Count on a Cowboy

by Patricia Thayer

  The older man nodded. “Just so you know, I’m going to pay you back for everything.”

  “You will not. We both got taken by Aldrich. Besides, you invested more money than I did to begin with. We get the structure finished and rented out, we can pay the loan off.”

  “What’s the new timeline on completion?”

  “The outside, about three weeks. Inside, that depends on the crew.” He pointed to the two completed cabins where he and Brooke had been staying. “We can rent those two cabins immediately.”

  “So Coralee’s daughter is leaving?”

  Trent released a breath. Why was it so hard to say her name? “Brooke Harper.”

  “Yes. Is she leaving soon?”

  “When you were in Denver, you wanted her to stay. Now you can’t wait to have her gone. Why don’t you just talk to her and maybe it’ll resolve any misconceptions about why she came here?”

  Rory diverted his gaze. “You don’t understand. There are so many bad memories associated with her mother. She almost destroyed my marriage twice.”

  “Brooke wasn’t even born then.”

  “But she’s Coralee’s daughter.”

  “So is Laurel.”

  Rory took off his hat and ran a hand over his short gray hair. “Okay, but she’s here because of Coralee.”

  “The woman has Alzheimer’s. That much is true, because my PI, Cody Marsh, verified it.”

  “What did he find out about Brooke?”

  “I told you, nothing yet. Give it a few more days. And be happy to have your family here. Also the fact that Laurel didn’t marry Aldrich.”

  That got Rory to smile. “Damn, we did dodge a bullet on that one.”

  “So let Laurel talk with Brooke. After all, they are sisters. It’s important that they have some time together.”

  Rory studied him for a moment. “You still think about your brother, don’t you?”

  Trent still thought of Chris; the passing of the years hadn’t changed that. “Yeah, and coming back to the ranch makes it harder sometimes.”

  Rory sighed. “Twenty years is a long time to keep blaming yourself, son.”

  Trent’s chest tightened. “I only blame myself because Chris’s death was my fault, and I have to live with that fact.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Later that afternoon, after Laurel had left the cabin, Brooke called the care facility to talk with her mother. Erin cautioned her that Coralee had been having a bad few days.

  Brooke braced herself when her mother’s voice came over the line.

  “Why haven’t you called me?” Coralee demanded, skipping through any kind of greeting.

  “I have called, Mother. Yesterday. You were taking a nap.”

  “No one told me,” she said, irritated. “Well, did you see Laurel? Is she pretty? Is she asking about me?”

  Brooke shut her eyes, and rested her head on the sofa. “Yes, Mother, I finally met Laurel today. And she’s very pretty and she looks like you.”

  Her mother sighed. “Oh, I knew she would be pretty. So are you bringing her home today?”

  “Not today, Mother. Not yet.”

  “But you promised. You said you’d bring her. I need to see her.” Coralee’s agitation rose.

  “I said I’ll try,” Brooke soothed in a low, calming voice.

  “No! She has to come and see me. Why are you being hateful, Brooke? You’re just a hateful child! I want my daughter. I want Laurel now.”

  Heart pounding, Brooke felt the tears burning behind her eyelids. She started to speak when she heard Erin’s voice.

  “Brooke. I need to give Coralee her medication, then put her to bed. We’ll talk later.”

  “Thank you, Erin. Goodbye.”

  Brooke closed her phone and allowed the tears to flow freely. She knew Coralee was ill, that this disease was destroying her. Then why did her words hurt so much?

  All her life, Coralee had made Brooke feel she was never good enough...she was never smart enough...never pretty enough. She couldn’t blame that on the disease.

  Her thoughts turned to Laurel. Her twin. She’d enjoyed their talk earlier. She was nice, and didn’t seem to resent her coming here.

  So why hadn’t Brooke just shown her their birth certificates? Then she’d know that they were full sisters. Was she hoping that Laurel would feel a special connection between them? Maybe that was too much to ask after only one meeting.

