Cowgirls Don't Cry (13 page)

Thirteen

“S
hut up, Cord.”

Chance’s brother was waving a piece of paper in his face. “Have you seen these fliers? Every store in Cowtown has one stuck to the door.” He used the local nickname for the area known as Stockyard City.

Chance brushed Cord back with a wave of his hand. “I’ve seen it. So what?”

“So what? All hell would break out if the old man was here. You better be glad he and Cash flew to Vegas to pull Chase’s butt out of the fire over the deal with that showgirl.”

He vaguely remembered something about a blackmail scheme and a showgirl at the Barron Crown Casino, and being glad at the time they hadn’t dragged him into it. “What do you want me to do about the fliers, Cord? Go door to door and rip them down?”

“I want you to fix this. Before the old man gets back and has a stroke.”

“I can’t stop her, Cord.”

“You can’t? Or you won’t?”

“Does it matter? Either way, I’m not getting involved.”

“You’re already involved, Chance. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too. Not this time. Do what you always do. Take the bitch—”

Before he knew what happened, Chance had surged from his desk chair and wrapped his fist in his brother’s shirtfront. “Don’t call her that. Cassidy Morgan is not that kind of woman.” Cord grabbed his wrist and squeezed, but Chance didn’t loosen his grip.

Cord stared at him, his arched brow speaking volumes.

With studied care, Chance released his brother and leaned back in his chair. Cord retreated to the far side of the desk and tried to look nonchalant as he lounged in one of the armchairs. They stared at each other as the clock ticked off several minutes. Cord finally broke the silence.

“So what are you going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? What does that mean?”

“Just what it sounds like. Nothing. I’m not going to stop her. I’m not going to help her. I don’t think she can pull this thing off. If she does, I’ll be surprised, but damn proud of her. It won’t matter what we do. She’s not giving up.” He scrubbed at his forehead with his fingers and willed his headache away. “If the old man had listened to me in the first place, we could have bought her out, and she’d be back in Chicago, safe.”

“Safe?”

“Safely out of our hair.”

“Yeah. Right. I’m sure that’s what you meant. But the old man doesn’t work that way, Chance. You know it. I know it. The world knows it. If he finds out about this, it’s your ass.”

“I’m aware of that, Cord. But...”

“But what?”

“She trusts me.”

“Well...crap.”

* * *

Cass leaned on the stall door and watched as Doc dipped his muzzle in the water trough. She’d just emptied it and refilled it with fresh. She’d meticulously picked over the hay and grain she put in his manger. Chance had been right. No mold. She rubbed at eyes gritty from lack of sleep. Chance had been right about the colt, too. Doc was fine this morning, seemingly no worse for the wear. She’d have to muck out his stall soon, but this was one time she wouldn’t complain. Not one bit.

Boots joined her. His appraising eye roamed over the horse and the stall. “He’s gonna be fine, baby girl.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “And I have news about your flyers. We’ll have some help with the herd.”

She glanced at him as he continued.

“The agriculture teacher over from the high school called. He’s got some FFA boys comin’ to round up the herd and get ’em gathered here in the big pasture today. Some of ’em are gonna make the ride with us, too. They get extra credit.”

Future Farmers of America. Now that was a group she hadn’t thought about in years. She’d been the FFA queen one year and sold a bunch of World’s Finest Chocolate to help with votes. “What goes around comes around,” she chuckled.

“We need to get those cows started tomorrow, Cassie. Big sale is on Friday mornin’. The cattle need to be penned and ready in the stockyards by Thursday night.”

She rubbed her eyes again and rolled her head, listening to the familiar snap and crackle as vertebrae ground together at the top of her spine. “I got all the permits for Canadian County. And the commissioner from Oklahoma County says he’ll have a set ready today.”

“Nadine’s offered to feed everyone. She’s shuttin’ down the Four Corners and is gonna drive her RV. She’ll set up camp for us and have food ready for the crew mornin’ and night.”

“But...she can’t close the diner. She’ll lose too much money, Uncle Boots.”

He patted her shoulder, his grin adding more crinkles to his weatherworn cheeks. “Honey, she wouldn’t miss this for the world. She closes a week for vacation ever year anyway, so this is her vacation.”

