A Cowboy in Shepherd's Crossing

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Yes. Good prices, great reputation and quick start date.”

  “Do I need to leave the house?” Gilda asked.

  Jace frowned.

  Melonie got the gist more quickly. “You should be fine, but it will be noisy, Gilda. Why don’t you come over to Pine Ridge during the day until it’s done? It shouldn’t take them more than a week. We’d be happy to have you.”

  “You can tell when someone’s new in town, because not too many hand me invites these days,” the old woman grumbled, but she looked less grumpy. “I might just do that. I don’t do well with a lot of noise.”

  “Rosie might bring the girls by with Corrie. And her newborn baby. That can get real noisy.”

  “There’s noise and then there’s noise, young man, and while I can probably hold my own rockin’ a baby, electric air hammers and drills aren’t friendly to a woman my age.” She faced Melonie more squarely. “I will accept your kind invitation, Melonie.”

  “Lovely. I’ll let the others know.” Melonie squeezed her hand gently. “And we’ll have tea on the porch in the afternoon.”

  “Something to look forward to.”

  He looked Melonie’s way when they’d climbed into the cab of his pickup truck. “You’ve got that sugarcoated, sweet-tea-offering Southern persona down well.”

  She frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “Back there.” He gestured as he turned the truck around. “Come to the ranch? Have tea on the porch? That’s pure Kentucky, isn’t it?”

  “Or it’s simple kindness to an infirm, elderly woman who’s about to embrace a huge undertaking and trusts us to oversee it,” she argued mildly. “She’s grown old, seen the error of her ways and had a change of heart. Isn’t that the basis for some of the best stories? The prodigal son. The woman in the street, about to be stoned. I love stories of redemption.”

  So did he. But not when the old person’s solace came at the cost of his family’s joy. How were he and Justine supposed to react to all of this, knowing their parents had woven a web of dishonesty around their lives? “Easy to say when it’s not your life being affected.”

  She made a face, a kind of cute face of self-doubt. “You’re right about that because if my father came to beg forgiveness for all his misdeeds, I’d be in a flux. A parent should only be allowed so much latitude. And then they lose the right to call themselves parents.”

  “Then the same holds true for grandparents.”

  She shook her head. Was she being intentionally obtuse? Or trying to fluster him? “Advanced age cuts them slack. They were raised in a different way. A different time. We have to be mindful of that. This forest is just gorgeous,” she added, smoothly changing the subject. “Like being in the Appalachians, but different, too. Not as many deciduous trees.”

  “Being this high and this far north changes what grows.” He mulled her words as they headed for the lumberyard in McCall, unwilling to let the topic go. “You think the older the person, the more forgiving we should be.”

  She was tapping notes into her notebook. She paused as he rolled to a stop at a four-way and slanted him a look. “I think we should always be forgiving but I’m about the world’s worst example so let’s not go there. If I never saw my father again, I’d probably be okay with that, which means I’ve hardened my heart, mostly for self-preservation. But you.” She closed the notebook and set it aside. “You had a wonderful life. A beautiful family. You’re so skilled at all the trades your father loved. Ranching. Carpentry. Building. You said yourself that he kept you by his side all along.”

  He nodded as the home store came into view.

  “Gilda might be the worst grandmother ever, but she made sure you had great opportunities. That can’t be discounted.”

  He scowled. “Around these parts, we expect folks to do what they’re supposed to do. All the time.” He pulled into the parking lot and shoved the truck into Park before it was fully stopped, making it jerk.

  She rolled her eyes. “If we need extra lumber we could always get it from that full-size chip on your shoulder.” She slung her purse up, got out, then faced him as they rounded the truck.

  “So is that whole sweet, Southern-woman image some kind of joke?” he asked. “Or do we only pull it out for grumpy old ladies?” He folded his arms and stared her down.

  Looking up, she met his gaze without wavering and he wished he didn’t like her panache. Yet he did. “Clearly you missed Steel Magnolias and Fried Green Tomatoes.”