  Brooke stood. She was more worried that Laurel wouldn’t go back to Las Vegas if she knew the whole truth about their mother. By just coming here, Brooke had already taken away Laurel’s mother, and replaced her with a second-rate lounge singer who had been an alcoholic. Not fair.

  And yes, Brooke was envious of the good life her sister had here with Rory. From what she’d seen and heard, her father adored Laurel. What would it be like to feel that kind of unconditional love?

  How could she ask her to share their father? Would Brooke even fit in here if the Quinns did ask her to stay? Now she was dreaming.

  Darn it, Coralee. Why did you have to do this? I’d lived without a father this long... A tear found its way down her cheek, then another. She absently wiped them away, hating that she let this get to her. That had been how she’d survived, by not letting things get to her.

  It would be best if she just walked away from everyone: her sister, father...and Trent. To stop dreaming about a life here, a life where she didn’t have to struggle to make a living, to stay in school, to keep searching for the elusive love in her mother’s eyes.

  She stood and struggled to suck air into her lungs. “No, don’t let it get to you.” She recited the familiar chant that kept her going. “Don’t let ’em see how much it hurts you.”

  She walked slowly through the cabin, doing some relaxing breathing exercises. She’d get through this, then go back to her life.

  There was a knock on the door, but she ignored it. She couldn’t see anyone now.

  The knock came again. “Brooke?”

  Trent.

  “I know you’re in there,” he called through the closed door.

  Oh, God. She couldn’t see him like this. She went to the door. “Trent, I don’t feel well.”

  “Brooke, we need to talk. I won’t take long. Please, open the door.”

  She was weak when it came to this man. She did as he asked and let him in.

  Trent crossed the threshold and wrapped her in a tight embrace. He was so relieved she was still here. Laurel had let it slip about seeing the packed suitcase.

  He pulled back and saw her puffy eyes. She’d been crying. “Are you okay?” He touched her cheek. “Did someone say something to you?”

  “If you’re talking about Rory, no, I haven’t seen him since last night...” She glanced away. “I just got off the phone with my mother. She’s having a rough day.”

  Trent hated seeing Brooke like this. He reached for her and wrapped his arms around her again. “Oh, babe, I wish I could make it better.” He rubbed her back and could feel her starting to relax.

  After a few minutes, Brooke pulled back, once again composed. “Why are you here?”

  Was she upset because he hadn’t come by earlier? “When I saw Laurel this morning, she said she was going to come by. I wanted to give you both some time. How was it between you two?”

  “She’s nice. She doesn’t seem angry that I’m here.”

  He couldn’t hide his smile. “I knew you’d like her.” His gaze moved over her face and the uncanny resemblance to Laurel. Their hair was a different shade of blond, but their eyes were about the same color and shape, and their jawlines were similar.

  Brooke stood and walked across the room to the window. “This has been a nice trip, Trent, but I realized after talking to Coralee today, I need to get back home.”

  Trent went to her. The last thing he wanted was for Brooke to leave, not yet. He wanted to at least figure out what this was between them. Then what? What would he do? He wasn’t sure. Brooke made him feel thin
gs for the first time in a long time.

  “I thought you said you were going to stay through the weekend? And there’s the roundup in two days.”

  She shrugged, but he caught the spark of excitement in those green eyes. “That was before I knew when the Quinns were returning. They’re home now. I’ve met Laurel, and now she knows the situation with our mother. She has to make the choice to come see her or not.”

  “What about Rory, and Diane?”

  She shook her head. “They don’t want to meet me. They hate my mother, and they think I’m just like her.” She tried to hide it, but he saw the hurt and pain in her eyes.

  “Then prove them wrong, Brooke,” he told her.

  She looked at him. “Seems that’s what I’ve been doing all my life. When do I stop paying for my mother’s sins?”

  * * *

  THAT EVENING, TRENT drove Brooke up to the Quinns’ home. Laurel had called two hours earlier with an invitation to supper.

  Brooke didn’t want to accept, but Trent had strongly encouraged her to go, saying he would be right beside her. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. She wasn’t so sure. As far as the Quinns knew, she wasn’t any blood to them. And she hadn’t decided if they were ever going to find out. She couldn’t take that chance.

