Claiming Her Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

His gaze shot to his shoes, and he immediately stopped limping. “I don’t have blisters. The only thing rubbing me the wrong way is this ranch.”

  Lucy clutched her clipboard to her chest as she inhaled slowly, counting to ten while willing herself not to respond. Keeping her mouth shut every time Jack Harris pushed her buttons might very well prove to be the most difficult challenge of the next six weeks.

  Chapter Four

  They’d been on the trail almost three hours. Jack pushed his ball cap to the back of his head and pulled off his sunglasses to peer at the clear azure sky. The July sun’s merciless rays mocked him.

  He shifted in the saddle, to no avail. His backside still ached and his T-shirt clung to his damp skin. Who went on a trail ride in one-hundred-degree weather? The humidity made the air so thick that he could taste it each time he opened his mouth.

  From the bits of conversation that drifted back from the front of the line of horses and riders, everyone else seemed to be in good spirits.

  Yeah, this was definitely an acquired taste. Jack took a swig of water and positioned Grace so the horse trotted behind the chuck wagon.

  Covered with waterproof canvas and led by two horses, the wagon looked like an old-fashioned movie prop. More important was that it was large enough to hide Jack from inquisitive eyes as he peered at his banned electronic device.

  Grace offered a snuffle and snort, shaking her head back and forth as though in warning when he slid his phone from his pocket and checked for reception.

  No signal.

  Again.

  He had to admit that it irked him that so far Lucy Maxwell had been right about everything. From his blisters to the cell reception.

  At the back of the wagon, the right canvas flap flew open and Dub Lewis stuck his head out, a huge toothless grin on his freckled face.

  “Hi, Mr. Jack!” he called.

  “Hey, isn’t that dangerous?” Jack returned. “You might fall out of there.”

  “I have a seat belt on.”

  “Yeah, well, be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “You better,” Jack grumbled.

  The smile on Dub’s face widened as he continued to chatter. “You’ve got Grace. Can I ride her?”

  “Maybe.” Jack offered a begrudging smile at the kid’s enthusiasm.

  “Did you know that we’re having carrot cake later?”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  Dub nodded, eyes rounding.

  “It’s Auggie’s birthday,” a familiar female voice said from behind Jack. The soft thud of horse hooves and the jingle of tack told him she was approaching on his right.

  Lucy. Jack slid his phone back into the pocket of his jeans.

  “Who is Auggie?” he asked, turning slightly in the saddle.

  Seated confidently on a black mare, in Levi’s and her red ranch logo T-shirt, Lucy was all smiles today. She held the reins with soft chamois gloves and nodded up ahead, where a dozen or so boys wearing riding helmets bounced gently in the saddle, along with the rhythmic motion of their horses.

  “See the tall boy with the black helmet? The one on the chestnut mare? Near the end?”

  Jack nodded.

  “This is the first time in his life he’s ever celebrated his birthday.”

  “What do you mean?” Jack said, hoping her words weren’t literal.

  “Exactly that.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Neglect and abuse situations. We see it more often than you want to know.” She shrugged. “But today he’s already had a birthday breakfast and opened presents before we started the trail ride. Plus, our cook for the trip has brought along a cake and a few surprises.”

  “That doesn’t sound like roughing it to me.”

  “Aw, come on, Jack. Lighten up, would you? It’s a birthday. We consider them part of creating family traditions for our kids.”

  “Traditions?” he muttered.

  “Sure. Things you probably take for granted, like holidays and special celebrations, and yes, birthdays.”

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “What about me?”

  “Did you have traditions growing up?”

  “Things became a little blurry once we lost my parents.” Lucy pulled a foot from the stirrup, showing off one of the hand-tooled red leather boots. “See these boots?”

  “Yeah, they’re hard to miss.”

  “I asked for red boots for my birthday one year when I was a foster. I wanted them so badly. Of course, I didn’t get them. But the biological daughter of my foster parents did. For no reason. It wasn’t her birthday, and she hadn’t asked for them.”