  She folded her arms, too. “Let me tell you something. This Southern gal is going to help you get that house in order so that you can create a family with those perfectly adorable little girls. Be the father they would never have had if their mother stayed. A father like the one you had, Jace.”

  Her words hit the mark like a well-balanced nail gun.

  She walked toward the store, head high.

  A father like he had.

  A blessed, wonderful man who showed goodness and kindness all of his days. Strong but loving and forgiving.

  He hated that she was right. At some point he’d have to admit that.

  He rubbed the nape of his neck as she cruised through that door, wishing she didn’t look so good. The way she stood her ground with him made him almost look forward to sparring with her again.

  If he wasn’t careful he was going to find himself knee-deep in attraction with another unattainable woman, and that couldn’t happen. But when he walked through the doors and caught her guarded expression, what he longed to do was make her smile again.

  And that was a danger-laden emotion.

  * * *

  “You’ll come with me to my bridal fitting tomorrow, won’t you?” Lizzie asked Melonie that evening. “If you can tear yourself away from Jace... I mean his project, of course.”

  Melonie purposely ignored her sister’s intentional gaffe. “Yes, if you guys don’t mind dropping me off at his place on the way back. As much fun as this all is—” she swept the busy ranch yard and house a quick look “—it’s not quiet enough for me to design what I need for Gilda’s place, and I’ve got two weeks to get my overall plan in order. By then, Jace should be done with his house and we can dive into the Hardaway place. But I’m going to need every minute of focus I can get.”

  “You think construction is quiet?”

  Melonie laughed. “I can work upstairs while he’s remodeling the first floor. The sound of tools won’t bother me, but kids, people, doors banging, horses... I’d be distracted.”

  “I think you’re going to be somewhat distracted at Jace’s place, too, but what do I know?” Lizzie ducked away from the couch pillow Melonie flung at her, then grinned. “We’ll be happy to drop you off after the fitting.”

  “Perfect.” It wasn’t exactly perfect because Lizzie was right. Avoiding Jace would be in her best interests, and yet...she didn’t want to. And she was grown up enough to keep things under wraps because as cool as Pine Ridge Ranch was, it wasn’t exactly quiet. Unless she hid out in the small apartment, and being that close to huge horses wasn’t about to make the short list. “I can’t wait to see you in the dress.”

  Lizzie sighed. “Me, either. Can you believe it? Us here and me about to be married to the love of my life?”

  “I heard that, which means you want something.” Heath braced himself with one arm on the side of the wooden screen door, then jerked his head. “Come walking with me. Let’s see what that first full moon of summer holds.”

  “I’d walk in the moon’s light with you anytime, cowboy.”

  Melonie stuck out her tongue at them. “Go, lovebirds. Some of us have work to do.”

  Heath opened the door. As Lizzie stepped through, he leaned down for a kiss...then took her hand, leading her into the moonlit yard looking so utterly in love that Melonie’s heart wanted to break into a million little lonely pieces.

  “Please
tell me that angst isn’t directed at me.”

  Jace’s voice surprised her. He must have come down the back stairs. She dipped her chin toward the laptop, choking back emotion and biting back tears. “No angst. Just getting ideas down.”

  She felt him watching her.

  She hoped he’d go outside or back to the kitchen. He’d been tucking the girls into bed with Corrie, and the whole process had taken a long time.

  He didn’t leave.

  He moved her way. “Are the plan ideas giving you a rough time? I might be able to help.” He took a seat across from her and when she drew her gaze up, he seemed genuinely concerned. “I’m no designer but I’m good at knowing what will and won’t work if you’ve hit a bad spot.”

  “It’s not the design aspects.”

  He frowned, then followed her gaze to where Lizzie and Heath had paused for yet another kiss. “Ah.”

  Her forehead knitted instantly. “Ah, nothing.”

  “Hey.” He splayed his hands and shifted his eyebrows up, intentionally dubious. “I find the whole thing annoying, too. Happy people, planning their lives. What is the matter with them?”

