That struck a raw nerve. Gunner and his father hadn’t seen eye to eye on anything in the years before his death. Not that Gunner had been around much to test that. He’d put Blue Thorn in his rearview mirror shortly after college, sick of Dad looking down his nose at the wild life Gunner loved. Dad’s expectations had smothered Gunner, and even Gran’s compassionate spirit hadn’t been enough to keep him on the ranch. With his mom gone when he was seventeen, Gunner saw no point in staying where he wasn’t understood. One by one his siblings had followed suit, heading off the ranch and out from underneath Gunner Senior’s judgmental glare until the old man had died years later practically alone and nearly bankrupt.
Gran had written Gunner then, pleading for him to return to the ranch and save Blue Thorn. He’d come for Gran. Gunner had come to prove Dad wrong about the kind of man he was, and to overhaul Blue Thorn with his own stamp. He wasn’t sure Dad would ever be proud of what he was doing here, but the sentiment raised an unwanted lump in Gunner’s throat anyway.
“Click on that green arrow there,” he said, not looking her in the eye. “That’s how you forward an email. I’ll invite them to come out, and you can stuff them full of whatever goodies you want.”
He felt, rather than saw, her smile. “You’ll have such fun, you wait and see.”
There’s where you’re wrong, he thought to himself, regretting the whole thing already.
Chapter Five
Brooke scanned the rolling pastures of Blue Thorn Ranch as she drove down the road leading to Ramble Acres for another meeting Thursday. She’d never paid much attention to the landscape before in her frequent trips out to the development. Now she found herself watching the land roll by, looking for signs of the bison herd.
And, if she was honest with herself, she was watching for Gunner Buckton. After his email the other day, she had nearly picked up the phone twice to talk to him. She knew better than to judge someone by their emails, but even someone who wasn’t a specialist in communications could see the man was a mix of annoyed, cornered and reluctant. But he was at least trying to be cordial—even though it seemed to physically pain him. At least it was a start. Perhaps she could really be the key to paving a useful resolution to the tensions between the Bucktons and DelTex. If she could foster some understanding that would make Gunner feel less under attack, as well as be a face of compassion for DelTex, then everyone would win. Including her—for Mr. Markham had gone out of his way to say that a victory here would boost her career.
They were crafting a relationship with the Bucktons, she and Audie—that much wasn’t manufactured. Brooke genuinely liked the Bucktons, especially Adele. She enjoyed Audie’s enthusiasm, how she’d come up with the idea for a thank-you drawing and how Audie talked to anyone who would listen about “Daisy the mama bison and how my mom got me to meet her.”
The honest truth was that she owed Gunner Buckton a personal thank-you, and it was a plus for everyone if that thank-you was delivered face-to-face.
On that impulse, Brooke pulled into the ranch gate and pressed the intercom button. She wasn’t meeting anyone at the Ramble Acres site—just taking photographs and picking up some preliminary floorpans—so this was an easy detour. Besides, hadn’t Mr. Markham told her to use any time and resources she needed to foster the relationship? A kindly thank-you would be a wise investment of half an hour, if that.
To Brooke’s surprise, Adele’s voice came over the intercom.
“It’s Brooke Calder, Mrs. Buckton. Audie’s mom from the other day?”
“Of course I know who you are, honey. Are you at the gate?”
“I wanted to come say thanks in person, if that’s okay.” Was this an imposition? Pushy? It wasn’t like Brooke to second-guess herself in situations like this.
Her fears proved unfounded. “How nice of you” came Mrs. Buckton’s pleased reply. “I’d love to have a visit. Do you remember how to come up to the main house?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, then. I’ll buzz you in. Come on up.”
Brooke felt as if she ought to ask, “Is Gunner home?”
“He’s out in the pens this morning helping with vaccines. And don’t worry, he doesn’t bite.”
