Her Stubborn Cowboy

by Patricia Johns

  “You’re better off without him,” Chet said. “Just leave it at that.”

  Mackenzie pulled a hand through her hair, tugging the blond tendrils away from her face. She looked as if she was about to speak a couple of times but stopped. Finally, she said, “So tell me this—why is Ida better Granger material than I was?”

  Chet shook his head. Better for Andy? It wasn’t about that. It was about Andy being a moron, but he couldn’t explain all of this. It was over and done with. It was ten years behind them. She was better off just letting it all go.

  There was a very big difference between his feelings for Ida and his feelings for Mack. Ida had his respect and he’d been looking forward to having her as part of the family. She’d have been good for Andy, good for the Grangers and a great addition to Thanksgiving dinner. But he’d never imagined something more with Ida. He’d never fallen in love with her. With Mack, he’d imagined much more, longed for a chance to hold her close... And when he’d told his brother to choose Mackenzie, he’d been doing the right thing in spite of his feelings for her.

  “I told you,” he said slowly and clearly. “I wasn’t against you.”

  And that was all he could say.

  Chapter Six

  When Chet pulled up to her house, Mackenzie gathered the handles of the plastic bags holding the salt licks in one hand. A graceful exit would be best—not that she was even sure she could pull one off. The last couple of minutes of their ride together had been in silence, the big cowboy next to her seeming to almost vibrate with tension. She was confident that he’d rather be anywhere but in this truck with her. Whatever he was feeling, he wasn’t saying aloud, and the closer they got to home, the more Mack wished she could just put this whole trip behind her.

  Chet turned into her drive and eased to a stop in front of the low ranch house.

  “Thanks for the ride.” She wouldn’t be surprised if it was the last he ever offered.

  Mackenzie pushed open the door and slid down from the passenger seat. Chet cleared his throat, drawing her gaze back over her shoulder. Those gray eyes were pinned on her again, and she could see conflicted emotion swimming there.

  “Look—” he scrubbed a hand through his hair “—I don’t know what you heard, but I never thought you were beneath Andy.”

  She wasn’t sure what he wanted from her, and she paused, one hand on the open truck door, the other full with the bags. What good did rehashing this even do? It didn’t change what had happened.

  “Maybe you were just looking out for your brother. We can leave it at that.”

  Did she really want to hear the truth about why she hadn’t measured up when Ida had? She knew her own flaws, but hearing them repeated by Chet wouldn’t exactly make her feel any better. Maybe it was just better to agree—Ida, whoever she was, was a better choice.

  “I was looking out for him—” He bit off the words and shook his head. “It was more complicated than that, though.”

  “Did I get between you and Andy or something?” she asked.

  “No. Of course not. Andy and I had issues that predated you, trust me. He was lucky to have you. I always knew that.” He thumped his hands on top of the steering wheel, his frustration obvious.

  She blinked. Lucky? He had a funny way of showing it. But since they were already discussing this, she might as well get the answers she’d been wanting for the past ten years.

  “So why convince him to dump me, then?” she asked.

  “I can’t go into exactly what happened,” he said. “Suffice it to say, I didn’t convince him to dump you.”

  “You—” She stopped, her mind going over all the information she had about that breakup. “Andy said that it was because you convinced him—”

  “If I did, that wasn’t my intention,” he interrupted. “I never told him not to be with you. I wasn’t trying to break you up.”

  “So what did you say to him?” she pressed.

  He was silent for a long moment, then sighed. “Some things should stay between brothers. I owe him that much.”

  And there it was—that door closing again between the Granger family and everyone else. Of course he’d side with his brother—he always did! So how come Ida got to stick her foot in the door?

  “Okay, well...fine.” She adjusted the bags in her hand—they were starting to feel heavy. “Thanks again for the ride.”

