by Verna Clay
Sean laughed. "Let me rephrase what I just said, 'I hope I find a wife as sweet, interesting, and bossy as Molly'." He then asked about Ann Martinez, Molly's granddaughter.
"She and Jackson are as happy as ever. Jackson purchased the ranch next to him to expand his operation and now he owns more property than Sage. Their daughter, Angel, who will soon be eighteen, is growing into a beautiful young woman with the same feistiness as her great-grandmother. And Ann volunteers her time at the high school helping in computer science classes. Were you aware that she's a genius when it comes to computers?"
"No. I wasn't."
"Goodness, several years back she helped the FBI crack a huge case using her skill. That's why Alligator, the guy who married Dixie, the original owner of Dixie's Cuppa Joe, came to Paxtonville. He came to enlist her help."
"Really? The guy who invented ChocoDrops?"
"Yes. He used to be an FBI agent."
"Wow!"
Sean talked with Sarah several more minutes and then Sage bounded up the steps to the patio's French doors. He swung them wide. "Howdy, Sean! It's been a few years since you were here. Glad to see you, son. I ran into your dad at the feed store a couple of weeks back and we did some catching up."
Sean stood and walked to shake Sage's hand. "Hello, sir. Like I was telling Sarah, I've got three months reprieve and I wanted to spend it with my family in Paxtonville. My adoptive parents are out of the country until fall so I won't have to divide my time up."
Sage motioned for him to sit again and Sarah said, "I'll be right back with your tea, honey. Sean, do you need a refill on your water or would you like something else."
"No, ma'am, I'm good."
Sage sat on the couch across from Sean and stretched his long legs out. He was the epitome of a cowboy and Sean inwardly grinned. During a visit with his family when he was seventeen, Sean had tried to dress and act like a cowboy, but soon discovered it just wasn't his style. He was a city boy that loved living in the country, but not dressing country. It had been Preston who'd pointed out how ridiculous he looked, and that had only added to their animosity. Not that Preston was wrong in his assessment.
Sarah returned with her husband's drink and for the next hour everyone caught up on the years since they'd last seen each other. Sean asked about Julie Hackstetter, Sage's daughter and Sarah's step-daughter, and her family. He found out that Sage had sectioned off a large portion of his ranch and given it to her and Jacob. Sage also proudly talked about Jacob's side business of hosting two-week roping schools, having become a champion roper after being taught by Newt and Sage when he was a teenager and attending Lazy M's dude ranch. Sage said Julie also had a side business teaching trick riding. And their children, Maudie, in her teens, and Missy, still in grade school, were following in their parents' footsteps, both being proficient in roping and riding.
Sarah said, "Sage, did you see Sean's car. It's fantastic!"
"No. I came straight from the barn the back way. Let me guess…it's a sports car?"
Sean didn't know why, but he felt embarrassed. "It is. And that's part of my problem."
Sage and Sarah both gave him questioning looks.
"The car is like a neon sign when I want to remain under the radar. So I got this idea that I need a truck more like Newt's."
Both Sage and Sarah laughed so hard they got tears in their eyes. Sage said, "There ain't a truck in the world like Newt's. Even God isn't that old."
Sean chuckled. "Well, I need one similar to it. My sports car is a chick-magnet and that's the last thing I want. I wasn't thinking when I left L.A. I just wanted to blow the town fast. Anyway, when I walked out of the vet's this morning it was surrounded by girls. That's when I thought about Newt and his truck. I was going to ask if either of you could steer me in the right direction to find an old beater like his."
Sage pursed his lips and cocked his head. "So, you want to stay under the radar and drive an old trasher. You know, staying at your parents' house is going to garner attention no matter what you're driving."
"I know. I was thinking of holing up at a motel outside of town and wearing a disguise." He laughed. "I'm going to dress like a cowboy with a Stetson, boots, and big belt buckle, and if that doesn't work, I have a hippie outfit."
Sarah and Sage laughed again.
Sage said, "Maybe I've got a solution that will take you off the chick-radar and into an old pick-up that you won't have to buy."
