Her Stubborn Cowboy

by Patricia Johns

  The rumble of an engine came up the drive, and Chet ambled through the kitchen toward the front window. A brand-new blue pickup crunched to a stop on the gravel, and when the door opened, he blinked in surprise to see his brother. He hadn’t spoken to Andy in the year or more since their father’s death, and the sight of his younger brother made his throat tighten. After the funeral, they’d had a massive fight over the inheritance and things had been said—the kind of things that couldn’t be taken back. So what was Andy doing on his doorstep? Was this a friendly visit, or was he here to pick up where they’d left off?

  Chet pulled open the front door and gave his brother a cautious nod. Andy, shorter than Chet by several inches, slammed shut the truck door. He was tall and well built—the family resemblance between the two men was unmistakable, except that Andy’s hair was auburn in a testament to their redheaded mother. He shuffled his boots in the gravel.

  “Hi,” Andy said.

  “What’s going on?” Chet asked. “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

  “Ida kicked me out.” Andy slapped his hat against his leg. “I was hoping I could stay here with you for a few days until I get things sorted.”

  “What do you mean, kicked you out? The wedding is in two months, I thought.” In fact, Chet wasn’t even sure if he was invited. Ida had sent him the invitation, and he suspected she was trying to be diplomatic. That didn’t mean Andy wanted Chet anywhere near the event.

  “We broke up.” Andy gave a weak shrug.

  “What did you do?” Chet demanded.

  “Can I stay here?” Andy asked, ignoring the question.

  “Well, you’re here,” Chet said gruffly, which was as close to a yes as Andy was going to get. Andy grabbed a suitcase from the truck’s flatbed and Chet stepped back and let his brother through the door. “So what happened?”

  “I asked if we could postpone the wedding a bit. It’s in two months, coming up so fast, and—” Andy’s face looked older now, more lined and haggard. “You were smart to stay single.”

  Chet wasn’t so much smart as unlucky in love. He’d dated a few women over the years, but in a place the size of Hope, he’d known most folk all his life. A few new people moved in every few years, but most of them were older or with young families. You didn’t get a lot of available women putting up their shingles in a place like this.

  Andy strolled toward the kitchen, and Chet followed. This was their family house—they’d both grown up in it—and treating it like a shared home was a hard habit to break. Chet had inherited the house, the barns and one hundred and seventy-five acres. His brother had inherited the other two hundred and twenty-five acres—mostly pasture—and their shares combined to make the Grangers’ four-hundred-acre total. Their father’s intention had been for the brothers to run the ranch together, except that Andy had never been interested.

  “So it’s over, I guess,” Andy went on, opening the fridge and peering inside. “You don’t have much, do you?”

  Over. His brother had been dating Ida for four years, and it was simply done? This was the first woman Andy had brought home whom the whole family really liked. He turned his attention to the fridge.

  “What do you want?” Chet asked. “How about sausage and eggs?”

  Andy shrugged his assent and headed to the battered old table, where he sank into a chair. Chet set to work in the kitchen. He grabbed the eggs and sausages from the fridge and moved around getting what he needed. Andy scrubbed a hand through his reddish hair, leaving it standing upright.

  “So just like that?” Chet asked. “You sure this isn’t a fight? Cold feet?”

  “She’s not the right woman.”

  “You thought she was when you proposed,” Chet said. That had been before their father died and while everyone was still talking to each other. Andy had used their mother’s engagement ring. Made sense—Andy had always been close to Mom. Chet had been out on the land with their father, and Andy had seen a lot more of their mother before she passed away, something Chet had always felt a little envious of. Had he known their time would be limited...

  “A lot changed in the last year,” Andy muttered.

  A lot had changed, but truth be told, Chet had been slightly jealous of his brother’s good fortune. He’d fallen in love and was getting married. What better way to get over the death of a parent than by starting your own family?

  “Speaking of that year,” Chet said. “I haven’t heard a peep from you.” He hauled an iron skillet onto a burner and turned it on.

  “Well...peep.”

  Chet rolled his eyes. He’d have to take what he could get. He’d missed his brother, gone over their fight over and over in his head, looking for some fresh insight into why they fought and how to fix it and always coming up empty.

  “Dad should never have split the land up like that. It wasn’t fair,” Andy said. “Not that you’d notice.”

  “You got more land than I did,” Chet retorted. “You got all the pasture. It’s worth a good chunk of change, so don’t go acting the victim like Dad didn’t remember you.”

  The pasture was in Andy’s name, but Chet had been using it just as their father had used that land before him. Chet had always looked at the ranch as theirs—his and Andy’s—but it was no secret that Chet was the one to run the place and do the actual work. Andy was more of a silent partner, and Chet liked that setup just fine.

  “I meant to talk to you about that,” Andy said, squinting. “I’m going to sell it.”

  “What?!” Chet slammed a spatula on the counter and stared at his brother in disbelief. “You can’t do that!”

  “Totally can,” Andy replied. “It’s in my name, and like you said, it’s worth a small fortune to the right people.”

  “Yeah, but it’s our pasture,” Chet said. “Where are we supposed to graze two hundred and fifty cows if you sell it out from under us?”