Brooke indulged in a chuckle as the long metal gate rolled on its gears and drove her car down the curving lane. Today the pastures were mostly empty, but far off to her left, Brooke could see groups of bison moving about. Under a clear blue sky and among the bright green spring grass, the animals looked right out of a Western landscape painting. They drew her eye in a way cattle herds had never done—it must have been the size of them, the slow way they moved. Majestic seemed a grandiose word, but it was the one that came to mind. At least they looked that way from a distance. Stubborn had been her first impression of Daisy, and for good reason.
She drove past the barns and pens, wondering if Gunner was looking up to mutter something inhospitable as he saw her little car drive by. “I’m being nice, I’m capitalizing on a prime opportunity and I’m keeping the lines of communication open,” she reminded herself as she parked on the gravel circle in front of the house’s wide porch.
Adele pushed open the front door and gave a big wave. She seemed genuinely happy to see Brooke. Maybe Mrs. Buckton didn’t get many visitors anymore and was glad for the company. It would be hard for such a people person as Adele Buckton to be isolated all the way out here. Brooke’s public-relations side even mused that Adele might be a perfect future resident for Ramble Acres, where she’d have friends and shopping and things to do right outside her door but would still be close to the ranch.
“I’m tickled you decided to stop by!” Adele called out as she worked her way down the stairs. “I was so pleased with Audie’s drawing, I had Gunner show me how to print it out, and I put it on my refrigerator.”
“That’s so sweet,” Brooke said as she got out of the car. “Audie will love to hear that. She draws all the time.”
“Well, all my grandchildren are a bit big to be playing with crayons, but I’m looking forward to the day when my great-grandchildren fill my fridge with drawings.” The old woman’s eyes sparkled. “Got none of those yet, but I’m a patient gal.” She poked a bony elbow into Brooke’s side with a wink. “I do hope some of my four grandchildren give me some great-grandbabies before the Good Lord calls me home.”
“Gunner has three siblings?”
“A brother and two sisters. They’re scattered all over the country right now. Gunner was the first to come on home, but I pray the others will follow in their own time.”
Brooke found she liked Adele Buckton more and more. Her own mom was kind, and she’d been incredibly supportive in the first months after Jim’s death, but she lacked the vibrancy Adele had. Mom always seemed tired and annoyed with the world, whereas Adele looked as if she couldn’t wait to get out into it.
“You were so kind to say yes to Mrs. Cleydon’s field-trip request. I was in the area, and I felt I ought to come by and say an extra thanks in person.”
“Oh, well, then you ought to be thanking Gunner. He’s the one who extended the invitation.”
“Somehow—” Brooke leaned in “—I have a feeling he was put up to it.”
Adele pulled back in mock surprise. “My, but you are as sharp as you look.” She squeezed Brooke’s hand. “I like to think an old gal like me still has some weight to throw around now and then.”
Brooke could only laugh. “Well, I’m glad you did. Audie talks about nothing else.”
Adele headed toward the door. “Oh, good. Come on in. I’ve got some iced tea in the fridge.”
They ended up sitting on the porch for a spell—with Brooke’s affection for the delightful matriarch growing every minute—before the tall figure of Gunner came out from beside the barn and stopped at the sight of the baby-blue hatchback. Brooke watched his whole posture ch
ange, as if his spine hardened right before her eyes. His steps slowed as he turned toward the house, and Brooke felt his eyes burn suspicious holes in her chest, even from a distance. He did not welcome her presence, and it showed all over Gunner’s face.
Adele either didn’t see—which Brooke highly doubted—or chose to ignore her grandson’s annoyance, instead waving as if she had a grand surprise for Gunner. “Look who’s here!” she called out.
“I can see.” Gunner’s voice was low and tight. “Field trip’s not for another week, Ms. Calder. What brings you out our way again?”
“I had an appointment,” Brooke replied, pressing on even when Gunner’s eyes broadcast I’m sure you did, “and I wanted to say thanks to both of you. In person. For our visit and for welcoming the class. I know it’s an imposition.”
