The Rancher's Redemption

by Melinda Curtis

  He turned at the gate to the road, the same gate where she’d kissed Ben just yesterday, the gun in the crook of his arm.

  “What are you doing?” No lie, the sight of the gun made her jittery. It wasn’t hunting season.

  “Sometimes, you have to put trouble out of business.” Henry pointed to the pasture and what looked like the troublemaking heifer.

  Rachel laughed once, awkwardly. “You’re not going to shoot her.”

  “I am. I fixed the pickets today.” Henry raised the rifle and seemed to be taking aim. Not that he stood steady as a rock. He swayed a bit, as if there was a stiff breeze, which there was not. “That piece of beef is going to cost you. She won’t stay up-country with the herd, which means she won’t get pregnant. Might just as well eat her, little lady.”

  “No, Henry.” Rachel was close enough now that she could put a hand on his gun barrel and lower it. “That’s not how we do things at the Double T. And I’d like you to stop calling me little lady. That’s not me anymore.” The words were freeing.

  “I’m sorry, li... I can’t keep up no more.” He sniffed and shuffled back a step, an old man coming to grips with the limitations of his age. He gestured toward the heifer. “Not if we keep stock like her. I’m letting your father down.”

  “Henry.” Rachel took the rifle and put the safety back on. “The gate is fixed.” Thanks to Ben. “That heifer can’t get in. Your pickets will be safe. And my dad would be grateful of the help you give me.” Her father would also be proud of how Rachel was transitioning to ranch life. She might not do things the way her father did, or as efficiently, but she was getting them done. And she could only get better every day.

  “I spent a lot of time on that fence.” The old man wiped at his nose.

  “And I appreciate it.” Rachel hugged him. “Come on. Let’s get you back to your shows.” Rachel escorted Henry to the homestead, making a mental note to adjust Henry’s workload.

  Afterward, Rachel trudged up the steps. Ranching was a full-time job. As was legal work. Since Nelly’s judgment, she’d gotten three calls for representation. She felt as if she needed to make a choice. It was just that the ranch couldn’t break even without her small legal fees. She refused to decide about the ranch until the court decision on Friday.

  “We didn’t hold dinner for you,” Mom said when Rachel came inside. She was sitting on the couch, a TV tray in front of her. “Because of the movie.”

  The movie.

  The afternoon heat sank beneath Rachel’s skin. They must not have canceled the cable service as Rachel had requested.

  Nana Nancy had a similar tray in front of her, but she sat in a kitchen chair. “Before you get your panties in a bunch, we’re watching television with commercials. It’s why we couldn’t wait.”

  Rachel sucked in a breath and realized there was macaroni and cheese on Nana’s plate. Comfort food...

  “Love, Actually.” Zoe held Poppy in her lap but near her knees, as if she was afraid to get close to the little thing. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Ha!” Mom pointed at Nana with her fork. “Your grandmother is trying to convince Zoe that Jamie and Aurélia are the best storyline, but she doesn’t have anything to bribe her with.”

  “Colin Firth’s character learns Portuguese for her.” Nana’s fork clattered on her plate. “A man doesn’t love you unless he gives something up for your heart.”

  Zoe made a sound like a cat coughing up a hairball, startling Poppy, who reached for Rachel with a tentative wail. Zoe handed her over and swiped Nana’s napkin to blow her nose.

  Her distress went unnoticed by Rachel’s mother. “Your grandmother would choose Colin Firth if he was an animated voice in a cartoon.”

  “That’s because he has talent,” Nana said staunchly.

  “That’s because he’s adorable,” Zoe said tearfully. “Men who are adorable steal a woman’s heart.”

  That statement got through to Mom. She searched Zoe’s face and then Rachel’s, before rising and carrying her dinner dishes to the kitchen. “Seems we could all use some chocolate chip cookies.”

  “Nana, do you remember anything about a land trade with the Blackwells? It might have happened a hundred years or so ago.”

  “That would have been the time of Seth Thompson, my grandfather. He was rumored to be a drinking man. Fell off his horse bringing back the herd and broke his neck. My mother called him a ne’er-do-well.”

