A Cowboy for Christmas

by Cat Johnson

  “And I may be out of line here, but I have to say this,” Mr. Stern continued. “Jake was a friend as well as a client, for many years. The only person in this room, the only soul named in this will I’ve seen show any emotion or grief over Jake’s loss is Mr. Boyd. In my mind, that says something. So does the fact he spent Thanksgiving, and from what I was told, all holidays with Jake at the ranch when the rest of his family was absent.”

  Jocelyn drew in a sharp breath, as if the lawyer’s words physically stung.

  “My sister and I will want DNA proof.” J.J. crossed his arms and shot Bonner a look.

  Mr. Stern nodded. “Of course. It’s your right to request the court subpoena a sample of Mr. Boyd’s DNA for comparison to Jake’s. I held the reading of the will before Jake’s internment because I expected you might. Though I’d be remiss to not point out the in terrorem clause. It says that should you contest the will and lose, you forfeit your entire portion of the estate. Furthermore, even if you do successfully contest the will, Colorado’s intestacy laws will still apply.”

  Bonner stared at the attorney, who might as well have been speaking a foreign language.

  Mr. Stern continued, “That provides that even if the will is discredited and thrown out of Surrogate Court, the next of kin by marriage, adoption or blood inherit. That means if a DNA sample proves Mr. Boyd is blood, he will still inherit. Knowing that, will you both still be contesting?”

  “So you’re saying if we contest the will and lose, we lose absolutely everything to him. And even if win, but DNA proves he’s blood, he still gets his share?”

  “That’s correct.” Mr. Stern nodded. “And keep in mind, the law requires the wishes of the testator be honored, unless it’s proven that he lacked the mental capacity. So to win, you’ll have to prove in court that Jake Maverick, a man well-known and respected in both the business and the ranching worlds, was mentally incapable at the time this will was drawn one month ago. Do you still want to take this to court, Mr. Maverick?”

  “No, Mr. Stern. I, for one, won’t be contesting the will.” Scowling, J.J. glanced at his sister.

  A stricken expression on her face, Jocelyn shook her head. “Neither will I.”

  “The old man sure got the last laugh, didn’t he?” J.J. stood and let out a snort. “I can tell you this. It’s a damn good thing we at least got a share of the ranch, because with an uneducated cowboy at the helm, Maverick Western is as good as sunk.”

  As hurtful as those words were, the only thing J.J. had done was voice out loud what Bonner feared himself deep down. How the hell was he going to pull this off?

  * * * *

  Bonner arrived back at the ranch still in a daze. He found Mrs. Jones standing in the front hall, arms crossed. “Well, well, well. Got any instructions for me, boss.”

  His brows rose. “You heard?”

  “Couldn’t avoid hearing. First J.J. called his wife and told her all about it. He must have called from the car because it weren’t but fifteen minutes after the time they were to meet with the lawyer. Then Jocelyn got on J.J.’s cell phone and said to get the kids ready, they wouldn’t be spending the night under this roof now that it belonged to a lying imposter. They swooped in here and stormed off for a hotel.”

  Mr. Stern had been right to suspect they wouldn’t take it well. Hell, Bonner wasn’t handling it that great himself. He’d stopped at the bar in town and downed a shot and a beer before heading home, just to be able to deal with it all. It was crazy. Though Mrs. Jones seemed just fine with the sudden revelation of his Maverick bloodline.

  He looked at her. “So you know it all, then?”

  “Yup.”

  “And only fifty-one percent of the ranch belongs to me, not the whole thing,” Bonner corrected. God, this was surreal.

  “Yeah, I heard that too. And how if they demanded a test they could end up losing it all. Said it wasn’t worth the gamble.” Mrs. Jones’s tone and expression of disgust told him her low opinion of J.J. and Jocelyn. “I can tell you this. I’ve been here a very long time and I don’t need no stinking test to tell me you’re a Maverick. I think you don’t either.”

  “I don’t know anything anymore.” He shook his head and sunk onto the bench along the wall in the front hall. “What am I gonna do?”

