copper to inspect it. “This looks like my reata.”

  She nodded. “It is. This place…it’s so inspiring! It’s amazing, Austin. Everything from the colors of the mountaintops to the tools you use, the fields and the sky. It all seems…different here. Still Wyoming, but a part I never knew existed before.” She blushed then and took the piece of metal out of his hand. “Anyway, now I’m being ridiculous. I was just messing around.”

  She lifted the lid of the box and started to stuff everything inside it, to hide it away. Austin reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t do that.

  Leah blinked up at him.

  “This is important to you,” he declared. She frowned and he held up a hand. “Don’t say it’s not. The Folly was important to me, even back when everyone thought I was crazy and it was a huge waste of money and time.” He grinned at her. “You know, I let them keep calling it that, even now, just so they’re eating crow every single time they say it.” He leaned down, putting his other hand on her back. “If this makes you happy, Leah, it’s not ridiculous and besides, I like a girl who knows what to do with her hands. Why do you make jewelry but don’t wear it?”

  She shrugged and tried to look away but Austin put a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him, forced her to be seen. “I…I don’t know. I’m just not…it’s not me.”

  “You made it. It is you. It’s more a part of you than anything you could buy,” he argued. He plucked the braided copper off the table and turned it over in his hands. “Finish this one,” he told her. “And I want to see it on you when you’re done. But tonight, let’s go out.”

  “Out? Out where?”

  “There’s a bar in town called The Silver Spur. I haven’t been there in a long, long time but we should go, check it out.”

  Leah’s nose wrinkled. “Well, I can’t drink and—”

  “Who said anything about drinking? You can dance, can’t you?”

  “Um, no. Not real—”.

  “Then you’ll learn. Go upstairs and put on a dress,” he said with a wink.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‡

  Leah raked a comb through her hair, shimmied into one of Candace’s old dresses, and dug out the strappy heels she’d shoved into the bottom of her suitcase. She felt awkward putting it all together but she didn’t know what to expect from a bar with a dance floor and didn’t want to embarrass Austin when they walked in the door.

  She did her best not to trip on the stairs as she headed back down. The shoes had a slight heel she wasn’t quite used to wearing. In the living room, he was already waiting for her, in fresh new jeans, the shiny black leather boots she’d seem him wear the first night she’d met him, and a crisp, black button down shirt with pearl buttons. She felt plain beside him, a complete and total mismatch. If Austin felt the same, his smile didn’t show it.

  He reached out to pluck at the green jasper necklace that matched the dress.

  “I made this one, too,” she told him, feeling self-conscious. Sometimes the way he looked at her was downright unsettling.

  “Beautiful,” he replied and she wasn’t quite sure if he meant the necklace or something else.

  The office door opened and Walker came out, he paused, looking from Austin to Leah. “You…you look nice, Leah,” he told her before turning to head up the staircase.

  “Um, thanks.” It was the most he’d said to her directly in her entire time here.

  “High praise,” said Austin, leading her toward the door. “By now you’ve figured out if you’re not a spreadsheet or a cow my brother doesn’t quite know what to do with you.”

  “I know what to do,” Walker called out.

  “Oh, yeah? Want to come with us?”

  But Walker merely grunted and continued thudding his way upstairs.

  Austin smirked. “All work and no play makes Walker a dull boy. Let’s go.”

  Leah decline the opportunity to drive because it was dark and she doubted her ability to deal with any antelopes that tried to cross the road. It was a fairly quick trip into town and Austin pulled into a gravel lot filled with trucks, cars, one or two motorcycles, and low hanging sign that read The Silver Spur, lit by a spotlight.

  Even from the parking lot the music was loud. Pure thumping country bled through the walls. Austin held the door for her as she ducked inside. It was nice, she thought, as far as small-town bars went, mostly wooden, well-lit, with a jukebox and several pool tables. A few people waved at Austin and he lifted his hand in greeting.

  “Y
ou want to dance or a drink?” he asked her.

  “A drink?”

  He nodded. “The Cassidy special, I suppose. Club soda with lime.”

  “Um…” Leah looked around, surprised at the crowd. A few women were eyeing them, but Austin was only looking at her, waiting for her answer. “Dance, I guess.”

  He grinned. “Dance it is.” The song changed as he took her hand, a slow melody that made her sigh in relief because anything else seemed overwhelming and possibly dangerous in her silver shoes. The last thing she needed was to fall on her ass in front of all of Star Valley.