  “Nothing about a land trade, though?”

  “Nope. Now, shush. Here comes Colin.” She focused on the television.

  Rachel wandered into the kitchen. Poppy bounced on her hip and held out a hand for her grandmother.

  Mom turned at the sink to face Rachel and took the baby. “What’s wrong? You’ve got that sad look in your eye, the same one you had that time you lost the debate competition at the university.”

  “Surely, I had that look some other time,” Rachel muttered. A time that wasn’t associated with Ben. “If we’re going to keep the ranch, I’m going to need you to help.”

  Her mother bristled. “I do help.”

  Rachel refused to be baited. “I’ll teach you how to do the accounts, so you can see where the money’s going and where it’s needed.”

  Her mom’s chin shot up. “Are you going to give me an allowance, too?”

  Rachel peered in the pot and then stirred the macaroni and cheese. “You decide if you can afford any extras.”

  Without warning, Mom wrapped Rachel in a one-armed hug, balancing Poppy on her hip. “I’m so proud of you, honey. I’ll make you proud of me.”

  “We’ll both make Dad proud,” Rachel said, words roughened with emotion. She slipped free and dished up some cheesy comfort food. “Dad used to talk to Chris Hannigan, didn’t he?”

  “The state representative?” Almost without looking, Mom held a Cheerio to Poppy, who accepted it greedily. “They’d talk every fall in election years. Chris always wanted a donation. Why do you ask?”

  “I think I’m going to need friends in high places.”

  Mom’s face paled. “Is it that bad?”

  Rachel nodded. It was that bad.

  And it would take a long time to set the ranch and her heart to rights.

  * * *

  “YOU’RE A HARD man to track down, Ben.” Ethan was leaning over Blackie’s stall door, staring at him, on Thursday night. “We thought you’d be sitting in the kitchen, using that laptop of yours.”

  “Since you’re the one who called this family meeting—” Jon joined Ethan at the door “—we thought you’d be easier to find.”

  Ben had taken the tall Thoroughbred out for a ride and was cleaning Blackie’s hooves. He’d tested fate by riding the road to the river one last time and taunting Ferdinand, who ignored him, as if the lawyer on the tall horse was no threat.

  Without Rachel, that’s how Ben felt. He’d spent the past two days preparing for court, but he had no heart for it.

  His brothers stood tall and silent on the other side of the stall door. Their dark hair gleamed in the LED lights Zoe had upgraded to. Everything was clear in the barn. Nothing could hide from the brightness. Not a mouse and not a man’s desire to leave.

  Nearby, Jon’s twin girls were cooing over Butterscotch’s foal and begging their dad for a chance to get into the stall to pet her. Butterscotch was content to have the girls give her attention. That horse and Ben’s mother had shared the same patient, loving temperament. Never had a horse and rider been so well suited. That personality was why everyone trusted Butterscotch to this day.

  Ben had always been more like his grandfather—territorial, standoffish with strangers, ready to stir the pot without knowing exactly what would happen if he did. Few people trusted Ben. Heck, few people liked Ben. And after he argued the family’s case tomorrow, that number would dwindle even further.
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br />   Jon caved in to his daughters’ demands and went to supervise their visit to the foal.

  Blackie nudged Ben with his big nose, pushing him out of the stall, more than happy to be rid of him. Or more accurately, impatient to be given some oats. Ben slid the bolt home on the stall door, picked up the nearby bucket and held it high for Blackie to eat his treat.

  “You’ve developed quite an attachment to that horse,” Ethan noted, not unkindly. “Not to mention an affinity for my clothes.”

  Since he’d told Rachel the truth, Ben had raided the stash of clothes Ethan had left in the ranch house more than once. “You’ll get your clothes back on Saturday.” Ben stroked beneath Blackie’s forelock. “As for Blackie... He and I are a lot alike.”

