Counting on the Cowboy

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Counting on the Cowboy Page 9

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter


  “Valid point. Even at a dude ranch.” Chase tunneled his fingers through his short hair. “I guess I was distracted.”

  “We’ll figure it out.” Brock strode toward them. “I was just gonna work on it while I had time. But I’ll find something else to do.”

  “Actually, it’s a good time. The miniature horses need a pen instead of a stall in the barn.”

  “If you want it seen from the road, it could go on the other side of the drive.” Brock pointed to a tree-lined spot. “We could use that less dense area. Maybe take out three trees. Four, tops.”

  “We had an oak wilt scare year before last, thought we might lose our trees. Neither of us can stand to think of cutting them down.”

  “What about back a ways, so no trees need to be cut? That would still make it visible, put it a good fifty yards from the chapel and downwind.”

  “I don’t know how the work order got so messed up. I never wanted the petting zoo anywhere near the chapel. And I never said it had to be visible from the road.” Chase frowned. “We can put a sign up for drive-by traffic. I thought it would be best if we put it near the barn.”

  “That’s the logical location.” Brock frowned. “I thought having it by the chapel was odd.”

  Devree had never known Chase to be that distracted. But with everything going on, she wouldn’t be surprised if it hadn’t been Chase at all who had filled out that work order. Had someone forged his signature?

  “Sorry for the confusion, Brock.” Chase blew out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what we’d have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

  “Devree’s the one who questioned it.” His mouth twitched.

  “Let me get some things packed, then I’ll head to the barn and show you where I want it.”

  “Sure.”

  Chase strode to the ranch house.

  “Poor guy.” Devree hugged herself. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “I wish I could shoulder some of that stress for him. But I’ve got more bad news.” He turned to face her, dug a sheet of paper from his pocket. “I don’t think this is Chase’s signature.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Maybe we’ve been looking at this all wrong. Maybe it’s you they want to sabotage.”

  “Me?” A chill moved over her heated skin.

  “Do you have any enemies? Any ex-boyfriends with an ax to grind? Any wedding planners trying to steal your business?”

  “No. Nothing like that. I dated a guy a while back, but he ended the relationship.” All on his own when he’d almost married her client. “Dallas is big enough to support countless wedding planners quite well. And besides that, this was supposed to be my last wedding.”

  “Event planners, then? Maybe another planner doesn’t want you in the field.”

  “I don’t think so. Like I said, Dallas is big enough for all of us. I know Chase has faith in the other dude ranch owners, but I’m beginning to wonder.” She vaguely remembered them being in a price war with another guest ranch when Landry had first come to Bandera. “He said others had underpriced him in the past.”

  “Maybe we need to check into that. Or ask around and see if any of the other ranches are struggling.”

  “I wish he’d call the police and let them figure this out.”

  “Part of me wants to keep this under our hats. Not stress him even more.”

  “He needs to know what’s going on.” And he’d be furious if he ever found out they tried to protect him by keeping things from him.

  “I don’t think it would hurt anything if I wait until tomorrow to tell him.”

  “Agreed. He’s got enough on his plate today.”

  Brock was just as invested in Landry and Chase as she was. Softening the walls of her heart toward him.

  And there was that extremely handsome thing he had going on. But that didn’t mean she should let her guard down. He was still male. And she needed to run the other way.

  Chapter Eight

  The late afternoon sun beat down on Brock’s back as he dug the last hole. Finished, he leaned on the diggers, wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hand.

  A little girl rushed his way from the ranch house with a woman lagging behind. As the child neared, he realized it was Ruby. And Scarlet.

  “I can’t wait for the petting zoo to open.” Ruby darted right toward the hole he’d just dug.

  “Easy.” He grabbed her shoulders, gently stopping her in her tracks. “Watch for holes. They’re as deep as you are.”

  Ruby looked down the hole, then up at him. “I’m not deep. I’m tall.”

  “I’m sorry.” Scarlet stopped a few feet away. “Since Dad told her about the petting zoo, it’s all she can think about.”

  “Well, it is exciting,” he whispered conspiratorially. “I heard tell there’ll be pygmy goats, sheep and miniature horses.”

  “Miniature horses?”

  “They’re about yea big, including their noggins.” He held his hand less than three feet from the ground.

  “Like a big dog?” Ruby’s eyes grew wide.

  “Exactly. Only they’re horses.”

  “Do people ride them?”

  “Kids can. And they can pull a small wagon. But they’re mostly just for pets.”

  “When will they get here?”

  “Don’t tell anybody, but they’re already in the barn.”

  Ruby whirled toward her mom. “Can we go see, Mommy?”

  “We don’t want to get Mr. McBride behind on his work.”

  “Pfft.” Ruby giggled. “You mean Uncle Brock.”

  Scarlet’s eyes grew huge. “Ruby!”

  “It’s okay. She broke the news the second day I was here.” He was getting kind of used to the confusion in his world.

  “She did? I’m so sorry.”

  “No worries. And as far as my work, the petting zoo isn’t a priority. The cabin I was working on got skunked, so I couldn’t work there today.”

