Lone Star Burn_The Foreman and the Lady

by Kate Richards

  “No cussing in the house,” Maggie sniffled, blowing her nose into the cotton square.

  “Your dad isn’t here anymore. And your brother is an asshole.”

  She lifted her face and gaped at him. “My brother is dying. Look at him! He can’t weigh more than ninety pounds, and he’s the color of oatmeal. I think he’s even bald.”

  “No excuse for the way he treated us. Even if he does look like puke.” He returned his attention to Baxter. “Complete bullshit.”

  Baxter made a choking sound and began to cough, but he laughed through it. “Man. You two are the souls of compassion. If I didn’t know I looked like crap already, you’ve confirmed it. Everyone else around here acts like I’m made of glass, but my sister and my best friend have not an ounce of pity for a dying man.”

  Maggie stood again as if she might throw herself at her brother, but Will grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her, turning her to face him. She buried her face in his chest and soaked it with tears.

  Will patted her back and shook his head. “Why, Baxter? Why did you leave us out of the fight of your life? For your life?”

  He shifted, wincing with even the small movement, and Will’s heart ached for his friend. “At first, I thought I could beat it. The docs gave me a good chance, in fact. Did you know only 10 percent of people who get my kind of cancer die of it? It usually responds to treatment really well. Even without the tumor being removed.” He gave that painful smile again. “They call me extraordinary, but I don’t take it as a compliment.”

  Moving toward the empty chair, Will sat and put Maggie on his lap. She snuggled against him, needing comfort more than he could even imagine. “There has to be something else we can try. Another hospital? One of those big cancer centers they have in all the commercials?”

  “No.” Baxter’s firm, resigned tone hurt Will even more. “My doctors consulted with everyone. When they did the first radiation treatment, the tumor began to grow. Exponentially. Turns out, to quote the oncologist, ‘That happens sometimes.’ They don’t know why. Something to do with the tumor itself. If they hadn’t treated it, I might have had longer. Ironic, huh?”

  Maggie trembled in his arms, and Will hugged her. “Something like that.” You heard all the time about people being cured or at least going into remission for years and years. “Do you even have cancer in your family?” Maybe it was one of those genetic things they talked about on the news.

  “My folks died in the car crash, but all four grandparents lived into their eighties and none of them died of cancer. Far as we know, I’m the first one. I sure did it right, didn’t I?”

  Maggie sat up and stared from one of them to the other. “Baxter, I’m so sorry.” She let Will lace their fingers together. “I came here to support you, and instead I cry my eyes out and make it worse.”

  Baxter winked at her. “Sis, you didn’t make it worse. I don’t think anything could. But having the two of you here, together, is the best thing I could imagine. I didn’t know you were even in contact, much less back together.” His smile this time looked less garish and a little more like his buddy. “But it couldn’t be more perfect. When I go—Maggie, stop crying for just a minute!—Maggie will have the ranch and with Will as foreman, until you decide to tie the knot, at least, Honeysuckle Ranch will have a family here again.”

  Juliana appeared in the doorway with a tray holding shortbread cookies cut into diamonds and drizzled with more of the dark chocolate, a pecan on top of each, as well as a pitcher of foaming milk and three glasses. She set the tray on the table between them and filled the glasses, handing one to Maggie and Will then closing Baxter’s hand around the third with a stern look. “And make him eat a cookie.”

  “Juliana,” Baxter protested, “I don’t—”

  “Do it to please me, Mr. Baxter,” she said. “You need your strength.”

  He nodded and accepted the shortbread she handed him. “I do. I just had a great idea. Since Maggie and Will are back together now, it is my fondest wish to see their wedding before I die.”

  Juliana nodded. “I think that is the best solution. It would make your blessed parents happy as well.”

  “So I can count on you,” he said in the strongest voice he’d spoken with yet. “Juliana, will you plan the party and invite all the neighbors? All of Fort Mavis will want to come and see the new owners of Honeysuckle Ranch marry. We must do it as soon as possible.”

