Her Stubborn Cowboy

by Patricia Johns

  “Sit,” she commanded, and Chet gave her a pained smile.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She thrust the cloth under the cold water, then turned off the tap and squeezed it out. Not so long ago, she was the one being ordered around the kitchen for her blisters, and it felt good to be the one giving the commands for a change. She pulled another chair up to the cabinet so she could reach the first-aid kit, and when she got back down, she found Chet waiting for her, seated complacently with his big hands folded loosely in his lap. She put the first-aid kit onto the table beside her, and she took his face in her hands, examining the worst of the bruising.

  “You’re not going to be pretty tomorrow,” she said.

  “I wasn’t pretty before,” he said with a low laugh. “Go on. Do your worst on me.”

  Mackenzie began to gently dab and wipe away the dust and dried blood. He looked sadder than she’d ever seen him, and despite his size, he seemed somewhat deflated. This wasn’t the Chet she knew.

  “You could have hurt him worse than you did,” she said.

  “Yep.”

  “It’s good you didn’t.”

  Andy hadn’t been a fair match for Chet, and at least Chet hadn’t taken full advantage of that. He didn’t say anything else, but that sadness remained. Those gray eyes were charcoal, and he flinched, pulling away as her cloth touched the bruising by his mouth.

  “You two will make up,” she said after a moment of silent work.

  “Yeah?” Chet looked up at her, then back down. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Brothers fight,” she said.

  Chet didn’t answer, and she knew it went deeper than that. From what they’d said to each other, she could see that their issues were much more deeply rooted than she’d ever realized, but when it came down to the line, Andy was there pleading his brother’s cause. He wanted his brother to have his dream fulfilled, too. That was a loyalty not to be discounted.

  “What did he want to talk to you about?” Chet asked after a moment.

  Mackenzie sighed. “He asked me to sell my land to you.”

  The words hurt as they came out, because they had been confirmation of her suspicions all along.

  “He what?” Chet caught her hand as she moved to wipe his face once more, and those darkened eyes met hers. “What did he say, exactly?” His voice was soft, but she could sense the urgency behind the words.

  “He said he didn’t want to leave you in the lurch and he was running out of time to sign if he was going to sell. So he wanted to know if I’d sell my land to you so that you could keep the ranch.”

  “That didn’t come from me,” he growled. “I didn’t ask to buy you out.”

  “But it makes sense.” She couldn’t help the tremble in her voice.

  Chet released her hand. He let out a long breath as if he’d been holding it. Mackenzie put down the cloth and reached for some ointment in the first-aid kit. As she came toward him again, he put his warm hands on her waist and tugged her forward between his knees. His gaze was locked on her, and with one hand he took the ointment out of her fingers and deposited it onto the tabletop next to them.

  “Chet—” she began, but she ran out of breath and out of words. She stood just taller than he was when he was seated, and he reached up and put his rough hand under her chin, tugging her face gently down toward his. He was a large man, and while the last time he’d kissed her he’d taken control, this time he waited for her to come to him.

  “Chet, I—” she started again.

  “Come here.”

  There was a gruff command in his voice, and this time she didn’t want to defy it. When her lips touched his, he pulled her into the kiss and then down onto his lap. He slipped his arms around her slender waist, his mouth on hers. Her heart pounded, and she slid her hands up his hard muscular arms, stopping at his chest, where she pushed against him, pushing him back. His gray eyes had turned flinty black, and he looked ready to pull her back in if she didn’t stand her ground.

  “You’ve got to stop doing this to me,” she whispered.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because I’m tired of having my heart put through the wringer with you Grangers,” she said, and as the words came out, she felt tears rising up. Chet noticed the change in her, and he stared, leaning back.

  “I’m not going to put you through the wringer,” he said. He let go of her waist. “What did you think, that I’m here for your land? You should know me better than that by now. I don’t want your land. What’s more, I wouldn’t buy it if you begged me.”

  She stood up, not wanting to stay quite so close—not like this. It was harder to form words when she could feel the very beat of his heart reverberating through his chest.

  “He told me about the other girl,” she said after a moment.

  “Really?” Chet’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m glad he did. Did he also tell you that I was telling him to choose between you, not to dump you?”

  “He mentioned that,” she said with a small smile.

  “Helen was afraid that it would make it harder for you if you knew—considering your parents’ situation at the time. She made me swear that I’d keep my mouth shut.”

  Mackenzie nodded. Such good intentions could be so incredibly frustrating.

  “Mack—” he reached for her hand “—I would never do that to you. You know that, right? You can trust me.”

  Could she? It wasn’t about Chet’s fidelity or even about the land right now. This went deeper, to the thing that made Chet’s heart beat—family. She might be able to trust Chet’s good intentions, but he had no control over the impulses that drove him. He might not cheat, but there were other ways to lose a man.

  “It can’t work,” she whispered.

  “Why not?” He dropped her hand and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “If you and I started something between us—” Mackenzie swallowed, not even trusting herself with those words. She started again. “Chet, your brother told you how he felt about me.”

  “I love you more,” he said simply.

  Mackenzie blinked as she processed the words, and looking at the big cowboy with the sad eyes, she knew without a doubt that she loved him, too. But was love enough without family?

