How to Wrangle a Cowboy

by Joanne Kennedy

  “No, I can see where that would be a surprise.”

  Lindsey spun from the mural, clenching her fists. “How could he, Adie? How could my grandfather ever cheat on Grace? They loved each other so much. Or I thought they did.” She slumped into the plastic chair and touched her forehead with her fingers, as if that could clear her thoughts. “The longer I live, the more I realize fairy tales don’t come true. But I thought sometimes, like for Bud and Grace…”

  Her voice trailed away in something very like a sob, but she swallowed it and went on. “When my ex-husband turned out to be a lying, cheating jerk, I still had faith that there were good men in the world because of my grandfather. I was so sorry he died before I could tell him what that meant to me.” Her tone turned bitter. “Maybe it’s just as well.”

  “We’re all human,” Adie said softly. “Maybe there was some explanation.”

  “How do you explain a child? A child. And he refused to claim him.” Lindsey gestured toward the letter. “Refused to support him, just so Grace wouldn’t know.”

  “I know it’s hard to process.” Adie leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. “But we need to focus on the practical repercussions. He wants a share of the ranch.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Lindsey shook her head. “I’d like to hate him, but I can’t even imagine how it would feel, knowing your father had millions and you and your mother had nothing.”

  “So you don’t question his claim.”

  Lindsey pictured the man she now knew to be William Ward, Bud’s illegitimate son, and shook her head. “No. I guess not.”

  “Okay.” Adie slipped on a pair of black-framed glasses that made her look infinitely more lawyerly. “Then we should probably count our blessings. If we don’t settle, he’ll probably take us to court, and that could end badly. What he’s asking for is actually fairly reasonable.”

  “Reasonable?” Lindsey hated the shrillness of her voice, but she couldn’t help herself. “Two hundred thousand dollars is reasonable?”

  “If he’s really your grandfather’s son, he could argue he’s entitled to the entire estate.” She paused. “In fact, I’d be very careful in the months to come, while things get straightened out. I get the impression William Ward is not a nice man.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Adie looked away and shrugged. “It’s just a feeling I have. Be careful, okay? Watch for anything strange around the place, and stay safe.”

  “Great.” Lindsey pictured the anti-Bud and realized Adie was right. He had a mean look about him, the look of a man who couldn’t be trusted.

  “We’ll want to get him taken care of as fast as possible,” Adie said.

  “I agree, but it’s going to take me a while to come up with the money.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry.” Adie dared to smile. “The place is amazing. It’ll sell fast.”

  Lindsey straightened in her chair. “I’m not selling.”

  “You’re planning to keep it?”

  “At least while Grace is alive. It’s her home.”

  Adie tapped a pencil on the table and frowned. “I thought you’d want to sell. It’s a lot to take on.” She brightened. “You can probably get a loan. The ranch is highly profitable, according to my dad.”

  Lindsey shook her head miserably. “I’m up to my elbows in debt. My ex pulled back the financing that started my vet clinic when I left him. I never would have taken on that kind of debt on my own, so it’s been a challenge to make the payments. I’ve managed to hang on, but I had to renegotiate with the bank twice. My credit’s right on the edge.”

  “Oh.” Adie’s flat, lifeless tone said it all. “Look, you’ve got to do something. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he says he’ll go to Grace and tell her the whole sordid story.”

  Lindsey couldn’t help flinching at the thought of the pain Grace would suffer if she knew Bud had cheated. She couldn’t let that happen.

  So this was the end. In one hour, she’d gone from veterinarian to heiress and back again. It was enough to make a woman dizzy.

  And sad—so sad for Grace.

  Oh, Grace.

  Her grandmother had given up a promising film career for Bud. His love had sustained her through the deaths of three children and the challenges of upending her lifestyle from one of excess and luxury to one of hard work and sacrifice. She’d believed their romance to be one of Hollywood’s greatest fairy tales, complete with a happy ending.