  She slammed the door and turned toward the house. It shouldn’t have mattered as much as it seemed to. She had no desire to be with Andy—this was about Chet. She knew that much. She cared what Chet thought of her, felt about her... She hated that Ida had gained his trust and his good opinion, while she hadn’t. From what she could tell, Ida wasn’t a country girl, either, so what did she have that Mackenzie didn’t?

  A warm wind rustled through two big elms in the front yard, and the scent of warm grass and lilacs met her with a comforting embrace. The Grangers had never been anything but complicated, but her grandmother had always managed to make her feel safe and secure, and the smell of the summer breeze brought her grandmother’s memory back so strongly that she felt tears prick her eyes.

  Mack glanced back once and found Chet’s gaze trained on her, his expression like granite. He raised two fingers in a salute, then turned his attention to the mirrors and the truck crunched backward. She headed straight to the front door, and when she got there, she looked back again to see the truck pulling out onto the road.

  What had he meant about not being the one to convince Andy to dump her? That had been Andy’s story—there was no room for miscommunication there. So which one of them was lying? And if Chet hadn’t done it, why would he protect Andy’s lie? But the Granger brothers were like that—they had each other’s backs. It seemed she had their backs, too, because when Andy was being trashed by those women in Ranch and Feed, she’d done what felt right and stood up for him. The Grangers were protected on all sides. But who had her back when she needed it?

  Mack opened the front door and dropped her bags on the wooden floorboards. Her cell phone started to ring at that moment, and she dug it out of her pocket on the fourth ring. It was her father’s number, and she closed her eyes as she picked up the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mackie, how are things at Granny’s?”

  He refused to call the ranch hers, and the old annoyance spiked inside her. “I’m good. How are you, Dad?”

  She tossed her keys onto a narrow hall table covered in a white doily that hung down the sides. It would be hard to empty out all of these little corners that had Granny’s touch to them, and she wasn’t sure that she ever would. She felt as if they kept her here, somehow—kept her memory more vibrant.

  “Good...good...” He cleared his throat. “How is your mother?”

  “She asked me not to tell you anything about her.” Her parents hadn’t even bothered keeping a good ex-relationship going. As her mother had put it, Mackenzie was grown, so what was the point?

  “So that hasn’t changed, huh?” Her father sounded irritated. “It’s been a decade, for crying out loud. How long is she going to hold a grudge?”

  “No idea, Dad.” She still had a pretty hefty grudge going, too, if that counted for anything. “But let’s not talk about Mom.” It felt like betrayal to discuss her behind her back, anyway.

  “Then let’s talk about you,” he said. “I’ve stumbled across something I think you’re really going to like.”

  “Oh?” She was only half listening as she ambled toward the kitchen. She needed to grab a quick snack before heading out to check on the animals, and her mind was moving ahead to her chores.

  “A horse stable.”

  “What?” She paused in the act of opening the fridge.

  “A horse stable.” He repeated it matter-of-factly. “There’s one for sale just outside Billings. Business is booming. You wouldn’t believe how many city folk want to own their own horses for riding but obviously don’t have the space to keep them. So this stable house
s and cares for the horses—all for various fees, of course—and it’s doing very, very well.”

  “And what does this have to do with me?” she asked, pulling a loaf of bread and some bologna out of the fridge.

  “It’s for sale. For less than what you’d get for the ranch.”

  So he wanted her to sell? She knew her father had been deeply hurt when he was cut from Granny’s will, but was he actually out looking for places she could buy instead?

  “Dad, this is Granny’s ranch. It isn’t just some plot of land somewhere—it’s...” Did she really have to explain this to her own father?

  “It’s old. It’s run-down. It’s a whole lot of work to run if you try to stick it out. I don’t know if Granny ever told you, but the neighbors, the Grangers, have been interested in buying Granny out for years. If you wanted to sell—”

  “You think they’d be interested,” she concluded.

  “I know they’d be interested,” he replied. “About a month before Granny died, she mentioned it to me again—that Granger offered to buy her out. He wants to expand, and he wants it bad.”

  “Chet?” she asked.

  “That’s him.”