  “Stop. You’re not helping.” He was, though. Laughing at the situation was way better than crying over being dumped by a ladder-climbing young executive back in Louisville.

  “You’re talking to a man who got left at the altar.”

  Now she stared at him because she couldn’t begin to imagine that.

  “True story. It was not my best day.”

  What a wretched thing to do to anyone, and the idea that it happened to him seemed outrageous. “Then the girl was clearly stupid and not meant for you, because what woman in their right mind would do that, Jace?”

  He laughed. “My thoughts exactly, but she did and it took me months of embarrassment to figure out she did me a favor.” He jutted his chin toward the ranch yard. “I watched Heath lose his wife and struggle with a newborn baby, a full-time job here on the ranch and grief. It wasn’t pretty and there was nothing I could do to help my best friend. And when Camryn left me at the altar, he tried to help, but there’s not much other folks can do. Except be patient. Be kind. And praying’s never a bad choice.”

  “I’m getting closer to that whole did-me-a-favor mind-set,” she confessed. “When my family’s publishing company was closed down, my job was gone and I had a bunch of debt ascribed to me by the courts. My ex wanted no part of that.”

  “So he did do you a favor. He didn’t deserve you.”

  “Well...”

  “No arguing,” he scoffed. “It’s fact. If a man isn’t smart enough to love you for yourself, who needs him?”

  It sounded so right coming from him. “So we’re the walking wounded?”

  “My scars are healed, but I am most assuredly gun-shy,” he said firmly. “Between your uncle’s illness and the ranch, we’ve been so busy the past couple of years that it didn’t much matter.”

  “The shortage of women might have made them easier to avoid,” she noted, smiling.

  “Shortage of people in general, which spurred lost job opportunities here.” He stood and rolled his shoulders, easing kinks, and she tried to pretend he didn’t look absolutely amazing when he did it. “Now with kids to raise, my focus needs to be on them.”

  “Agreed.” She stood, too.

  He stayed right there, looking at her.

  She looked right back.

  “So why is my focus longing to shift, Melonie?” He whispered the words as he gazed at her. Her lips. Then her eyes. Then her lips again.

  A half step forward. That’s all it would take to see... To test this attraction. It was a half step she didn’t dare take. “Stop that.”

  He smiled. Raised one hand to her cheek. The feel of his palm, so strong. So tough. So rugged. As if she could nestle the curve of her face into his hand, his shoulder and stay there...forever?

  Her phone rang.

  She took that half step then, in the opposite direction. “You.” She pointed at him, scolding. “I don’t play games. Take your crazy cute cowboy self out of here so I can work.” She tapped the phone to take the call, as if talking to her newly graduated veterinarian sister back in New York was vital. “Hi, yes, it’s Melonie, may I put you on hold for just a moment?”

  Jace left.

  But he left whistling, his hands loose at his sides, as if Charlotte wasn’t the only thing put on hold. Maybe she should hole up in the equine apartment to work, after all. “Char, thanks. I just had to finish a meeting with a client.”

  “You’ve been there a few days and already you have clients? Color me surprised.”

  “There are plenty of surprises out here, believe me. When are you coming?”

  “Not for two weeks. I’m following up on a few horses here and my reciprocity paperwork should allow me to open my mobile veterinary practice there by mid-July.”

  “I know that’s the plan, but there aren’t a lot of people here,” Melonie told her. “There might not be much actual work.”

  “Then I’ll consider every little bit a blessing. I can’t get large animal experience without hanging a shingle. How’d you snag a client so quickly?”

  Melonie filled her in.

  Charlotte sighed. “This whole crazy family dynamic seems to be epidemic, doesn’t it? What’s up with that?”

  “I don’t know.” Melonie tucked her toes beneath a throw pillow as the evening temperatures dipped. “I see the mistakes in all of it, but Jace—he’s the cowboy construction guy—ended up with the nicest family. Great parents. He loves his sister. So maybe she did him a favor, after all?”