It sure is, Gunner’s tight jaw said despite his easy, “It ain’t much trouble.”
“It ain’t any trouble at all,” Adele expanded. “Why, I have to say I love the idea of children on the ranch. We should do more of that kind of thing. Oh, that reminds me.” Adele pushed herself up off the porch chair and grabbed her cane. “I have something for that darling Audie of yours. Gunner, sit yourself down and have the rest of my tea while you occupy our guest. I need to go find something in the parlor.”
The minute she disappeared through the front door, Brooke put out a hand. “You don’t have to stay. I’m sure you’re busy.”
“You’re right—I am.” Gunner sighed as he eased his tall body down into the porch chair. “But she’ll hound me if I don’t, and tea wouldn’t go down so bad after twenty-four vaccinations anyhow.”
He took a long drink from the glass Adele left then put it down slowly. “Don’t you for one second take advantage of Gran, you hear?”
* * *
Gunner watched Brooke’s eyes widen in shock. Or was it guilt?
He hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, but the sight of her car on the grounds had shocked him. Gran had gone on for days about the visit with Audie, putting the girl’s drawing up on the fridge, for crying out loud, latching on to folks the way Gran always did. She trusted too easily. Gran believed the best in people, even when she ought to know better.
Brooke’s mouth pursed as if she was swallowing the reply she really wanted to give him, and she placed her hands on the arms of the wicker chair. “I really did come here to be nice. To say thank-you for what you did for Audie and what you’re going to do for the class.”
He didn’t believe that. “You drove all the way out here just to be nice?”
She hesitated just a moment before admitting, “Like I said, I had an appointment.”
“At Ramble Acres.”
“Yes. I need to take some photographs and pick up some paperwork.”
“Two visits in as many weeks. Mighty convenient.”
Brooke stood up and walked to the porch rail. “Mr. Buckton, I get that you’re no fan of DelTex.”
No fan was an understatement, but he let that slide.
“And I understand that you care about your family’s property. But I’m not your enemy. I’m not out to hoodwink you or your grandmother. I’d like to help you find a solution to a difficult situation.” She turned to look at him, leaning up against the rail. “Have you ever thought that maybe neither party really understands the other here? That instead of locking horns with DelTex, you could talk to each other and find a solution that’s better for everybody?”
Gunner stood up. “Well, don’t you sound like a glossy brochure.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I write those glossy brochures.” Her chin jutted up in a defiant gesture that almost made him laugh. “It’s my job to help DelTex communicate with their customers and the community.”
Gunner sat back on one hip. “You mean help them look the other way while DelTex steals honest people’s land?”
She took a step toward him. She had fight in her, and that intrigued him. “That’s not fair.”
“Oh, there’s a lot about this that’s not fair.”
“Mercy, Gunner, can’t I leave you alone for ten seconds without you picking a fight?” Gran practically skewered him in the ribs with her cane as she came out the door.
“It’s all right,” Brooke said, smoothing her curls back from the breeze and slanting a dark look at Gunner. “It’s not as if I didn’t expect this.”
“Well, you shouldn’t need to expect this. Not when you’re a guest on the Blue Thorn.” Gunner noticed what Gran was carrying and rolled his eyes as she placed a small stuffed bison into Brooke Calder’s hand. “This is for Audie. My granddaughter Ellie knits them for us to give out to visitors as a souvenir.” She looked right at Gunner. “Only, we don’t get so many visitors lately.”
“Gran...”
“Don’t you Gran me, young man.”
Brooke had the sweet surprised look down to an art form. “That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Buckton, but I...”
“Call me Adele, won’t you?” Gran sidled over next to Brooke as if they were old friends.
That was the last straw. Gunner took off his hat and glared at Gran. “You know who she works for. Can’t you see why she’s here?”
Gran pulled herself up and stared at Gunner, even though she had to crane her neck back to look him in the eye. “She works for that company we don’t like, and she’s here being nice and saying thank-you for a kindness. She’s being a mature adult in a less than perfect situation, which you don’t seem to be able to do. Have I gotten all the details right?”
