Comeback Cowboy

by Sara Richardson

  Lucas sliced the whirring chain saw through a small ten-foot tree that’d been riddled with pine beetles. Those damn bugs had killed a fourth of the trees in this forest, leaving behind empty, blackened shells. All it would take was one spark and those trees would become instant torches, shooting flames fifty feet into the air.

  The tree fell easily, collapsing in a heap of dead wood and dust. Lucas moved down the trunk, slicing it into sections like a tenderloin, then stacking the logs neatly in a pile.

  The town had been sending in other teams to collect the fallen wood and store it out on the edge of City Park, planning to offer it free to families who needed extra help heating their homes when winter came. The cutting crew had gotten up here about six o’clock that morning, and Lucas had silently joined them. Both Lance and Levi had had plans for the day, so he was on his own. So far, he’d managed to avoid any trouble, but he’d seen Marshal Dobbins farther up the mountain twenty minutes ago and he figured he wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever.

  In fact, it might be time to get the confrontation over with. Something told him Dobbins was fueling the town’s anger against him. He wouldn’t be shocked if Marshal was the one who’d vandalized his truck. But they weren’t in high school anymore, and it was high time he stopped acting like it.

  Lucas worked his way up the slope, sawing through the small dead trees he could take care of by himself, then stopped to glug some of the water he’d thrown in his backpack earlier.

  As he leaned against a tree stump, footsteps thrashed through the brush behind him. He turned.

  Marshal Dobbins was hiking down the slope, dragging his chain saw behind him.

  “Hey,” Lucas said, standing upright. “Tough work up here today, huh?” He figured it didn’t hurt to try and make conversation.

  Dobbins stopped, his glare darker than a black hole. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Same thing you are,” he said before casually taking another sip of water. What else would he be doing out here with a chain saw? Marshal had never been the sharpest tool in the shed.

  The man stomped down the hill until he stood across from him. The years seemed to have worn down his face. His brown eyes were bloodshot and miserable. “When are you gonna figure it out, Cortez? You’re not wanted here.”

  There were plenty of people who’d argue that. “I grew up here,” he reminded him. “My family’s here.” The woman he loved was here. And she seemed to like the idea of him sticking around when he’d mentioned it, albeit briefly. Which meant no one would drive him away. Especially not Marshal Dobbins. “Actually, I’m thinking about moving back.” So Marshal might as well get used to seeing him around.

  “And why would you want to do that when everyone in town thinks you belong in prison?” the man asked, his face a mask of hatred.

  “Already served my time.” Lucas didn’t look away. He’d even written the Dobbins family an apology, though he hadn’t committed the crime. “It’s time to put the past behind us. Don’t you think?” Moving on didn’t seem to be Marshal’s specialty. He was pretty sure the man had worn that same Metallica shirt in high school.

  “No one wants you around. Understand?” Dobbins stepped up to Lucas, raising his shoulders as though trying to intimidate him.

  It was all Lucas could do not to laugh.

  “No one wants a felon hanging around Topaz Falls.”

  “Guess it’s not your decision.” It wasn’t like Marshal was revered in town or anything. He owned the auto body shop and was the best mechanic in a fifty-mile radius, so people had to put up with him, but Lucas wouldn’t say he was well-liked. “I’ve already done my time. I’ve apologized to your family. What else do you want from me?”

  The man’s face was strangely expressionless. “I want you gone.” His grip tightened on the chain saw he held in his hand. Instead of making him look intimidating, the whole thing was starting to border on pathetic.

  “Like I said, not your decision.” He went to walk away. Obviously, Dobbins wasn’t going to let it go, which meant Lucas wasn’t going to waste any more time apologizing.

  “You know my dad’s dead?” Marshal barked after him. “He lost everything because of what you did.”

