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Trusting the Cowboy

Page 2

by Carolyne Aarsen


  “And Vic’s driveway?”

  “Your father hit a deer, then lost control and rolled the vehicle. Neither Vic nor the Rocking M were at fault.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of filing a lawsuit, if that’s what you were worried about,” Lauren said, her mind ticking back to the tall man still sitting in the waiting room. With his dark eyebrows, firm chin and square jaw, he commanded attention. When he had stridden into the office, she had been unable to look away.

  But all it took was a glance at her bare ring finger and her father’s will to remind her of the hard lessons life had taught her about men. Men were selfish and undependable. Between her father, Harvey and her now-former boss, she should be crystal clear on that point.

  In Christ alone...

  The words of a song she had been singing lately slipped into her mind, and she latched on to them. Men might not be able to give anything up for loved ones, but Christ had.

  Which only reminded her again that she needed to be self-sufficient and self-reliant.

  “No. Of course not.” But Drake’s hasty answer, and the way he fluttered one hand in a defensive gesture, told her that he had, indeed, thought exactly that.

  She tried not to feel overly sensitive, reminding herself that Drake knew nothing about her other than what her father had told him.

  “So I’m guessing you’re here to officially check in,” Drake said, settling into his chair behind his desk.

  “Or clock in,” Lauren returned. “I wasn’t sure of the protocol, and I did end up coming a couple of weeks earlier than anticipated.” Getting laid off was a stark motivator.

  “No. It’s fine.” Drake gave her an apologetic smile. “I know your father had his reasons for doing this, and just for the record, I tried to talk him out of it. Tried to explain to him that it could come across as being manipulative.”

  Lauren shrugged. “Let’s be honest here. Like Jodie said after the funeral, it seemed he never gave us anything without strings attached.”

  Her words came out more bitter than she’d intended. Though she and her father hadn’t had the adversarial relationship he and Jodie had, they hadn’t been close, either.

  “I’m sorry, but at least not all three of you had to stay here. You can decide what to do after your two months are up.”

  Lauren heard the unspoken question in his voice and decided to address it directly.

  “Erin said she would go along with whatever decision I make, but you may as well know that we will be selling the ranch.”

  “To Vic?”

  Lauren shook her head. “No. I have a buyer lined up. A client from the firm I worked...used to work for. He has various real estate holdings and has been looking for another investment opportunity. When I told him about the ranch, he was interested.”

  “But Vic has rented your father’s land for the past three years. I thought they had an agreement.”

  “Is that going to be a problem?” Lauren straightened, leaning forward, her heart racing at the thought that he might jeopardize the sale. She would receive one-third of the proceeds, and she would need every penny of that for her new business venture. A venture that she was in a rush to put together after losing her current job. “Does he have a legal right to the property?”

  “As far as I know, your father never gave me anything in writing, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I believe it was a handshake deal. Not uncommon around here.”

  “So I have no legal obligation to sell it to Mr. Moore?”

  “None whatsoever. But I do have to warn you, your father was thinking of drawing up something legal for Vic. If that is the case, and this paper does show up, it will need to be dealt with.”

  “Had he mentioned a price?”

  Drake gave her a number.

  It wasn’t close to what her potential buyer was offering. “And if such documentation isn’t found?”

  “Then he has no claim.”

  Relief flooded her. “That’s good to know. I don’t want anything preventing the sale.” Or forcing her to sell it to Vic at a significantly reduced price.

  As far as she knew, Jodie hadn’t found any paperwork, so it seemed they were in the clear.

  “A word of advice, if I may, Lauren,” Drake continued. “You might want to give him a chance to counteroffer or at least match what your buyer is willing to pay.”

  “Of course. I could do that.”

  “I know he was hoping to get the ranch for his younger brother, Dean.”

  Lauren dredged her memory and came up with a picture of a young man who partied hard and spent the rest of the time riding rodeo. And trying to date her twin sister, Erin. “Dean is ranching now?”

  “Not at the moment. He was injured in a rodeo accident a while back. Vic leased your father’s ranch with an eye to adding it to his holdings and making room for Dean.”

  “Tell Vic to talk to me if he wants to make an offer. He’s waiting to see you next.”

  “Why don’t you tell him yourself?”

  Lauren thought back to the anger he’d revealed when she told him she had a buyer, then shook her head. “No. Better if it comes from a third party.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell him to come up with some numbers.” Drake tapped his pen on the open file in front of him. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “Not right now. Like I said, I wanted to check in.”

  Drake leaned back in his chair, looking as if he had a few more things he wanted to discuss, then he shook his head and stood up. “Okay. You know how to get in touch with me if you have any further questions.”

  She got up and Drake came around the desk to escort her to the door. But before he opened it, his eyes caught hers, his expression serious. “Again, I’m so sorry about your father. I wish you girls had had a chance to get some closure in your relationship before he died.”

  “Jodie mentioned some letters that Dad wrote to each of us before he died. Maybe that will help.”

  “He was a sad and lonely man,” Drake said.