  Jon backed into the center of the barn where he could keep an eye on his daughters and his brothers. “Meaning you both stand high above everyone else’s problems.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ben hung the empty bucket outside Blackie’s stall, avoiding Jon’s look. His brother had tossed out a similar observation after dinner on Saturday.

  “I’m talking about you buying a plane ticket to go home this weekend.” Jon’s voice took on that you-better-behave tone that had served him so well as the older brother to four boys. “I’m talking about you leaving when we need you here.”

  “You won’t need me anymore after tomorrow.” His gut clenched, not from dread at the upcoming court case, but from dread that tomorrow would be the last time he’d see Rachel.

  “Don’t think I don’t remember what you did when Mom and Dad died.” Jon should have been a judge. He never forgot anything and he always—always—knew how to hit at a man’s vulnerable side. “You took off on your horse with a bedroll. I searched half a day trying to find you.”

  “I thought you’d been swept away by the river.” There was no joke in Ethan’s tone. He’d been scared.

  When Jon had brought Ben back, Ethan had been waiting at the barn. As soon as Ben got off Rodrigo, Ethan had slugged him in the shoulder and then hugged him the way Ben had wished he could hug their parents.

  If he could have hugged them one last time before they died.

  “I wanted perspective.” Ben had wanted to be alone. To look down on the Blackwell Ranch and see what it would be like without the two people he’d loved most in the world in it. But the bridge had been out, so he’d ended up at the end of the river road, staring at the Rockies until Rachel had joined him.

  He’d gotten no perspective. But the foundation of friendship and love with Rachel had been built.

  “And after Zoe eloped with Big E,” Ethan said, still using that neutral voice, still looking at Ben with understanding in his eyes, “you didn’t even spend the night here. It was off again to New York.”

  The twins giggled softly, the way ranch kids did because they knew not to startle the stock with loud noises. Jon had raised them to belong to the land the way their father had raised the Blackwell brothers.

  A shaft of longing pierced Ben’s heart. He wanted someone to give Poppy that love of the high plains, that respect and love for animals that made it possible to live up here without time clocks, billable hours or security desks.

  “I’m wondering why you came home now,” Jon said carefully. “You never answer the phone when we call. You rarely reply via text. And all of a sudden, you call Ethan back? You come out here? You don’t help around the ranch, but you take off on that animal as much as you can.”

  “You’re questioning why I came?” Ben made to move past his big brother.

  Jon caught Ben’s arm. “No. I’m asking you to question yourself. When will you settle down and be happy?”

  Never. Happiness without Rachel... Ben lifted his chin. “I am happy.”

  “You’re wearing a polo shirt with blue jeans, Ben.” Ethan apparently felt the need to jump back in to the conversation. “You’re straddling two worlds.”

  “And which world would you have me in? This one? There’s no place for me here.”

  “There could be,” Jon said, which was rich considering he wanted to sell the Blackwell Ranch, too.

  “There’s no place for me here,” Ben repeated, speaking with a finality that should have overridden the sickening churn in his gut. But he was a lawyer and used to forcing his emotions into a small little box that he rarely opened. He slammed the lid now. “And if we’re selling, there’ll be nothing for me in Falcon Creek. You do want me to sell, don’t you?”

  His brothers exchanged glances the way Ben and Ethan used to, communicating without speaking. About what, Ben had no idea.

  And then Jon nodded and said, “Why did you call us out here?”

  “I want you to attend court tomorrow. Nine thirty. I’m going on record with the truth.” He swallowed and stared at his toes. The toes that felt comfortable in Ethan’s boots. “I just want you to know what I did wasn’t your fault. It was mine. And it was wrong for me to wrap up my hurt over Zoe leaving with my guilt over being gullible. This time...when I leave...if you call, I’ll pick up the phone.”

  His brothers closed in for a group hug.

  It was good to clear out the dirt and darkness from his past.

  He only hoped his words tomorrow cleared the way for the Thompsons and the Blackwells to have a better future.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “ALL RISE FOR...”

  Rachel stood, smoothing her slacks over her thighs and wishing she could smooth out the jangle of nerves inside her.

