Big Chance Cowboy

by Teri Anne Stanley

  The surprise didn’t do much to ease the anxiety attack waiting to drag him under, and he didn’t answer her as he opened his door to get out. He was even more shocked when she shoved him against the front bumper of his truck. “What the hell?” he asked.

  She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You. Are. A. Dim. Witted. Jerkface.”

  “What?”

  “I just got off the phone with Lizzie, and she told me what’s going on. What exactly are you trying to accomplish?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “You have some nerve, marching into town like a—a monarch butterfly and trying to run my life!”

  A monarch butterfly? He put that aside and focused on her complaint. “I don’t want to run your life. I want to help you fix it.”

  “It’s not broken!” She held up a hand to forestall the protest on his lips. “Lizzie told me what you think, and it’s horse hockey. My mistakes are my mistakes. You already bailed me out once, and that was too much. I’m a grown-ass woman, not a helpless fawn.”

  He’d gotten so caught up in her animal metaphors that it took him a moment to realize she’d run out of breath. Then he had to process what she was telling him.

  “You’re mad at me for wanting to help you?”

  “Yes!” She frowned. “Well, not totally. I’m grateful to you for helping when Todd and I got in trouble, and I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you home in Big Chance.”

  He flinched. He probably should have been clearer about his plans to leave as soon as he could, but most of the time he’d spent with Emma, they’d been talking about Granddad.

  “I wish I’d been here for you and Todd—I only talked to him a few times after he got out of the army, but I knew something was off. If I’d been here, I could have jumped in and—”

  “And what? Made me abandon the love of my life? Talked me into reneging on that whole ‘for better or worse’ business?”

  Whoa. It must have been bad if she’d even considered leaving Todd. “What exactly happened with him? You never really told me what—”

  “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. That’s not what we’re talking about.”

  He should have been here. Then he’d know. He could have—what, told her how to run her life? Like she thought he wanted to do now? He tried to explain. “You’ve practically been tied to Granddad since Todd died. He’s getting to a place where he needs specialized care.”

  She shook her head, even as her shoulders slumped. “Maybe. But I like having him with me.”

  Adam suddenly wondered if she kept Granddad with her as a shield. Maybe he wasn’t the only member of the family who strove to avoid the rest of the world, but still. “When are you supposed to take care of you?”

  Her expression softened. “I’m pretty low maintenance.”

  He laughed. “Then you shouldn’t wear yourself out too much.”

  “God, you are such a dipwad,” she told him, shoving him in the chest with both hands.

  He pretended to stagger. “You wound me, Buttface. Go get Granddad, would you?”

  “This conversation isn’t over,” Emma warned. “Come on. Let’s get this show on the road before I decide to put you in adult daycare, too.”

  Chapter 30

  “Where are we goin’?” Granddad asked for the third time since Adam pulled out of Emma’s driveway and then onto Main Street.

  “Out to the ranch,” Adam said, stopping at the corner to wait for a truckload of cattle to cross.

  “I don’t want to live there anymore,” Granddad said.

  “You don’t have to. We’re just gonna hang out for a while.”

  Adam was about to move his foot from brake to gas when Granddad unbuckled his seat belt and said, “I don’t think so.”

  Adam slammed his foot on the brake and grabbed the old man’s shirtsleeve before he could get the door open. “Damn it, Granddad, don’t do that!”

  “I’m not moving back out there. Your grandma don’t live there no more. I ain’t gonna stay without her.” He twisted, trying to break free. “Take me home.”

  “Okay, but wait a minute,” Adam said, trying to figure out what to do. Fortunately, when he released the handful of shirt, Granddad stayed put. “Do you mind going to check out some property with me?”

  Granddad ground his jaw but finally nodded. “I got nothin’ else to do.”

  “Great,” Adam said. “Could you put your seat belt back on please?”

  “Fine.” Granddad fumbled with the buckle, got it fastened, and they resumed their trip.