That got Sean's attention and Sarah's, too. They both leaned forward in their chairs.
Sarah hid a knowing grin as she walked Sean to the front door to see him out and also make him promise to visit again soon. Sage was still sitting on the couch when she returned to the patio and sat beside him. She studied her husband's face. "Don't think I didn't see through your motive in sending that boy to Dirk's. You're playing matchmaker."
Sage reached and smoothed a hand down Sarah's brunette hair now laced with gray. "Are you chastising me, honey?"
"Not at all. I think what you did was brilliant. Sean has had his eye on Tessa from day one. He lights up whenever she walks into the room. Cecelia knows it too. In fact, she told me just the other day that if Tessa hadn't run off and eloped, she was hoping the two of them would see how great they are together." She sighed. "But, things went south when Tessa took off with that bully."
Sage said, "Perhaps its fate that the boy showed up now. Tessa's divorced and getting her life in order and doing well from what I've observed."
"Perhaps. Do you think you should call Dirk and let him know you're sending Sean to apply for that job he's got advertised?"
"No. If this is fate, it'll work itself out; just like it did with you and me."
Sarah snuggled her head against Sage's chest and he kissed the top of her head. How she loved her handsome, romantic, kind, and hardworking husband.
"Sarah?"
"Yes?"
"Since we've got the house to ourselves, why don't we mosey on over to the bedroom and spend some quality time together."
She grinned against his chest. "Do you think we'll ever get too old for that part of our lives?"
"No, and hell, no!"
Sean followed a graveled road past the Tanner's house and outbuildings until he reached Newt and Molly's place. They were both outside, with Molly sitting in a chair under a tree and Newt standing before an easel.
As he parked, they both headed toward his car. When Molly recognized him, she said, "Howdy, young Sean. It's been a few years."
"Yes, ma'am, and you're more beautiful than the last time I saw you."
Molly glanced at Newt, lifted an eyebrow, and said, "Maybe you should take flirting lessons from this boy."
Newt said, "Aw, come on Molly. I'm always tellin' ya how purdy ya are."
She cocked her head. "Yeah, that's true. But listen up anyway."
Newt walked over to Sean's Porsche and ran a hand down the fender. "She's a beaut, son."
"Yeah, and that's the problem." Sean pointed to Newt's old truck. "I need to find a truck like yours. My car attracts too much attention. I plan on staying in the area for awhile and the last thing I want is attention."
Newt scratched his scraggly gray beard. "Oldies like mine are snatched up real fast."
Molly guffawed, "I can't imagine why. If I had a choice, I'd be zipping around in Sean's black beauty."
Newt corrected, "Molly, you do have a choice. You drive a Taurus."
"Yeah, well, I'm thinking about trading it in for one of those." She inclined her head toward the Porsche.
Newt gave Sean an exasperated look.
Sean pointed to the easel and canvas. "Mind if I take a look?"
"Not at all, son. Seems I got this talent I never knew I had. I can paint pretty good." He glared at Molly, "Not like writing."
She shot back, "We're gonna finish your memoirs whether you like it or not, old man."
Sean walked around the easel to get a better look, and damn, Newt was good. Really good. He was painting a p
ortrait of Molly and it looked just like her.
Molly came up beside Sean. "I keep telling Newt I don't want him to paint me with wrinkles and look at that. You can hardly see my features for all the wrinkles."
Newt said, "Dang, Molly, I got wrinkles, you got wrinkles, and some day this young fella's gonna have 'em, too. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal is I don't want a painting of me that's going to become famous showing all my wrinkles. You could at least make me look like I'm seventy and not pushing a hundred."
Newt didn't back down. "Hell, Molly, between us, we got almost two centuries. We're old, honey, and I ain't changin' your painting 'cause you're the most beautiful woman I know just the way you are."
Molly's face suddenly went all soft and she replied, "Why didn't you say it like that in the first place?"
Sean, who had been watching the interaction between them, reaffirmed in his heart that he wanted a relationship with a woman that was just as open and honest as theirs.
Molly seemed to forget the tussle over the painting and turned to Sean. "You seen Tessa, yet?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"You swap any spit?"