Gunner wanted to stomp off the porch and have no part of this business, but Gran would never stand for it. When Gran got like this, she was liable to grab him by the ear and yank him back onto the porch if he tried to get away. Instead, he merely stuffed his hands into his pockets and said nothing.
Gran turned back to Brooke. “You folks at DelTex want the land by the northwest creek, am I right?”
“I believe so,” Brooke replied.
“You know so.” Gunner tried not to grind the answer out through his teeth.
“Have you seen the land by the creek, Brooke?”
“No.” Brooke’s eyes showed she could see where this was heading exactly like he could.
“Well, then, I would like,” Gran said, giving the word an emphasis that declared it a demand rather than a suggestion, “for you to take Brooke out there and show her what all the fuss is about. Have a conversation instead of a standoff.” She looked at Brooke. “I take it you can spare the time?”
Brooke at least looked smart enough to know she had better spare the time when Gran put it that way. “I’d much rather have a conversation than a standoff. I’d be happy to take a look at the creek.”
Gunner swallowed the irritating sensation of being a twelve-year-old boy who’d been told to mind his chores. He was now legally the head of Blue Thorn Ranch, but no one on the property ever dared to defy Gran, and now surely wasn’t the time for him to try. “Well, fine, then. We’ll converse. We’ll take my truck.” He looked down to check that she had sensible shoes on for such a trip. “At least you’re not in high heels or anything.”
Brooke’s chin jutted out. “As a matter of fact, I’ve got a pair of boots in my trunk for when I take Audie to riding lessons.” Her eyes practically shouted “So there!”
As she walked off to the little blue car, Gunner pondered what he could safely say to Gran for her little stunt.
She beat him to the punch. “I know exactly what you’re thinking, so don’t start. I like her, but I’m no fool. I think she’s genuinely being nice, but I get that she may have motives like you suspect. So calm yourself down, be nice to her and think of it this way—it often pays to keep your enemies close.”
Gunner raised an eyebrow at this cunning side of his grandmother.
She pointed up
at him. “But it pays far better to not have enemies at all. And that comes from talking and listening. Something you’d better learn to do a bit more of if you’re gonna make it in life, son. No one wins a standoff—most times there are only two losers.”
He bit back the urge to argue further. After all, he could spend the next half hour showing a pretty lady one of his favorite parts of Blue Thorn Ranch, or he could spend it forcing large hairy beasts into a small pen so he could stab them with a big needle. Some decisions were easier than others.
Pulling the keys from his pocket, he gave Gran an “I can play nice” smile and hit the remote ignition. The dark blue pickup roared to life.
Brooke walked back in a pair of tooled cowboy boots that changed the look of her outfit completely. This was definitely a better choice than vaccines. After all, both might hurt for a bit, but maybe like the shots, this might do him well in the long run.
He opened the door for her. “Hop in,” he said, tipping his hat and offering his hand to help her climb into the high cab.
She slid right past his outstretched hand. “Thanks, I will.” And with an ease he knew she meant for him to see, she nimbly stepped up and settled herself in the passenger seat.
As he pulled the truck around to head out toward the creek, he turned to Brooke. “Wave at Gran like this will be loads of fun.” He gave an exaggerated wave to match the old woman’s wide grin from the porch.
Brooke complied. “Won’t it?”
Gunner looked right at his passenger. “That depends on you.”
Chapter Six
Brooke stood on the low ridge and took in the spectacular view. The strong sun warmed the early-spring breeze to keep the weather pleasant. There was something awe-inspiring about huge stretches of Texan pastures, especially as the bluebonnets began to fill the land. She loved Austin, loved her little house in her colorful neighborhood on the edge of that city, but a place like this somehow sank under the skin and fed the soul. It wasn’t hard to see why men—and women like Adele—fought so hard to keep land like this.
The Texas Rancher's Return Page 5