  “Do you remember buying the Mill Creek farm from Mitch Babcock about ten years ago?” he asked.

  “’Course I remember. But I bought that place from Mike,” Granddad said. “Before he tried to cheat me.”

  “Mike? Mike who?”

  “Bab-cock,” Granddad said, drawing the word out.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t Mitch?”

  Granddad shook his head. “It was the kid that brought the paperwork,” he said. “But it was the old man who set it up, then tried to cheat me.”

  “How did he try to cheat you?”

  “Sneaked out to the ranch and stole the bill of sale. Right out from under my nose.”

  And yet Adam had found the paperwork while cleaning out the horse shed.

  “What were you going to do with the land? Put in more kennels?”

  “Nah. There’s more than enough room at the ranch for more dogs. I was thinking about putting a few head of cattle at the new place.”

  Interesting. For all Granddad’s pride in owning a “ranch,” he’d never wanted cattle or horses that Adam could remember.

  “Where’s that big black dog?” Granddad asked now, turning to scan the back seat in case the enormous dog was hiding.

  “I left him at the ranch with Patton and Loretta.”

  “Who’s Loretta? She some new girlfriend?”

  “No,” Adam said. “She’s that pit bull with the puppies that Lizzie found.”

  “Lizzie that cute little blond gal?”

  “Yep.”

  Granddad pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. “I helped her and Emma with them pups.”

  “Yeah,” Adam confirmed. “The Mill Creek farm is where she found them. They were left to die by someone into dogfighting.”

  “On my land? I’ll kill anyone tries to harm a dog on my property. You call the sheriff?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.” Granddad leaned back in his seat. “I wish them assholes hadn’t stole that deed, or I’d sit out here with a twelve-gauge and keep ’em away myself.”

  Adam didn’t doubt it but instead asked, “When did this theft happen?”

  “Right about the time your sister married that friend a’ yours and rearranged all the furniture out at the ranch.”

  Which was about when Emma noticed Granddad was starting to lose track of time and forget things.

  “Is it possible the papers just got misplaced?”

  “Huh.” Granddad pursed his lips while he considered this. “It’s possible. I’m old. I can’t remember everything, you know. But I never did trust those Babcocks. I think Mike was the third—he was the mayor for a while, you know. I think he stole it.”

  “Well, maybe you’re right.” Adam conceded the point for the moment.

  They were quiet for the rest of the ride, and by the time Adam reached the turn-off to Mill Creek Road, Granddad was snoring softly, head lolling on his chest.

  Adam drove carefully over the rutted lane, not wanting to disturb Granddad, and when they reached the farmyard, he continued through the gate and under the trees next to the creek.

  He turned off the ignition, rolled down the windows, and stared at the water burbling over the rocks. Even this far into summer, there was a decent stream of water. Lizzie
’s park would be a popular place, which meant that there wouldn’t be any more making love on the mossy bank.

  There wouldn’t be any more of that for Adam, anyway. He’d be moving on soon enough.

  His phone beeped, surprising him—there hadn’t been reception when he was here before, but apparently there was enough of a signal for a text to go through, because Emma’s message came through loud and clear: Have a good day. Call me if you have trouble. And by the way—we need to talk about Lizzie.

  He thought of Lizzie’s face last night when they’d talked about his plans. About the reproachful glare from Jake when he told the guys his news. Talbott had shrugged and said, “No problem, man,” but Adam thought he’d seen a flash of panic in his eyes.

  Uncertainty entered the picture and stuck around for the first time since he’d come back to Big Chance. He acknowledged that he’d be letting Jake and Talbott down after promising to help them. The rational part of his brain argued that he had helped. He’d let his friends move in and take over his life for a whole lot longer than he’d expected. He even let them—with Lizzie’s help—talk him into breaking his No Dogs Allowed Ever Again rule.

