The boy shrugged and scuffed one boot in the dust. “Dad said he kept getting into pickles, so I guess somebody around here grows ’em. I’ve never seen a pickle garden, but I guess Lightningbolt Thunderflash has.”
Now it was Lindsey’s turn to hide a smile. “Is there a Lightningbolt Thunderflash Lockhart the First?”
“No,” Cody said. “I just thought it sounded better that he was ‘the second.’ More noble.”
Lindsey cocked her head and considered Pickles, who looked relaxed and a bit sleepy, but hardly noble. “I think you’re right. He needs a noble name.”
“See, Dad?” Cody, who hadn’t missed a beat in the horse-saddling ballet, shoved one foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle like a seasoned cowhand. “I told you it sounded better!”
“You win, Son.” Shane mounted up and grinned down at Lindsey from horseback.
Lindsey laughed. She couldn’t help it. Now that she’d seen a hint of Shane Lockhart’s softer side, she thought maybe she could tame him into a friend and an ally. She didn’t see how she could keep the ranch, but if through some miracle she managed it, she’d need Shane Lockhart’s help.
“So are you guys going out to round up cattle?” she asked. Cattle, not cows. Bud had taught her that. “Looks like there’s rain coming. Do you need an extra hand?”
She was sure she had all her cowboy terminology right, so it surprised her when Shane turned a mocking smile on her.
“Rounding up cattle? In the middle of summer? I don’t think so, unless you’d like me to run the weight off ’em before they go to market in the fall.”
“Um, no.” Lindsey felt a flush warming her face. “I guess not.”
He grew suddenly serious. “You could help us though, if you don’t mind.”
She nodded eagerly. If she could only be a part of things for the short time she had left, she’d at least build good memories of the ranch.
“You’re right about the rain,” he said. “I’m thinking we ought to bring the cows their slickers. You want to get ’em for us?”
Lindsey paused, puzzled. “Slickers?”
“Yeah, you know. Cow slickers. They’re yellow.”
Did he really think she was that much of an idiot? She glanced up at his face, which was stonily serious. Only his eyes hinted at the joke.
Furrowing her brow, she did her best to look confused. “I think I’ve seen those. They have hoods, right? With holes in them for the horns?”
The small smile he’d aimed at his saddle horn widened slowly, revealing strong, straight teeth, and he broke into a hearty laugh. Cody, who had managed a straight face through the whole setup, giggled along.
Faking anger, Lindsey set her hands on her hips. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”
“A man can hope.” He gathered his reins. “It would have made for some fun around here. Besides, I figured any rancher who rescues a kitten from a perfectly dry, comfortable barn probably thinks those poor cows need to be protected from the rain.”
Lindsey pictured the cows, grazing in a rain-swept field with their slickers on, their horns poking through the holes in the hoods, and had to laugh. And laugh. For some reason, the idea struck her as hysterically funny.
Leaning back against the fence, she let herself go, laughing loud and long. The cowboy joined her. Cody too—and there it was, that sunrise feeling again, shining away the grief that had shrouded her heart for so long.
It wasn’t easy to let her sadness go. She was the only soul on earth who had known Daniel, the only one who had loved him. But as she clutched her stomach and caught her breath, she realized it was time to start living again.
Joy welled up in her heart. It was an emotion she hadn’t felt in a long time, and the relief nearly overwhelmed her. She struggled to contain her laughter as Shane and Cody’s amusement tapered into occasional chuckles.
“Can’t help it.” She clutched her stomach, breathless. “I was picturing the cows. I can’t…” She closed her eyes and covered her mouth, taking a deep breath. “Can’t stop laughing.”
But she wasn’t laughing anymore. To her horror, there were tears running down her face. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. All she could do was lean against the fence with her hands over her face and cry.
“Ma’am?” Cody edged his hors a few steps toward her. “Are you okay?”
She tried to stop for the boy’s sake, but her emotions washed over her in great, crashing waves.