  “He can’t be serious.” Maggie put one foot in front of the other as she moved down the hallway toward the staircase and dinner a while later. They’d stayed with Baxter while he ate the cookie and then a little soup Juliana brought him, but he’d insisted they join the rest of the ranch folk for their own meal.

  “I wanted to tell him the truth,” Will said. “That we weren’t back together, but with you on my lap, clinging to my shirt, it looked bad.”

  “Bad?” She jerked to a stop and glared at him. “So getting back together with me is your worst nightmare?”

  He sighed. “Maggie, I’ve dreamed of you just about every night since I last saw you. We have a little time before the dinner bell.” He laid his arm over her shoulders in such a familiar way, she could almost believe Baxter was right or they were back in their youth when he’d first realized the little girl chasing after her big brother and his friend had grown into a woman. “Let’s go sit on the porch swing and try to figure this out. I don’t even know what to think at this point.”

  She didn’t either. Honestly. Outside, a few of the cowboys were lingering in the yard, waiting for the bell, but they weren’t close enough to overhear their conversation. Probably. They settled side by side in the swing, the same one where they’d shared hopes and dreams and plans. And where they’d realized their lives would not be able to mesh. Will wanted to stay in the area, to work on a ranch, even if he didn’t get along well enough with his stepdad to work with him on their little spread. It wasn’t the kind to support a family anyway. His own father had been happy working at Honeysuckle and just played with some breeding and a little garden over there.

  “Will, did Baxter say something about your being foreman here? Is that why you came?”

  “Yeah.” He gave the swing a push with his foot, and it moved gently back and forth.

  “So you really didn’t know anything about Baxter’s illness. You were coming to take the job?”

  “Exactly. I always kind of thought I’d be foreman here, growing up, but I was way too young when my dad died and then your dad hired the guy who stayed here until last year, I guess.”

  “Okay, so you are going to be the foreman here.”

  “I just signed a year’s contract to work here. And, as your brother’s only living relative it looks like I will be working for you instead.” He gave her a little smile. “Boss lady.

  “Will, I’m a professor in California. I can’t run a ranch.” She wrung her hands. “Even if I had ever wanted to run one. What do we do?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I’ll do whatever you want. But your brother wasn’t listening when we tried to explain. We only agreed to go get the license tomorrow, right? And there is a three-day waiting period after that so we have time to try again to talk sense into him. The way he looks, and I hate to say it, but we don’t know if he’ll even last that long.”

  She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and forced the tears back. She’d dehydrate at this rate. “Sure. He was just excited to see us, and we really were behaving as if we’d gotten back together. I don’t want to say sorry, brother, but we’re just so upset over your demise we’re crawling all over each other.”

  “Right.”

  From the back of the house, the dinner bell chimed, and they rose and started for the dining room. “We’ll go get the license first thing, like we promised, and then forget about it.”

  Unfortunately, the girl inside her who’d loved Will from the time she could toddle had never forgotten the fact, and the woman she’d become still felt the same way. Dammit!<
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  She’d grieve her brother in California, while teaching classes at the university. And she’d do it as a single woman. Maggie had already shown her hand by clinging to him at every opportunity. No wonder Baxter thought what he had. Most engaged couples didn’t display such behavior.

  Chapter Five

  Will ran a finger between his collar and his neck, wondering why he’d worn a dress shirt to an office resembling the motor vehicles department more than anything else. The line strung out the door, but instead of grouchy vehicle registration customers, giggling couples and their equally giggling families populated it. After nearly two hours, their happiness set his teeth on edge. Up well before dawn, he’d grabbed a breakfast on the run from Juliana, who rose earlier than anyone, and spent some time with Jose riding out to where the main herd grazed before racing back to shower and dress.