  And Lizzie. Damn him, he hadn’t meant to get involved with her, but he’d gone and done it. Let her under his skin. Leaving Big Chance was going to be easy as pie. Leaving Lizzie would hurt like hell. The only saving grace was knowing she’d be much better off without him and all his baggage. He’d just have to work hard and try not to think about how much better she’d be.

  He tried to practice not thinking so much now, to focus on the outside world and not his inner combat zone. The stream gurgled softly nearby, and a few birds twittered. The morning heat was tempered by the hint of a breeze, and Adam willed himself to relax—just for a few minutes.

  * * *

  “I can meet you there in thirty minutes,” Lizzie told Rob Chance as she rushed to swipe on a second coat of mascara. She pulled up her last clean pair of dress pants and found an unwrinkled blouse hanging over the back of a chair.

  “I know it’s short notice, but I had a cancellation this morning, and the next few days are totally booked,” the veterinarian told her.

  “Do you know where the Collins place is?” she asked. “Wild Wager Road, a mile past Mill Creek Road, on the right.”

  “Sure.”

  After hanging up, Lizzie shoved her feet into a pair of low-heeled pumps and ran a brush through her hair, then looked around for her car keys.

  “Aren’t you going to have breakfast?” her mother asked as she buzzed past.

  “I’ll get something later,” Lizzie promised.

  It wasn’t until she was most of the way to Adam’s place that it occurred to her that (a) she should have at least grabbed a cup of coffee, and (b) she should have warned the guys she was bringing a potential buyer out to look around.

  She picked up her phone and said, “Hey, phone. Call Adam Collins.”

  “Calling Adam Collins,” her phone answered.

  Miraculously, the call went through—right to voicemail. Well, she’d be there in a minute anyway and could help with any last-minute beer can removal, dish washing, or dirty laundry stashing herself before Rob arrived.

  She could also cowgirl up and accept the inevitable—Adam was selling the ranch to move…somewhere, and she’d promised to help him. What had she said back in June? She’d sell the hell out of that place.

  Adam’s truck wasn’t parked by Marcus’s Camaro when Lizzie pulled up next to the barn. He was probably getting Granddad from Emma’s, which would explain why he hadn’t answered. He was either busy or in a dead zone.

  When she got out of the car, she heard barking and saw D-Day on the other side of the front screen door. He rose onto his hind legs and hit the door handle. He and Patton charged out, knocking into each other in their haste to reach her. Loretta followed more sedately.

  “Hey.” She stooped to give hugs, scratches, and ear rubs in equal measure, appreciating the sloppy kiss from D-Day a little more. She would miss the big goofball when Adam left, because it was pretty clear they’d adopted each other. She was glad of that, even though her heart would be extra sore at the double loss.

  Okay, none of that, she told herself, rising and heading toward the house. It would be really unprofessional to have tear-streaked raccoon face when her client arrived.

  “Hey, Lizzie,” Jake said, pushing through the front door. He stood on the porch in jeans and a Big Chance Independence Day T-shirt, holding a steaming coffee mug. He looked a thousand times better than when he’d arrived, and Lizzie could envision the broad-shouldered young man he’d been before the accident. He’d never regain the young part of that, though.

  D-Day and Patton raced back and forth between her and Jake, herding them closer together, then dashing off to mark any territory that hadn’t already been peed on that morning.

  “Adam’s not here right now,” Jake said.

  “I see that, but Dr. Chance is coming to look at the place.”

  “Dr. Chance?” Jake wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “The veterinarian?”

  “Yes. He’s looking for a place to move his practice.”

  “Why…here?”

  Lizzie froze at Jake’s hesitant speech, a sure sign he was stressed. “Adam told you he wants to sell the ranch, right?”

  Jake’s shoulders slumped. “I hoped…he was bullshitting.”

  “I know,” she said. “I—”

  “You hoped so, too…right?”

  She tried to deny it. “I need the commission from this sale. Rob’s gonna be here in a few minutes. Do we need to clean inside?”