  Trent helped her out of the truck. She smoothed the imaginary wrinkles from her long black skirt and straightened her large cable-knit sweater. She was also wearing her black low-heel boots.

  One of the few nice outfits she’d brought on the trip. Not that she had a closet full of clothes at home.

  She felt Trent’s hand engulf hers. “It’s going to be okay, Brooke. Relax.”

  She nodded, but her gut told her that this could be a lot worse than even dealing with Coralee’s rage. “I’ll try.”

  They walked up the back steps through the mudroom and into the kitchen. Brooke was familiar with this room, since she and Trent had had a meal here the day she arrived.

  Trent called out a greeting and Laurel appeared in the doorway. “Oh, good, you made it.” She hugged Trent first, then Brooke. “I’m glad you’re here. My parents are nice people. It’s just this is a shock for them, and not long after the other shock of my cancelled wedding.”

  Brooke nodded. “I don’t mean to add more. That’s the reason I shouldn’t have come.”

  Laurel tugged on her arm. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re my sister now, and if there’s any chance of us having a relationship, we all need to get along.”

  Trent added. “She’s right, Brooke. She’s a package deal.”

  Laurel began to laugh, and Brooke couldn’t help smiling, too.

  Laurel punched Trent in the arm playfully. “Good analogy, soldier boy.”

  “Hey, don’t disrespect me. That’s sergeant major to you, missy.”

  Laurel wrinkled her nose. “Don’t call me that.”

  Although Brooke loved their banter, she also envied how these two got along. Obviously they were longtime friends.

  “Say, when are we going to eat?”

  “Come on in,” Laurel encouraged. “Just follow the spicy scent of Mom’s Mexican casserole.”

  Brooke felt her anxiety return when they walked through the kitchen and into the dining room where a large table was set for five.

  She heard voices then a small dark-haired woman turned around. Behind her was a tall slender man. Her breath caught as her gaze moved over him. His auburn hair was streaked with gray, but still thick and wavy. His rosy complexion had tiny lines around those green eyes that mirrored hers. Oh, God. He was her father.

  Trent was the first to speak. “Diane and Rory, I’d like you to meet Brooke Harper. Brooke, Diane and Rory.”

  Brooke spoke first. “Thank you for having me to your home and allowing me to stay in your cabin.”

  The couple nodded, then Rory’s gaze went to her, then to his daughter. His eyes grew large. “You do look like Laurel. What about your father—”

  “Rory,” Trent began. “That doesn’t matter. She’s here for Laurel.”

  Brooke took a step closer and raised her chin. “To answer your question, Mr. Quinn, I honestly don’t know my father.” That was the truth. She didn’t know this man.

  He glanced away and his wife took over. “Why don’t we sit down? Laurel, come help me bring over the food from the sideboard.”

  Brooke said, “I could help, too.”

  Not overly friendly, Diane shook her head. “No, you’re a guest. This will only take a minute.” Laurel shrugged and followed her mother.

  Heart pounding, Brooke turned around, but stayed close to Trent. He was her lifeline.

  “How long will you be staying in Colorado?”

  Don’t act hurt. “Now that I was able to contact Laurel, I can leave tomorrow—”

  “Brooke’s not going anywhere yet,” Trent said. “I talked her into staying through the roundup.”

  Laurel came to the table, carrying a big dish. “And I’m going to teach her how to ride.”

  “Hey, I taught her already,” Trent added as he relieved Diane of her burden, a big bowl of beans and some warm tortillas. He placed them on the table and escorted Brooke to her seat.

  “Here, you sit next to me.” He pulled out her chair for her, then sat down beside her. He reached for her hand under the table and whispered, “You’re doing fine.”

  She let out a soft breath. “Thank you.” She looked at Rory at the head of the table. Diane was on his right and Laurel was beside her mother and across from Brooke.