  Such joy on the faces of those surrounding them. He’d once imagined doing this with Maggie, picking up the license a few days ahead of a big church wedding with everyone in the Fort Mavis area in attendance. She’d have spent weeks shopping for her dress and shoes, driving him crazy with details of the music and flowers.

  Cake tastings…his buddies all griped about only getting a bite of each kind of cake then having their opinions set aside by their brides and future mothers-in-law. He’d laughed at them but secretly pictured her sparkling under all the attention.

  And don’t get him started on the wedding night.

  “Will, we’re next.” Maggie looked especially nice, too. She wore a long, floaty skirt and gauzy blouse in shades of orange and red that made her hair even more vivid. Her toenails, revealed by strappy sandals, were painted almost the same coral as the honeysuckle on the ranch.

  They waited a few more minutes at the head of the line until a tall, skinny guy who looked like he belonged on the basketball court scooped up his bride to be and carried her away, followed by half a dozen cheering relatives and friends.

  The woman behind the counter, an older lady who looked like she would rather be anywhere than there, waved them forward. “Forms.”

  What warmth and personality! He laid the form they’d downloaded last night in front of the woman along with his birth certificate and hers. They’d tried to use hers as an excuse, first, but Baxter had just seen in the family safe recently. When he mentioned not having his, her helpful brother suggested he go over to his folks’ place, he suddenly remembered he had a copy in one of his boxes.

  The only thing the clever dying rancher couldn’t do was hurry up the timing.

  A small fee and a few stamps and questions later and they were on their way out of the office and heading to the ranch pickup in the parking lot. “Not too bad, was it?” Maggie asked, rolling her eyes. “In ninety days it will become magically invalid if not used.”

  “Yes,” Will replied, clicking the lock and opening the door for her. “Mrs. Happy Clerk was quite adamant we must use it within the allotted time or reapply and pay another fee. Look, she even highlighted it on the sheet of instructions she gave me.” He helped her into the cab and handed her the license and other forms. “Don’t lose that, whatever you do.”

  “I think Baxter would kill us both.”

  He closed her into the luxurious cab and came around to his side. When he turned the key, the air conditioning whooshed to life, banishing the noontime heat. “I’m starting to like my truck less.”

  “Don’t you dare say that.” She laid a hand on his arm and his skin came to life, too, as it did anywhere she touched. “Whatever happened to the one you had back when we were dating? After you put all that work into it, I thought you’d have it forever.”

  He had, too. “My mama needed surgery, and my awesome stepfather had let the insurance lapse again.” Will backed out of the spot, watching the mirrors, and Maggie rested her hand on his thigh. His cock reacted instantly. “I had to help out.”

  “What a beautiful truck.” He hated hearing the pity in her voice.

  “Yeah, it was okay. I sold it to a kid down the road, you know the one, the football player.” He remembered his name but didn’t feel like saying it.

  “Did you get enough for the operation?” She settled back, fastening her seat belt, and he regretted the loss of her hand on his leg. His rust bucket had that great bench seat. These cabin chairs kept her way too far away.

  “Enough to get her through the door. I made payments to the hospital for two years. And I pay for her insurance.”

  “Not his?”

  He cursed. “Sorry about the language. No. I do not pay for his medical insurance.” Not even when his mother begged him to. It presented a line he could not cross.

  He caught her fierce glance in his peripheral vision. And her hand clenching into a fist. “I am glad. And I hope he gets struck by lightning.” Will grinned. What a woman. And he had a license to marry her.

  Just not her true consent.

  Back on the highway, they sailed along, the ride smooth as silk. Maggie belonged in this kind of vehicle. Speaking of which… “Maggie, did you ever call the rental agency?”

  “Oh, farkles.” She plunged her hand in her purse and retrieved her phone. “I forgot completely.”

  “Language, Maggie.”

  “You should talk.” She tapped the screen and made the call on speaker. The woman on the other end sounded quite indignant she’d left their car on the side of the road, but Maggie pointed out she could have been injured and in fact thought she might have some neck pain even now.