  But if Bud had cheated, the fairy tale was a sham. And Lindsey was sure her lively, loving grandmother would fade away into a shadow if she ever found out her beloved husband was anything less than the prince she’d believed him to be.

  She would never, ever let that happen. She didn’t care about being an heiress; she cared about Grace.

  This was one secret that had to be kept, no matter what the cost.

  Chapter 14

  Lindsey dipped a cookie into a glass of milk and held it there, counting softly to herself.

  One potato, two…

  She pulled out the cookie and bit into it. Perfect.

  “It’s funny how some things stay with you,” she said.

  Grace’s smile was knowing and playful. “Like still loving milk-and-cookie parties on the porch, the way you did when you were little?”

  Lindsey laughed. “Like still loving your homemade molasses cookies, and knowing exactly how long to dip them in milk to make them even more scrumptious.”

  It was the day after the reading of the will, and Lindsey was doing her best to relax on the white-painted swing while Grace half reclined on a wicker love seat. Together, they watched the sun retreat to its nightly hiding place behind the distant mountains.

  Lindsey finished off the first cookie, then dipped another, doing the same silent count. As she treasured one of the favorite flavors of her childhood, she scanned the pastures that surrounded the house—green-and-gold carpets broken by rock formations the elements had honed into strange shapes. Lindsey had named them as a child—the frog rock, the hippo rock, the ogre—and she’d been dreaming about them the night Bud died. They’d come to life, marching across the pasture. She’d been standing in the middle, and as they’d come closer and closer, she’d realized they were going to come together and crush her. She’d woken with a little scream.

  Hours later, the phone had rung, and she’d talked to her grandmother for the first time in years.

  Now she and Grace sat together on the porch as if nothing had changed. Milk and cookies had always been an all-girl event, so they missed Bud less keenly.

  But things had changed. The ranch belonged to Lindsey now, and her image of her grandfather had been shattered by the revelations of William Ward’s letter. She needed to control the conversation, or her grandmother was liable to start reminiscing about Bud and their fairy-tale love. Lindsey simply wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

  “I love this late-afternoon light,” she said.

  “Oh, I know.” Grace swept one hand toward the landscape. “Everything is golden. And look how sharp the edges are! You can see every leaf, every blade of grass.”

  “I’ve missed this. Somehow, the light doesn’t matter so much in the city.”

  “It only matters when it touches things you love.”

  Grace’s blue eyes drank in the landscape as if thirsty for its cool, eternal beauty. What would happen to her if the ranch was taken away? A part of her would wither and die. Maybe all of her.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  Lindsey started and realized she’d been staring at her grandmother, who was giving her a teasing smile.

  “Or is that five dollars now, with inflation and all?”

  “My thoughts aren’t worth a thing,” Lindsey said. “I’m still trying to figure out what Granddad was thinking when he left me this place.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. You used to have all sorts of plans, didn’t you?” There was that knowing smile again. “Maybe he meant for you to resurrect your
dreams.”

  Lindsey sighed. “I gave up on those a long time ago.” Noticing a quick, sharp look from her grandmother, she straightened. “Not gave up, really. I just charted a new course. It’s not dreams that get you where you want to go; it’s goals. Plans. Strategies.”

  Grace cocked her head, birdlike, and gave Lindsey a curious look. “Who told you that?”

  Lindsey looked down at her hands, twisting them in her lap. “Rodger.”

  “I figured. He took all the dreams out of you, didn’t he?”

  Lindsey paused, then nodded slowly.

  “Bud was afraid he’d do that.”

  “He was right.” She reached over and squeezed her grandmother’s hand. “I wish I could tell him. I wish I hadn’t waited so long.”

  “Don’t worry about that. He always knew you’d be back.” Grace smiled. “We talked about you all the time.”

  Lindsey set the porch swing to swaying with the toe of one bare foot. The two of them sipped in silence for a while before Grace reached over and stopped Lindsey’s swing.

