Winning Over the Cowboy

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  She made a zipper motion across her mouth and headed inside.

  As the door shut behind her, Levi ambled up the path from the barn.

  “Hey, boss.” His words were thick and slurred together, the s sounding like th.

  “Are you drunk?” Please, no. Levi was invaluable to the ranch as a hand and trail guide, but their strict no-booze policy applied to everyone.

  “You know I don’t drink. I had a root canal this morning. Just woke up.”

  Chase winced. “Sorry for the assumption. But I don’t think you’re up for our ride.”

  “Feeling no pain. Good drugs.” Levi waggled his eyebrows. “Doc said I’m good to go.”

  In his right mind, Levi was the epitome of responsible and reliable. But tonight, not so much.

  It was the Sanchezes’ last night here. He couldn’t cancel the trail ride and camping trip on them. But he couldn’t depend on Levi in this condition.

  “How about you go sleep it off? I’ll get someone else.”

  “But really, I’m okay.” The more the man talked, the more drunk he sounded. “Except for operating heavy machinery.”

  “I’m thinking that might apply to a horse, too. I got this, buddy. Go rest.” Chase clapped him on the back. “I’ll get one of the other guys to drive you home.”

  “All righty then.” Levi swayed.

  “In fact.” Chase grabbed his arm, led him to a chair. “Let’s get you a seat.”

  “I’m fine.” Levi sank down.

  With him settled, Chase made the call, waited until one of the other hands headed from the barn.

  Levi slumped in the chair, already snoring.

  “I don’t know how you were upright a few minutes ago.” Chase chuckled.

  “I got him,” the other hand waved.

  “Thanks.” Chase stepped inside, cut through to the kitchen.

  Mom chopped bell peppers while Dad and Landry rubbed seasoning into roasts lining the counter. Landry dropped hers into the pan, then looked up.

  “Hey, Dad, any chance of you helping me with a trail ride? Levi ended up on the losing end of a dentist’s drill, and he’s on pain medication. With as many kids as I’ve got, I need two guides.”

  “Your father is a lot of things.” Mom patted Dad on the shoulder. “Trail guide isn’t one of them.”

  “The last time I tried riding for that long, I couldn’t walk for days.” Dad chuckled. “But Landry used to head them up when she lived here before.”

  Another surprise. An unwelcome one. He did not need to spend more time with Landry. With all his truce and friend talk, he wasn’t sure he could pull that off. Not without wanting more from her.

  If only she were unqualified for their new guidelines. But he already knew she was certified in CPR.

  “I’m preparing for tomorrow’s lunch.” Landry’s gaze skittered back to her roast.

  “We’ve got this.” Mom started on another pepper, her knife making rhythmic slices. “Most of our guests are going on the ride, and we already packed their picnic supper. You’ve done the biggest prep for tomorrow by getting the roasts cooking. Go get ready while Chase gears the horses up.”

  “I guess I’ll go put my boots on then.” She washed her hands, exited the kitchen.

  Chase shot his mom a look.

  “What?” She gave him an innocent shrug. But her grin oozed pure cunning.

  He hurried out to the barn, where the ranch hands had the horses ready. Their guests who’d signed up for the ride circled the livestock. He really needed to get the ranch hands trained in CPR so he wouldn’t have to take Landry along again.

  By the time she strolled their way, they’d managed to get everyone mounted. They formed a half circle around him with his bay and the one he’d chosen for Landry, a palomino.

  “This is Pearl.” He stroked the creamy horse’s neck, the animal’s platinum tail swishing. “She’s gentle and easy to handle.”

  “I know my way around a horse.” She lowered her voice. “But I’m surprised you didn’t give me a stallion.”

  His mouth twitched. “Wish I’d thought of that your first week here.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but there was teasing in their depths. “She’s exquisite.” She turned to the horse, smoothed her hand over Pearl’s velvety snout, then set her foot in the stirrup.

  “She is.” He hurried to help, but she swung up into her saddle before he could get there.