  “Tell me about it. My client just had to pick today to see a house, so Ruby had to come to Stinky Ville after school.” She pinched her nose.

  “You’re in real estate?”

  “I am. When I have showings outside of school hours, Ruby ends up here.”

  “So what about seeing the mini horses?” Ruby begged.

  “If you’re sure you can spare the time.”

  “This way.” He led them toward the barn.

  Ruby dashed ahead.

  “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have told her who you were. I was just so excited when Dad and Becca told me you were here. I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time.”

  And he’d only learned she existed less than a week ago. “Why?”

  “Becca talked about you a lot over the years.” She settled her hand in the crook of his elbow, as if they were old friends. “My mom died when I was young and Becca came into our lives when I really needed her during those awkward teen years. I always wished I had a sibling, so when she told us about you, you became my fantasy brother.” She let out a sheepish laugh. “It sounds silly now.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “You haven’t. I mean—I don’t even know you. But I’d like to. Have you thought about that dinner I mentioned?”

  “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

  “Look, I know this whole step-kin thing is a lot for you to digest. But Becca has been such a blessing in our lives. Such a wonderful influence on me and my daughter. Drew’s mom died a few years into our marriage. So if not for Becca, Ruby wouldn’t have a grandma.”

  The sincerity in her tone tugged at him.

  “I’ll think about it.” If Mom told them the truth. He couldn’t stomach sitting through a family gathering and tiptoeing around the secrets of his childhood.


  “Fair enough.” Scarlet looked toward the barn. “Wait up, Ruby. Don’t you dare open any of the pens.”

  “I won’t, Mommy. But hurry.”

  They reached the barn and stepped inside the wide galley between the stalls.

  “They’re over here.” He led the way to the fourth stall where Sweetpea and Peanut were munching on hay, then helped Ruby climb up on the slatted wood gate so she could see.

  The pint-size sisters looked up from beneath their pouf of bang-like manes resting across their foreheads. With pale golden coats and wooly cream-colored manes and tails, they were maybe two and half feet tall.

  “They’re so cute.” Ruby’s gaze fastened on the duo.

  “Adorable.” Scarlet leaned her elbows on the railing. “Thanks for letting us see. Come on, Ruby. Brock needs to get back to work.”

  “But I want to pet them.”

  “You’ll get to another time. We need to get supper before Bible study tonight.” She helped Ruby down, then turned to Brock. “Think about that supper. The invitation’s open whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thanks.” He watched them go.

  As far as stepsisters went, Scarlet wouldn’t be a bad one. But his mom was another story. How could the same woman abandon her child, then end up being a great mom to someone else’s teenager?

  * * *

  Sleeping with a dust mask on last night hadn’t been fun for Devree, but at least the skunk smell was waning this morning. Landry and Chase were home and the guests were happy. The petting zoo was well underway and not anywhere near the chapel. It was late afternoon and honeymoon cottage A was almost complete.

  Brock hung a shelf made from plantation shutters. “How’s that?”

  “Perfect. That’s it. Can I help you with anything?”

  “I just have the final chandelier in the bedroom to hang.”

  “I can hold tools or the flashlight for you.”

  “If you don’t mind. And don’t have anything else to do.”

  “After all the curtain rods and pictures you’ve hung for me, it’s the least I can do.” She headed to the bedroom with his booted footfalls behind her.

  Brock handed her a flashlight, fiddled in the breaker box and the room went dark.

  It took her eyes a minute to adjust as she moved to the curtain, tucked it in the tieback. The huge live oak outside the window shaded the area but allowed some sunlight in.

  “Is it okay if we stand on the bed?” He sat on the king-size mattress and pulled one boot off, then the other.

  “Sure.” She sat beside him, kicked off her heels, then pulled her feet up.

  He stood, offered his hand, helped her up.

  This felt too close in the darkened room. She took a step back.

  “The chandelier and tools are on the nightstand.”

  “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

  “I must say, I like this fixture.” He dug a screwdriver out of his pocket, went to work loosening the cover plate on the antler chandelier with her shining the flashlight for him.

  “I compromised on the curtains. And this one will go in Chase’s office at the new house.”

  The cover plate came loose and Brock touched his rubber-handled pliers to the wires. Nothing. Next, he cut the wire in two and handed her the chandelier. “Got it?”

  “Yep.” She carried it to the empty nightstand, a bit wobbly, walking on a mattress with the heavy fixture. But then she stepped too close to the edge, and almost lost her balance. “Whoa.”

  Strong arms came around her waist from behind. “Easy.”

  Goodness, he smelled good. And felt good. Muscled and sturdy. Protective.

  “You okay?”

  Not really. But all she did was nod.

  His arms slipped away and he took the fixture from her. “Sorry about that. It is heavy.”

  He set it down on the nightstand, then walked across the width of the bed and picked up the new chandelier.

  She forced herself to concentrate on the light fixture. Weathered white metal with blue mason jars surrounding each teardrop-shaped bulb and matching crystals underneath each light. The perfect accent for the room.

  But she’d rather concentrate on the cowboy.