  Austin put his hands on her waist and she clasped her hands behind his neck. “So how’d you decide you wanted to make jewelry?” he asked her.

  She shrugged. “It started out as something to do, to keep my mind off the treatments. It was almost…” She paused searching for the right word. “Meditative,” she decided. “It was Candace who convinced me to try to sell them. And it made sense. I barely squeak by paying my bills.”

  Austin’s brow furrowed. “You really think that’s why she suggested it?”

  Leah blushed and shook her head. “No. Probably not.”

  “I think it’s a good idea and I think you should keep doing it.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Absolutely. But not for the money. You keep whatever you make. Put it in a bank account.”

  “Austin—”

  “It’s not up for discussion. You keep it and spend it any way you want.”

  “Then I’ll spend it on my bills.”

  His eyes narrowed sharply. “Out of the question. I want you keep buying dresses like this. And maybe a few more of these sparkly shoes. Or buy more beads, if that makes you happy.”

  Leah looked down at her clothes. “I don’t…I mean this isn’t me. Candace gave me—”

  “I don’t think you know who you are,” he said bluntly and she froze, holding her breath. “You keep saying you’re not this, you’re not that. You’re not wild in bed, but you are.”

  “Austin!” she hissed, glancing around nervously.

  “And you say you’re not pretty, but you are. I hear you say you don’t wear nice dresses or jewelry, but here you are, standing in front of me, and you’re the most beautiful girl in the whole damn place. So, I don’t think you have any idea who you are, Leah. But I think you should find out.”

  She backed away from him then, just one step, because no one had ever said the things Austin Barlow said to her and she had no idea what to do with that. His grip tightened and she shook her head. “Bathroom,” she said quickly. “I…I have to go to the bathroom.”

  He frowned but finally released her. “Well, while you’re in there, take another look in the mirror and maybe you’ll see what I see.”

  Leah didn’t know what else to do but nod like a bobblehead. She turned and took off toward the hallway marked restroom.

  She probably wouldn’t have looked in the mirror, probably would have dismissed his words altogether, except it was opposite the door as she burst through it and her own image was the first thing she saw when she escaped inside the small room.

  Her hair was growing out, a little longer each week. The dress fit better now that her body was changing. There was little need for a pushup bra these days and her hips were more noticeable. She still didn’t have much of a bump but every morning she checked, just to see it. But that was all she did. She never really looked at herself, never thought about what Austin saw when he looked.

  The longer she looked in the mirror, the more it seemed a stranger was looking back at her.

  Austin was right. She didn’t know herself at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ‡

  Austin waited for Leah to return and sipped his beer at the bar when a familiar face passed in front of him and threatened to ruin his night. Just a few feet away Palmer Conroy was waiting on his drink and had noticed Austin.

  “What the fuck are you looking at?” asked Palmer, no doubt certain that their very public surroundings were keeping him safe right about now. Which was true.

  If Leah weren’t here tonight, they’d be exchanging more than just dirty looks.

  “An asshole,” said Austin because he couldn’t resist.

  Palmer’s nostrils flared.

  “Are you even supposed to be here?”

  The guy shrugged. “I’m on probation. I can go where ever the fuck I want.” Which would not have been true of anyone else, Austin was almost certain. People on probation were probably supposed to steer clear of places like The Silver Spur. But Palmer was still a Conroy, despite his previous arrest for assault.

  “Then go somewhere else. Now.” The last thing Austin wanted was to have to look at Palmer Conroy all night instead of dancing with Leah.

  Palmer’s jaw twitched and he looked like he wanted to argue the point but as he looked around, he seemed to be missing some friends, or the small army it would take to keep Austin from kicking his ass. Owen and Roark, Palmer’s wingmen since high school were all the way across the bar and they hadn’t noticed the storm brewing in the corner.

  “Whatever,” the younger man snarled. “There are better places to be.”

  It was merely a stroke of luck, a small moment of serendipity, that Austin glanced down the moment Palmer was turning away. His eyes raked over a pair of Carhartt boots, scuffed and worn. “Hey,” he called out forcefully. “Wait a minute.”

  Palmer didn’t wait though. He kept striding toward the door. Austin stalked after him, not even close to finished. “Like abandoned mines?” he snarled loudly behind the man’s retreating form.