  “No,” Jake said. “I’ve been up…for a while. Marcus is still sleeping. I’ll throw…some cold water on him.”

  “Great. I’ll visit the puppies.” She could hear them beginning to bark in the barn.

  “They can go in the paddock now,” Jake said, indicating the fenced area before turning to go back inside.

  The moment Lizzie opened the kennel, she knew she’d made a mistake. Still awkward and roly-poly at nearly two months old, the puppies were getting fast. Especially when all six ran every direction at once. She dashed after Garth first, who made a beeline for the driveway. She caught him just as Taylor slid under the front porch, and Lyle found something to roll in near the trash cans.

  D-Day and Patton joined in the fun, each chasing one puppy or another.

  By the time she had five puppies and one mother dog safely behind the fence, she was sweating and dusty, and Rob Chance was pulling into the drive, hitting the brakes just as Reba tumbled across his path.

  Oh good, Lizzie thought, diving for the pup. She got a hind leg and only scraped one knee in the process. I’m not only a consummate real estate agent, I’m a responsible dog carer, too. “Hi, Rob,” she said, rising to her feet with Reba in her arms. She reached around the squirming dog to shake his hand. “Let me just reunite this stinker with her family.”

  Rob, fortunately, didn’t seem phased by the chaos. “Nothing like a good dog chase first thing in the morning,” he said, giving Reba a pat. “You, little lady, are about due for some shots.”

  Reba licked his hand.

  Lizzie added the puppy to the scampering crew in the paddock and asked, “Where do you want to start? The house? Or out here and the barn?”

  The front door squeaked, and Marcus and Jake came outside. Both men stood, staring at Rob, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

  “Let’s start out here,” Rob suggested.

  Chapter 31

  Adam dozed but didn’t think he’d actually fallen asleep until something—a bang, like a door closing—roused him. He heard it again. A car door, from a distance. Someone was out in the farmyard.

  Maybe Lizzie.

  He grabbed his phone and saw a notification of a missed call from her. Anticipation fizzed through
his veins. The patchy reception out here was on the not-happening side right now, but this was not a problem, especially if that was her car door he’d heard. He could walk a few yards through the trees and see her in person. He shoved the phone into his pocket and got out of the truck.

  Softly closing the door so as to not disturb Granddad, he headed out from beneath the canopy of trees and across the meadow. He made it to the opening in the fence before he saw the vehicle in the farmyard. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. This was not Lizzie. He should have realized it was someone else—he’d heard two doors slamming.

  Like every other truck in Big Chance, this one was white. There were metal boxes in the back, with grated openings in the sides. Crates for securing animals. A dog barked and scratched from inside one as the relentless summer sun beat down on the dull steel. It was too damned hot to keep a dog locked in what could very likely turn into its own coffin.

  Obviously, whoever owned this truck wasn’t out here to survey the property for park usability.

  Before he went pit bull avenger on anyone, however, he needed to know what he was dealing with. Two men stood beyond the truck with their backs to Adam. They hadn’t heard his approach, so he crouched down behind some bushes.

  “All it’ll take is some cosmetic work—patch the floor, fix the stairs, add lights, and you’d have a decent pit,” the taller, thinner man said. “You’ve got space over on the north end to put a few cages, and there’s plenty of room up here to watch everything. You have a better arena, you’ll get bigger players.”

  Christ, they were talking about making improvements for more dogfighting.

  Adam felt that familiar surge of adrenaline, but it wasn’t here to give him a panic attack for a change. He checked his phone. Still no coverage to call 911, so he focused on gathering information. After he had some evidence, he’d rescue the dog in the back of the truck. He got his phone out and began to record video.

  “Yeah, I can do that,” the other guy said. This one was younger—probably in his early thirties, Adam guessed, with the build of a former football player—strong but not lean. The guy raked his fingers through thinning blond hair and looked around. “I’ll get some porta potties out here, set them up by the barn.”