  After a simple blessing, they had a quiet dinner, but Brooke couldn’t seem to stir up an appetite as she listened to the men talk about the roundup. They’d planned to combine both ranches’ branding and inoculating the calves. Also, they discussed the timeline for the cabins so they could begin to advertise.

  Trent turned the attention to Brooke. “You didn’t know, but Brooke has just received her degree in hotel management. She has some suggestions for the hunting lodge. Ideas on who to advertise to and what to add to our website.”

  Brooke could see Rory’s anger, but he managed to control it and said, “I don’t think Brooke needs to concern herself with our website. After all, she’ll be returning to Las Vegas in a few days.”

  A sudden ache squeezed her heart. Rory Quinn wanted her gone. Even though he didn’t know who she really was, it still hurt.

  Before Trent could defend her yet again, she touched his arm. “No, Trent. Mr. Quinn is right, he doesn’t need my input. This is his project, too.” She stood. “Thank you both for dinner.” She worked hard to smile at Laurel. “It was great meeting you, Laurel, but I think it’s best I leave.” She glanced at Trent. “Trent, you stay, please. I’m not feeling like company.”

  She stood and walked out of the room. If anything, her mother had taught her how to make an exit. Once outside in the fresh air, she felt her resolve shatter. She hated that Coralee had sent her to this place, and for what? To take the blame for something that happened all those years ago. She had no part in it.

  She started down the driveway, but stopped on hearing her name called. She turned and saw Laurel coming after her.

  “Hey, I don’t blame you for leaving,” her sister said. “I’ve never seen my parents act like that, and Trent is letting Dad know that he didn’t like what happened. But please, Brooke, don’t leave the ranch. I know you have to get back, but I’m only asking for a few days. I want to get to know you. We’re sisters. And I’m hoping not just because you want me to meet Coralee, but because you want us to have a relationship, too.”

  Brooke was touched. “I would like that very much.”

  Laurel beamed. “How about we start with a slumber party? Your cabin, say in an hour?”

  Brooke’s heart was about ready to burst. “Can you get your hands on some popcorn? I’m suddenly hungry.”

  * * *

  AROUND TEN O’CLOCK, Trent was at his house, nursing his second beer since he’d left Brooke in Laurel’s care at the
cabin. And he’d been left out cold and alone.

  Any way you looked at it, tonight’s dinner had been a disaster. No way could he talk Rory and Diane into accepting Brooke. Question was how far would the couple go in persuading Laurel not to see Coralee? So where did that leave Brooke? Back in Las Vegas, and he’d be here. Alone. In this house.

  He took a long pull on his beer. Why did it matter? He’d been alone since he was thirteen when Chris died. Twenty years. He closed his eyes and his chest squeezed so tight he had trouble drawing his next breath. He still missed his little brother. He missed the happy family that used to live in this house, too.

  For years, he’d fought wars and terrorists all over the world, seen comrades die, even in his arms. But when he’d come home, he was brought to his knees seeing his young brother’s grave. Nothing he’d done helped erase the guilt he’d felt for leaving Chris behind all those years ago.

  Suddenly his phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket and saw Brooke’s name. “Brooke?”

  “No, silly, it’s Laurel.” She giggled. “You hunk a hunk of burning love.”

  Someone had been drinking. “Laurel? What are you two doing?”

  “I’m getting to know my little sister. Thank you for keeping her here so I could meet her.” She giggled again. “Can you believe it, I have a sister.”

  “Yeah, I can believe it.” He smiled. “Where’s Brooke?”

  “She’s in the bathroom. But we’ve been comparing notes about the men in our lives. My guy, that SOB, I really ragged on, but you, soldier boy, are one of the good guys. And guess what, I think Brooke really likes you, too. Oh, God, did that just sound like high school?”

  Before Trent could answer, he heard another voice, then Brooke came on the phone. “Trent, I can’t believe Laurel called you.”

  “Better me than someone else. Are you two okay?”

  There was a long pause, then Brooke said, “We’ve had a few glasses of wine, but we’re fine.”

  “Good.” He hesitated, not wanting to hang up. “I miss you.”