  Lauren forced back her initial response and the guilt that always nipped at her. “I know we should have come to visit more often,” she agreed. And that was all she was going to say. The burden of guilt shouldn’t lie so heavy on her shoulders. Her father could have initiated some contact, as well.

  She thanked Drake again and walked through the door.

  Vic still sat there, but as she came out, he stood, his hat in his hand, his eyes on her. The gesture seemed so courtly, and for some reason it touched her.

  “I need to talk to you” was all he said, his words clipped.

  Lauren did not want to deal with this right now.

  “I’m going to presume it has to do with your agreement with my father,” she said, weariness tingeing her voice, dragging at her limbs. She felt as if she’d been fighting this exhaustion for the past year. The stress of losing her job and trying to start a new business, and now needing to fulfill the terms of her father’s will, had made every decision seem momentous. Impossible.

  “Can we talk now? Can I buy you a coffee at the Grill and Chill?”

  “Not really. I just want to get to the ranch.”

  “Meeting at the ranch would work better. We could do this right away.”

  This was certainly not the homecoming she had expected, but in spite of her fatigue she sensed he wouldn’t let go. “May as well get this over and done with,” she said.

  “I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

  Lauren nodded, then walked to the door, disconcerted when he pulled it open for her, standing aside to let her through.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, thankful she had worn her heels to see Drake Neubauer.

  Though she doubted they’d made an impression on the lawyer, as she glanced up at Vic
she appreciated the advantage they gave her.

  The grim set of Vic’s jaw and his snapping brown eyes below dark, slashing brows sent a shiver down her spine that told her he would be trouble.

  Chapter Two

  Vic parked his truck beside Lauren’s car and gave himself a moment to catch his breath, center himself. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked out over the Rocking M. The house stood on a rise of land overlooking the corrals below. The corrals and pasture eased toward the Saddlebank River on one side and the rolling hills leading to the mountains on the other. So often he had driven this yard, imagining his brother living here

  It was the promise he’d held out to Dean and himself that got him through the past ten months.

  A way to assuage his own guilt over the fact that he had been too late to get Dean off that rank bronc at the rodeo. As a pickup man, it was Vic’s job to get the riders safely off the horse as soon as he saw they were in trouble.

  But Vic had had other things on his mind that day. Other things that drew his attention.

  It had only been a few seconds, the smallest moment when Vic made eye contact with Dean’s ex-girlfriend Tiffany sitting in the arena a few feet away. Smiling at her. Thinking about how they could be together again. She had told him that she’d broken up with Dean. She had called out to him just before Dean’s ride and blown him a kiss.

  Then Vic had turned his head in time to catch the sight branded into his brain forever.

  The bronc Dean was riding spinning away from where he and his horse were, ready. The horse making another turn, crushing Dean’s leg against the temporary panels set up in the arena. Dean’s leg getting caught in the crossbars as the horse pulled away.

  Vic still heard his brother’s cries of agony, saw him writhing on the ground in the arena.

  The girlfriend walked away from both of them a week later. Dean started walking four months later.

  His brother still struggled with resentment and anger over what had happened.

  And Vic wrestled with a guilt that gnawed at him each time he saw his brother grimace in pain. Each time he listened to Dean talk about how Tiffany had broken his heart.

  Buying Keith McCauley’s ranch was supposed to fix all that.

  And now?

  Please, Lord, let that piece of paper be somewhere in the house. I need this place for Dean.

  The prayer surged upward as he eased out of the truck, heading up the walk, the futility of it clawing at him. He and Jodie had discussed it only briefly, but she hadn’t found any evidence of this agreement.

  Maybe she hadn’t searched hard enough, he thought as he trudged up the stairs to the house. Maybe his presence would coax it out of its hiding place.

  Keith hadn’t left anything about the lease agreement at Drake’s and he hadn’t given anything to Vic, so the only other place it could be was here. In Keith’s office in the ranch house.

  As he sent up another prayer, he knocked on the door.

  He heard laughter from within, and he eased out a wry smile. His own house was a somber, sad place. His father’s death a few months ago had only added to the heavy atmosphere looming over the house since Dean came home from the hospital three months before that, disabled and bitter. There’d been no laughter in the Moore household for a long time.

  No one came to the door, so he rang the doorbell. Cheerful chimes pealed through the house, then he heard footsteps coming.

  He wasn’t surprised to see Jodie answer, her head tipped to one side, her dark hair caught back in a loose ponytail, her bangs skimming eyes so blue they looked unnatural.

  They were a different blue than Lauren’s, which were more gray. Cooler.

  He shook that thought off. Lauren was attractive, yes, but he had to keep a level head. Too much was at stake to be distracted by a good-looking woman.

  “Hey, Vic. Lauren said you were coming,” Jodie said, stepping aside to let him in. “I thought you’d be here sooner.”

  “I had to stop at the dealership to get some parts for my horse trailer.” Nestor, who owned the place, had been particularly chatty. Then John Argall stopped in and asked him how Dean was doing and if Vic was coming back to Bible study. Vic had felt bad at the disappointment John had displayed. The past month he had taken on extra work. Work Dean would have done.

