Cavanaugh Cowboy

by Marie Ferrarella

  Sully didn’t bother looking at the menu. He left it right where it was. “No need to go to any trouble,” he told Miss Joan. “I just wanted to stop by to say thank you and to pay my respects—”

  “If you want to pay your respects,” Miss Joan informed him, cutting Sully off, “you’ll eat something like I said. Can’t have you wandering off with an empty belly.” She stopped and peered at him. “What are you grinning about?”

  Sully did a little self-editing before answering the woman. “Uncle Seamus said you had a way about you.”

  Miss Joan laughed and took a guess at the exchange between Seamus and his great-nephew.

  “Probably said I was like a stubborn mule,” she corrected. Seeing that Sully was about to deny her assumption, she said, “And he’s right. I am. So stop sitting there, giving me lip, and order something. The sooner you eat, the sooner we can get you out to the ranch.”

  “Then I can stay there?” Sully asked.

  He knew that his great-uncle had said that the woman had extended the invitation, but Sully still had his doubts that the invitation had actually been tendered. He really didn’t want to impose if she didn’t want him staying at the ranch. After all, from start to finish, this had all been Seamus’s idea, not his.

  “That’s what Seamus and I agreed on,” Miss Joan replied with an air of finality. And then her eyes bored into the young man before her. “Why, you change your mind about staying?”

  “No, ma’—Miss Joan.” Sully caught himself at the last moment again. “It’s just that I am surprised,” he admitted.

  “How so?” Miss Joan asked.

  She was aware that not just her two waitresses, but almost everyone within the diner at this point was paying attention to this handsome, dark-haired young man with the liquid green eyes. That he was oblivious to the attention he was garnering spoke well of him.

  “You don’t know me from Adam,” Sully replied. He was used to friendly people, but they all knew him. This situation was different.

  “Maybe I don’t,” Miss Joan admitted. “But I know Seamus, and he wouldn’t send me someone who wasn’t trustworthy, even if that someone turned out to be a relative of his.” And that was that in her book. “You got any other doubts that you’re wrestling with that I can put to rest?”

  A small hint of a smile curved the corners of Sully’s mouth. He shook his head. “None.”

  “Okay, then,” Miss Joan declared. “Let’s get your order out of the way and then, while Angel makes it for you, you can tell me all about what that sly devil of a man is up to these days.”

  Sully had a feeling that once he got back to Aurora, Seamus would ask him the same questions about Miss Joan. “Well, Uncle Seamus said to be sure to thank you for putting me up.”

  Miss Joan waved a thin, slightly blue-veined hand dismissively.

  “He already said that on the phone when he called. I’m interested in what he’d been doing for the last forty years before that phone call.” Then, because he didn’t begin to immediately answer, Miss Joan switched subjects like a rerouted runaway train and nodded at the menu she had placed in front of him. “Made up your mind yet?”

  The woman jumped around from topic to topic like a frog landing on hot lily pads, Sully thought. But even though he’d been in her company for less than ten minutes, he knew better than to make that observation to her. So instead, he made his selection.

  “I’ll have today’s special,” he told Miss Joan, pushing the menu to the side.

  Miss Joan didn’t bother turning the menu around. Though it changed every day, she knew the selections by heart.

  “Mandy,” she called over her shoulder, “tell Angel we need her special.” She fixed Sully with a look. “Rare, medium or well-done?”

  He preferred rare, but he knew that to some cooks, that meant almost raw, so he went the safe route. “Medium.”

  Miss Joan nodded, obviously approving his selection. “Good choice,” she pronounced. Glancing at the waitress she’d summoned, she saw that the young woman seemed rooted to the floor. Mandy was staring at Sully as if he was the most tempting ice cream sundae she had ever encountered. “Well, you heard the man, Mandy. Get a move on.”

  Coming to, Mandy mumbled, “Yes, Miss Joan.” The brunette spun on her heel and made her way through the kitchen’s double doors.

  Miss Joan didn’t bother suppressing the sigh that escaped her lips. There were times when the young women she took under her wing and into her employ could be a trial.

  Turning back to Sully, she said, “All right, that gives us a little time to kill. Tell me what that old man’s been up to.”

  The diner had slowly been filling up since he’d first walked in. Sully was aware of the way each and every one of the patrons who came in stared at him before they went to either a booth or one of the stools at the counter. But more than that, he was aware of their growing number.

  “Don’t you have to see to your patrons?” he asked Miss Joan, hoping to redirect her attention toward something else.

  The expression on Miss Joan’s face told him she knew exactly what he was up to. And she had an answer for that.

  “I own this place, Sully. That means that I get to do what I want whenever I want—within reason. Since I’ve got two girls taking orders and bringing them back, plus a third girl coming in about fifteen minutes from now, that means that right now, I get to ask questions and find out what that old Romeo is doing these days.”

  “Romeo?” Sully repeated incredulously.

  He had been just about to take a sip of the coffee Miss Joan had poured for him, and now he was glad that he hadn’t. Otherwise he was certain that he would have wound up choking on it. Or, at the very least, spitting that coffee out in a spray and making unplanned, unwanted contact with the man he’d just glanced at sitting on his left.