  Andy shrugged. “Maybe this isn’t a great time to talk about this.”

  “No, this is a perfect time,” Chet said. “This ranch needs land. You know that. I can’t run the place without it.”

  Andy pulled out his phone and punched away with two thumbs for a few seconds, then passed the phone over. “This is the development company that is interested in buying the whole lot—yours included—for more money than we’d ever get otherwise. We’d be rich.”

  Rich. That was what Andy wanted—cash? Rich was when you had land under your feet that you owned free and clear. Rich was when you could stand outside at dawn and watch the sun rise over fields you owned as far as the eye could see. Rich wasn’t about a fistful of cash; it was about something deeper, more meaningful. It was about roots and history, being connected to the living expanse of something bigger than yourself.

  “I’m not selling,” Chet said. “This is ours. This means something. The Grangers have been on this land for generations.”

  “Then maybe it’s time to try something else,” Andy said. “Think about it. There are more opportunities out there than you even know about, and with that kind of money—”

  “I don’t need to think about it,” Chet snapped. “I’m not selling.”

  “Okay, then.” But there was something in Andy’s tone that Chet didn’t trust, the same vibe he’d given off when he was planning to do something he knew he’d get in trouble for when they were kids. More often than not, Chet waded in to try to fix it and ended up in trouble, too. But not this time. They were adults now, and the consequences went far deeper than a month of grounding.

  “Are you selling no matter what?” Chet asked cautiously.

  Andy nodded. “Yeah, I am. I love this town, too. I know you think I’m some unfeeling jerk. You’re not the only one with childhood memories in Hope. Our parents are buried here, so don’t go getting all high and mighty on me about family and land and all that garbage that you love to lecture me about. I don’t want to stop here. I only get to live once, and I don’t want to regret turning down that kind of cash. It could rea
lly open doors.”

  Chet had no idea how life could get better than what he already had, but this had always been their problem. Chet loved this land, and Andy just wanted to get a few bucks to escape to the city. Andy wanted fun and Chet wanted stability. They’d never been able to see eye to eye, not even as teens.

  “Then sell it to me,” Chet said.

  “Are you willing to match their offer?” Andy leaned over and pressed another button, pulling up an email. The number was far larger than Chet could possibly get credit for. He felt his stomach drop.

  “You know I can’t match that,” he said. “But I’ll give you what it’s worth, fair and square.”

  “This is what it’s worth now,” Andy said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

  “What are they going to do with all that land?” Chet asked.

  “They’re going to make a resort, apparently,” Andy said. “There are all sorts of rich people who want to pay good money for a ranch experience, but they want to be comfortable at the same time.”

  The very thought turned Chet’s stomach. But his brother hadn’t sold the land yet. Andy tended to talk big, and while he wouldn’t put it past his brother, he still had hope. Maybe Andy’s mind could be changed yet.

  “Don’t jump into it,” Chet said. “I’ll buy you out if you let me. Just...” He sighed and didn’t finish the sentence. His brother knew exactly what this would do to him and ironically—or obliviously—still wanted a place to stay.

  “I’ll think about it,” Andy agreed. “But you do some thinking, too. This could be good for us—really good. You’re always so tunnel-visioned, but if you gave this a chance—”

  “I told you. I’m not selling.” Chet couldn’t help the sharpness to his tone.

  They fell into silence for a few beats. It had always been like this when Andy was around. He managed to take a calm, serene day and turn it into an argument.

  “So when are you going to apologize to Ida and go home?” Chet asked, changing the subject.

  “I’m not.” Andy sighed. “It’s definitely over. She gave me back the ring, and I’m hiring movers.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chet said gruffly. He felt a wave of sadness. He’d miss Ida. She’d been a great addition to the family.

  Andy nodded somberly. “Hey, you remember that girl Mackenzie—the one I was head over heels for?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I should have married her while I had the chance,” Andy said, his voice low.

  Those words sparked anger deep inside Chet. Andy hadn’t appreciated what he had when he had it. Mack had been sweet and gorgeous, smart and funny. She’d been the whole package, and Andy had started up with another girl behind Mack’s back. When Chet told Andy that he knew what was going on and that it wasn’t fair to either girl, Andy had agreed to choose between them. Chet had been sure that he’d land on the side of Mackenzie, but he hadn’t. He’d dumped Mack with little ceremony and carried on with some girl he’d met at the county fair. And now he was looking back thinking that he should have married Mackenzie? Mackenzie was lucky to have gotten away relatively unscathed!

  “You’re an idiot,” Chet said. “You cheated on her.”

  “I was an idiot,” Andy said. “I was also seventeen, and I’ve grown up since then. If I had a chance with Mack again, I wouldn’t squander it.”

  What terrible timing. He didn’t have the stomach right now to tell Andy that Mack was back, mostly because he was pretty sure he’d clock his brother if he even mentioned going on over there to talk to her. But he couldn’t keep Mackenzie a secret for long. Still, some things could wait for another day. He had his brother back, and irritating though Andy was, Chet had been hoping for a reconciliation every single day for the past year. Family mattered. So did engagements, come to that.