  “Good girl.” She patted the horse’s shoulder.

  “Everyone ready?” He mounted his horse.

  The kids’ eager shouts echoed through the air.

  “I’ll take the lead. You bring up the rear. Make sure no one strays.” Chase clicked his tongue, and his bay sauntered toward the trail, its russet coat gleaming in the waning sun, black mane swaying with the movement of its massive shoulders.

  Excited voices, the clop of hooves and chatter filled the woods as they headed down the trail he knew like the freckles scattered over Landry’s nose he’d recently memorized.

  Somehow over the last week, despite his best efforts, he’d started needing her near. Needing her as much as he needed pure Texas air to breathe.

  Twisted, gnarled live oaks lined each side. Mexican hat wildflowers scattered about with their cones in the middle and droopy yellow petals. White rocks and cypress lined the river. He usually gave a running commentary, pointing out everything to their guests, but he just couldn’t focus.

  As they neared the fence separating their property from Resa McCall’s, his gut sank. Telltale brown leaves on at least three live oaks.

  And suddenly his problems were way bigger than Landry. Because he wasn’t sure they could afford a bout of the oak wilt fungus he was seeing on those leaves. He knew this newly formed partnership with Landry would be going through another test. If they didn’t take care of the problem quickly, it could effectively shut down the ranch.

  * * *

  The fire pit cast a glow on each face in the circle as the logs popped and hissed. Too warm for a fire, but no one seemed to mind. They just scooted their chairs back. Night sounds filled the air—the vibrating buzz of cicadas mixed with crickets chirping, frogs croaking and the occasional hoot from an owl.

  Chase had been unusually quiet during the trail ride. Back when Landry had led them, she’d done a running narrative on the types of trees, the horses and even the weeds—which she was actually allergic to. If not for the allergy pill she took daily, the frothy, lacy milkweed and the vibrant orange butterfly weed would send her into a sneezing frenzy.

  Maria finished her s’more, then skipped—braids bouncing—around the seated adults and stopped beside her mom, who uncrossed her legs and helped Maria onto her lap.

  As the other kids and several adults finished their s’mores, the mom stroked her daughter’s braid. “I used to wear a braid when I was little. Grandma used to fix my hair for me.”

  “Really?” Maria turned sideways and looked up at her. “I wanna be beautiful like you when I grow up, Mommy.”

  Maria’s mom hugged her, sticky fingers, grass-stained knees and all. “You’re already beautiful, sweetie.”

  Tenderness and love glowed out of Maria’s dad as he watched his wife. That was what real love looked like.

  Kyle had never looked at Landry like that. And she’d never looked at him that way, either.

  They’d been a train wreck waiting to happen. Him trying to change her, her trying to force her happily-ever-after. She’d used him to make her dreams come true. She was as much at fault as he was.

  But he had to have known before the wedding that he didn’t want to go through with it. All he’d had to do was tell her. Instead he’d embarrassed her in front of practically everyone she knew.

  Yet Jesus had gone through so much more. Tortur
ed and dying on a cross, all the while asking his father to forgive his tormentors.

  Her heart twisted. Since attending church again, she’d prayed for God to help her forgive Kyle. I’m sorry for being bitter, Lord. A heavy burden lifted. I forgive Kyle.

  That odd sensation crept up the back of her neck, like someone was staring at her. She scanned the circle. Chase.

  But the corners of his mouth tipped down, a sadness in his eyes. Was he thinking about Eden? His sister had always enjoyed sitting around the fire pit. Though she never camped out, she loved when they were brimming with guests. Especially kids. Even though almost ten months had passed, it was still hard to fathom she was gone.

  He averted his gaze. “Who all wants to camp out tonight?”

  “Me. Me. Me,” excited children echoed.

  The parents had planned the surprise for the kids, but the grandparents were going back to the ranch house.

  “Okay.” Chase brushed his hands off and stood. “I set up five tents earlier. Each couple will have their own tent, the girls get one, the boys another, I have one and I can set one up in case you wanted to stay, Landry.”