  He didn’t blame his brother. Dean wasn’t as sure as Vic was that Keith had made proper arrangements to protect their handshake agreement so he went back to work for Jan Peter, a local carpenter. Vic hadn’t signed anything, but Keith had assured him that he had written something up.

  He just needed to find it. Then Dean could stop working for Jan and they could start ranching together.

  “Come in,” Jodie was saying. “Lauren and I were catching up. She’s trying to talk me out of purple bridesmaid dresses.”

  “You’re not looking for my opinion, I hope?”

  “I thought you could weigh in. When Lauren has an idea, she’s immovable.”

  That didn’t bode well for any negotiations, Vic thought.

  “Can’t say I have a lot of expertise in that area. I’m only standing up for Finn, and he told me to wear clean blue jeans.”

  “Listen, mister, when it comes to wedding attire, you check with me before you check with my future husband.” But she spoke in a cheerful tone, adding a wink.

  He returned Jodie’s smile, wide and open and happy, a much different woman than the one who’d come to Saddlebank with a chip on her shoulder and a cocky attitude. Now, engaged to Vic’s good friend Finn Hicks, she looked relaxed. Happy.

  Vic wondered what Jodie thought of the potential buyer of the ranch and if she liked the idea. He was thinking of asking her but quashed that thought as he toed off his boots. He had to figure this out on his own. Bringing Jodie in would only create complications.

  He set his scuffed and cracked cowboy boots beside Lauren’s high heels, the contrast making him laugh.

  “We’re sitting in the dining room. Do you want some coffee?”

  “Sure. Sounds good.” He followed Jodie through the kitchen. His steps slowed as he passed Keith’s office, which was opposite the eating bar of the kitchen, and he glanced inside the open door.

  Papers covered the desk that ran along one wall. The filing cabinet’s top drawer was open.

  “We’ve been going through Dad’s stuff,” Jodie said, catching the direction of his gaze. “I meant to do it when I first came but thought I would wait till Lauren was here. She’s the organized one.”

  He suppressed the question that nagged at him. He had time yet. Lauren might have a buyer all lined up, but she still had to stay at the ranch for two months before she could make a decision.

  He followed Jodie to the end of the house. Vaulted ceilings soaring two stories high arched over the living and dining room. Light from the upper windows slanted down into the space. A fireplace made of river rock bisected the far wall, framed by large bay windows overlooking the pasture and the mountains.

  To his left a set of stairs led to the loft and a couple of bedrooms above, and the basement with its bedrooms downstairs. He knew the layout of the house because he had spent time here before.

  Though all those stairs might not be best for Dean at the moment, his leg would get better. Vic had to believe that. And when he did, it would be a perfect place for his brother to live. A real home.

  “Sit down. Ignore the mess,” Jodie said as she padded barefoot to the kitchen. She wore blue jeans, frayed at the cuffs, and a gauzy purple and pink shirt that had tiny bells sewn to the hem. The bells created a happy tinkling sound as she took a mug out of the cupboard and poured him some coffee.

  Lauren, in her stark dress and hair still pulled back in a bun, was a complete contrast to her sister. She glanced up from papers strewn over the table. Her dark
-framed glasses gave her an austere air. She held his eyes for a moment, then looked away.

  Dismissed once again, he thought, remembering their earlier encounter too well.

  “Finn told me you’re working the rodeo coming up?” Jodie said, setting the mug of coffee on the table.

  “Yeah. Walden was short a pickup man, so I thought I’d help out.” Vic settled in the chair across from Lauren, taking the cup with a smile of thanks.

  “You always were a pickup artist,” Jodie joked as she sat as well and shuffled through the papers in front of her.

  “Oldest joke in the book,” Vic groaned.

  “I feel like I should know what a pickup man is,” Lauren said, slipping her glasses off her face and setting them on the table.

  “See that, Vic?” Jodie said, her voice holding a note of admiration. “That’s why I should wear glasses. People think you’re all smart and important. And when you take them off, it looks like you’re getting ready to do business. People take glasses-wearing people seriously.”

  Vic chuckled as Lauren shot her sister a wry look. “You should take that show on the road,” Lauren said.

  “It’s my only joke,” Jodie said with a grin. “Wouldn’t take me far.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you have more you could add to your repertoire,” Lauren said, smiling back at her sister.

  “You’d have to come with me as my straight man, though. A role you play to perfection.”

  Lauren laughed again and Vic couldn’t look away. She was a beautiful woman in her own right. But now, relaxed, smiling, a glint of humor in her eyes as she teased her sister, the light from the window behind her lighting her hair, she was luminous.

  He groaned inwardly as he took a sip of his coffee, frustrated with his response to this woman. He was here to talk business and he was coming up with mental compliments?

  “Getting back to my original question, what is a pickup man?” Lauren asked.

  Vic waited for Jodie to answer, but she was frowning at a piece of paper, seemingly unaware of her sister’s question. So Vic replied.

  “We ride along the outskirts of the arena during the rough stock events—bareback, saddle bronc, bull and steer riding. We help the guys off the horses if we can, make sure the bulls and horses get out of the arena safely. That kind of thing.”

 

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