  “What happened, dear?” Her gaze was fixed on Lindsey’s face, her eyes filled with compassion. “You don’t have to tell me. But you can if you want to.”

  Lindsey had always wanted to tell her grandmother about her marriage, especially during the dark nights after everything had gone wrong. Talking to Grace had always made everything right when she was a child. Surely it would have helped her navigate the treacherous slipstreams of adulthood too.

  But now, she pulled the words from her heart with reluctance. She wasn’t proud of the way she’d allowed herself to be seduced into a life that didn’t fit her, by a man who wasn’t worthy of a Ward.

  “Rodger was everything Granddad said he was.”

  “Goodness.” Grace’s tone was light. “That bad?”

  Lindsey nodded, blinking back tears. “All he cared about was money and image and status,” she said. “He helped me start up the clinic—financially, I mean—but then he didn’t want me to work there. He said I was the queen bee, not a drone.” She sighed. “He didn’t understand that it was the work I loved—the patients, not the money.” She tilted her chin a touch higher. “Now that we’re finally divorced, I want to prove I can succeed on my own, that I’m worth something all by myself.”

  “So succeeding would make you worth something?”

  “Of course.”

  “To whom?”

  Lindsey struggled with that one for a while.

  “People,” she finally said.

  Alice gave her a disapproving look. “You’re still trying to impress Rodger, aren’t you?”

  “No,” Lindsey said. “I’m done with Rodger. If anything, I want to succeed just to spite him.”

  “Then he’s still running your life.”

  Lindsey forked her fingers into her hair and swept it off her forehead, clutching the long strands in her fist. “I know,” she said. “I know. It’s just so confusing.”

  They were silent for a while, until Lindsey couldn’t resist asking the question her grandmother had planted in her head.

  “You said you talked about me. What did Granddad say? Did he say he was leaving me the ranch?”

  Grace shook her head. “He thought he had a lot of time left. He never told me about the will.” She leaned over and patted Lindsey’s hand. “What he wanted was for you to be happy. I think he left you the Lazy Q so you’d know for sure he forgave you.”

  “You think so?”

  The last argument between herself and her grandfather had been so harsh, she’d thought it could never be resolved. She’d been hurt that her grandfather couldn’t see how lucky she was to be marrying Rodger. He was a doctor, after all. A surgeon. Brilliant. Accomplished. Wealthy.

  And a jerk.

  Looking back, it was clear as the blue sky that she’d been making a mistake, but at the time, she’d been dazzled.

  “I always meant to come back and apologize, but I wanted to be truly over Rodger before I did it. I didn’t want Granddad to see what—what he did to me.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  Lindsey looked down at her hands, clenched in her lap.

  “I know something happened.” Grace’s tone was gently coaxing. “Tell me about it. There shouldn’t be secrets between us.”

  No, Lindsey thought, there shouldn’t be. Not about this.

  Besides, her grandmother, of all women, would understand. Sucking in a deep breath of pure country courage, she spoke, staring at the floor.

  “I was going to have a baby. I thought it would make everything all right. I’d stop working and stay home, just like Rodger wanted me to, because my child would be so precious.” She didn’t bother to wipe away the tears now streaming down her face. “But I had a miscarriage. He—he died before he was even born.” Her voice stilled to a whisper. “Daniel.”

  “That was his name?”

  Lindsey nodded.

  “It’s a good name.”

  “Rodger didn’t understand why I was so upset.” Lindsey wiped away her tears as her sorrow turned to fury. “He said it didn’t matter, because we could have another baby. He wanted to try again, right away.”

  “And you didn’t want to?”

  “I needed to mourn for Daniel. Maybe I’d have had another baby. Probably. But first I needed to get over what had happened.” She felt the tears stinging again, but this time they were tears of fury. “Rodger didn’t get it. He said Daniel wasn’t viable. That he wasn’t a real person, and I shouldn’t mourn for him.”

