Cowboy Come Home

by Janette Kenny

  But why? What the hell did Ned hope to gain if the ranch bellied up? What would Daisy do if she lost the ranch?

  Don’t dwell on her problems. Don’t dwell on her. Best thing he could do was cut his losses and ride out.

  “I don’t have any cash to speak of,” she said again, “but you are welcome to take a cow and a calf to cover a month’s pay.”

  “A month’s pay? Sweetheart, your daddy owes me over two thousand dollars.”

  Far from a fortune, but it amounted to a year’s worth of scrimping and saving. “That doesn’t count the horses I won. Barton let me keep them at the Circle 46. Aim to go get them when I leave here.”

  You’d think he’d said ten times that amount, seeing as the color drained from her face. “Why would Daddy owe you so much money?”

  It was a question that deserved an honest answer. “I agreed to take half my pay up front the whole time I worked here and let Barton hold the other half for me. Did a couple of drives for him on the side and had him apply the whole of that pay to my savings. Check his ledger. It’s listed in that old battered trail log he kept in the back of the bottom drawer of his desk.”

  Trey had stood here month after month while Barton jotted down the amount he held on to for Trey before he collected his pay. He’d had dreams of claiming his share of the Crown Seven Ranch with that money.

  Barton became the bank that wouldn’t let him withdraw money without thinking things through first. For the first time in his life, he’d saved up a fair amount of money.

  Yet as it stood now the end result was the same.

  While he had been laid up in El Paso, the deadline to claim his shares passed. He’d lost the Crown Seven. And without the money he’d worked for, he wouldn’t be able to buy a ranch either.

  Hell, he didn’t have any money. With the drought burning West Texas to a crisp, ranchers were laying off cowboys, so he could damn well forget about getting work in these parts either.

  “I didn’t know this was in here,” Daisy said, as she brought the worn ledger out and laid it on the desk.

  Had she just stepped in here and not given the papers a thorough inspection? Had she any idea of half the deals her old man had made with his hands, ranchers, and buyers?

  Nope, he’d bet she left those details in Ned’s hands. That explained why she was losing money. Why she was clueless about the deal Trey was calling her on.

  Her fingers fumbled to untie the worn leather thong holding the ledger together. She turned the pages slowly, scanning each one, her frown deepening as she went through the book.

  Surprise and shock registered on her face. When she got to the pages that the old man had devoted to Trey’s dealings with him, she downed her head and bowed her shoulders.

  He started to reach for her again and just barely quelled the yearning. Damn if he’d let history repeat itself with her.

  “The amount Daddy held for you matches what you’re asking.” She closed the book, and her hands fluttered nervously over the leather. “I don’t have the cash, but I can give you the equal value in stock.”

  Prime stock too, or they had been before the weather took a toll on them. Still it was a tempting offer and likely would be his only chance to amass a sizable herd and recoup some of his losses.

  “With the market as tight as it is and the cattle in poor condition, I’d need twice as many to get my price out of them,” he said, not about to question why he was being straight with her. “I couldn’t do that alone, and every man I hired would need to be paid. Fact is, I don’t have a place to hold stock until the conditions get better.”

  She bit her lower lip, as if thinking something over. “You can keep them here.”

  He laughed at that notion. “Ain’t no way I’d do that.”

  Her chin came up, and pure hurt shadowed her eyes. “Are you arguing just to be contrary? There are only two choices. Take your cattle or leave them here with JDB stock.”

  He wanted to think she was just being sassy, but it was clear she believed her own words. “Why didn’t Ned move any of the herd to Barton’s old homestead?”

  “He told me the trail would be too hard on them in these conditions,” she said.

  “Harder than them dying of thirst here?” He shook his head that she’d caved to Ned so easily, but then Ned had been the old man’s foreman for ten years. She’d likely not seen that Ned was out to gain control of the ranch little bit by little bit. “If money is so tight, how are you paying the hands?”

  “They’re working for room and board with a promise I’ll pay them back wages plus bonuses once I get back on my feet. All except Ned. He wanted stock up front instead of money later.”

  “How many head has Ned taken off your hands?”

  A frown pulled at Daisy’s smooth brow as she opened a different ledger and ran a slender finger down the line of entries, her lips silently moving as she ciphered the sum. “A hundred and ten head.”

  “What’d he do with them?”

  “Kept them here, I suppose,” she said. “I didn’t ask.”

  He settled his hat on more firmly. “Maybe you’d best find out what your foreman is doing with his herd and yours before he owns all of your daddy’s stock. Hell, I doubt you have enough cattle to cover what’s due me.”

  He turned to leave, knowing a losing hand when he’d been dealt one. He’d lost it all but the horses, and without land he’d have to drive them to San Angelo and put them up for auction.

  “Wait!” She rounded the desk and crossed to him. “Do you really think we could save the herd by moving them to another ranch?”

  “I surely do.” He scraped a thumb over his chin, thinking. “Drought ain’t near as bad up on the Concho River.”

  “I’ve heard Daddy talk about the old ranch, but he never took me there.”

  Trey wasn’t surprised. He’d heard Barton lost his first family at the Circle 46. He’d moved on, and for reasons that were solely Barton’s, it appeared he didn’t want his new family mingling with memories of the old.

