How to Wrangle a Cowboy

by Joanne Kennedy

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Carson,” the clerk said. “You didn’t say. Did you make a list?”

  “I did!” The woman hunted through her pockets and fished out a crumpled shred of notebook paper. Setting it on a nearby shelf, she struggled to smooth it with trembling hands, then peered at it through the bottom of her bifocals.

  “What does that say, dear? I can’t read that chicken-scratch handwriting of mine.”

  “Close—clot—cloth—clothespins!” Riley said. “Those are right over here. You want the twenty-five pack or the fifty?”

  “Better give me the fifty,” the woman said. “Lord knows it takes more than two to hang my big, old bloomers these days!”

  She and Riley cackled together like two friends at girls’ night out, almost forgetting Lindsey.

  “Excuse me,” Lindsey said. “Could you tell me who Tara O’Dell is? I know the name sounds familiar, but…”

  She was pretty sure she knew the answer to her question, but she wanted confirmation.

  “Why, she’s that rat bitch from hell that had Shane Lockhart’s baby,” Eleanor said, cussing as enthusiastically as any sailor who ever lived. “You must know Shane. He worked for your granddad. Still does, if I’m not mistaken.”

  Shane worked for her now, but Lindsey had a feeling this woman was from a generation that wouldn’t approve of a woman running her own ranch, however briefly, so she stayed mute.

  “You got the ranch, didn’t you?” Eleanor asked.

  Lindsey nodded. She should have known the news would travel.

  “Well, good for you. Wyoming needs more lady ranchers. But I hope you’ll keep Shane on,” she said. “He’s the best hand in the county, maybe in the state. Steady, hardworking, and, Lord, but that boy’s smart. He sure turned out good, didn’t he, Riley?”

  Riley nodded, beaming. Lindsey was getting a little tired of hearing about Shane’s many virtues when what she really wanted was the scuttlebutt on his ex’s evil ways.

  “You weren’t exactly glad to see Tara,” she said to Eleanor.

  “No, you bet I wasn’t.” The woman laughed, a harsh, screeching sound that reminded Lindsey of the witches in a production of Macbeth she’d seen in Charleston. “I was thinking I needed to get together with my girls and find a way to run you out of town.”

  Lindsey pictured a horde of old ladies chasing her with pitchforks and torches. Then she imagined what it must be like to be tarred and feathered. But judging from the old woman’s vitriolic hatred for Tara O’Dell, the townsfolk might have been more likely to institute the grand Western tradition Lindsey’s granddad had called the Three S’s: shoot ’em, shovel ’em, and shut up.

  It was a good thing Riley had come to her rescue.

  “So I take it I look a lot like this Tara person?”

  Eleanor squinted, again examining Lindsey, and finally shook her head.

  “No.” She sounded disappointed. “It’s just the hair, and the shape of your face. You’re the same type.” The old lady gave her a smile almost as knowing as Grace’s. “I’m surprised he’s not courting you, pretty as you are. He always liked the dark-haired girls.”

  The old lady’s eyes must have been sharper than she let on, because she noticed the pink cast taking over Lindsey’s features and cackled.

  “Oh, so that’s how it is,” she said.

  Lindsey was sure Mrs. Carson had no idea how it was. As a matter of fact, Lindsey herself wasn’t sure what was going on between herself and Shane Lockhart. She had fallen fast and hard, but she had no idea what it might lead to.

  Fortunately, the old lady seemed to have moved on to a new topic of conversation.

  “You got any of those old yearbooks Alma kept?” she asked Riley.

  “I sure do.”

  Mrs. Carson gave Lindsey a sharp-eyed look and a lift of her brows. “I’ll bet you’d like to see a picture of Shane Lockhart’s lady land shark, wouldn’t you?”

  Lindsey had to laugh at that moniker, and Mrs. Carson cackled along. They were old friends by the time Riley appeared with the yearbook.

  “Same year as Ridge Cooper, so I knew which one to pick.” Riley set her jaw and Lindsey caught a glimpse of the tough girl who had chosen those tattoos. “Ridge married my best friend, so I know everything about him. I wasn’t about to let Sierra get hitched to some con man. I’d have driven him off.”