  Mrs. Jones frowned. “What do you mean, what are you gonna do? You’re gonna be the man Jake knew you to be. You’re gonna run this ranch the way you always have.”

  “And what about Maverick Western? He named me president. What do I know about that?”

  “You’re sharp. You’ll learn. Besides, I know somebody who’s pretty good at this business stuff, and she happens to be on your side in all this.”

  Bonner glanced up. “Who?”

  “Miss Casey. She called here, you know. Said she was going to fly in for the funeral tomorrow except that J.J. had a memo sent out to all employees saying it was a small private service for family only. Bastard.” She moved closer and pulled an envelope out of the pocket of her apron.

  Once he’d recovered from both the shock of Mrs. Jones cussing and the mention of Casey’s name, Bonner took the envelope and read his name written across it in feminine script. In the return address he saw Casey Harrington and a New York City address. His instincts told him to read it in private.

  He stashed the envelope in his jacket pocket. “I’m going to have to go to the New York headquarters.”

  The only thing that made him happy about that was Casey being there. God, he needed to wrap his arms around her and forget about all this, just for a little while. It was damn presumptuous of him to assume she’d be willing. They hadn’t spoken since she’d left, but he needed some hope to cling to, to get him through this.

  “Yup. You are. You can fly back and forth once a month just like Jake used to. He did it, so can you.”

  “I guess.” Bonner wished he were as sure.

  “The wake’s tonight. You know what you’re wearing? You need me to press anything for you?”

  Mrs. Jones’s mention of the wake reminded Bonner that the viewing of the body at the funeral home was tonight. He’d managed to forget about that. The wake and the funeral should both be a real joy considering how Jocelyn and J.J. felt about him now.

  “I haven’t given a thought about what to wear.” Bonner shook his head. “And you don’t have to wait on me because some piece of paper in a lawyer’s office says I’m in charge.” He scowled at the idea of being responsible for anything more than Justus and Dakota and the four hundred head.

  “Don’t you worry. I’m not taking care of you because you’re the boss now. I’m helping you because you look like you need it. Besides, I already cook and clean for you. What’s a little laundry or ironing too?” She shrugged.

  She was right. She’d been taking care of him for a long time now. He let out a short sad laugh at that realization. “Then you might as well tell me what I should wear too, because I have no clue.”

  “Tonight, I think clean jeans, your good boots and a nice shirt is fine. Tomorrow you’re going to have to be in a suit.”

  Bonner glanced up. “I don’t own a suit.”

  “No, but the old man does. A bunch of nice ones. You’re his size.”

  “I am?”

  “Yup. Maybe a little broader in the arms, but I think you’ll fit in the jacket just fine. You didn’t know you two wore the same size?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Apparently there were all sorts of things he didn’t know, including he was kin and heir to the Maverick throne. It had been one hell of a day. Forget that, it had been one hell of a week, and it wasn’t done yet.

  “I’ll go pick one and you can try it on.”

  Bonner drew in and blew out a slow breath. “Okay.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. There’s a memo for you. I heard it come through on the fax machine this afternoon.”

  Bonner laughed. It was surreal. His life. Jake’s will. This new influx of memos. “All right.”


  She handed him a folded piece of paper. He opened it and saw the corporate letterhead.

  “It’s not for me. It says it’s for the Maverick family, from Jake’s assistant, Dean.”

  Mrs. Jones’s brows rose sharply. “And? What are you?”

  “Jake’s family.” Bonner sighed, and then skimmed the text. What he read had him feeling his new responsibilities even more keenly.

  He glanced up at Mrs. Jones. “Did you read it?”

  She let out a snort. “Of course, I did. It’s my job to know what’s happening around here.”

  “The New York office has already received a hundred thousand messages of condolence. Letters. Emails. And he says he can’t even begin to count the number of posts on the social media sites Casey set up.” Bonner felt the weight of every one of those messages bearing down on him, making it hard to breathe. “A hundred thousand. How can I live up to that? To the man he was?”