  “But he was a real person to you.”

  “I talked to him. I sang to him. I loved him so much. And he died.” Lindsey looked down at the floor, her vision blurred. “Rodger didn’t even want to bury him. That’s when I left.”

  “You did the right thing.” Grace stared off into the distance. “I wish Daniel could have seen the ranch. He would have loved it here.”

  Lindsey nodded, her throat aching. She wasn’t surprised her grandmother knew just what to say. There were two little tombstones in the family plot where Bud lay, two little lives put to rest when they’d barely begun. Of course Grace understood.

  And now that someone else knew about her son and acknowledged that Daniel had been real, she could feel something glowing inside her again. It felt like a sunrise, like something she’d been waiting for. She’d tried to tell Rodger the darkness inside her needed to lift before she could love another child, and she could feel it lifting now.

  “I think you’re right.” She pictured her Daniel, a little dark-haired boy, running across the field, a flower clutched in his small fist. “He would have loved it.”

  “But now you have a chance for a new start,” Grace said. “You know what I’d do if I were you?”

  “What?” Lindsey leaned forward. Finally, Grace was going to give her some advice.

  “I’d go for a horseback ride. I always find I can think more clearly on the back of a horse.”

  Lindsey laughed. She couldn’t help it. Horseback riding was Grace’s cure for everything. “Are any of your horses fit to ride?”

  “Try Parsnip, the pretty gray. She’s old, but she’s still strong.”

  “Like you.”

  Grace smiled. “Like me. Just make sure she minds her manners. She was a pistol in her younger days.”

  Lindsey laughed. “Also like you.”

  Grace nodded. “I was always an independent little cuss, and it surprised folks because I looked so darn sweet.” She let out that tinkling laugh Lindsey loved. “I never lived my life for any man until Bud came along, and then we lived for each other.” She gave Lindsey a probing look. “Don’t give up just because you made a mistake, dear. Not all men are bad. I can vouch for that.”

  The assurance, meant to comfort, stabbed Lindsey like an arrow to the heart. She stood, turning away so Grace wouldn’t see the pain and disillusionment on her face.

  Striving for a light tone, she picked up the empty cookie plate. “Well, I�
��m not going to worry about it now. It’s not like I’m going to find the right man out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  A picture of Lockhart flashed through her mind, but she erased it as quickly as she could. He wasn’t the right one. It’s just that he was the only one.

  This really was the middle of nowhere.

  “Don’t be so quick to dismiss your chances. You never know what you might find out here.” Grace winked. “Life is full of surprises.”

  Chapter 15

  Grace was right. Life was full of surprises, and a very pleasant one greeted her as she headed out the door to go riding. So often, a sight on the ranch would strike her as a picture she wanted to save in her mind forever. This one made her wish she could paint.

  Two horses were tied to the top rail of the corral. They matched in every detail—chestnut coats; long, wide blazes; and socks on all four feet—but one was a good deal smaller than the other. The two cowboys saddling them were a matched set too, with nothing but size to set them apart. Shane tossed a saddle blanket over his horse’s back, then hefted a saddle on top while Cody struggled to emulate his every move with his own horse. The boy staggered under the weight of his saddle, but he managed to heave it into place.

  Lindsey strolled over and leaned against the fence, resting her elbows on the rail.

  “What’s your horse’s name?” she asked Cody.

  “Lightningbolt Thunderflash Lockhart the Second.”

  She checked the boy’s face for a hint of humor, but found none. “That’s a real mouthful.”

  “I know.” The boy pooched out his lower lip. “But everyone was calling him Pickles, and he didn’t like it.”

  Lindsey glanced over at Shane, who ducked behind his horse’s neck a second too late to hide a smile.

  Good Lord, the man was transformed when he smiled. The stern furrows around his mouth and eyes relaxed, and his dark eyes lit with humor.

  “How come they called him Pickles?” Lindsey asked.