  “I’ll bet you would have,” Lindsey said.

  Riley brushed her arm down her tattoos self-consciously, and Lindsey realized she’d passed judgment on someone she barely knew. Hastily, she did her best to cover her mistake.

  “Sierra’s wonderful,” she said. “If I was lucky enough to be her best friend, I’d protect her too.”

  Riley beamed, making her silvery, silky beauty shine. “I was a real piece of work before I came to Wynott,” she said. “Sierra was the only person who believed in me. I followed her up here, and when I first saw this store, I fell in love.” She breathed deep, and Lindsey knew she’d found a kindred soul.

  “I love the way it smells too. I always think of it when I smell sawdust, and remember how nice Alma and Ed were.”

  Mrs. Carson rested her gnarled hands on her cane and looked up at Lindsey almost as if she was a normal little old lady rather than a geriatric avenging angel.

  “Alma passed away last year,” she told Lindsey. “MS, you know.”

  “Oh.” Lindsey felt the blow so hard she clutched at her stomach. “I—she was wonderful.”

  “Indeed she was.” The old lady nodded toward Riley. “This one turned up in town and surprised everybody by helping Ed take care of her.” She rested a hand on Riley’s forearm and beamed. “Knows all about hardware too.”

  Riley looked up from the old yearbook. “I was so lost back then. Got addicted to drugs in spite of all Sierra did for me.” She shook her head in wonder. “She never stopped caring, though. She got me into a rehab that had a program that taught carpentry and renovation.”

  Mrs. Carson patted Riley’s arm. “She needed Ed and Alma, and they needed her. Now that Alma’s gone back to her maker, she’s helping Ed run the place, and doing a fine job of it.”

  “Here’s Tara.” Riley handed the yearbook to Lindsey. “Right there in the middle.”

  Lindsey had braced herself for a beauty, but Tara’s senior photo made her wonder how such an ordinary girl had managed to cause so much trouble. She’d posed with her back to the camera, probably to highlight the long, dark hair that flowed down her back, and she was gracing the photographer—and the viewer—with a practiced smile. She was pretty enough, with big eyes and a pert nose, but there were a thousand girls like her in small towns all over America.

  Judging from the pose and from the confidence that radiated from her smile, the photo must have been taken before her abrupt fall from high school grace. The girl in the photograph couldn’t possibly know she was pregnant with her boyfriend’s child.

  If Shane had even been her boyfriend. From what Grace said, they hadn’t been involved for long. For all Lindsey knew, Cody was the result of a one-night stand.

  In any case, now that she’d seen Tara’s picture, Lindsey was even more flattered by Shane’s attentions. If a man who looked even faintly like Rodger had come along, Lindsey would have run away screaming, but Shane’s attraction to Lindsey had managed to overcome her resemblance to the dark-haired Jezebel she-devil from hell who’d tried to ruin his life.

  Chapter 36

  When Lindsey arrived at the law office, Adriana was visiting with her mother in the front office, leaning one curvaceous hip against her mother’s desk. She crossed her legs, letting one sling-backed sandal dangle from her foot while she chatted.

  The minute Lindsey arrived, she was all business—or at least, she tried to be. Hopping on one foot while she tugged the back of her shoe into place, she led Lindsey to her office, but crayons littered her desk, and a small, dark-haired girl bent her head over a drawing that looked like a rainbow slashing through a starry night sky
.

  Adie spoke to the girl in Spanish, and the child began raking up crayons with her hands, shoving them into a basket as the picture slid to the floor.

  “Is this your daughter?” Lindsey picked up the picture.

  Adie nodded, smiling. “This is Antonella.”

  “Toni,” the child said, putting out her hand and standing comically straight. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too. This is beautiful.” Setting the picture on the desk, she gestured toward the cheerful, waving hands on the wall. “I like your mural too. Your mother’s very proud of you.”

  Ducking her head, the child finished picking up crayons and nearly escaped before her mother playfully grabbed her ponytail.