  Bonner had only known he was a Maverick in blood, if not in name, for such a short time. He still wasn’t sure what to do with that news. It wasn’t public knowledge yet, but if J.J. and Jocelyn changed their minds and brought this to court, his birthright would come out publicly. Hell, even if they didn’t contest the will, they might decide to be spiteful and bring it to the press. Even a sixty-year-old scandal could take down a company based on family values.

  “You can do this, Bonner. I have faith in you. The old man did too.”

  “How can I do this?” He looked to her for help she couldn’t possibly give.

  “Well, things have been going pretty good for the past hundred years. Maybe you should look to the past. Let it guide you for the future.” Mrs. Jones delivered that advice as if it was the answer to all his problems.

  “Look to the past. That’s real philosophical.” Bonner shook his head. “And then?”

  “You’ll figure it out. I’ll go get you that suit.”

  Bonner sat alone after she left, not sure he had the energy to move. He remembered the note in his pocket and took it out. Sliding his callused finger beneath the flap, he tore open the envelope and pulled out a card.

  “Bonner. I know what a loss Jake’s death is to you. You’re in my thoughts. Call if you need anything at all. Casey.”

  She included her number written beneath her name. It was all Bonner could do to stop himself from dialing it. The only thing that did stop him was the certainty that hearing her voice and having her try to comfort him after the day he’d had would break him for sure. He rose from the settee and prepared himself to try on Jake’s suit. It seemed he’d be not only stepping into the old man’s shoes at the company, he’d be filling his suit as well.

  After getting over the surreal shock of looking at his reflection in the mirror while he wore Jake’s suit, he somehow made it through the rest of the evening. There was the dinner Mrs. Jones forced upon him even though he had no appetite. That was followed by the wake and the killer looks from his newfound family members. Then questions from Justus and Dakota when he arrived back at the bunkhouse. He felt bad doing it but he kept the truth about his Maverick connection from them, for the time being anyway.

  Finally, Bonner crashed and somehow, thankfully, he slept.

  The next thing he was aware of was the bright light of morning creeping in through the window. He never slept past sunrise, yet one look at the clock in his room told him it was well past, and that he’d missed breakfast.

  Groaning, he swung his feet to the floor. Today was not the day to oversleep. Besides his regular chores, there was Jake’s funeral to deal with, not to mention his very unhappy Maverick relatives.

  He threw on some work clothes and headed outside, where he encountered Justus and Dakota with a tail-wagging Misty tagging behind them.

  Justus clamped his hat lower onto his head as a gust of wind threatened to take it. “Blue. We got a storm moving in. It’s predicted to hit tomorrow.”

  Dakota folded his gloved hands beneath his arms against the cold. “It’s supposed to dump two feet of snow on us over a twenty-four hour period.”

  “Shit. Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” The to-do list grew in Bonner’s head. They’d have to move the herd and get prepared for the storm. That much snow was not only a bitch to deal with, it was dangerous. It could be deadly for both man and beast. Usually Bonner could sense a big storm moving in even before the weatherman announced it. That he hadn’t felt this one was proof of how preoccupied he’d been.

  Dakota shrugged. “We thought you needed the rest after all the shit going on.”

  Bonner shook his head. “Well, next time don’t think.”

  Now was not the time to rest. He had to handle both his own duties, plus Jake’s. He’d have to consider hiring on another hand. If Bonner was going to replace Jake, then he’d have to hire someone to replace himself. One thing was sure, the trip to New York would have to wait until the storm passed. Maybe his priorities were messed up, but the herd and the ranch came first.

  “All right, Blue.” Justus nodded, looking suitably reprimanded by the tone that came out sharper than Bonner meant it to.

  “Mrs. Jones put a plate aside for you since you missed breakfast.” Dakota supplied that information like a peace offering.

  “Thanks.” Bonner nodded and turned toward the house.

  Maybe some hot coffee and breakfast would make him feel a little less ornery. At least he’d feel less like he was sleepwalking in a waking nightmare.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was a good thing Casey was sitting down when she read the email, because otherwise, she’d have fallen over. The old man had named Bonner his successor, and he’d be coming to the New York offices to begin assuming his responsibilities.