Sean choked and Newt said, "Molly! That's not a question you ask a strappin' young man."
"I just did, didn't I?"
She studied Sean's face, waiting for an answer.
"Ah, no ma'am to your question."
"Well, I wouldn't wait too long to make a move. You shoulda' done so before she ran off with that scumbag. Both you and Preston have always had a hankerin' for her and he might beat you to the punch if you lollygag this time."
Sean didn't know what to say but it didn't matter because Molly kept talking. "'Course, sometimes you gotta bite into a pit and break a tooth before you discover how to eat the sweet stuff. Been chewin' on pits lately, son?"
He kept a straight face. "Yeah. One too many."
"Good. Now you've learned some lessons so you can go for what you really want."
Newt just stood off to the side shaking his head. But then a grin spread across his ancient face and he started laughing. Molly joined his laughter and soon Sean did too. Sean decided a good laugh and a good woman were definitely needed in his life.
Chapter 7: Hired Hand
Sean pulled up to the gate of Dirk Branigan's ranch. When he'd first come to Paxtonville at the age of fifteen, Dirk had been getting his ranch going. From the looks of the horses scattered across the pastures, he had done extremely well.
Over the intercom a male voice said, "Howdy. Who be ya and what's yer business?"
"My name is Sean Barfield. Sage Tanner was telling me about a ranch hand job you got advertised."
"Okay. Gate's about to open."
The gate swung wide and Sean drove the short distance to the Branigan cabin. A short, beefy cowboy waited in front of it and didn't look particularly impressed by Sean's sports car.
After Sean stepped from the Porsche, the cowboy scratched his head and said, "You sure you got the right place, son. This here's Paxtonville, Colorado, not Hollywood, California."
Sean nodded and politely responded. "Yes, sir. This is just the place I want to be. Mr. Branigan knows me and I'd like to talk to him about the position he's hiring for."
The cowboy stuck out his hand. "My name is Charles Trotter, but everyone calls me Flatfoot. And as far as the hirin' around here goes, I'm the foreman, and I do it all myself. So, I guess you better start by–"
A deep voice interrupted Flatfoot and Sean turned to see Dirk walking toward them from the barn. "Hello, Sean. Tessa mentioned you were back in town."
Sean grinned and stuck out his hand for a shake. "Hello, sir. It's good to see you."
Flatfoot said, "Dirk, this young fella said he's applyin' for the hand position."
Dirk looked surprised. "You're the last person I'd think would be looking for work. Come on, son, let's take a walk and you can explain it to me."
Flatfoot resettled his hat on his head. "I guess you got this covered, boss. I'm gonna ride out to the south pasture and check on the men. Hopefully, that section of fence is just about restored."
"Thanks, Flatfoot. I'll catch up with you later."
Dirk motioned Sean toward the barn. "Come on and see some of the horses I'm working with."
Tessa had once told Sean that her father was a renowned horse whisperer and then explained that he had a way of communicating with animals that astounded most people.
Inside the barn the Branigan's youngest daughter ran up to her father and Sean, and said breathlessly, "Sean, will you sign an autograph for me?"
Her father scowled. "Candi is that any way to greet our guest. You need to welcome Sean to our home."
She blushed. "Welcome Sean. Maybe you can stay for supper?"
Dirk said, "Now that's more like it." He glanced at Sean. "Please say you can stay for supper. We eat around six when Tessa gets home."
That caught Sean's attention. So Tessa was living at home. "I'd like that, sir."
"Call me Dirk, son." He patted Candi's head. "Run tell your mother that Sean is here and that he's staying for supper."
"Okay, Daddy." She shuffled her feet and didn't immediately move.
Sean said, "I'll sign an autograph for you at suppertime."
Her face lit as she turned and skipped toward the house.
Dirk shook his head. "I know how it feels to be bombarded by autograph seekers. If she starts asking for autographs for her friends, just let me know and I'll have a talk with her."
"It's not a problem, sir…er…Dirk."