  “Can you hold this one while I attach the wire? It’s not as heavy.” As she took it from him, their fingers grazed and her breath caught. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice and went to work on the wiring as he held the flashlight.

  Several turns with his pliers later, he dug orange connectors from his pocket and screwed them into place, then wrapped black tape around the wiring. He fished several screws and a driver from his pocket and reached for the chandelier.

  She handed it to him, managing not to touch him this time.

  He attached the cover plate and let the fixture hang, then helped her down and went to the switch box. Light flooded the room. “How’s that?”

  “Perfect.”

  “I believe honeymoon cottage A is ready for the happy couple.”

  “What a relief. Now just some fresh towels and we’re set. Which reminds me, I meant to put the clean towels I brought over in the dryer.” She hurried to the living room, grabbed the laundry basket full of wet terrycloth.

  “Let me get that.” His hands closed over hers and he whisked the basket away, leaving her struggling for air as she followed him to the utility closet by the bathroom.

  He opened the dryer, dumped the towels in and started it.

  “I meant to have them drying while I worked, then fold them before I left. Guess I’ll come back later.” She headed for the front door, eager to lose him. So she could breathe right. “Since the cabin is finished and it’s Thursday, I’ll be busy decorating the wedding chapel the rest of the day and preparing for the wedding party’s arrival and rehearsal tomorrow.”

  “And I’ll be busy finishing up Chase and Landry’s house.”

  So they probably wouldn’t see each other much until next week. Why did that bother her?

  “Do you smell that?”

  She sniffed the air. A hint of something...unpleasant. “What is it?”

  “Dead animal.”

  “Oh, no. You didn’t put any rat poison out, did you?”

  “No.” He walked around the room, sniffing, then down the hall, stopping at the dryer. “It’s coming from here.” He opened the door, interrupting the tumbling towels.

  The odor permeated the room. She pinched her nose between finger and thumb. “Oh, that’s worse than the skunk. Is it the towels?”

  “No. It’s under the cabin. Probably coming up through the dryer vent. We may have found Pepé Le Pew.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Relax. It’s a good thing. If we get rid of him, he won’t smell anymore. And the wedding is still two days away. I’ll crawl under and see what I can find, but you’ll probably have to rewash those towels.”

  “Want me to hold the light?” Though she really didn’t want to. She longed to run to the ranch house where the air was breathable.

  He chuckled. “You go on. This will get dirty. I’ll set up a floodlight.”

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She laughed.

  But why was walking away from him so hard? Even with a dead skunk in the mix.

  * * *

  The crawl space was wide open. Only human hands could unlatch it. Why hadn’t he thought to check it before now? Brock shone his light under the cabin. Not his idea of fun—crawling in tight spaces where rattlesnakes might hole up to get away from the heat.

  He hurried to the tool shed, grabbed a floodlight and thick work gloves, then returned to the cabin. With the floodlight set up just inside the crawl space, he could see the dryer vent, then scanned the area for any slithering reptiles. Nothing seemed amiss. He lay down on his belly, wiggled his shoulders through the opening and
dragged himself along on his elbows, shining the flashlight in front of him.

  A good fifteen feet later, he made it to the dryer vent, shone his light around. The stench was horrendous, but no body. Could it be in the vent? He touched the silver accordion tubing. Heavy, like there was something in it. He took in a deep breath, held it, and reached into the vent, grabbed whatever it was by the tail and tugged.

  Pepé Le Pew was in his hand. Dead and stinky. He gagged, sucked in another breath, turned and crawled back to the opening fast. Less concerned about snakes with the stench flooding his airways. Near the hole, he threw the skunk out, then crawled out like a drowning man.

  Outside, he grabbed the dead animal, obviously roadkill, bolted for the woods and threw it as far as he could. Well out of range of any guests.

  “Not in my job description.” He jerked the gloves off, dumped them in a trash bag and tied it up. With the air fresher, he retrieved the floodlight, latched the crawlspace and headed for his quarters. Never had he wanted a shower so badly.

  Movement on the back porch of the ranch house drew his attention. Devree swaying on the swing, her hand clamped over her mouth, as if she were trying not to laugh.

  “You thought that was funny?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen you move so fast.”

  “Glad you enjoyed the show. But we have a problem.”

  She sobered. “What?”

  “The crawl space was open. Someone opened it.”

  “You think someone planted the skunk? You mean, like saw it and shooed it under the cabin.”

  “No, I think they saw it freshly dead on the road or maybe even hit it with their vehicle, then brought it here and shoved it in the dryer vent. So it would stink up the only honeymoon cottage we have ready on the week of your big wedding.”

  “That sounds pretty desperate.” Maybe even unhinged. “But the skunk ran off guests. I still think that’s what the guilty party wants.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “But they may have gone too far this time. Whoever it is should be wearing the evidence. We initially smelled skunk. Whoever put it under there couldn’t have gotten away unscathed.”

  “Exactly. Fill Chase in while I shower. We’ll start with ranch employees, then move on to the other dude ranches in the area. Find out if anyone has been skunked lately.”

 

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