  “I’m in.” She loved camping. And in spite of herself, she loved being near Chase.

  Something raced over his expression too fast for her to read. Pleasure. Disappointment. A mixture. She wasn’t sure. Did he regret letting that barrier slip away?

  “I have wet wipes for messy hands and faces.” She passed out several containers.

  “Exactly what we need.” The moms eagerly swabbed their kids despite their protests.

  One of the Sanchez dads rose to his feet. “Let’s hit our sleeping bags, then.”

  “Aww. Not yet,” one of the kids protested.

  “The fire’s dying down, and Mr. Chase needs to put it out so he can turn in.” The youngest mom looked toward the sky with a dramatic eye roll. “Besides, y’all will be up at the crack of dawn.”

  The two couples stood, and the kids reluctantly trailed to their tents.

  The Sanchez patriarch heaved himself up, assisted his wife. “Don’t we need to help with the mess?”

  “I’ll get it.” Chase picked up a few paper plates and cups, tossed them into the fire. With a whoosh, they turned to ash. “Landry will take y’all back to the ranch house.” He started folding empty chairs and blankets. “I’ll call the hands, so they’ll meet you to take care of the horses.”

  “I’ll be back.” She swung up in her saddle while he helped the elder Sanchezes.

  Ideally when she returned, he’d still be sitting at the fire. And she could join him. For what?

  She should go back to the ranch house and stay there. Call Chase and tell him she’d changed her mind about camping.

  “See if Mom and Dad can come with you. Not to camp—unless they want to. But I need to talk to them.”

  “Okay.” So much for spending time alone. Probably for the best. She trotted her horse into the darkness.

  The Sanchez grandparents followed.

  Something was wrong. Chase had been so quiet—none of his usual clowning to entertain their guests. So distracted and serious. What could be bothering him just when they were starting to get along?

  Chapter Eight

  Hoofbeats echoed through the darkness. Landry emerged from the shadows into the well-lit campground first—her hair a tangled mass of curls, her cheeks flushed, his parents trailing behind.

  All three dismounted, and Landry plopped on the blanket beside him.

  Her knee brushed his as she curled her legs to the side away from him, her shoulder a breath away from his. His heart skipped a beat, his nerve endings on high alert.

  His parents settled across from them. They were like two couples.

  “I’m glad y’all could come.” Chase turned to Landry, then wished he hadn’t. He lowered his voice so their guests wouldn’t overhear. “Did you see the trees by the fence on the McCall side?”

  She squinted one eye—a gesture he recognized she did when she was thinking. “Not really.”

  “We’ve got oak wilt.” He ran a hand through his hair. “At least three trees.”

  “Oh, no.” Mom groaned.

  Dad let out a heavily burdened sigh. “Ah, son. I’m sorry.”

  “Like that patch of dead trees down the road with the gray furry stuff on them?” Landry pointed west.

  “That’s oak wilt.” Chase hung his head. “It starts with brown leaves, then the furry stuff, and the tree dies.”

  “That’s so sad. That strip of trees used to be so pretty.”

  “This could be the end of the dude ranch.”

  “Why? So we lose some trees. Sad, but not the end of the world.”

  “It won’t stop with three, Landry.” All moisture evaporated from Chase’s mouth. “It’ll keep going until they’re all dead. People come to dude ranches to go on trail rides, to camp, to have bonfires. In the woods.”

  Dad winced. “A friend from church had an outbreak last year. He lost most of his trees, and his neighbor lost some, too.”

  “But there’s got to be some fungus killer we can spray. Right?”

  “There is.” Dad grabbed a stick, poked around in the fire. “But the most effective treatment is to have trenches dug to break up the root system and separate the diseased trees from the healthy ones. That’s what he did, but it was almost too late.”

  “There you go.” Landry splayed her hands. “We’ve got shovels.”

  “Four-foot-deep trenches.” Chase met her gaze.