  “What do you say?” Adriana smiled down at her daughter and Lindsey felt a pang of envy as the child turned to her and performed an abbreviated curtsy.

  “Thank you very much.”

  “You’re very welcome.” Lindsey returned the curtsy, bringing a smile to the child’s face. “Are you going to be an artist?”

  A shadow crossed the little girl’s face. “I think so. I wanted to be a horse trainer, but we don’t have room for a stable.”

  She ran off to be with her grandma in the front room. Watching her with longing eyes, Adie finally closed the door. When she turned back to Lindsey, she was back in professional mode.

  “You should bring her out to the ranch,” Lindsey said. “We have a lot of older horses she could ride.”

  “Oh, it’s just a kid’s dream,” Adie said. “We’re not really horse people.”

  Lindsey filed that information away while Adie sat behind her desk and opened her laptop. She needed to get Toni on horseback somehow before she left the ranch.

  “I’m glad you came in.” Adie looked down at her hands, frowning, then returned her gaze to Lindsey. “I have news for you.”

  Lindsey hoped Adie didn’t play poker, because her feelings were written all over her face. “Not good news.”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Adie tapped gleaming fingernails, polished in a deep shade of red, over her keyboard, and moments later the printer churned out a sheet of paper.

  “William Ward sent this yesterday,” Adriana said, handing over a printed email.

  Lindsey scanned it quickly. Just the thought of William Ward had a peculiar effect on her. The bright world around her seemed to go dim, and her heart felt heavy and hard. She’d always admired her grandfather as the ultimate straight shooter, and couldn’t square the man she’d known and loved with someone who’d betrayed his wife, used some other woman, and refused to recognize his own child.

  She supposed she was lucky William Ward was willing to disappear and give up all claim to the estate for mere money. Trouble was, she was no closer to having the money than she had been last time she’d seen Adriana.

  She scanned the email quickly.

  “Thirty days?” She couldn’t help screeching. “You’ve got to be kidding me! I can’t come up with that kind of money in thirty days. What happened to the three-month deadline?”

  Adie’s eyes were warm with compassion, but there was impatience there too.

  “Have you come up with a solution?” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Lindsey, but you’re going to have to put the place on the market. That, or come up with the money. We don’t want him to change his mind and take his case to court.”

  Lindsey nodded, miserable. She’d been wasting time. Dallying with cowboys, mostly, and playing with puppies, whenever she wasn’t horseback riding or hanging out with Grace. Her efforts in the attic and the tack room had been interesting, but there was nowhere near enough value there to satisfy William Ward.

  “I thought you were going to sell the herd,” Adie said.

  Lindsey couldn’t help blushing, but this was about shame, not Shane. She’d been stalling, lying to herself, pretending she could find enough veterinary work to pay off Ward, when all she had was her mobile kit. Talking about various solutions—selling the herd, selling the land—but doing nothing. And while she was fooling herself about the ranch, she was also telling herself she could have a real relationship with a man she had nothing in common with.

  She sat back, struggling to regain her composure.

  “I’ve learned a lot more about the ranching business, and it’s the herd that makes the ranch worth so much,” she told Adie. “I’m thinking I might sell some acreage out by the highway. Shane says it was purchased in the seventies, so it isn’t part of the historic ranch.”

  “Are you talking about that stretch along Interstate 25? With an old shed on it, and a broken windmill? Is that yours?”

  Adie sounded strangely excited, and when Lindsey nodded, her face lit up and she raised a fist in victory.

  “Am I the best lawyer in the universe?” she asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Yes.” Adie smiled. “Sometimes, this small-town thing pays off, because I know everything that goes on around here. A friend of mine who does real estate had a customer looking for that exact piece of land.” She leaned forward, excited. “You’ll have to ask Connie Delaney down at Century 21 what it would be worth. But I’m betting it would be enough, with the highway frontage and all.”

  “I’ll have to ask Grace. I know Bud left the ranch to me, but there’s no way he meant to take it away from Grace. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the real owner of the Lazy Q as long as she lives.”

  “But you haven’t told her about William Ward.”

  “No.” Lindsey splayed her hands. “How can I? All she has left is her memories of Bud.”