  “He would never speak to you again,” she said softly.

  Sadness flitted across those rugged features, and he nodded slowly. “Possibly.”

  “And you could live with that?” she asked. “You’ll have lost your father and your ranch, and you’re willing to walk away from a relationship with your brother, too?”

  “What would you have me do?” Chet demanded, anger sparking in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m losing a lot. Am I supposed to lose you, too?”

  The thing was, Mackenzie didn’t believe that Chet had to lose his brother. They were both angry, but Andy wasn’t a complete jerk. He loved Chet, too, and right now they weren’t just fighting over land; they were fighting over family history, childhood grievances and her. Andy would see a relationship as the last betrayal.

  “I know you, Chet,” she said, a lump in her throat. “And you can’t live happily without your brother in your life.”

  “I’ve managed it the past year.” Chet pushed to his feet and walked to her kitchen window, looking out into the night.

  “You’re lying to yourself,” she retorted, shaking her head. “And if you and I start something, then Andy will walk away for good. You’ll never see him again. Your dad isn’t here to referee. No one is forced back to the dinner table together anymore—we’re all grownups. That kind of thing turns into resentment, and you’ll end up resenting me, too, because I’ll be the reason for it all. You’ll always regret this. Always.”

  Chet turned from the window and moved toward her. He stopped inches from her body, and he slowly ran his rough hands down her arms.

  “Do you feel what I’m feeling?” His voice was low and soft, tempting and, oh, so inviting. “I’m in love with you. I think about you c
onstantly. I’m not willing to hold back for Andy, or for anyone. I love you...”

  If she told him no, then maybe he’d give it up and go back to sort things out with his family, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell the lie. Denying her feelings would hurt more than declaring them.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I do.”

  “Then what’s stopping us?”

  There were too many things standing between them, and while in this moment they both wanted to fall into the comfort of each other’s arms, what about a year from now? What about another decade from now?

  “Chet, I watched my father tear my family apart,” she said, her voice shaky with emotion. “He did it for love—not one that lasted, might I add. But I hated that woman for tearing apart my home. My mother never really recovered. She’s still broken from it, and I still feel sad for what we lost. I swore that I’d never be the one to tear apart someone’s family—”

  “You’re no homewrecker, Mack,” Chet said incredulously.

  “Maybe not in the traditional sense,” she agreed, “but if I give in to my heart, then it will end something that you need in order to be happy. You’re a Granger, Chet. I don’t care what your brother said about the land—your family means the world to you, and if you and I start something and Andy walks away for good, you’ll regret this. You’ll resent me. I can’t do that to you.”

  “This is Andy’s choice,” Chet said, his voice thick. “Not mine.”

  “Maybe so,” she agreed. “But no matter how angry you both are right now, you haven’t passed the point of no return. You’re still the Granger boys. You can recover from this. Brothers have tussled before.”

  Mackenzie picked up the ointment and put a dab on her finger. She gently touched the scrapes around his cheekbone with the medication. He allowed her to finish the job, and when she’d screwed the cap back onto the tube, she said, “Chet, I’ll sell you my land.”

  Chet stared at her in disbelief. “No.” His voice turned rough.

  “What do you mean, no?” she asked. “I’m serious. Andy will sell your pasture—in fact, I think that’s probably a guarantee now that you’ve beaten him up—and you can buy Granny’s ranch from me. You’ll have more than enough space. You’ll even be able to expand a little.”

  “I’m not buying your ranch,” he growled. “You wanted to run this place, and you should do that. I’ll figure something out.”

  “I can’t!” She shook her head, tears finally pricking her eyes. “Aren’t you listening to me, Chet? I can’t work next to you every day. I can’t watch you move on with someone else!”

  “Then don’t!” he retorted. “Follow your heart!”

  “Hearts break up families!” She could feel her tears wetting her cheeks as she searched his face for some sign that he understood what she was trying to tell him. “I can’t be the one who stole your last chance with your brother.”

  “So you’re decided?”

  “Yes.” Her emotions choked off the word.

  Chet bent and pressed his lips hard against her forehead. He stayed there for a moment, as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull away, but then he strode to the door.

  “If you don’t want me, that’s okay,” he said, and his voice trembled, betraying the depth of his feeling. “But I’m not buying your land, Mack, and that’s final.”

  Chet pulled open the door and stepped outside without another backward glance. As the door shut behind him, Mackenzie sank down into a kitchen chair. The tears started to flow in earnest now, and her shoulders shook under the sobs that overtook her.

  She’d never wanted to say yes so desperately in all her life, but as much as this hurt now, it would hurt even more if she faced Chet’s angry, pained gaze once he’d realized that he’d lost his family for her. That was something she could never live with.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning after chores, Chet sat in his uncle’s kitchen. Bob and Lydia Granger lived about fifteen miles away. The kitchen was old-fashioned, with a Formica countertop having been scrubbed so often that it had bare patches in the center of each stretch of countertop. It was polished to a clean shine, though, and everything smelled ever so faintly of bleach. Morning sunlight came in through the window, and the open back door let in a fresh breeze. It would have been a perfect morning for a coffee and a chat if Chet hadn’t felt as if he’d been gutted.