  God knew the house wasn’t nothing to brag on.

  He’d spent a week there last fall when Barton sent him and a couple of hands to San Angelo to buy thoroughbreds he’d had his eyes on. That’s when Trey won his horses. They’d driven them all back to the old homestead and set about turning it into a stud farm. It wasn’t much to look at then, but the foreman was a good man.

  “Unless the river has suddenly gone dry, the old ranch will beat this dust bowl you’re living in now,” he said, stating the obvious as he turned to face her one last time. “You’re the boss, Daisy. Tell your foreman you want that herd moved.”

  She stared at him, as if shocked by the idea of going against Ned. She’d transferred her allegiance to him now that her daddy was gone.

  Tied her cart to a dead horse was more like it.

  Trey turned and headed for the door, hating Ned more with each breath he took. Maybe revenge wasn’t such a bad idea after all. God knew he’d gain satisfaction meting out just a portion of what the foreman had heaped on him months ago.

  “Why don’t you do it?” she asked.

  Her words lassoed him and brought him up short again. He slammed a palm on the doorjamb and stared at the far wall, hating the thrill that hit him at that suggestion.

  She couldn’t mean it. He had to have misunderstood her, for Ned would pitch a shit fit if Trey stepped in now. Hell, he had to be loco for just considering it.

  And yet wouldn’t that sate a good deal of the desire for vengeance boiling in him? To get back at the man who’d left him for dead? To have the woman who’d shunned him crawl back and ask for his help?

  No, he wasn’t that way. Never had been. The best thing for him to do was to put this behind him and head out.

  Instead, he found himself asking, “Just what are you suggesting?”

  “You help me, and I’ll help you,” she said. “Drive the herd up to the Circle 46 and agree to be the foreman until the drought breaks.”

/>   “You’ve got Ned to do that for you.”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “You don’t trust me either.”

  She didn’t deny it, but she obviously placed him on a rung above Ned. He took no satisfaction in that, for when he’d needed her to step forward, she’d hid out.

  That’s what he ought to do now. But he couldn’t seem to make his feet move, even though he heard the rustle of her skirt over the pounding of his heart and knew she was coming toward him.

  “I know you don’t want to stay around here,” she said, her voice soft as velvet, “but I’m asking for your help. Just for a few months.”

  Trey didn’t want to help her. This downfall was just punishment for the Bartons. He should walk out with a smug smile on his face just knowing that the mighty were tumbling. Yep, he should cut his losses and skedaddle.

  But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted by her offer. He could come out of this disaster ahead of the game and give Ned his comeuppance for damned near killing him.

  “That’s all you want from me then?” he asked. “Move the herd and take my due when we part ways in a few months?”

  He heard her nervous sigh and caught the subtle scent of roses. She was right behind him. So close all he had to do was turn around and take her in his arms. Take her here and now and end the damned dreams that wouldn’t die.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Taking her up on the offer was worth the aggravation of working for her, for he’d gain cattle in the bargain. They’d be his start for his own spread.

  But he still didn’t have a place to run them, and the open range was over. What little remained had been eaten clean in this drought. So all he could do was sell them and bank his profits or do as she suggested.

  “Sam Weber still the foreman on the Circle 46?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. Ned told me that daddy hadn’t run much there but a small herd of longhorns and some mustangs,” she said. “After Daddy died, Ned thought it best to have a couple of men there to keep vandals from running off with the stock. He said the foreman decided to move on.”

  She’d been fed a line of whitewash if she thought those horses were wild. It was mighty clear she hadn’t had the inclination to visit the place herself to see what needed to be done. Clear too that Sam hadn’t come down to discuss what should be done with the thoroughbreds, though he could see where the man wouldn’t want to work for Ned.

  “I want it in writing that I’m the new foreman at the Circle 46 for the next two months,” he said.

  Brittle silence cracked in the room, and for a heartbeat he suspected she’d refuse. “What if I don’t find somebody to replace you by then?”

  Not his problem. “One other thing. I won’t work with Ned.”

  “No, you won’t,” she said. “He was Daddy’s pick. Not mine. It’s time to part ways.”

  “He won’t go easy.”

  “I know,” she said at last, but didn’t say why.

  Not that she needed to give him a reason. It was clear that Ned had been taking advantage of her naiveté. Just like that bastard had accused him of doing.

  “I’ll draw up the papers,” she said.

  He gave her time to return to her desk before turning around. But she hadn’t moved.

  She stood before him, chin high and big eyes full of worry and heartache. He stilled the urge to reach for her, to pull her into his heat and hardness and drink from her soft lips.

  He’d hired on to do a job, and he aimed to put himself first this time. She’d soon find out he wouldn’t bow to her every whim. He damn sure wouldn’t be lured back into her bed again.

  Now if he could just convince his body that he didn’t want her ...

  Chapter 2

  Daisy forced air into her lungs and hoped her knees wouldn’t buckle as she made her way back to her daddy’s big desk heaped with its monstrous responsibilities. My God, the last person she had expected to ever see again was Trey March.

  But here he was, just inches from her. Bigger than she remembered.