  He turned back to Marshal. The fallout from the fire hadn’t caused all of George Dobbins’s issues. He’d had a gambling problem to go along with his drinking problem ever since Lucas could remember. “I’m sorry about your dad.” He was. Genuinely. “But it’s not my fault he left. And I already paid for my crime.” For Levi’s crime. He’d given up the girl he loved, abandoned her for too many years. And he was done. He was done doing penance for something that had already been paid for. He was done worrying about how people saw him. He was done sacrificing time with Naomi. And he planned to prove it to her tonight.

  “I swear to God you’re gonna regret coming back, Cortez.”

  Lucas didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, he picked up his chain saw and walked away. Kept right on walking down the slope. In a clearing below, he caught sight of Dev stacking wood. Just the person he wanted to see.

  “Hey there,” Dev said as Lucas approached. He wiped his forehead with a bandana. It might have only been eight o’clock in the morning, but the temperature was already rising. “It’s good to see you out here, Cortez.”

  “Not everyone thinks so.” Lucas checked over his shoulder but Dobbins had disappeared into the trees. “What’s up with Marshal?”

  “He’s been in a bad mood for months now.” The deputy seemed to shrug it off. “Heard he and Jen are separated. Sounds pretty bad. Besides that, the man knows how to hold a grudge. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. People in town don’t exactly listen to Marshal Dobbins.”

  “That’s good to hear.” He dropped the chain saw so he could give Dev a hand with the pile of logs. “’Cause I’m thinking about sticking around a while.”

  “Yeah?” Dev looked surprised. “I thought you were some big rock star down at the McGowen place.”

  “Thinking about making a change. Lance needs some help getting his operation going.” He peered over to gauge Dev’s reaction. The man didn’t seem to think it was a bad idea at all.

  “It’d be great to have you back,” he said. “From what I hear, your family could use the help. It’s a competitive business. You seem to have a good handle on it.”

  “I like to think so.” He’d been studying it for seven years. Considering he’d had nothing else in his life, he bordered on being a workaholic. Something told him he’d find a better work and life balance in Topaz Falls. Though he’d definitely have other challenges. “So do you have any leads on who might’ve messed up my truck?” he asked, stacking another log.

  “Nothing conclusive.” Dev shot him a dry smile. “Though I have some suspicions.”

  Yeah. He wasn’t the only one. “Have you asked Dobbins?”

  “He’s the first person I talked to.” Dev dropped another log onto the stack with a grunt. “He was shocked. Knew nothing about it.” The man had always excelled in the art of sarcasm.

  “Of course not.” Didn’t appear that he had to tell Dev he was ninety-nine percent sure Marshal had slashed his tires. Other folks in town might not take too kindly to him, but in his estimation few were as vindictive as Dobbins.

  “I’ve got my eye on him,” Dev said. “Don’t worry. I’m on your side in this thing.”

  “That means a lot.” If he had Dev on his side, he had a better chance at winning over everyone else, too.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It’d been a while since he’d pulled a twelve-hour day, but he hadn’t had this much to work for, either. Lucas tipped up his hat and wiped away the sweat caked on his forehead. He’d watched the sun rise over those mountains this morning while he was training Reckoning II. After the brief fire mitigation stint, he’d gone right back to the corral, and now, at five o’clock in the evening, he was ready to call it a day. “You’re not exactly my first choice for a date tonight,” he info
rmed the bull, tightening the strap that held the remote dummy in place. But that was okay. He’d put in a few more hours of training, then he had plans that involved sweeping a certain single mom off her feet.

  Reckoning II stomped and swayed listlessly, already trying to throw the dummy, even though Lucas hadn’t opened up the chute yet.

  “Attaboy.” The desire to throw a rider had to be innate for a bull, and Reckoning here seemed to have it. After letting the agitation build for a few minutes, he threw open the chute and Reckoning tore into the corral snorting and tossing his head while he launched his hind end into the air. Lucas walked along the fence watching carefully, his finger over the button that would eject the dummy rider. But he couldn’t reward the bull and launch the thing until Reckoning put up a serious fight.

  “That’s it,” he called as Reckoning jerked his back end into a spin. The bull lunged and turned and twisted its body, all the while catching some serious air. Reckoning’s back arched, sending him flying even higher, and Lucas hit the trigger.