  Chet’s phone lay on the kitchen table in front of him. It was turned on, an email glowing on the screen.

  Hey, Chet. I’ve sold my land to the developer. He wants to buy yours, too, if you’re interested. It’s a done deal. I’m heading home to Billings.

  Andy

  Such a short email to convey such a heavy message, and Chet sat there next to a half-filled mug of coffee feeling empty of emotion. It wasn’t only this email that had scraped him out, though; it was how he’d left things with Mackenzie last night. His brother’s email had just confirmed what he’d already known was coming.

  He knew his ranch like the back of his hand, from the walk down to the barn to the ride to the summer pasture. He knew the lines of fence, the one stretch that needed mending every fall like clockwork, when every other line of fence stood up to the weather without problem. The rise and dip of the land, which looked so flat from a distance but wasn’t flat in the least when you were riding across it—always either cresting a hill or thundering down the other side. He knew every copse, every stream, every dip and gully. The thought of tractors tearing through it, leveling it out and making muddy roads into it—that was painful. At the very least, his great-grandparents graves were on his property and not the pasture that his brother had just sold out from under him.

  His aunt Lydia, a rotund woman with curly, graying hair, tutted her tongue softly from where she stood across the kitchen, her arms crossed over her chest. Beside her, a large tub of freshly picked strawberries sat ready for stemming. She would have picked them that morning before the heat of the day. His uncle Bob sat in the chair next to him, looking down at Chet’s phone with a grim expression on his face. His knobby hands lay on the tabletop, motionless.

  “Sold to the developer?” the older man muttered incredulously. “I told your father to leave the whole thing to you! I told him plain as day, and he said no, he couldn’t do that to the kid. He said that Andy was sensitive. But that was years ago, and he should have updated that will...”

  “Can’t you talk to him?” Lydia asked. “He’s your brother, after all—”

  “It’s done, Lydia,” Bob said gruffly. “Once there’s a signature, it’s done. There’s no talking Andy out of anything.”

  “That young fool...” his aunt breathed.

  Chet had nothing to say to that. His uncle and aunt had gone over this information a few times already, trying to make some peace with the fact that the Granger monopoly of land was about to be split up by some developer.

  “Are you going to sell, too?” Bob asked suddenly.

  “No,” Chet said. “I’ll die on that land before I sell it.”

  “Same here,” Bob replied. “I’ve got about thirty acres of scrub I could let you graze on. It’s not enough, but it’s something.”

  “Thanks,” Chet said hollowly. Thirty acres was not enough, but the gesture was a kind one. He’d have to figure out something, but having that land intact and pristine as they’d always known it was officially a thing of the past. The future was going to look different, no matter what he did now.

  “So if Andy’s selling, there might be others,” Bob said. “Sometimes people you think would never budge are the first to jump at a fistful of money.”

  “And what about the girl?” Lydia asked. “Helen’s granddaughter. Is she going to sell?”

  “I’m not sure,” Chet said. “She offered to sell to me, though.”

  Bob straightened at that. “You could have started out with that little nugget, Chet,” he said. “Buy it. The property is adjacent, and it’s excellent land.”

  It was
excellent land. Helen’s property was ideal in every way, and he’d offered to buy from Helen several times in the past, except that Chet refused to buy it from Mackenzie. Mack wanted to work that land, and she could do it, too. He wasn’t going to be the one to take that away from her. It would be taking advantage of her emotional state, and one day he’d have to face God and he’d prefer not to have that one on his conscience. Besides, he was still hoping that she’d decide to stay.

  Chet shook his head. “Not a chance. I’m not buying her land.”

  “Why on earth not?” Lydia demanded. Her hands seemed to work independently of the rest of her, stems flicking steadily into a pile in the sink. “You’ve been offering to buy that land for years. It’s prime ranching land, Chet. You can’t do better.”

  Chet was exhausted from a night of lying awake, and he had no energy to try to hide his feelings.

  “Because I’m in love with her.”

  Lydia’s hands stopped moving, and Bob and Lydia exchanged a look, and then both trained their gazes on him.

  “I don’t see the problem there,” Lydia said after a second. “Then marry her.”

  Chet laughed bitterly. “If only it were so easy. She won’t be with me because she thinks it’ll drive a wedge between Andy and me.”

  “I think that wedge is pretty much driven,” Bob pointed out. “And what does Andy care?”

  “Andy thinks he’s in love with her, too,” Chet said.

  “What on earth?” Lydia cried. “Wasn’t he set to marry Ida?” She turned back toward the strawberries again. “No one said love was easy.”

  Bob sat in silence for a few moments, his eyes directed at his wife but his vision seemingly turned inward. Finally, he faced Chet and fixed him with a direct stare.

  “If I understand you right, you’ve come for advice,” Bob said.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Chet said.

  “You’ve had a big shock, kid,” Bob said. “If your dad were here, I’m sure he’d tell you the same thing. So it’s hard to see the way when you’ve had a blow like this. But here’s what you’re missing—you need to buy that land from Mackenzie.”