  Each breath she took drew him deeper into her and brought the memories that were never far from her mind to aching, pulsing life.

  All she had to do was reach for him.

  So tempting.

  In his arms she could forget the hell she’d endured these past six months. Just once more she could lie beside him, skin on skin, with their hearts beating in tandem like she’d dreamed of doing night after lonely night.

  Nobody could stop her now for giving herself to the cowboy she’d fallen in love with the first time she’d seen him. Nobody but her remaining strong, remembering the sad fact that the only love they’d shared had been physical. The only heart involved had been her own. That’s all she’d ever have with him.

  She’d given him all her love, and he’d taken it and her hopes and her dreams and then he’d ridden away.

  Daisy couldn’t go through that again, yet here she was sitting behind her daddy’s desk staring at a blank piece of paper. Trey wanted proof that he’d be in charge. He didn’t trust her.

  But then she didn’t trust him either. In fact she’d learned not to trust anyone save Ramona, her husband Fernando and their son Manuel.

  She wasn’t a starry-eyed innocent any longer. She saw men in a whole new light. She saw Trey for what he was instead of what she desperately had wanted him to be.

  Yet right now she was poised to draw him back into her life for a few more months. Only because the plan that Ned had suggested—no, that he had insisted she agree to last week opened her eyes to what he wanted.

  She had to cut all ties with Ned Durant. But she needed a strong man to run the JDB spread until she could find a man she could depend on to take Ned’s place.

  Trey could handle himself against Ned. She had no doubt about that.

  The question was, could she handle herself around Trey?

  He’d be at the Circle 46, and she’d be here. She wouldn’t have to deal with him on a day-to-day basis.

  She wouldn’t be tempted to expect more from him. Not again. She’d barely survived the consequences the last time with this man. But she had proof that her daddy had cut a deal with him, and there wasn’t one mention in the ledger of Trey taking his money when he’d left.

  She owed him, and she damned well intended to use him like he’d used her so many months ago.

  “Before you drive the herd to the Circle 46, I think you should ride over there and see that your plan is viable,” she said, and took a break in drafting her agreement with Trey March to give herself another chance to change her mind.

  Not that she would. It was just that being confined with him for this long had her nerves cracking like sheet lightning.

  She wanted him to take his stock and leave. She wanted to go through this ledger and see what else needed to be done. See what she’d missed. See what other surprises awaited her.

  “Aim to do that today,” he said, confirming he’d thought this through. “Cattle are going for around fifteen bucks a head now. Reckon with what Barton owes me, that comes to about one hundred and fifty head.”

  She nodded, but tallied it up just to make sure. He was right, though on the shy side. She didn’t take the lesser number as evidence of him being generous. Just the way things were done among cattlemen.

  “Take your pick once you get there,” she said.

  He didn’t answer right off, so she looked up at him. But he was staring out the window, and by the dark frown he wore she wondered what was going through his mind, if he even heard her.

  Trey had never shared much about himself, claiming there wasn’t much about him to tell. He’d spent much of his childhood in an orphanage and then ended up on a ranch in Wyoming. She never knew why or how that came about.

  Asking had never netted her an answer, for when she’d gotten too curious, he’d taken her mind off his past by loving her. When she was in his arms, she thought of nothing but him.

  A tremor raced throug
h her at the thought, unbidden and uncontrollable. She went still and stared at the telling squiggle left by her pen, standing out just like the error she’d made in thinking with her heart.

  This was a mistake, but a worse one would be accepting Ned’s proposal. Her stomach lurched at the thought, but she ignored her unease and read the contract again, wanting to be sure she’d worded it right.

  If Trey could find a loophole to claim more than agreed upon ... If he turned out to be as dishonest as Ned ... Hell, he could drive the entire herd off, and she’d not be the wiser.

  “Take Ramona’s son with you,” she said.

  “Manuel?”

  He snorted and jammed both hands in his back pockets, and she wondered how he could look recalcitrant and manly at the same time. Wondered why her mind wandered in that direction after the hell he’d put her through.

  “I’m not wet-nursing a boy on a cattle drive,” he said.

  “I’m not asking,” she said, glad her voice didn’t crack, glad she wasn’t visibly giving away the turmoil boiling inside her. “He’s seventeen, hardly a boy. If I recall, you said you were younger than that when you took up cowboying.”

  Trey’s lips thinned, and his dark eyes turned cold and hard as his heart. She held her breath, and she wondered if he’d tell her to forget it and walk out. He was so difficult to read.

  He didn’t give of himself. He always held something back. He wasn’t the staying type either. He’d already proven that to her. He’d left her to suffer shame and tragedy alone.

  “All right. Manuel comes with me,” he said at last.

  He seemed accepting of her request. But then he’d always taken the younger hands’ side in everything, which earned him more disfavor with Ned.

  Ned. She still had him to deal with.

  She took a breath but she still couldn’t relax. She wondered if she’d ever be able to again.

  Daisy slid the contract toward Trey. “If you’ll just sign this, we will be set to go.”

  Trey stepped closer, and she fought the impulse to shrink back. He angled the paper toward him with two fingers, going still as a statue.