Dirk led the way through the barn and pointed out various horses, from colts to mares, and explained what their issues were and how he was working with them. He said, "We got the stallions in the other barn. I don't like to take on more than three or four of them at a time. Usually, they've either been mistreated or they're just young and high spirited."
Dirk paused beside one of the stalls and a big brown and cream German shepherd ran up to him and whined. He knelt and rubbed the dog's back. "Hey, Sadie, how ya doin'? You missin' Tessa?"
"Is that Tessa's dog?"
"Yes, she brought him back from Denver; also a cat named Muffin." He rose again and his face looked as hard as granite. "I suppose you heard about her marriage to Jared."
"Yes."
"I swear I could have killed that boy when she came back all brokenhearted. And after she told me how he punched her, I was ready to torture him to death."
Sean's eyes widened. "I didn't know she was abused."
Dirk snorted. "I don't think she's even told us half of the nightmare. What she ever saw in him, I don't know. I'm just glad she got him out of her system. 'Course she's still recovering emotionally and begs off anything social, but Monica says she'll eventually come around and start dating again. I know Preston Tanner has asked her out a few times. One of these days she'll accept."
Sean felt a wave of nausea knowing Tessa had been physically and emotionally hurt, and a wave of jealousy at the mention of Preston.
Dirk was still talking. "She's living in the apartment above the garage. It took some convincing to even get her to move in there, but Monica finally got her to see the sense of it. She said Tessa admitted to being ashamed about running off with the guy who'd taunted her throughout their school years. She said she felt like she'd shamed and embarrassed her family. Hell, can you imagine that? My baby thinking she'd shamed her family and wanting to stay away to spare us embarrassment." He shook his head. "Anyway, we're just glad she's home and we're giving her space to recover."
Sean puffed a breath. Dirk's confidences were a lot to take in, and now he also wanted to torture the asshole that'd mistreated the sweetest girl he had ever known.
Dirk said, "So, do you want to tell me why you're wanting to work for me shoveling shit? The job's an entry level one and gets most of the dirty work."
For the next five minutes Sean explained the circumstances of his arrival in Paxtonville and how he wanted to lay low an
d just lead a normal life. He finished up by saying, "I'm not afraid of hard work and I can shovel all the dung you want."
Dirk laughed so loud he startled the horse whose stall they were standing in front of. "Whoa, girl," he crooned. He slapped Sean on the back. "Let me show you to your room and if you still want the job, it's yours."
Sean followed Dirk to the rear of the barn where he opened a door into a small, maybe eight-by-ten room with a double bed, ancient chest with four drawers, a makeshift closet constructed of plywood, and a door leading into a tiny bathroom with a shower, sink, toilet and barely enough room to turn around.
Dirk said, "We got plans to remodel, but since this is only a seasonal job, it's not on the list of priorities. It pays fairly decent though."
Sean said without hesitation, "I'll take it."
Chapter 8: Panic
Tessa was running a half hour late for supper so she called her stepmother to let her know. Monica said, "No problem, honey. And hey, we have a surprise guest for dinner."
"Yeah? Does that mean you're not telling me who it is?"
"Yep. You'll see when you get here."
At six-thirty Tessa punched her fob to open the garage door, and gasped! What was Sean's Porsche doing inside the garage? She laid her head on her steering wheel. Was he the surprise supper guest? Please God, don't let it be so.
She pulled her old Honda Civic beside his. Her father had wanted to buy her another car, but she'd adamantly refused. He and Monica had already done so much by allowing her to live in the garage apartment rent free until she was on her feet. And she was almost there. She didn't need a monkey wrench by the name of Sean Barfield thrown into her life plan. He made her feel things she didn't want to feel.
She rushed upstairs to her apartment, took a quick shower, and changed out of the smock she wore for work. She did her best to tame her wet, curly hair, but it was impossible, so she just tied it back with a ribbon. As for makeup, she started to reach for her blusher and paused. Nope. The worse she looked the better. Painting herself with makeup was saying, in essence, that she wanted to look nice for Sean because she liked him in a way that was more than friendship. Her reasoning was illogical but she didn't argue with herself.
