A Cowboy Comes Home

by Barbara Dunlop

  He stared at her for a long, silent minute as she tugged off her boots and tucked her loose hair behind her ears.

  He took two steps forward. “Tell me you didn’t.”

  “Didn’t what?” She steeled herself for a moment then met his gaze full-on.

  “Mandy.” He smacked the screwdriver and rag on top of the dining-room table. “He’ll break your heart.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She had her suspicions, but she didn’t know for sure, so it wasn’t a lie.

  “What do I always tell you?” He came forward at an angle, giving her the impression he was circling in.

  “You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

  “We’re not like you, Mandy. We’re guys. We’ll say anything, do anything—”

  “Caleb’s not like that.”

  Travis scoffed out a cold laugh. “What did he tell you?”

  “He didn’t tell me anything. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stomped to the sofa and flopped down, picking up this month’s Equestrian magazine and opening it in front of her. “And I really don’t want to have this conversation with you.”

  Travis moved to the armchair across from her. “He’s from Chicago, Mandy. He’s not staying.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Mandy didn’t expect Caleb to stay. Her wildest wish was that he’d hang around long enough to meet up with Reed. Beyond that, she had absolutely no illusions.

  “The women he goes out with,” Travis continued. “They know the score. They expect the lies. They know they’re lies.”

  “Caleb has not lied to me.”

  “Then how’d he get you into bed.”

  Mandy determinedly flipped her way through the pages of the magazine. “None of this is any of your damn business.”

  “I love you, Mandy.”

  “Shut up.”

  “He doesn’t.”

  She glanced over the top of the magazine. “What a ridiculous thing to say. Of course he doesn’t love me. Why would he love me?”

  “Then why won’t you believe I have your best interest at heart?”

  “I’m not a child, Travis. I like Caleb. Caleb likes me. Despite your cynicism, that’s all there is to it. I’m not about to get hurt. And that’s all you need to know.”

  “Then, why were you up there tonight?”

  “He needs help,” Mandy answered honestly.

  “And you’re going to be his Florence Nightingale?”

  “He needs to see Reed. The two of them need to talk, really talk. You don’t know what they went through as children.” She breathed deeply, absolutely sincere in her argument.

  Travis sat back, his posture relaxing. “I have a pretty good idea what they went through. I knew them both quite well.”

  Mandy dropped the magazine and sat forward. “Then help me find Reed. Caleb is determined to sell the ranch out from under him. He almost did it while we were in Lyndon. If I hadn’t spoken up about the water rights, we might already have new neighbors. Reed needs the ranch, and Caleb needs Reed.”

  “You spoke up about the water rights review?”

  “Yes.”

  “To Caleb’s potential buyer?”

  She paused. “It came up in conversation.”

  “And you think Caleb still likes you?” Reed asked on a note of astonishment.

  “He understood.”

  “Mandy, the world isn’t the happy fun place you seem to picture. People aren’t sweet and kind and friendly, looking to do each other favors 24/7.”

  “Will you stop?”

  “Reed and Caleb are grown men,” Travis warned her darkly. “Neither of them is going to thank you for interfering.”

  Well, at least Danielle was on her side. She’d definitely thank Mandy for interfering.

  “What if it was you?” Mandy asked. “What if you and Seth were estranged? Would you not want someone to facilitate your reunion? If you were about to lose the ranch, would you not want someone to help you out?”

  Travis moved from the armchair and angled himself next to Mandy on the sofa. “Those two men have a very dark past. They’re not going to recognize what you’re doing as helpful. They’re going to hate you for interfering.”

  “Reed would never hate me.” And she had to believe Caleb wouldn’t, either. Oh, she was under no illusion that he was falling for her in a romantic sense. But he had been a gentleman, more than a gentleman.

  “Reed’s been hurt pretty bad.”

  “Yes, he has,” Mandy agreed. She paused, looking directly at the brother she’d loved all her life. “And he’s our friend. Do you really want me to turn my back on him?”