  Lucy smiled and glanced down at the boot with pride, carefully placing her foot back in the stirrup. “I bought myself these boots. Every single time I put them on I am reminded of why I do this job. It’s because every kid deserves red boots for their birthday.”

  Jack did his best to keep what he was feeling from showing on his face. Lucy Maxwell wouldn’t want to be pitied. He flashed back to his last birthday with his brother. Blowing out candles and opening presents.

  Bicycles. They’d both wanted bicycles, as badly as Lucy had wanted her boots.

  He swallowed hard. They’d gotten them, too. Daniel’s bicycle was still somewhere at his aunt’s house. Before he could dwell on the thought, the flap of the wagon popped open once more.

  Dub stuck his head outside to flash them a smile and disappeared again.

  “Is that safe?” Jack gestured toward the wagon. “Seems to me he could go bouncing around.”

  “The wagon was specially made for the ranch, and not only does it have an authentic flour cupboard and a cooking shelf on the outside, but it was also fitted with four seats that have full seat belts. It’s very safe.”

  “Once again, I’m impressed. Where did it come from?”

  “Donated by a local carpenter.”

  “Is Dub the only one riding inside of there?”

  “Yes. He’s the only child under ten on this trip.”

  “Was that in my honor? Because he’s my buddy?”

  “You flatter yourself.” She tipped the brim of her straw Stetson lower against the sun. “Dub’s entire ranch family is on the trail ride. House parents included. We thought it would be good for him to join us.”

  “There are lots of things for a little kid to get into on a camping trip. Accidents happen when you least expect them.”

  “Sounds like you have firsthand knowledge. Care to share?”

  Jack stiffened. No, he wasn’t ready to bare his soul to a woman he hardly knew. A woman he was supposed to be investigating. He shook his head and glanced away.

  “He knows the rules, Jack. And he’s going to stick to you like...well, you know.”

  “Terrific. He’s not going to be in my tent, is he?”

  “No, he’s sleeping with two of his ranch brothers.”

  “What exactly is the point of this trip?”

  “The point?” She released a breath and stared at him, hands on the saddle horn. “Does everything have to have a point?”

  “Yes. You’re utilizing plenty of ranch resources. Donated resources. I’m trying to understand the value.”

  “Jack, it’s about planting seeds. Sometimes you can’t see the harvest. You have to trust that by doing what you are called to do, what this ranch is called to do, the harvest will be there.”

  “How does the trail ride fit into your harvest?”

  “First and foremost, this is all about fun. Think like a kid for a minute, instead of an attorney. These are children who are accustomed to going to bed on broken glass, emotionally. In their former life, they went to sleep uncertain what tomorrow would bring. We promise them that they don’t have to think about tomorrow. They can simply be kids.” Her chocolate e
yes continued to pin him.

  Against his better judgment, he paused to consider her words. Just be a kid? He hadn’t been “just a kid” since that summer so long ago. Jack raised his head and met her gaze. Words refused to come.

  Lucy sighed when he didn’t respond. “Ah, Jack, you don’t understand.” The words were laced with deep regret.

  Jack swallowed hard. He did understand. Far more than Lucy would ever realize.

  Up ahead, a horse whinnied and laughter broke out, soon turning into raised voices. The raised voices changed into shouts of anger. The unexpected stop of the chuck wagon caused the rear of the entourage to stop. Like dominos falling over, horses were forced to sidestep with the sudden halt. Their protesting whinnies filled the morning air.

  “Excuse me,” Lucy said. She picked up her reins and nosed her horse off the well-worn path, through the wild grass and around the wagon.

  “Hit him again, Matt,” a voice rang out.

  Jack pulled Grace’s reins to the left in an attempt to figure out what was going on. And then he saw what everyone was looking at. Two teenage boys were entangled on the ground, rolling from the dusty trail to the grass with fists flying. Jack ushered Grace ahead and into a trot.