  Charlotte stayed quiet for a moment. Then she partially agreed. “Maybe. That’s a fairly Pollyannaish outlook, isn’t it?”

  “I love Pollyanna.”

  Charlotte laughed. “I know you do. I just think that while it’s nice to be optimistic, it’s good to be on your guard, too. Like twenty-four/seven. Three hundred and sixty-five days.”

  “How’d you get so jaded for such a young person?”

  “Twenty-six isn’t all that young. And my plans for living a bucolic life in some posh Southern practice where little old ladies dote on their puppies have been dashed, so bear with me.”

  “You’d die of boredom and you know it. You’re the adventurer among us. And you actually like big animals.”

  “Love ’em. So this crash course on an upstate New York big animal practice has been good for me. And downright dirty. Overalls and muck boots are my new wardrobe.”

  Melonie laughed as Jace came into view again. He and a couple of the men were talking in the yard, gesturing toward the hills, the hayfield, the pastures. When Lady came up alongside, seeking attention, Jace didn’t think twice. He reached down, still talking, and gave the former stray dog a good petting.

  “Just as well. The little old ladies out here are a breed apart.”

  Charlotte laughed. “That must make Corrie happy.”

  “Let’s just say she’s not one of a kind in the rugged north.”

  “Oops, gotta go—a call out from a farm and it’s late here. Hope they’ve got decent lighting.”

  Melonie ended the call and set down the phone.

  She needed to dive into the broad scheme for Mrs. Hardaway’s house. She needed—

  The men began walking away.

  Jace spotted her watching. And for long, slow ticks of the living room clock, they locked eyes again.

  Was his heart skipping beats like hers? Were his palms growing damp?

  Stop this. You know better. You know your plans. You’re leaving here as soon as you’ve secured your inheritance. His life is here. Yours isn’t. And there are two baby girls to consider.

  Her conscience delivered the wake-up call she needed. She wasn’t here for a rebound romance. She was here to help the ranch a
nd if the Good Lord saw fit to toss a possibly career-changing job into her lap, so be it. She’d had to leave her chance once. She wasn’t going to mess it up a second time.

  She shifted her attention back to the computer. She needed to keep things all business with Jace, and avoid those sweet baby girls, even if their big blue eyes and winsome smiles called to her.

  They had Corrie and Rosie to mind them. And Jace. With a big job before her, she could keep the babies with the more experienced women. The hard part would be keeping all three of them—Jace and those little girls—at an emotional distance.

  Chapter Eight

  “Melonie gave you a list?” Heath grinned as Jace loaded garden tools into the bed of his pickup truck the next morning. When he tossed in two rolls of landscape fabric, Heath’s smile stretched wider. “Pretty domestic for just meeting the girl, isn’t it?”

  “All part of the makeover,” Jace replied smoothly. He aimed a stern look Heath’s way. “Are you helping me demolish those two walls or not?”

  “Getting to use a sledgehammer and wreck stuff?” Heath flexed. “I’m all in. And this is way more fun than I’d anticipated before a certain Fitzgerald sister rolled into town. Wearing silk, I might add.”

  Melonie and her fancy pants. No one around here wore fancy pants like that. He might actually hate them if she didn’t look so good in them. “Do you think she even owns blue jeans?”

  “Well, we know she’s got leggings.” Heath tipped his gaze to the three women, moving toward the ranch SUV parked next to Jace’s truck.

  Jace had tried not to notice, but when someone looked as good as Melonie Fitzgerald, only a blind man would be immune. “You gals heading to Boise?”

  “There’s a shortage of wedding-gown seamstresses around here, so yes.” It was Lizzie who answered. Melonie stayed quiet on the opposite side of the vehicle. “Mel said you guys are tearing down two walls today?”

  Heath flexed again, making the women laugh. “We’ve got this. They dropped off the Dumpster yesterday afternoon. We’re on a mission.”

  “You remember which two walls, right?” Melonie asked.