Daniel. Daniel. Daniel. She had to let him go. She’d never forget him, but it was time to lift the weight of mourning from her heart.
But then he’d be truly gone. And Bud—his death was one thing, but the secret he’d kept robbed her of her respect for him, though not her love, and tainted everything in her world. It proved you couldn’t trust anyone. Any man.
Through eyes blurred with tears, she looked up at Shane.
“I’m sorry. It’s just—everything changed.” Her normally husky voice sounded broken somehow, even to her. “Why did Bud leave the ranch to me? What did he want me to do? I need him here. I need to talk to him, to ask…” The laughter started again, this time with a hysterical edge.
Shane slid down from the saddle in a smooth, practiced motion.
“Cody, go back to the house.” He was all business. “Stay with Grace until I call you, okay?”
“Okay.” Cody dismounted reluctantly. “Is Lindsey okay?”
“She will be.”
Lindsey was barely aware of the boy’s backward glance as he ran for the house, or of Shane’s grimace as he tossed his horse’s reins over the rail. She simply cried, crumpling as strong arms pulled her away from the fence and held her against a strong, solid chest. She breathed deep, struggling for control as he held her, not gently or lovingly but firmly, the way he’d hold a fractious horse.
“Come on, now.” She’d never noticed how deep his voice could be. Resting her head against his chest, she could feel it as well as hear it—dark, rich, and rumbling. Why was that such a comfort? She wished she could stay here and lean on him forever.
He pushed her away as if he could read her foolish mind. Gripping her arms, he gave her a stern glare. Her knees nearly gave way and the tears continued to fall.
“You’re okay,” he said. “You are. You’re fine. Look at me, Lindsey. Look at me.”
She flipped her eyes open and there he was, inches away, far too close and bigger than life.
“Breathe,” he said. “Breathe deep. You’re okay.”
His was the kind of voice you obeyed, so Lindsey breathed, but she still couldn’t stand on her own, so he pulled her close again. This time she could swear there was something more than business on his mind. His embrace felt almost tender. Caring, anyway. She drew in his warmth, savoring the comforting scent of a workingman—leather and laundry soap, hay and horses, plus a faint undertone of rust and cinnamon that must be his own unique scent as a man. Eyes closed, she breathed again, and felt his essence uncurling inside her, filling her, calming her.
Tempting her too. Beneath the business was the caring, and under that was the sexual shimmer she’d felt before. Everything about him was square and strong and masculine, from the muscular arm that circled her shoulders to the strong, stern planes of his face.
Closing her eyes, she breathed again deep and slow. He held her and breathed with her, the shared rhythm building a bond that made her feel safe, like a small boat escaping a storm. Her heartbeat slowed, and the tangle of confusion inside her began to unwind.
“Just relax,” he said. “Just breathe, and take it easy. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“Is it?”
Shane pushed her gently away and looked at her, really looked at her, long and hard. His eyes were as dark and deep as his voice, and she was mesmerized by her own reflection in his pupils.
“If I knew what was wrong, I could answer that.”
She simply blinked. It had been hard enough to tell Grace about Daniel. She could
n’t tell Shane. And she could never tell Bud’s secret. Never, not to anyone.
Much as she wanted to confide in Shane, she simply couldn’t.
“You didn’t expect all this, did you?” he asked. “The inheritance, I mean.”
“I didn’t expect anything. I didn’t expect Granddad to—you know.” She put a fist to her mouth, holding back another sob. “I rehearsed what I’d say to him over and over. How I’d apologize. And now…” She waved one arm at the sagebrush-dotted land that surrounded them. “What am I going to do with it?”
“I figured you’d sell it.”
“How could I? That can’t be what he wanted. But—but I might have to.” She felt her knees weaken again and looked around for something, anything, to support her. Hay bales, covered by a blue tarp, were stacked against the fence. She managed to sit down rather than fall, and felt a little better, despite the thousand worries swirling in her mind.