Cass rubbed her chest to ease the tightness forming there. “This is going to work, Uncle Boots.”

“Yup.”

Boots could be a man of few words. “I guess I’d better go pick up those permits, huh?”

“Yup.” He dug in his pocket and handed over the keys to the truck.

* * *

Cass perched on the tailgate of Boots’s truck and tried not to laugh. She really did. But the sight of the group of high school kids flapping their arms and waving their hats as they tried to funnel the herd through the gate while on foot had her doubled over. She lightly punched Boots’s arm as he leaned next to her.

“That’s just mean.”

“Yup.”

The ag teacher laughed along with her. “They need to taste a little vinegar. Ranching is hard. The sooner they learn that, the better. This life isn’t a glorified Western movie.”

“Boy, isn’t that the truth!”

“Still, I’m always reminded of that speech John Wayne makes in the movie
McClintock
. The one where he’s talking to his daughter about how he didn’t plan to leave her the whole ranch, just a little start-up place. There’s a whole lot of growing a person has to do to become a rancher.”

Cass stared at the teacher, struck dumb by the revelation. She watched the kids work, sober now in her reflections. In many ways, her dad had given her that same speech—but in his actions, not his words. She ran off to the world and forgot the lessons she’d learned here in this place. She’d forgotten what home felt like. And now she remembered. Thanks to Boots. And Chance.

Her heart burned with fierce pride for the first time in ten years. She turned her head slightly to look at Boots, and a small smile hovered at the corner of her mouth. Squeezing the old man’s arm, she leaned in and planted an impulsive kiss on his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“For helping me realize that I’m home.” She laughed as a boy tripped and face-planted in the pasture. A girl helped him up, and the two of them jogged after a steer refusing to go through the gate. “God help me with that bunch, but by golly, we’re going to get this herd to market!”

Chance’s absence kept this from being perfect. She knew he was busy. Lawyers with their own law firms were. Her feelings for him were still new enough she hadn’t figured out the rules. Cass did know that what she felt for Chance was all tied up with her feelings of coming home.

Early the next morning, Nadine’s RV idled in the front yard. She’d arrived at the crack of dawn and already had coffee and doughnuts ready for folks as they arrived. Horse trailers and pickups littered the yard and people milled about. Saddled horses stood tied, swishing desultory tails at the occasional fly, heads down as they dozed in the early-morning light.

Cass hadn’t slept much. Keyed up, nervous and scared she’d fail, she’d paced the floor of her bedroom in between bouts of tossing and turning. She wished Chance was there—even if Boots would have a conniption over Chance sharing her bed. She wanted the comfort of his arms. He would have kissed her, told her she was doing the right thing and that everything would be all right.

He’s busy,
she told herself, but part of her resented the fact he wasn’t there. He’d said the words, told her he loved her, but everything was still new enough, she didn’t know whether to believe or not. Especially when it seemed that if she needed him, he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, make time.

She had four days to go just over twenty miles with five hundred head of prime grass-fed beef. At current market rates, they were selling for almost a hundred and fifty dollars for a hundredweight. Even if they brought less, she’d make enough to pay off the mortgage and her dad’s medical bills.

Nadine pressed a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. “I made it good and strong this morning, honey. Y’all are gonna need a kick in the britches today.”

Without thinking, Cass took a sip and sputtered. She managed to swallow the hot, black liquid without spitting, but it took supreme effort on her part.

“Cream and sugar is over there, hon.” Nadine patted her on the back in an effort to ease her coughing spasm.

“Thanks.” The word came out choked but at least she could still talk. Movement down at the gate caught her eye. The big Ford pickup maneuvered through the congestion and inched up the drive. Chance. Had he come to help after all? She waited until he parked before walking over. She arrived just as he stepped out.

He wore boots, but he sure wasn’t dressed for cowboy work. Dress slacks and a starched button-down shirt made him look more like a male model than ever. Or a lawyer. But what she wanted right then was a cowboy. She schooled her expression before greeting him.

“Hi, cowboy, fancy meeting you here.” She kept her voice light and teasing despite the disappointment churning inside her. That whole fantasy of the two of them riding off into the sunset was just that. A fantasy. For now at least.