  Palmer turned suddenly and something changed in his eyes at that moment. He knew he’d been found out. He turned away, started to move faster, but Austin leapt forward, crashing into him and sending them both sprawling onto into the gravel.

  Behind them, someone screamed and Austin realized it was Leah. He rolled with Palmer, pushing the man to the ground, and dared to look away just long enough to make sure she was okay. Roark was moving past her, uninterested, it seemed. He was charging toward Austin. Even as he ran, the door behind him was opening again.

  Austin threw a punch that connected with Palmer’s stomach, enough to knock the wind out of him and hopefully keep him on the ground. “You’re lucky it’s just me out here and not Sawyer. He’d like to have a word, I’m sure.” Austin cocked back his arm and slammed his fist into Palmer’s jaw this time. “That’s from him, for Cassidy, you piece of shit.”

  Austin heard the crunch of gravel and spotted Roark coming at him, hell bent for election. He sprang up, lifted his boot, and caught the man in the knee. As Roark doubled over, Austin looked over his back to see Owen Greer lumbering through the bar’s front door.

  Leah screamed again, probably at the sheer size of the corn-fed giant.

  Owen turned to leer at her and Austin saw red.

  “Hey!” he bellowed, abandoning Palmer and Roark entirely. As he sprinted across the lot, Owen turned back toward him, surprise registering in the man’s large, pug face. Undoubtedly few people ran at the guy like a freight train now that their football days were over.

  Austin slammed into him, shoving him backward. Owen crashed into the side of the building, both of them narrowly missing Leah and Austin realized he should’ve been more careful. He grabbed a handful of Owen’s stained shirt as he stood over the man who’d had a few too many beers since high school and was now mostly belly. “You want to finish this shit?” Austin snarled in his face, fist formed and hovering just inches from Owen’s pudgy left cheek.

  Owen blinked at him and whether it was the look on Austin’s face or the fact that he smelled like a brewery or he was possibly too fat to get back on his feet easily, he shook his head. “Naw, man. Naw.”

  The front door of the bar burst open again and Austin whirled, ready to clip the next asshole who barged through it. But it was only Ian, the bar’s owner, wielding a Remington double-barrel “Palmer, I ca
lled the sheriff!” Ian declared. He froze on the boardwalk, though, gazing open mouthed at Owen, Roark, and Palmer all eating dirt. “I…” He threw Austin a worried look. “I thought you’d be in trouble.”

  “It’s fine. I took care of it,” said Austin flexing his hand which was beginning to swell.

  Ian looked around, wide-eyed, then back to him. “Shit, I called the sheriff, Austin.”

  Austin shrugged and clapped the man on the shoulder. “It’s all right, Ian. Let him come. Palmer’s been trespassing on Snake River.”

  Ian’s eyes narrowed at the men struggling to their feet in the parking lot. Trespassing in Wyoming was a Shoot First offense. Palmer would win no loyalties being found out. “Well, hell,” said Ian, spitting onto the gravel. “Oughta fill your ass full of rock salt right now.”

  Palmer and Roark scrambled away, headed toward Palmer’s truck. Owen sort of rolled a bit down the ramp, like the dough boy he was, until he could hoist himself (and his pants) up and follow them. Austin didn’t bother to chase them down to hold them till Sheriff Langley came. Star Valley wasn’t that big. There was nowhere to hide. They peeled out, kicking up rocks and dust on their way out of the parking lot.

  Austin turned to Leah whose eyes were nearly popping out of their sockets. “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  Leah voice was shaky as she stared at him. “Are you going to get arrested?”

  He shook his head, brushing off his jeans. “I doubt it.”

  “You doubt it?”

  “Probably not. Though it wouldn’t be the first time a Barlow had to cool off in a cell for scuffling with Palmer Conroy.”

  Leah grabbed his arm. “Wait. Conroy?”

  He nodded grimly. “That was Cassidy’s brother, not that he deserves to be related to her at all.”

  They all turned to see the sheriff’s car pulling into the lot with no lights and no sirens. There had been enough fights at The Silver Spur over the years that it no longer constituted an actual emergency. It rolled to a stop in front of the doors and the aging but still lean and muscled Sheriff Tucker Langley stepped out from behind the wheel. He zeroed in on Austin and Ian immediately and came around the front of the vehicle. “Break that, son,” he ordered. “Let’s have some law and order around here.”