  “Stop this, right now!” Lucy yelled. She slid from her horse as two men pulled the boys apart. Good-size teenagers, they struggled to get free and reach the object of their wrath: each other.

  The riders up ahead had stopped and turned in their saddles to see what was going on behind them.

  The boys stumbled around, kicking up dust with their boots, stretching from the hands that held them, fists flailing in the air as they continued to struggle.

  Lucy stepped into the space between the boys.

  “Not a good idea,” Jack muttered. “Never get between two opposing forces.”

  One of the boys broke loose. When he shot forward to grab his opponent, his shoulder knocked into Lucy.

  “Lucy!” Jack shouted, realizing the warning was coming much too late.

  Down went the ranch director.

  “You hit Miss Lucy,” a voice accused.

  Gasps, followed by a hushed silence, filled the air as Jack leaped from Grace to the ground beside Lucy’s limp body.

  A stunned Lucy blinked when Jack wrapped his arm around her shoulders and helped her to a seated position. Then the dark lashes fluttered closed, resting against her too pale cheeks.

  Jack’s hands trembled as he held her, and emotion slammed into him as hard as the protective urge that rose when he tucked her slim frame against his chest. From deep inside, his brain furiously balked at the unexpected tenderness so suddenly roused. But for the first time in a long time, he ignored that analytical voice. Right now, all that mattered was that Lucy was okay.

  Around him, denim-clad legs crowded closer as riders hovered.

  “Move back!” Jack thundered. His words were laced with an unspoken threat, and he didn’t care who heard it.

  “Go get Rue,” someone urged.

  Jack assessed the too still woman, fear and adrenaline kicking his heart rate into overdrive.

  “Everyone, please stand back. We need a little air,” a female commanded a few minutes later. A tank of a middle-aged woman with gray curls, wearing a faded and wrinkled version of the red ranch T-shirt and a straw Stetson with a hole in the brim, slid to the ground next to Jack. With a brief glance in his direction, she opened a battered leather medical bag. “What happened?”

  “She got in the way of an argument,” Jack said. He looked up at the crowd surrounding them. The guilty teenager swallowed hard, his face pale and filled with shame.

  “Matt and Abel.” The woman glanced up at the boys. “Seriously? Again?”

  “I take it they don’t like each other,” Jack said.

  “No, they love each other. They’re biological brothers. That’s the problem.”

  “Are you a doctor?” he asked when she tossed him a pair of surgical gloves and slipped on another pair herself.

  “Correct. Dr. Rue Butterfield.” She nodded. “Consider yourself deputized as my assistant.”

  “Code of the West?” he asked, as he picked up the bright blue gloves.

  “Yep.” She gently checked Lucy’s pulse. “Lucy? Honey, can you hear me?”

  Lucy moaned, her eyes opening and then closing again. “What happened?” She reached a hand to touch the back of her head. “Ouch.”

  “Sit still and lean forward,” Rue said when she tried to stand. “Let me check your head.”

  Rue pointed to a gauze pad. “Can you tear that open for me?”

  “She’s bleeding?”

  “A small cut at the back of her head, along with a small lump.”

  Jack tore open the package and handed Rue the gauze pad.

  “So you’re Leo’s replacement.”

  “Am I?” He met her no-nonsense dark eyes.

  “Jack Harris, right?”

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  “Word travels faster than a sneeze through a screen door around here. We heard Meredith Brisbane’s stuck-up lawyer nephew stopped the funding to the ranch.”

  “Rue,” Lucy whispered, her voice shaky.

  The woman continued despite Lucy’s protest. “I heard that there was a volunteer here for the summer taking his place.” Her gaze was intent as she assessed him. “You have your work cut out for you, Jack. Leo did the job of two men.”

  “I heard it was three,” he returned.

  Rue laughed. “Probably true. Point being, he wouldn’t have left if Lucy could match the pay he was offered elsewhere. It’s too bad our director here is the one picking up the slack. I’d like to give that attorney holding up the money a piece of my mind.”