  Instantly, the thirty-pound dummy was released and went sprawling into the dirt.

  Snorting an insult the dummy’s direction, Reckoning bucked a few more times then settled.

  Lucas glanced at his watch. “Damn. You had that thing off in three seconds. Not bad. Not bad at—”

  A truck rolled up the gravel drive and parked next to the fence.

  Well, shit. The only person he knew who drove a F-350 XL diesel super cab was Bill McGowen. Sure enough, the man himself climbed out of the cab. Seemed he couldn’t manage a phone call, but he could easily ambush Lucas with a visit. That was definitely more McGowen’s style. Lucas should’ve anticipated it.

  Bracing himself, he left Reckoning behind and strode over to meet Bill. This would be a fun conversation…

  “That’s my bull,” the man said as he approached the fence. Much like Reckoning, McGowen was a behemoth: at least six-three and as wide as a linebacker, which was why he’d never been a bull rider himself. He was too bulky. Too genteel also, as showcased by his black jeans, white starched shirt, sterling silver bolo tie, and shiny cowboy boots.

  Lucas looked the man square in the face. McGowen was in his early sixties but he could’ve easily passed for fifty. His face was hard, his dull gray eyes iced over.

  Lucas ducked under the fence so they could do this face to face. “Actually this here is Lance’s bull,” he said evenly. “He paid a steep price, too.” Likely more than McGowen would’ve had to pay, but if today’s training was any indication, it would be worth it.

  McGowen glared past him at the bull, but he said nothing.

  Which meant it was up to Lucas to break the ice. “I’ve been trying to call,” he said, snagging Bill’s attention back to him.

  “So I’ve heard.” The man made no excuses for not calling back. He never made excuses for anything. He was always straightforward and direct. Which meant they’d best get on with this.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” If only that didn’t sound so trivial. “And I don’t take it for granted. But it’s time for me to step up and help my family. So you can consider this my official notice.”

  McGowen didn’t flinch. He simply gazed down at Lucas as though completely unfazed. “You remember what I asked you when I hired you?”

  God, that was so long ago. He didn’t remember much about that time. It was all a blur. Walking out of prison, trying to figure out where to go and what to do next. “No,” he admitted. He’d just been relieved to find a job.

  “I asked why you didn’t go on home. Be with your dad and brothers. You remember what you said?”

  The question brought it all back. “That I had nothing to go back to.”

  “And that no one would want you back,” Bill reminded him. “Has that changed? People in this town welcomed you back?”

  Lucas didn’t answer. He was still working on that.

  “Here’s the thing, Cortez,” McGowen said, all business. “I’m lookin’ to cut back my time some. The wife wants trips and weeks with the grandkids and shit like that.”

  He tamed a smile. That was about as much sentimentality as he’d ever heard come out of the man’s mouth.

  “So I need someone to take the reins,” Bill went on. “Someone good. Someone I trust. Someone who’s proven himself.” He paused as though he wanted to let that sink in.

  But Lucas was having a hard time believing it. He couldn’t be serious. “I just helped my brother swipe a bull right out from under you and you want me to take over your entire operation?”

  “You know I don’t need Reckoning.” His boss’s mouth fumbled between a grin and smirk. “If I’d needed him, you wouldn’t have helped Lance get him. You’re too loyal for that.”

  It was true. If he’d thought it would’ve hurt Bill’s operation, he never would’ve gone after the bull for Lance.

  “I need that loyalty.” McGowen stepped closer and clapped him on the shoulder like they were old friends. “You’re smart. You’ve got a good eye. And I taught you everything you know.”

  In other words, Bill felt he’d earned Lucas’s loyalty.

  “This is one hell of an opportunity,” the man added. “You can name your price. I’ll double your salary if you want.”