“I have court today, Cass. I’m sorry. I couldn’t get the docket changed.” He didn’t step away from the shelter provided by the open door and the bulk of the truck cab. Truth be told, she was glad for the privacy.

She lifted one shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “Hey, work happens. Thanks for getting up so early to come see us off.”

He gazed around and seemed surprised by the hustle and bustle and the number of people. “Looks like you have a lot of help.”

“Yeah. We even have places to camp out along the way. Once the word got out about what I’m doing, all sorts of people stepped up.” She inhaled, feeling very pleased with herself. “This will work, Chance. I’m going to get the herd to the stockyards and get them sold. Then I can pay off Daddy’s debts.”

“What will you do then?”

His voice sounded peculiar, and she cut her eyes in his direction. He looked odd, the expression on his face unreadable. She tilted her head and turned to face him. “I’m staying here. Daddy’s dying gift to me was that colt down in the barn. I’m not a rancher. I don’t know squat about cows, but horses? Horses I know. I’ll use any money left over from the sale to get a couple of mares and when Doc is old enough, I’ll breed him. And I’ll train horses. I may have been out of the game for ten years, but I went out on top. I was the national champion cowgirl.”

Cass watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed then lifted her gaze to his eyes. He looked almost...haunted for a moment, and she wondered why. He blinked, and his expression changed. What lurked behind the smile he now wore?

“So you
are
a cowgirl at heart.”

His teasing sounded forced to her ears, but she returned his smile with a hesitant one of her own. “Guess I always was. Just took coming home—and a certain cowboy—to make me remember that.”

She glanced to the eastern horizon where the top curve of the morning sun had cleared the tree line. “Time to get this party started.” She rocked up on her toes and brushed her lips across his, her palm braced against his chest for balance. “Thanks for coming to see me off.”

There was nothing forced about his smile as his arm circled her waist and hugged her a bit closer. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” He kissed her back, deeply, his lips nibbling hers as his tongue eased into her mouth to tease her.

A bit breathless when he released her, she rocked back on her heels and figured she looked either bemused or just plain stupid because wow. That man could kiss her right out of her boots.

Chance laughed, obviously pleased by her reaction. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “Head ’em up, cowgirl.”

In less time than she anticipated, her drovers had the herd lined up and ready to move out of the pasture and onto the road. Boots had cut part of the fence to install a temporary gate, and one of the neighbors would restring the barbed wire once the herd was well on its way. The old man sat on his horse at the opening, waiting to lead the herd. Cass held Red’s reins, and was about to mount and give the order to move out when a car flew up the road scattering a dust cloud in its wake. The vehicle, with no apparent attempt to brake, careened into her drive.

“What the hell?” She dropped the reins and marched toward the car, which had stopped. She noticed that Boots was riding up at a gallop.

The white, four-door sedan looked like an unmarked police car. The vehicle even had a spotlight mounted above the driver’s-side mirror. She stopped a few feet away, fists planted on her hips as she waited for the driver to emerge. She expected to see a uniform. She got a nondescript man wearing cheap khaki pants and a blue short-sleeved shirt that looked in desperate need of an iron.

“I’m lookin’ for Cassidy Morgan!” The man bawled out her name at the top of his lungs. All eyes turned in her direction.

“That would be me. Who are you?”

He walked up and waved an envelope under her nose. “Here.”

She refused to take it. “What’s that?”

He stuffed it down the front of her shirt. “You’ve been served.”

“What?” Cass dug the envelope out of her shirt and tore it open. She read the heading, “In the District Court of the County of Oklahoma, State of Oklahoma.” Her eyes skipped down, caught her name and the name of the bank, followed by the words “wholly owned subsidiary of Barron Enterprises” before focusing on the first paragraph. “What the hell?”

“That, Miss Morgan, is a foreclosure notice. Everything on this ranch now belongs to Barron Enterprises by way of Stockmen’s Bank and Trust.”

She stared at him, her mouth gaping. She shook her head and bit back the curses she wanted to spew in his direction. Instead, she read the notice. “This is bull. It says there’s a hearing set for next Monday. I have until then to present collateral assets or to pay off the loan.” She thought. The legal terms were jumbled in her head and then she remembered. Chance! He was an attorney.