  Travis mouthed a swearword, rocking back on the sofa. “You shouldn’t be sleeping with Caleb, Mandy.”

  “I am not going to—”

  “Stop talking right now,” Travis barked. “Before you have to lie to me. If you fall for him, it’s going to be a disaster.” He paused, his mouth turning into a thin line. “Then again, if you’re sleeping with him, it’s already too late.”

  Mandy felt her throat close up with emotion. She couldn’t think about her feelings for Caleb, not right now, not when so much was at stake. “I have to find Reed.”

  Travis hesitated, then he reached out and rubbed her shoulder. “Okay, little sister. Okay. I’ll help you find Reed.”

  “You will?” she managed.

  “I will.”

  “Good.” She nodded, feeling stronger already. “Great. Danielle gave me a name—”

  Travis recoiled. “Danielle?”

  “Yes. She wants Reed to come back, so that Caleb will go back to Chicago. There’s some Brazilian deal with a ticking clock.” Mandy waved a dismissive hand. “Anyway. She put me in touch with a private investigator. And he’s going to find Reed for us. All we have to do is keep Caleb from selling the ranch until then.”

  Eight

  Caleb gazed up and down the wide hallway of the main Terrell barn, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the job in front of him. He’d had his secretary calling moving and storage companies this morning, but they all said they needed an estimate of the volume to be moved and stored. So Caleb had to figure out what to keep and store, and what to sell with the ranch.

  He couldn’t see the point of keeping the saddles and tack. Those things they’d sell as is. They’d also sell the horses and livestock. Same with the equipment and the vehicles. Whoever bought the ranch would likely have a use for much of the equipment, and Caleb was inclined to give them a good deal if it meant streamlining the sale.

  The office—now, that was a different story. His boots thumped against the wooden floor as he crossed the aisle to stare in the open door of the office. It held two desks, five file cabinets and a credenza that stretched under the window. Some of the paperwork would stay, but a lot of it would be personal and business records that would have to be kept for the family. Well, for Reed. And that meant sorting through everything.

  Caleb let his shoulders slump, turning his back on that particular job and making his way farther into the barn. About twenty horses were stabled inside. He made a mental note to make sure the hands were exercising each of them every day. He’d spoken briefly to their half dozen full-time hands, the cook and with the two men who were up from the Jacobses’ place.

  Everything was at least under temporary control.

  A horse whinnied in one of the stalls, drawing Caleb’s attention. He took a step closer, squinting into the dim stall.

  “Neesha?” he asked, recognizing the Appaloosa mare. “Is that really you?”

  She bobbed her head, seeming to answer his question.

  A beauty, she was chestnut in the front, with just a hint of a white blaze. Her hindquarters were mottled white above a long, sleek tail.

  She lifted her head over the stall, and he scratched her nose, rubbing her ears. She’d been a two-year-old when he left, one of the prettiest foals ever born on the ranch. He glanced into tack room, r
ealizing her saddle and bridle would be easy to find using his father’s ultra-organized system. He also realized he’d love to take her out for a ride.

  Someone entered through the main door, heavy steps, long strides, booted feet, likely one of the hands.

  “Caleb?” came Travis’s flat voice.

  Caleb’s hands dropped to the top rail, fingers tensing around the rough board. He was under no illusion that Mandy could keep up a lie to her brother. So, if Travis had pressed her last night, he was likely here looking to take Caleb out behind the barn.

  Caleb braced himself and turned.

  Travis came to a halt, but when he spoke, there was no malice in his voice. “I guess it’s been a while since you saw Neesha.”

  “It’s been a while,” Caleb agreed, watching Travis carefully. A sucker punch was no less than he deserved.

  “You up to something?” asked Travis.

  Caleb had no idea how to answer that question.

  “Hear from any new buyers?” Travis tried again.

  “Nothing so far.” Caleb allowed himself to relax ever so slightly. Perhaps Mandy was more devious than he’d given her credit for.