  “Your great-uncle,” Miss Joan clarified. “He might look like a harmless old man to you, but unless I miss my guess, there’s nothing harmless about him.” She fixed Sully with a deep, probing look. “Am I right?”

  She had that right, Sully thought, recalling Seamus’s recent history. His great-uncle was more active than men half his age.

  “Well, he gave retirement a try,” he told Miss Joan. “But then a few years back he showed up on Uncle Andrew’s doorstep one evening, saying that he just really wasn’t the retiring type and what he really wanted was to get back in the game.”

  Miss Joan didn’t seem surprised by the revelation. Despite her earlier question, she had never envisioned Seamus Cavanaugh quietly sitting in a rocking chair, watching life passing him by.

  “And did he?” she asked.

  “Well, since he couldn’t get back into the police department because of his age, he decided to start up his own firm,” Sully told the older woman. “At first, it was going to be a detective agency, but he realized that that might require a lot of stealth, undercover work and although he really hated to admit it, he wasn’t as quick or as spry on his feet as he once was. Running a security firm suited his needs far better.”

  Miss Joan’s deep, rich laugh echoed through the diner. “That sounds just like Seamus,” she said with something that sounded like affection. And then her tone shifted just a little as she asked Sully, “So what does his wife have to say about this newest undertaking of his?”

  “Nothing,” Sully answered. He saw Miss Joan’s expertly drawn-in eyebrows rise in a silent query, so he answered her question before she asked it. “His wife died more than ten years ago. That’s what prompted him to pack up and go live in a retirement community to start with. But a few years into that, Uncle Seamus decided that kind of life was just too stagnant for him.”

  “Humph,” Miss Joan reflected. “A retirement community would be too inert and soul killing for a man like Seamus,” she declared. She leaned in a little closer again. “So, how’s his firm doing? R
eally.”

  His great-uncle had just taken on another operative and he was still turning away business. Sully had to admit that the man was happier than he’d seen him in a long while. But that was something for Seamus to share with Miss Joan on his own.

  So Sully just replied, “Keeps him busy.”

  Miss Joan nodded, thinking. “Maybe once you’ve sorted out whatever it is that brought you down here, Harry and I will invite Seamus to come on out for a visit.”

  “Harry?” For a moment, Sully drew a blank. Was this someone in Forever, or from Seamus’s past?

  “My husband,” Miss Joan clarified, adding, “the man who finally wore me down and pushed a ring on my finger. Technically, the ranch you’ll be staying on is Harry’s. But the man’s got no more use for it than I do. So now we’ve got a foreman running things, and every once in a while,” she added like a recently remembered footnote, “we sell one of the horses bred there.”

  Mandy appeared at her elbow with a tray. “Angel sent out the lunch you asked for.”

  “I didn’t ask for it. He did,” Miss Joan corrected. Taking the tray from the waitress, the diner owner quickly distributed what was on there and placed it in front of Sully. “Here’s your lunch, boy. Hope it meets with your expectations.”

  The statement was politely worded, but there was no mistaking the confidence that was behind it. Miss Joan was expecting nothing short of a euphoric response from the first forkful to the last.

  Well, Sully thought, half amused, half bemused, he could always fake it if need be.

  He cut into the steak and eased the first piece into his mouth while Miss Joan watched him, waiting for his response.

  When flavor exploded in his mouth, he was slightly surprised and deeply relieved.

  “It’s good,” he told his great-uncle’s friend.

  “Of course it’s good,” Miss Joan answered. “I told you it would be. Were you expecting that it wouldn’t be?”

  “No, Miss Joan,” Sully answered politely, “I wasn’t expecting anything else except what you said.”

  Miss Joan merely smiled, knowing that he was humoring her. But given who he was and who his great-uncle was, she didn’t mind. She nodded her head. “You’ll do, boy. You’ll do.”

  Chapter 2

  Miss Joan smiled and nodded with approval as she cleared away the empty plates.

  “Well, for a man who didn’t want to eat anything, you certainly did justice to that steak and apple pie,” she commented, then swiped a cloth along the counter, getting rid of any lingering crumbs. Finished, she asked, “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Only if you want to watch me explode,” Sully answered.

  He placed his hand against his stomach as if he was trying to keep the contents inside from suddenly emerging.

  “Wouldn’t want to see that,” Miss Joan told him with a puckered expression. “All right then, if you can wait here for a while—no more than an hour—Harry said he can come by and bring you up to the J-H Ranch.”

  Sully saw no reason why he needed to be taken by the hand and escorted. “I don’t want to put you out any further,” he told Miss Joan. “I’m sure I can find the ranch on my own. Just point me in the right direction and tell me approximately how many miles the ranch is from here.”

  The lines along Miss Joan’s forehead furrowed, forming a skeptical pucker.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. She was used to townspeople finding their way around, but this was a tenderfoot, and she had no knowledge about his innate skills. “Because Harry won’t mind. The man loves company and he loves to talk. Says he doesn’t get much practice with me around. Something about sucking up all the oxygen in the room,” she added, shaking her head and dismissing her husband’s words.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Sully told her. He noticed that Mandy reached under the counter to take the dishes that Miss Joan had cleared away. The waitress lingered just long enough to look at him longingly. “Once I get settled in, I would love to meet with your husband, Miss Joan, but right now, I’m anxious to see where I’ll be hanging my hat for the next few weeks.”