  Hanging up, she put her phone away and sat back. “She got so nice when she thought I was going to sue. Everyone sues in California, but in Texas?”

  He grinned at her. “Maybe she was in California.”

  Maggie nodded. “I guess she could have been anywhere. But I expect better from Texans.”

  “We are a special breed.” They approached the main gate to Honeysuckle Ranch, the one wreathed in vines, and he slowed. “Are you sure you want to go on a picnic?”

  As they’d left the house that morning, Jose had deposited a blanket and a big red cooler with a white top in the back of the truck.

  “What choice do we have? Jose said Baxter and Juliana insisted we go somewhere pretty and enjoy the afternoon. It would be romantic, they said. Engaged couples should picnic.”

  He sped up and continued on around to the other gate, a straight shot through to the lake. When Maggie moved to get out, he took her hand off the seat belt buckle. “Not today, Maggie Lynn. I’m going to show my fiancée a real special afternoon. Wouldn’t want you breaking a nail on the rusty, old gate.

  She giggled and batted her eyelashes at him, holding up her short, clear-polished nails. Why, thank you, Will. I hope you will remember how I like to be treated throughout the years of our wedded bliss.”

  “Forever.” Perhaps he spoke in too heartfelt a manner because she didn’t reply, and when he got back in the truck, they rode in silence over the bumpy road—much less bumpy in this truck—all the way to their destination.

  The small lake on Honeysuckle Ranch didn’t always hold water all the way through summer. Calling the pond a lake was generous, but it held the reflection of the full moon at night, and he remembered well the last time they’d been here.

  She popped her seat belt and climbed down. He didn’t try to help her, afraid to overstep their fragile connection again, but when he came around to lift the cooler, Maggie gave him a little smile, and his heart lifted in relief.

  “It’s still pretty here, isn’t it?” She fetched the folded blanket and started toward a spot under a tree he remembered well. While the water did still sparkle under the noonday sun, the grass had begun to yellow, reminding them fall waited around the corner. But you’d never know it from the heat beating down around them today.

  “Just beautiful. Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” He followed her and set the cooler down in the shade then took two corners of the blanket and helped her lay it flat.

  “It does. Baxter and I used
to come out here all the time; we got in trouble for it, too. Mom insisted we’d drown, but the water isn’t five feet deep in the center most of the time. Such a-a worrier.” Her voice broke. He hated her pain. She, like him, had only one close family member but she verged on zero. He had no idea what to do to make it better.

  He could offer his heart—she’d had it all this time anyway—but what would she do with it back in California. For all he knew, she had someone there. But wouldn’t he have come out with her if she did?

  “Maggie, want to kick off our shoes and wade?” He unbuttoned the stiff shirt and peeled it away, leaving the sleeveless T-shirt underneath. “Sorry, I just couldn’t stand it another minute. I suppose the men you go out with always dress up to beat the band.”

  She stared at him, her brow furrowed. “Beat the band? No, because they are not eighty years old. But if you want to ask me something, just say it, Will.”

  He flushed. He’d never been able to get anything past her. Leaning on the tree to toe off his boots, Will went for it. “Okay. Are you seeing anyone, Maggie?”

  Seeing anyone? She dated, sure. And most of them did dress up nicely to take her into The City for lectures or the ballet or the philharmonic. Just the thing for professors to enjoy. Very highbrow and long hair. Yay. But she rarely went out with anyone more than once because they couldn’t compare with the man who bent at the waist, cuffing his jeans for wading. Facing away from her. Mighty fine view here in Texas.

  “Wading is okay, but you know what?”

  He peered at her, upside down and between his legs. Will could not be anything but hot in any position. “What’s that, darlin’?”

  “I feel like swimming.”

  Will straightened and turned slowly toward her, a jeans leg rolled halfway up his calf. One brow arched, daring her to continue. “I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”