  Her smile faded. “We have a tractor.”

  “It takes more than a tractor. It’s expensive.” The glow of the fire highlighted the planes of Dad’s face, the silver in his hair.

  “How expensive?”

  “When our friend reported his infestation, the company said usually two to eight thousand. His was so bad, he ended up paying much more.” The graveness in Dad’s tone sank something hard into the pit of Chase’s stomach.

  He saw Landry’s mouth move, but nothing came out.

  “Let’s just pray it’s not bad.” Chase stood, paced around the fire.

  “We could help shoulder the cost.” Dad’s eyebrows rose.

  “No.” Chase reclaimed his seat. “Y’all have your own business to worry about. I only told y’all because I remember you mentioning somebody who’d dealt with it.”

  “But we’re in this together, son. What affects the dude ranch affects the restaurant.”

  “What do we do?” Landry’s voice went an octave too high.

  “We can try fungicide treatment. It’s not nearly as effective but costs considerably less at one fifty per treatment.”

  “We’ll do whatever it takes. If it’s a bad outbreak, worst-case scenario—” Chase’s breath caught in his lungs “—we’ll get a loan.” With business so spotty during the off-season, the last thing they needed was a big dent in the ranch account or to take on debt.

  “Now, hold on, son. We may only be talking a few trees.” Dad met his gaze across the fire. “We need to call the Texas A&M Forest Service. There’s federal funding for this sort of thing that might help with the cost. And since it’s near the fence, you need to contact Resa. It might affect her trees, as well, and maybe the McCalls could share the fees.”

  “They’re rich.” Landry’s lips found a smile once more.

  “We can’t expect her to foot the bill.” Chase scowled. “She already cut us a great deal when we updated our furnishings last year.”

  “Of course not. I just meant that she can afford her share—if her trees are affected. And maybe the forest services will aid us.”

  “Landry’s right.” Mom stood. “We might be stressing over nothing. And no matter what Chase says, we’ll pay our share. If we lose dude ranch custome
rs, we won’t have anybody to feed in the restaurant. In the meantime, I say we enjoy the rest of the evening and make the call in the morning.”

  But Chase’s anxiety didn’t lift. What if there were more diseased trees scattered throughout the property? What if the oak wilt wasn’t only in the beginning stages?

  “Until then, stop worrying about it.” Landry set her hand on his arm, sending his pulse into overdrive. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “I’ll try.” He stood. “Stand back while I put the fire out.”

  His parents said their good-nights, mounted up and rode off into the shadows. Landry headed for her tent as he doused the fire with the water hose hooked to an old well Gramps had dug for safety purposes.

  Wished he could douse his apprehension as easily.

  * * *

  Chase waved beside Landry until the two minivans full of Sanchezes drove out of sight.

  “I’ll miss them.” She hugged herself.

  “They’re good folk. They seemed to have a really good time and mentioned coming back, so maybe we’ll see them again.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze, and saw her immediately wince.

  “You okay?” He jerked his hand away.

  “Just sore.” With a sheepish grin, she massaged the side of her neck. “I haven’t slept on the ground since...I don’t even remember when. I didn’t think I was gonna be able to move when I woke up this morning. What did the forestry service say?”

  “Funding is in place for our area for cost sharing. They’ll come for an inspection tomorrow.”

  “That’s fast.” She headed for the kitchen.

  “Oak wilt doesn’t rest.” He followed.

  His parents stood at the counter, Dad busily chopping and dicing while Mom flattened a mound of dough.

  “Is Levi back at work today?” Mom’s rolling pin was so quick, it seemed self-propelled.

  “His jaw is the size of a boulder, but he says he’s fine.”

  Landry grabbed her apron and food prep hat.

  But Mom held her hands up. “You won’t be needing those today.”

  “I won’t?” Landry’s movements stalled.

  “I want Chase to go to The Apple Café in Medina and pick up the cases of preserves I ordered. And you’re going with him.”