  She’d suspected that Chet’s interest in the land was more than simple neighborly goodwill, but the past few days together had worked to reassure her. Chet didn’t seem as though he wanted to take over—he seemed as though he actually wanted her to stick around. In fact, he hadn’t offered to buy her out once. Her father’s casual comments sparked that old suspicion. Men could lie, especially if they had enough motive to do so. Chet had just been turned down for a loan at the bank, and he’d seemed pretty deflated by it all. She doubted that he had any more cards up his sleeve. If Andy sold the pasture, buying her out would be the next logical step...if she were willing to sell, that was. Could all of his friendship, his offer of help—could it all have been aimed at softening her up for the ultimate request to buy her out?

  “Look, Mackie.” Her father’s tone softened. “Running a ranch is a huge amount of work. If you buy an already thriving business, then it’s a whole lot less grunt work for you to do. That means time to travel, too, might I add. It just makes financial sense. That ranch isn’t worth much more than the land that you’re sitting on right now, but a business like this one would keep the money flowing into your pocket, where it belongs.”

  “Granny wanted me to try this—”

  “Granny was a bitter old woman,” her father snapped. Then he sighed. “I don’t mean to discount the memories and all that, but if I’m not sentimentally attached to that old ranch, then why should you feel any obligation? I was just thinking practically. Just looking out for my daughter. If Granger wants to buy it, I’d suggest you sell.”

  Mackenzie suspected that her father would be relieved to have the ranch sold and forgotten—a painful memory eliminated. Her first instinct when her father suggested anything was to say no, but there was something about his prospect that did intrigue her—it was the best of both worlds. She could have horses in her life but still have the city, too. She missed her friends, nice restaurants and coffee shops that required more than a size when ordering.

  Half-caf, extra whip, double shot of hazelnut had been her order, and she missed that perfect first sip. The city hadn’t been misery. She’d had good times there, too.

  Sunday morning brunch had always been nice, and right about now she’d be willing to kill for a perfectly poached eggs Benedict. Then there had been the bookstores afterward, where she’d wander through and pick up some cards or a new novel to read...

  Hope was a cute little town, but she’d never be one of them, not truly, while Billings was the city she’d grown up in. It did make sense. Plus, there were buyers right now—something she couldn’t always take for granted.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said.

  “This could be really good for you, you know. When I heard about the stable, you were all I could think of.”

  “So how did you hear about it?” she interrupted.

  “Krissy’s aunt is the one selling it.”

  Of course. Those generous feelings for her father evaporated. Krissy was her father’s latest girlfriend. The woman who’d broken up her parents’ marriage hadn’t lasted the first year, but Krissy had seemed to hang on. She was only about ten years older than Mackenzie, and Mack had seen pictures of her posted on her father’s Facebook page with them sitting all relaxed on her father’s deck, Krissy’s pedicured feet in his lap. There were countless photos of them doing things together—hiking, eating brunch, cooking... Mackenzie had to admit that she resented their implied happiness. He should have tried harder to have that with her mother. If he’d put a little more effort into the family he had—maybe taken a few idealized photos of them once in a while—things might have turned out a lot differently. The fact that the stable was linked to Krissy’s family made the prospect a little less appealing, but once she owned it herself, Krissy’s family would be out of the picture. And who knew how long Krissy would last, anyway? With any luck, Krissy would get tired of dating someone old enough to be her father and take off with someone her own age. Spiteful as it was, Mackenzie thought her father could benefit from a little heartbreak. At least he could see how it felt to be dumped.

  “Uh, speaking of Krissy...” her father went on, his voice going up a little. He was tense or excited. She knew the sound in his voice—the sound he got when he bought a new car. “I have some news.”

  “Oh?” She tried to keep her tone uninterested, but her Spidey sense was tingling.

  “We’re getting married.” His voice glowed warm with satisfaction, and she sat in silence, processing the information. Seriously? Krissy was willing to marry him? Had he proposed? Had he done something embarrassing like get down on one knee in the middle of a restaurant, or put her ring in the bottom of a champagne flute?