  “I’m trying to get an estimate for moving and storage.” His gaze was drawn past the big double door, toward the ranch house. He couldn’t begin to imagine how big a job it would be sorting through the possessions in the house. In addition to the rooms, there was the attic, the basement. He’d like to think he was emotionally ready to tackle it, but a thread of uncertainty had lodged itself in his brain.

  Travis nodded. “A lot of years’ worth of stuff in there.”

  “It’s a bitch of a situation,” said Caleb.

  “That it is,” Travis agreed. “We’ve got to ride the north meadow fence today. You up for it?”

  “With you?”

  “With me.”

  For a brief second, Caleb wondered if Travis was luring him away from the homestead in order to do him harm. But he quickly dismissed the suspicion. If Travis wanted to take his head off, he’d have tried by now. From everything Caleb knew and had learned, the man was tough as nails, but he wasn’t devious.

  “Sure,” Caleb agreed. The house could wait. It wasn’t as though it was going anywhere.

  “I’ll take Rambler,” said Travis.

  The two men tacked up the horses and exited into the cool morning sunshine. The meadow grass was lush green, yellow-and-purple wildflowers poking up between leaves and blades, insects buzzing from plant to plant, while several of the horses in the paddock whinnied their displeasure at being left behind.

  They went north along the river trail, bringing back Caleb’s memories of his childhood, and especially his teenage years. He, Reed and Travis had spent hours and hours on horseback out in the pastures and rangeland. They’d had a special clearing by the river, where they’d hung a rope swing. There, they’d swam in the frigid water, drank beer they’d bribed the hands to bootleg for them, bragged about making out with the girls at school and contemplated their futures. Funny, that none of them ever planned to leave the valley.

  “I did a search on Active Equipment,” Travis offered, bringing Rambler to walk alongside Neesha. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Had nothing better to do,” Caleb responded levelly, though he was proud of his business achievements.

  Travis chuckled. “I bet you fly around the world in that jet, going to parties with continental beauties, while your minions bring in the millions.”

  “That’s pretty much all there is to it.” Caleb pulled his hat down and bent his head as they passed beneath some low-hanging branches. He was surprise by how natural it felt to be in the saddle.

  “Gotta get me a job like that.”

  Caleb turned to look at Travis. “Are you thinking of leaving Lyndon Valley?”

  “Nah, not really. Though I wouldn’t mind tagging along on one of your trips sometime, maybe Paris or Rome. I hear the women are gorgeous.”

  “Open invitation. Though, I have to warn you, it’s mostly boardrooms and old men who like to pontificate about their social connections and their financial coups.”

  “You’re bursting my bubble.”

  “Sorry.”

  They were silent while the horses made their way down a steep drop to a widening in the river. There, they waded hock-deep to pick up the trail at the other side, where they climbed to the flat.

  “You remember the swing?” asked Travis.

  “I remember,” Caleb acknowledged. If they turned north and followed the opposite riverbank, instead of veering across the meadow, they’d be there in about ten minutes.

  “You remember when Reed dislocated his shoulder?”

  Caleb found himself smiling. It was the year they were fifteen. Reed’s arm had snagged on the rope, yanking his shoulder out of his socket as he plummeted toward the deep spot in the river. He’d shrieked in pain as he splashed in, but he’d been able to swim one-armed through the frigid water back to shore.

  Fresh off a first-aid course in high school, Caleb and Travis managed to pop the shoulder back into place.

  “He never did tell my dad,” Caleb put in.

  Caleb had helped his brother out with his chores as best he could for the next few weeks, but Reed had pretty much gritted his teeth and gutted it out.

  “I thought it was funny at the time,” said Travis. “But five years ago, I dislocated my own shoulder. Codeine was my best friend for about three days. Your brother is one tough bugger.”

  Caleb knew Reed was tough. Reed had been taller and stronger than Caleb for most of their lives. He’d uncomplainingly taken on the hardest jobs. When Caleb had become exhausted and wanted to quit, risking their father’s anger, Reed was the one who’d urged him on, one more hay bale, one more board, one more wheelbarrow load. He would not quit until he’d finished an entire job.