  “Ida’s worth some effort,” Chet said. “Four years. That’s a lot to throw away. Go grovel.”

  “She said she’ll really miss you guys, too,” Andy said, turning away from the window. “Hey, but this is what lasts, isn’t it? We’re brothers. Women come and go, but we Granger boys stand together, am I right?”

  “Yeah, until some development company comes along,” Chet said, bitterness edging his voice.

  “You could make a fortune, too,” Andy said, sitting down as Chet put a plate of sausage and eggs in front of him. “Try something new, Chet. Take a chance. I want to do this together.”

  He glanced out the window toward the house next door, the roof of which was just visible from where he stood. Mack was back and so was Andy, and they were already resuming the old roles they used to play. Andy was breaking hearts, Chet was holding together the ranch, and Mack was—

  Mack was what, exactly? Mack, still as gorgeous as she’d once been, with that ornery streak and the defiant way of facing him down that made his mind go into dangerous territory. And there was still a very solid line between him and Mackenzie. Only this time it wasn’t about being too principled to make a move or about keeping the Granger family united. It was now about keeping his ranch. Because if he ticked off his brother this time, Andy had the trump card—he had a juicy offer to buy his land, and he didn’t need Chet for that.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, Chet got up earlier than ordinary and slipped out of the house to start his chores. He was eager to get outside again after an evening with his brother—at least, that was what he told himself. It would be ridiculous to get up an hour early to rush through his work so he could get to Mack’s place as soon as possible... Ridiculous, plain and simple.

  That morning, he’d snuck around the kitchen like a ninja, not wanting to wake up his brother with the sound of cooking. Andy could get his own toast whenever he roused himself. The night before, they’d stayed up late, Chet listening as Andy made the case for selling their family’s land and starting fresh with some new venture. Andy had obviously put a lot of thought into this scheme, and his business degree hadn’t been wasted. There were statistics about profit and loss, land equity and... Chet couldn’t even remember all of it. All he knew was that he wasn’t selling, no matter how good the deal might be. This land wasn’t about cash; it was about roots, and Chet wasn’t about to be budged on that.

  The chilly morning air mingled with the last dregs of his coffee. He drank it black and strong, the same way his dad used to take it. And when he pulled on his boots and dropped his hat on his head, he felt the same peace that flooded through him every morning. It was something to do with the smell of the barns and the sound of horses nickering before they could even see him. Or maybe it was the way the sun eased over the horizon as he lifted bales of hay into the back of the work truck—a twelve-year-old Chevy that was mottled with rust but still going strong. It was hard to pin down exactly what settled into his soul so perfectly, but this was the life for him.

  He and Andy used to do chores together as kids, but there had been more than a few mornings when Andy was let off the hook—normally for a feigned stomachache—and Chet went out with his dad alone. He’d cherished that time. His father had been a quiet man who’d kept his own counsel, but when he and Chet would walk out to the barn together, his father would talk. Chet was the first to know about his mother’s cancer because his father had told him one morning in the field.

  It wasn’t all heavy talk, though. His father would tell him stories about the Granger men who had come before him—working this very land under his feet. There was the grandfather who’d drunk himself into an early grave and a great-uncle who’d bought the most westerly section for ten dollars and a jar of preserves. One ancestor had been a ranch hand on this land and ended up marrying his boss’s daughter—Matilda Granger, if he recalled properly—and running the place for his father-in-law until the old man died. The ranch was then left to a Granger cousin instead. This land had been fraught with conflict and grit, and hearing the stories had made Chet feel as though he belonged with the rough group of men who had worked the land before him. As a kid listening to the fami
ly lore, he’d never imagined that he and his brother would be part of that Granger conflict, but remembering those stories now, he sensed the irony. Apparently, this land came with an ability to cause strife.

  Chet’s chores went faster than usual, and after giving a few instructions to his ranch hands, Chet drove over to Mackenzie’s place. He didn’t know exactly what he was expecting today, but he was definitely looking forward to seeing her. This was different from before. She was a grown woman now, not a naive girl, and he found himself wanting to get to know her all over again. She was the same old Mack, and yet she was so much more now. Was it crazy of him to entertain these thoughts?

  I’ll be her friend. I’ll help her out. That’s it.

  That was what he kept telling himself, at least.

  Mackenzie was waiting for him on the wooden steps. She cradled a mug of coffee between her hands, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail so that her face was fully exposed. She looked more vulnerable that way, her blue eyes lighting on his truck as he pulled up. She put down her mug and waved.

  “Morning!” she called as he turned off the engine and hopped out. “You’re earlier than I thought.”

  “I got an early start,” he admitted. “I was pretty eager to get out of there. My brother showed up last night.”

  “Andy’s here?” She frowned, and he wondered what that meant to her. She’d been pretty smitten with his younger brother back in the day. “What’s he doing with himself now, anyway?”

  “He lives out in Billings,” Chet said. “Manages a car dealership.”

  “And why did he come here?” she inquired, squinting up at him from her perch on the steps. She shaded her eyes against the morning sun.

  “He, uh—” Chet cleared his throat. “He had a bit of a falling-out with his fiancée. He’s out here to cool off and I’m hoping they’ll patch it up.”