  “Mackenzie?”

  “I’m here,” she said weakly. “When?”

  “We haven’t set a date yet, but Krissy doesn’t want to put it off too long.”

  “Well, congratulations.” She didn’t feel even remotely happy for him.

  “We want you to be there, of course,” he went on. “It wouldn’t be the same without you. Krissy was thinking maybe a destination wedding, and I’d be happy to foot the bill—”

  “I don’t need you to pay my way,” she said tersely.

  “You’re my little girl,” her father said. “I just wanted to do this for you, like a gift.”

  “I’m running a ranch now,” she said, and she didn’t mean to sound as cold as she did, rubbing in the inheritance all over again, but she was still processing this news of his engagement. “I can’t just take off on a vacation. I have cattle, goats, land... I can’t promise anything right now.”

  “I’m sure you can get someone to take over.” He sounded mildly incredulous. He’d grown up here after all, so he couldn’t be oblivious to the running of it. “I know this is probably a bit of a surprise, but—”

  “Dad, I have to go.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Congratulations to you and Krissy.”

  “Okay, okay...” He sighed. “What should I tell her aunt about the stable?”

  “Tell her I’ll think about it,” she said. “But I’ve got to go.”

  “Take care, Mackie. I love you.”

  She mumbled an “I love you” in return, then gratefully hung up the phone. Her first thoughts were for her mother, who hadn’t remarried. It hardly seemed fair that the one who’d done the cheating moved on first, but ten years wasn’t exactly a rebound, either. She should be happy for his happiness. That was the mature thing, wasn’t it? She shouldn’t hold his mistake against him forever. She knew these things, but it wasn’t so easy when it came to her emotions.

  Would she go to his wedding? Not if she could get out of it. While her father seemed eager to rebuild a relationship with her recently, she couldn’t forget about the years when she hadn’t seemed to matter to him at all. He’d been w
orking late—presumably with some girlfriend—and he’d missed a lot of her adolescence. Her mother had been the one to comfort her after her first breakup, to talk her through dating jitters, to help her fill out college applications and to listen to her teenage woes. Her mother had been there; her father had been off gallivanting, pretending that his wife and daughter didn’t exist. Back then, they’d thought he was working and they’d tried to be understanding. Now they knew differently, and she was having a hard time forgiving that. She had no intention of being duped again.

  So now her father’s life was shiny and new again, with a fiancée, an upcoming wedding and Facebook pictures of blissful couplehood. And she had no desire to stand smiling in the photos.

  * * *

  THAT EVENING, CHET sat at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee between his palms. His left shoulder ached from a wrench he’d received when a bull got testy with him earlier. He’d caught himself against the fence, but there had been something just off about the angle, because he’d felt the burn in his shoulder before the pain hit. That would take a bit of healing. He reached up and massaged the area, grimacing slightly against the pain.

  This was the job around here—it required a hard body and a sharp mind. If either started to slip, you’d better hope it was the body that went first, in his humble opinion. When you were being sized up by a one-ton bull, your brawn wasn’t much of a match. Unfortunately, when this particular ton of beef had been sizing him up, his mind had been still half on Mackenzie.

  He’d gone over the conversation with her in his mind all afternoon, and the more he thought about it, the more frustrated he felt. He wanted to tell her the truth—that Andy had cheated on her and that he’d told his idiot little brother to do the right thing. But if he told her that, he’d be breaking a promise to her late grandmother, and Chet was a man who stood by his word. The promise she’d evoked from him had been no casual agreement. She’d been certain that if Mack knew the truth, it would set her up for trust issues for the rest of her life, and maybe the old lady had been right. Mack had felt abandoned by her father when he left the family for another woman, and if her first love had cheated on her, too, he could see how that could mess with someone’s mind. He was no expert on women, but he could sympathize, at least. But how long was he supposed to sit on this?