“What will Grace do if I have to sell? If I kept it, she could stay here.” She looked up at him, blinking away tears. “You could run it, right?”
He nodded. “I could run the ranch all right, and send you a check every quarter. Obviously it’s what would work out best for me and Cody. But you’d have to do something about Grace.”
“What do you mean, do something about her?”
“She can’t live here on her own. She’s had a good weekend, but Grace is a little—off. She gets pretty confused sometimes.”
Lindsey didn’t answer, because she didn’t want to argue, but Grace seemed fine to her. She dispensed wisdom and humor in equal portions, just as she always had.
“She can’t live on her own. Not without…” His voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t quite say Bud’s name.
Lindsey sighed. At the funeral, she’d thought Shane might be one of those con men who cozied up to elderly women to get control of their money. But now, it was obvious he truly cared about her family. He wasn’t trying to take anything away from Grace. He was just one of those old-fashioned men who thought a woman couldn’t live without a man.
Besides, now that Lindsey had inherited the ranch, the only way to gain control would be cozying up to her.
She glanced up to see if there were any signs of impending coziness. He was still watching her, his eyes searching hers as if he could read her thoughts. She thought maybe the cozying was about to begin, but he looked more annoyed than adoring.
“You okay now?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
She wished, suddenly, that she could confide in this man. If only her little boat could drop anchor in his smooth, protected waters. She longed to rely on him, trust him, and live in the protective circle of his arms a little longer.
But she barely knew him. And she’d sworn, after her disastrous marriage, that she’d never again let a man run her life.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Sorry I lost it for a minute there.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”
And just like that, he’d flipped the switch, going from caring friend to hard-eyed stranger in the blink of an eye. She wondered what made him that way. What went on under that broad-brimmed hat?
As he turned away to squint at the horizon, she looked him up and down and reframed the question.
What went on under those Wranglers?
There were times when, despite all her issues, her vows and decisions, she surely wanted to know Shane Lockhart a whole lot better.
Chapter 16
Lindsey rose and rested her arms on the top rail of the corral. Looking out over the endless pastures of the Lazy Q, she was struck by a sudden inspiration.
“Did Bud own the ranch free and clear? No mortgage?”
He nodded. She could see mistrust burning in his dark eyes, like a banked fire gleaming out from under dark coals. He was thinking she was all about money again, but she didn’t care what he thought. She needed to solve her problem, for Grace’s sake.
“What are the cattle worth? If we sold them right now?”
He named a figure that took her breath away.
She could pay off William Ward and have money left over. Money that could go toward the animal sanctuary she’d always wanted. Sure, that was a crazy childhood dream, but if there was no mortgage on the ranch, it could work. Maybe her dreams were within reach after all.
Shane snorted. “We’d be fools to take it. They’ll be worth twice that in three months.”
She turned, leaning her back against the fence and shoving her hands in her pockets.
“I don’t have three months.” She stared down at her boots. “If I’m going to keep the ranch, I need to get some cash together now.”
“What?” He stood, resting one hand on the top rail as if he could barely stand. “You just inherited a multimillion-dollar ranch and you need more? What the hell for?”
She gave him a cool stare. It wasn’t easy; his anger loomed over her like a thundercloud, ready to burst open with lighting and slashing rain. But she had her own anger, and it was rising too. When the two storms clashed—as they were about to do—it would be a sight to see.
She drew herself up to her full height. It wasn’t much, but that and her dignity were all she had. “That’s not really your concern. All you need to know is that I’m definitely considering a sale. In fact, it’s my number one option right now.”
He slowly raised a fist, then dropped it. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and she couldn’t help swooning a little at the power he was holding in check.