  “And he never backed down from a fight,” said Travis.

  Caleb stilled. He let his mind explore some more of the past, remembering the day he’d walked away from the ranch. For the first time, it occurred to him that Reed probably saw leaving as backing down, and staying behind as a way of holding his ground against their father. He’d wanted Caleb to stay, begged him to stay, asked Caleb to stand toe to toe with him when it came to Wilton.

  “And he hasn’t changed,” Travis continued. “It’s a little harder to make him mad now, but once you do, stand back.”

  Caleb knew he’d made Reed angry. Back then he’d done it by walking away. Now he’d done it all over again by inheriting the ranch. It didn’t matter that he was right. It didn’t matter that Reed was misguided. The damage was done.

  An image of his brother’s mulish, teenage expression flashed into Caleb’s brain. His throat suddenly felt raw. He knew a line had been drawn in the dust. He also knew he was never going to see his brother again.

  He pressed his heels into the mare and leaned forward in the saddle, urging her from a walk to a trot to a gallop. He heard Travis’s shout of surprise, and then Rambler’s hooves pounded behind them.

  The world flashed past, Neesha’s long strides eating up the ground, her body strong beneath him, her lungs expanding, breaths blowing out. He settled into the rhythm, breathing deep, fighting to clear his mind of memories.

  But the memories wouldn’t stop. He saw Reed when they were seven, wrestling on their beds when they were supposed to be asleep, their father’s shouts from the living room, the two of them diving under their covers, and lying stock-still while they waited to hear Wilton’s footsteps on the stairs.

  He saw them chasing down an injured calf when they were thirteen, waving their arms, yelling until they were hoarse, corralling it where they could look at the gash on its shoulder. Reed had held it still, while Caleb applied antibiotic ointment and crudely stitched the wound.

  Unfortunately, their efforts had only served to make their father angry. He told them they’d wasted far too much time and effort on a single calf and made them work an extra two hours before a
llowing them to come in for a cold dinner.

  But there were also good times, when Wilton had been out on the range, sometimes for days at a time. When their mother would relax and smile, and they’d play board games, watch silly sitcoms and eat hamburgers on the living-room sofa. Reed had been there for the good times and the bad. They’d struggled through homework together, commiserated with each other over unfair punishments, drank illicit beer, raced horses and teased each other mercilessly at every opportunity.

  Travis shouted from behind him, and Caleb saw they were coming up on the fence-line. He pulled back on the reins, slowing the mare to a walk, forcing deep breaths into his tight lungs.

  “You going for a record?” Travis laughed as he caught up. Both horses were breathing hard, sweat foaming out on their haunches.

  “Haven’t done that in years,” Caleb managed without looking in Travis’s direction.

  “It’s like riding a bike.”

  “Tell that to my ass.” Caleb adjusted his position.

  Travis laughed at him. “And we’re going all the way around Miles Butte.”

  “That’ll take all day.” And half the night. “We’ll be lucky to get home by midnight.”

  “You got something you have to do?” Travis watched Caleb a little too carefully, waiting for his answer.

  Yes, Caleb had something he wanted to do. He wanted to see Mandy again.

  But, apparently, Travis wasn’t about to let that happen.

  Mandy hadn’t seen Caleb in two days. She’d read in one of Abigail’s women’s magazines that if a man wasn’t into you, there was little you could do to attract him. But if a man was into you, he was like a heat-seeking missile, and nothing would slow him down.

  Caleb definitely wasn’t a heat-seeking missile. And it had occurred to her more than once over the past two days that he might have got what he wanted from her and now moved on. Maybe Travis was right, and that was the way they did it in Chicago.

  Even this morning, they were taking two vehicles from the ranch to Lyndon for the first water rights review meeting. Seth, Abby and Mandy ended up in the SUV, while Travis and Caleb drove the pickup truck. It wasn’t clear who had orchestrated the seating arrangements, but surely any self-respecting heat-seeking missile could have managed to get into a vehicle with her.