  She’d spent years arguing cases in this building. It was like a second home to her. But today she felt out of sorts. Today, she was taking on the Blackwells and nothing was how it should have been.

  Because it wasn’t just any Blackwell. It was Ben. And Ben was unpredictable.

  He’d put his career on the line to do what was right for strangers in New York last month, and yet he hadn’t done right by Rachel five years ago. She’d had three days to prepare for this meeting, but her preparations were nothing like Ben’s. She hadn’t spent hours researching past water cases. The past... What Ben had done... What Big E had done...

  It was time to move forward.

  The courtroom was full this morning, not sparsely populated with a few people waiting their turn at justice. People had come to watch a show.

  Including Rachel’s family and Zoe. They sat behind Rachel. Mom held Poppy and was slipping her Cheerios to keep her quiet. Nana was knitting.

  Rachel’s neck twinged. She couldn’t let her family down.

  The opposition had his own group of fans. Ethan and Jon sat behind Ben, and Katie one row behind them.

  Ben stood in his charcoal gray suit with his perfectly knotted blue silk tie. He probably had no idea the color of his tie made his blue eyes seem electric.

  “I’m disappointed, but not surprised, that you two couldn’t come to an agreement before seeing me today.” Judge Edwards settled behind her bench. “Failed out-of-court settlements are becoming a trait of yours, Miss Thompson.”

  “We tried, Your Honor.” Rachel attempted to make the lie sound sincere. From the start, she hadn’t been willing to negotiate anything. And now, it was all or nothing.

  Judge Edwards turned her attention to opposing counsel. “Mr. Blackwell, I hear you have something to say about this matter.”

  “Objection,” Rachel nearly shouted.

  “Good girl,” Nana said.

  Judge Edwards raised her brows.

  “I...” Rachel slanted Ben a glance that didn’t quite reach his face “I’d like to present first in this matter.”

  “I was told Mr. Blackwell has a statement that could resolve this issue,” Judge Edwards said. “Overruled. Proceed, Mr. Blackwell.”

  Rachel sank into her seat, prepared to leap out of it the moment Ben got even a hair out of line.

  “Thi
s is better than Oprah,” Nana said, earning her a hard look from the judge.

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Four words, and Ben sounded like he had no doubts as to the outcome of the day’s proceedings. “Five years ago, a decision by the county court regarding water rights between the Blackwell Ranch and the Double T was made in favor of the Blackwells, despite the Double T being first in time and first in right for the water. Their ranch was founded at least twenty years prior to the Blackwell property, and it is located farther upriver.”

  What was Ben up to? Rachel’s pulse pounded in her temples, a drumbeat to keep her on her toes. She was hyperaware of the clacking of Nana’s knitting needles, the gentle smack of Poppy’s gums on cereal and the nerve-jumping creak of the audience shifting in their chairs.

  Ben held up a piece of paper with neatly typed columns. “I’d like to invite the court to review the water projections for Blackwell Ranch.” At the judge’s nod, Ben approached the bench and handed her the sheet. “This shows that the average water use for the Blackwell Ranch can be met by the underground aquifer. And during peak seasons, the secondary river water rights will supplement their needs.”

  Judge Edwards raised her white brows. “This doesn’t seem to defend your water rights, Mr. Blackwell. Are you going to move that I rule in favor of Ms. Thompson?”

  “Much as I respect the skills of the opposing counsel—” the look Ben gave Rachel was sincere “—if the court could grant me some patience, I have several aspects of this case to go through, which I hope will clarify the water rights between these two ranches, once and for all.”

  Rachel leaned forward in her seat, ready to catch Ben in a lie the moment he tried to cover up the land trade.

  “The court awaits your clarity with bated breath.” The judge instructed the clerk to log in his water projections as an exhibit.

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Ben held up a yellowed scrap of paper next. “This document indicates the land above the aquifer, the land that supplies the Blackwell Ranch with much of its water, was traded by Mathias Blackwell to Seth Thompson in 1919 for a prize bull. This strip of land is currently a road that lies between the two properties.”