  It didn’t make sense. Bonner in New York seemed about as farfetched to her as Bonner on the moon. Then again, Jake Maverick was cowboy to the bone too, just like Bonner, and he’d transitioned very well from ranch to city, every month when he flew in for meetings. In the interim, his assistant here at headquarters kept him up to date on what was happening.

  Dean, Jake’s assistant—actually, now he’d be Bonner’s assistant—was probably her best bet for finding out more about this crazy turn of events.

  Casey’d had some interaction with Dean, but it had always been through email. Today, Casey decided to pay the man a visit. She’d be better able to feel him and the situation out in person. She found him in his office, in a state of organized chaos.

  The sheer number of cardboard boxes filled with cards and letters had her pausing in the doorway. “Um, hi.”

  A guy probably not long out of college glanced up, a harrowed expression on his face. “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so.” She pasted on a friendly smile to charm him and dared to enter the room. She tiptoed her high heels around a few boxes and stopped near his desk. “I was wondering if you could tell me Mr. Boyd’s schedule. When is he scheduled to be here in the offices? I’m Casey Harrington, by the way. I spent a week at the ranch working with him in October.”

  Casey extended her hand. He raised his own off the computer’s mouse only long enough to shake hers. For a brief moment, Casey feared he wouldn’t give her any information, but the guy looked so overwhelmed at the moment, he didn’t blink an eye at her question.

  “Ms. Harrington. Of course. I booked your travel for that trip.” He glanced down at a sticky note on his keyboard. “Mr. Boyd is flying in December sixteenth and will be in New York until the twenty-third. I’ll sure be happy to have him here. Maybe he can tell me what to do with all these sympathy cards.” Dean glanced down at the clutter encroaching on his personal space.

  That explained what was in all the boxes that threatened to consume Dean’s office, but what stuck out most for Casey were the dates he’d mentioned. December sixteenth was next week. Bonner would be there the very next week. So soon.

  Casey swallowed hard at the thought of seeing him again. “Wow, just before Christmas. The airports are going to be crazy this
time of year.”

  Not Yampa Valley Regional, but certainly the New York airports, not to mention the city itself, will be packed with holiday travelers. Talk about trial by fire. Bonner’s first exposure to New York was going to be quite an experience.

  “Probably but it’s the soonest he could get away from the ranch and he wanted to get here before the holidays rather than wait until January. Damn, I still haven’t booked the car service to pick him up at the airport.” He picked up his phone and started flipping through the holder packed to bursting with business cards. As Casey continued to hover near the desk, Dean glanced up. “I’m sorry, Ms. Harrington. Was there anything else I can help you with?”

  “No, thank you, but maybe I can help you.” Casey didn’t want Bonner’s first sight in New York to be a stranger from the car service holding a sign with his name scribbled on it.

  She smiled and prepared to charm Dean into letting her pick up Bonner at the airport. Her heart raced at the thought. She only hoped he’d be as happy to see her again as she would be to see him.

  * * * *

  At the airport, Casey began to tremble as she first caught sight of the cowboy hat. It seemed to float above the crowd pouring down the hallway leading away from the gate of the flight arriving from Denver International. From her position outside of the security checkpoint, she couldn’t see a face yet, but it had to be Bonner. She just knew it.

  The stream of people scattered and dispersed, and then there he was, looking just as she remembered him, but at the same time, totally different. She had a moment to take him in before he spotted her—his hat and cowboy boots looked comfortingly familiar, but the dark suit he wore threw her off. Bonner in a suit was a strange though certainly not a bad sight. He looked good. Very good.

  Of course his face was just as she remembered, except that his expression was more somber, maybe a bit concerned. A frown creased his brow as he gazed up at the signs pointing the direction to the baggage claim and ground transportation. When his familiar blue eyes opened wide as they focused on her standing near the escalator, Casey knew he’d seen her. She smiled and when he smiled back she knew she’d made the right decision to collect him herself.