  “Rue. Please,” Lucy said with a warning tone in her voice.

  “A real jerk, huh?” Jack said.

  “Yep. I’d like to see him walk a day in Lucy’s shoes. Then he might understand.”

  “That sounds like a really good idea,” Jack said with a smile. “Maybe we can arrange it.”

  Rue smiled back. “I like you, Jack.” She pulled a penlight from her pocket and checked Lucy’s pupils. “And I appreciate you stepping up to save the day. We need more men like you around Big Heart Ranch.”

  “Thanks, but perhaps you should hold your kind words until summer is over.”

  “I’m a good judge of character. I doubt you can do anything that will change my opinion.” She winked and turned to Lucy.

  “Anything in particular hurt, Lucy?” Rue asked. “Besides the head.”

  “My dignity.”

  Rue pulled a stethoscope from her bag. “I’ll take a quick listen and do a little palpation, honey. Just want to make sure you didn’t break a rib or anything.”

  When she finished her evaluation, Rue pulled the stethoscope from her ears and nodded. “So far everything seems fine.”

  Lucy attempted to stand.

  “No. Not just yet.” She looked to Jack. “I’m going to go get ice. Keep an eye on her. She may have a concussion.”

  “Will do,” he said.

  “You’re going to expel those boys who were fighting, right?” Jack asked once Rue was out of earshot.

  “It was my fault. I got between them,” Lucy said.

  “Lucy, you were knocked down.”

  “It was an accident.”

  “I’m not so sure. You could easily file charges. Aggravated assault.”

  “Against who? Jack, the ranch is responsible for those boys. I’d be filing charges against my own ranch.”

  He paused, stymied by her logic. The woman was right again.

  “Besides, they’re brothers. Siblings fight. That’s normal. Didn’t you ever fight with a brother or sister?”

  The question knocked him in the gut. Sure, he and Daniel had fo
ught. And he’d give anything for another day to fight with him.

  “Jack?” Lucy whispered. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t have a sister,” he said. “And my brother is dead.”

  She released a soft gasp. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  Once again, Lucy tried to stand.

  “The doc said to sit still.”

  Rue returned with a plastic bag of ice in her hand. She looked between them. “Everything okay?”

  “Your director is being stubborn.”

  Rue offered a hearty chuckle. “What else is new?”

  “Hey, I’m right here,” Lucy protested.

  “So you are,” Rue said. “Wrap a bandanna around the bag of ice and apply it to the lump on your head for as long as you can tolerate. Twenty minutes or so at a time. I’ll be checking on you to be sure you don’t have a concussion. Let me know if you’re nauseated or dizzy.”

  “Shouldn’t she go back to the ranch?” Jack asked.

  “No!” Lucy interjected, sitting up straighter. “I’m fine. I’m also in charge this week.”

  Rue held up a hand. “Whoa, now, Lucy. Take it easy.”

  “I know the symptoms of a concussion. I’ll be careful,” Lucy said.

  “I trust you will, and that you’ll ride in the wagon with Dub,” Rue said.

  “My horse...”

  “I’ll handle your horse,” Jack said. “How much farther is it anyhow?”

  “About half a mile,” Rue said. She turned to Lucy. “Do you want me to ride in the wagon with you?”

  Lucy waved a hand. “Completely unnecessary.”

  “All right,” the other woman said. “I’ll check on you after we make camp.”

  “Thank you, Rue,” Lucy said.

  Jack echoed her words.

  “No problem. It’s my job. And thank you for your help, Jack.” Rue offered him a broad smile.

  “You certainly impressed General Butterfield,” Lucy muttered as the doctor left. “That doesn’t happen often.”

  “Did I?” He chuckled. “Why did you call her General?”

  “Retired US Army. She volunteers full-time at the ranch.”

  “No kidding.” He shook his head. “Could have fooled me when she said she was a doctor. A general, too?”