Swooning. She wanted to smack herself. She’d had fantasies about Shane Lockhart from the first time she’d seen him, and not just sexual ones. That would have been understandable, but she’d also had rescue fantasies, where he swept her up onto his horse like a black-hatted outlaw in an old dime novel. He’d set her on the saddle in front of him and carry her off to his cabin, where he’d—
The real-life Shane interrupted her fantasy with a brutal truth. “You can’t sell the cattle. They support the ranch.”
He had a point. At first, they’d need some sort of income to keep the sanctuary going until she had time to secure grants and collect donations. The cattle-raising end of the operation would provide that support, and she didn’t see how she’d succeed without it.
But if selling the herd was what it took to keep Grace in her home, then it would have to be done. She’d figure the rest out later.
He was still staring her down. “What exactly do you plan to do with the ranch, anyway? You don’t have some harebrained scheme to raise llamas or something, do you?”
“No.” She decided she’d better keep her sanctuary idea to herself for now. “I’m not sure, actually. I’d just like to keep Grace in her home. Whatever it takes.”
“I guess that’s what really matters.” He had the good grace to look a little ashamed. “But just so you know, the cattle are essential. There are taxes to be paid, maintenance, all sorts of expenses.”
She shrugged, faking nonchalance. “Maybe we could lease some land, or maybe, if we kept just a few prime breeders, we could start over. You’re the ranch manager. Shouldn’t you be telling me?”
“I am telling you.” He resumed his pacing, his boots leaving sharp gashes where they bit into the soil. “Selling the cattle would tell everyone, loud and clear, the place is in trouble. Everybody would know that either you need the money, or you’re a fool who doesn’t know a heifer from a bull calf. Or both.”
She shrugged one shoulder, deliberately casual. “Fine with me. I am desperate, and I don’t know much about cattle either.” She flushed. “Although I do know how to sex calves.”
Stepping close, he set his hands on the fence rail, one on each side of her. The move hemmed her in and brought him dangerously, deliciously close.
She widened her eyes in alarm. What had she done to deserve this? Was he so testosterone-loaded that the mere mention of sex—even in the context of baby cows—was some sort of turn-on?
He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes, and spoke in a low tone as cold as the hiss of a snake. “Can’t you wait three months to get your hands on your inheritance?”
Once again, she’d mistaken anger for passion. Shane Lockhart just confused her, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She’d been struggling to keep her emotions at bay ever since she’d broken down, but now her eyes glossed with tears until she could barely see his face. When the first tear fell, she felt him soften and relent.
“Oh, come on, now. Don’t cry. Not again. You cry too much, dammit.”
He swiped away a tear with the back of his hand. His rough words felt surprisingly gentle, and the sudden kindness was such a surprise, she didn’t know how to respond. Not that it mattered if she knew or not, because she simply couldn’t respond. The tears were flowing freely now.
“What’s the matter?” His voice was hoarse—with emotion? Nerves? She couldn’t tell. He sounded desperate, exasperated, and pleading, all at once.
She shook her head and a strand came loose from her ponytail, falling across her face. He swept it away with a touch so soft it felt like a caress.
She looked up to see those outlaw eyes, hard and dark, still fixed on hers. His sensuous mouth had been tamed by self-discipline into a thin, expressionless line, echoing the architecture of his face—high cheekbones, dark skin, a strong, jutting jaw. She had a sudden urge to kiss him, to force that mouth to soften against her own.
But that would be reckless, and she wasn’t the reckless type. Tearing her gaze from his face, she unclasped her barrette and refastened it, tucking in the errant strand as if he wasn’t just inches away.
He watched every move.
She fumbled the clasp and her hair came loose again, falling around her shoulders in disarray as the barrette fell to the ground.
Ignoring the fallen clasp, Lockhart took her hair in his hands, stroking it back from her face. His touch was gentle, but his eyes held a hunger that was barely in check. He looked like a wolf who’d found something helpless and pretty he wanted to take for his own.
Well, she might be pretty, but she wasn’t helpless. She ruled her own life, made her own decisions.
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