  “And a million-dollar ranch, and a bunch of stocks and bonds, and you.” Adie cocked her head, as if trying to read Lindsey’s mind. “It’s none of my business, but wouldn’t it be better for her if you just told her? She’s living in a fantasy world.”

  “She’s very happy in that world.” Lindsey felt her anxiety level rising, and her voice rose with it. “I’m not telling her, and neither is anyone else.” She brushed her hands together, as if disposing of that question once and for all. “Now. Who was asking about the land?”

  Adie’s smile faded. “Ed Brockman.”

  “Brockman? You’re kidding. He has the money?”

  “He says he does.”

  “He says he’s a rancher too.”

  “Well, he is, right?”

  “Not hardly.” Lindsey huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Talk about fantasies. He’s got nothing but noxious weeds and a few ugly cows on all that acreage.”

  She tried not to think about the fact that she’d only recently learned there was such a thing as a noxious weed, and she barely knew an ugly cow from a pretty one.

  Adie put a finger to her lips and looked up at the ceiling. “I wonder where he gets his money.”

  “I think he’s running a puppy mill.”

  “A what?”

  “A puppy mill. You know, breeding dogs.”

  “It would take a lot of puppies to pay for that land. There’s got to be something else. Connie says he has big plans for it.”

  Whatever Brockman had planned, Lindsey was sure her grandfather wouldn’t have approved. There had been very few men he’d disliked, but Ed Brockman headed the list.

  Lindsey sighed and paced the length of the tiny office, then paused and faced Adie.

  “If I let this go to court, what are the chances a judge would rule in William Ward’s favor?”

  “Pretty darn good. He claims Bud never gave his mother a dime, never acknowledged him in any way. He comes across as the aggrieved party, especially since his mother died of breast cancer because she couldn’t afford treatment.”

  Lindsey, who’d started pacing again, spun around. “There.” She jabbed a finger at Adie. “That.”

  “What?”

  “He has to be lying. Don’t you see? Bud would never let that happen.” She paced to the other side of the room. “Maybe my granddad cheated. I don’t know. But if he did, he still wasn’t cruel, and h
e wasn’t selfish. He’d have found a way to help.” She felt suddenly sure of herself. “Let’s call William Ward’s bluff, Adie. I think he’s lying. And if he’s not—well, I’m willing to take that chance.”

  Adriana crossed her legs and stared up at the ceiling. She was quiet for so long, Lindsey thought she might have fallen asleep, but finally, she rose and began pacing around the room.

  “Calling his bluff means telling your grandmother.”

  Lindsey slumped down into the chair again, resting her head on her hand.

  “But I think you’re right.” Adie seemed to have caught Lindsey’s excitement. “If this guy is really Bud’s son, he’s possibly entitled to the whole ranch. Why doesn’t he just step up and sue for it?” She came out from behind the desk and knelt beside Lindsey. “Look, you knew your grandfather, and you can’t seem to believe he’d do this. So call his bluff. You’ll get to the truth, and that’s always the best way to go.”

  “You’re right.” Lindsey thought of Grace, of the mists that had fogged her eyes lately, and of how clear and blue those eyes used to be, like a crystalline sky on a snowy day. Maybe finding out the truth, whatever it was, would snap her out of her grief and bring her back.

  It was worth a try.

  She took a deep breath, bringing a fist to her chest for courage.

  “I’m doing it. I’m telling her.”

  “Good for you.” Adie clapped her hands. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  The two of them passed through the outer office, where Adie’s father was now seated behind the big desk. Lindsey gave him a nod and a smile, then turned back to Adie.

  “I just hope all this doesn’t give Grace a heart attack.”

  “Who, your grandmother?” Adie’s dad shook his head, dismissing the possibility. “I don’t know what news you’re talking about, but don’t worry about Grace keeling over.” He chuckled. “She might look like a delicate flower, but that woman’s stronger than a steer wrestler on steroids. She had to be, to love your granddad the way she did.” His eyes misted over slightly, making Lindsey wonder if he hadn’t been just a little in love with Grace himself.