  “You’re not just going to be hanging your hat,” Miss Joan informed him. She eyed Sully, trying to decide if he was just talking or if he was serious. If it was the latter, he needed to be set straight. “You understand that you’re going to be working for your keep once you’re at the ranch. My foreman doesn’t have much patience with people who don’t pull their own weight or are waiting to be served,” she told Sully.

  “Oh, I understand,” he answered, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings. “Uncle Seamus made the terms of this arrangement very clear, and to be honest, I’m really looking forward to working with my hands.”

  Miss Joan studied him for a moment, decided he was being honest and then nodded. “All right then, about those directions you wanted.”

  Flipping over the menu she had just used earlier, Miss Joan took out the pencil she had in her apron pocket. Using a minimum of strokes, she drew a very basic map for Sully that took him from the center of the town to edge of the ranch that she and Harry owned.

  Finished, she put the pencil back into her pocket with a flourish and let him have the map.

  “You sure you don’t want to wait for Harry?” she asked, looking at him somewhat dubiously.

  “No, this’ll do fine,” Sully assured her, tapping the map she had drawn for him.

  Miss Joan had never accepted anything at face value. This was no exception. “How often do you get lost?”

  “I don’t,” he said simply. “I just keep on going until I get there.”

  Her expression was only partially skeptical at this point.

  “All the same, I wouldn’t want to be the one responsible for losing one of Seamus’s great-grandkids, even if he does have a bunch of them to spare,” Miss Joan said.

  “You won’t be.” His tone was final, indicating that the discussion was at an end. Sully reached into his pocket again, this time to take out his wallet. He was about to flip the folded leather open. “How much do I owe you for lunch?”

  Miss Joan’s face darkened, like clouds gathering in the sky just before a storm. “You take your hand out of your pocket, boy, or your journey’s going to be over before it ever gets started,” she warned him. Under her watchful eye, Sully did as he was told—for now. “Nothing was said about there being a charge for lunch.”

  Still, Sully’s hand lingered by his pocket. “I’d feel better paying my own way.”

  “And I’d feel better if I were twenty years younger, but we can’t all get what we wish for,” Miss Joan snapped. “Now get going. And be sure to tell Rae I sent you.”

  “Ray?” Sully asked.

  Miss Joan nodded. “That’s the foreman. Rae Mulcahy. Otherwise you might find yourself being shot for trespassing.”

  He should have known, Sully thought. People out here stripped things down to the basics.

  “Right. I’ll introduce myself first thing,” he promised the woman. “Thank you for lunch, Miss Joan. It really was every bit as good as you said.”

  She accepted her due. “Of course it was. You don’t stay in business as long as I have by lying to people. Don’t let Rae work you too hard,” she told him as an afterthought as Seamus’s great-nephew began to leave the diner.

  Sully’s mouth curved a little as he took in her warning. “Not possible,” he replied just before he took his leave.

  * * *

  The twenty-some-odd mile trip to the J-H Ranch went by so quickly, Sully found that he was there before he realized it. If it weren’t for the tall wooden gate proclaiming the ranch’s name, he wouldn’t even have known that he had reached his destination. He would have just thought he was out on the open range.

  Part of the problem was that the land had a sameness to it that didn’t set apart one area from another.


  Getting out of the 4x4 truck he had rented at the airport when he had landed here in Texas, Sully opened the gate. Getting back in, he drove through to the other side, then got out a second time in order to close the gate behind him. He didn’t want to accidentally allow one of the horses to escape, although right now, he saw no sign of any kind of life forms in the vicinity.

  Well, you said you wanted a change, right? Sully asked himself. And this is certainly a change.

  While Aurora wasn’t a bustling metropolis the way Los Angeles and San Francisco were, it was definitely not anywhere nearly as deserted-looking and desolate as the land just outside of Forever was.

  A person really had to be comfortable in their own skin to live out here, Sully thought. Otherwise, they could easily go stir-crazy inside of a day and a half.

  Maybe two if they were particularly well-adjusted, he mused.

  For a moment, he seriously considered turning the truck around, returning to the airport and catching a flight back to civilization.

  The moment passed.

  He was here, he silently argued, and Seamus seemed to think that being here would help him get through this unsettled part of his existence. He might as well at least meet this ranch foreman who was going to put him to work the second he set foot on the property.

  He glanced at Miss Joan’s map that he had placed on the passenger seat in the truck. It looked as if the ranch house was straight ahead—wherever that was.

  Sully drove more than a mile beyond the gate before he finally caught sight of the ranch house. There looked to be another structure some distance behind it. He guessed it was either the barn or the stable.

  He still didn’t have all these ranching terms straight, he thought and wondered if Miss Joan’s foreman would cut him some slack until he got oriented. He hoped the man didn’t turn out to be one of these smug characters that built up his ego on the carcasses of workers he put down.