  “Wow.” He was too stunned to say anything else. This kind of opportunity was beyond anything he’d ever dreamed for himself when he’d walked out of that prison cell. He’d thought he’d be a day laborer for the rest of his life. Bill was right. It was a hell of an opportunity. But if he took it, he’d have to live on the ranch. And he’d be on the road half the year, easy. That wasn’t the life he’d started to envision for Naomi and Gracie and him. Their lives were here and if he wanted to be with them, he’d have to stay, too. “Sorry.” He shook his head. “It’s a generous offer, but I can’t take it. I’m planning to build a life here.” He was committed to it, to doing the tough work of atoning for his mistakes.

  McGowen nodded as though that was what he’d expected to hear. “Offer’s open for a while. Don’t answer now. Take your time. Think about it,” he said as though confident Lucas would change his mind.

  When Bill McGowen wanted something, he rarely took no for an answer.

  * * *

  “Okay, honey.” Naomi stooped in front of Gracie, swallowing back yet another round of threatening tears. “You remember to listen good. And if you need anything—anything at all—Jessa and Lance will be right nearby.”

  “I know, Mom,” the girl said as though she’d gotten tired of hearing it. “You’ve told me five times.”

  “I can’t help it.” Naomi rose, peeking out the window next to the door. Mark stood on the porch waiting. They’d talked a lot while Gracie was getting ready to go to the concert. He’d told her he didn’t intend to take over. He was happy to come up to Topaz Falls and visit Gracie for a day here and there while they built a relationship.

  But God, a relationship. That was the word that made all of this real. It wasn’t like this would be the first time her daughter had been out of her sight, but it felt so different. She wouldn’t be at one of her friend’s houses. She’d be out building a relationship with another parent.

  “You have to prepare yourself to give up some control,” Colton had told her when they’d driven back to Topaz Falls after she’d met Mark. And wasn’t control always the hardest thing to give up? For ten years, no one else had had any say in Gracie’s life except for her. But that wouldn’t be the case anymore. She might make most of the day-to-day decisions, but a relationship with her dad meant Gracie would have another voice speaking into her life.

  “Mom…” Her daughter tugged on her hand. “Are you gonna be okay?”

  “Of course.” Naomi forced a confident smile. “I have a ton to do around here. And I know you’ll be in good hands.” Especially with her spies out on assignment. “You have a great time, Gracie girl. Don’t worry about me.” She pulled her daughter into a tight hug. “I’ll see you in a coup
le of hours.” Which should be nothing. The girl was in day camp six hours a day all summer long. Naomi could survive two hours. She shook her head at herself and opened the door to walk Gracie out onto the porch.

  Mark always looked nice. A lot more preppy in those khakis and a blue polo shirt than he’d ever dressed in high school, but she guessed that’s what happened when you moved to the suburbs.

  “Ready?” he asked Gracie.

  “Ready!” She bounded down the steps, but Mark hung back.

  He gave Naomi a sympathetic look, like he understood how hard this was for her. “You sure you don’t want to come?”

  She almost said yes. But that wouldn’t be fair to any of them. Mark had rights. He had the right to get to know his daughter without her hovering. “I can’t,” she said apologetically. “I have a lot to do around here tonight.” It wasn’t a lie. She had to go over the budget for the inn and look into getting some marketing started in various publications.

  “All right, then.” He gave her a friendly smile. “I’ll have her home by eight thirty. No later.”

  “Perfect.” She walked him down the steps and watched as the two of them climbed into his very nice, very safe-looking Volvo SUV.

  The house felt lonelier and quieter than it ever had. Bogart seemed to think so, too. The second Gracie left, he became Naomi’s shadow, following so closely she almost stepped on him. “It’s okay, Bogy,” she said, trying to convince herself, too. “She’ll be back soon.” But the minutes seemed to crawl by as she turned on some Carrie Underwood and finished up the dinner dishes.

  After she’d put the last one in the dishwasher, she looked at the clock. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since Gracie had left.

  This was going to be the longest two hours of her life.

  In search of a longer distraction, she dug through the messenger bag where she’d stuffed all of the papers for the inn—the estimates and the permits and the lengthy to-do lists. But they seemed just as disordered as her mind. Pulling out a stool, she sorted them into piles. She needed to develop a filling system—