The Cowboy Imports a Bride(The Cowboys Of Chance Creek #3) (16 page)

"The Mathesons are a pretty tight-knit clan. Family is everything to them. Holt probably sent him over to try to persuade Rob to change his mind, but he's wasting his time. You can't keep someone on a ranch who doesn't want to be there."

"But if it weren't for me, Rob wouldn't have left in the first place."

"Maybe, but if he'd stayed, he'd be miserable. Sooner or later something would happen to make him leave. I'm glad he found a good reason to do so."

"Everyone thinks the winery is crazy," she said, remembering Ned's words.

"I don't," Ethan said. He put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him. "I know you two will make it a success. I think no one knows what Rob's capable of yet. Not even him."

She hoped he was right. But even after Rob got home and shared his good news about building a garden for Carl, it was a long time before she fell asleep.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The following evening, after a day spent helping Ethan escort his guests on a long trail ride around the ranch, complete with picnic lunch, Rob prepared to head over to Carl's spread to get started on Lacey's garden.

"So let me get this straight," Ethan said when they met by Rob's truck. "You're going to build a massive garden for my ex-fiancée? Whose side are you on?"

"Don't pretend you give a crap about Lacey anymore, now that you're married to Autumn. That's like worrying about losing track of a skunk when you've been given a thoroughbred race horse."

"I think I understand what you mean," Ethan said wryly, "though I've never exactly heard it put that way before."

"Anyway, I need the cash and Carl's being real generous on this deal."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"All right, then. Have at it," Ethan said.

When Rob arrived at Carl's, he found the man had staked out the plot he had in mind in back of the enormous log house he was building. Unfortunately, he could barely see the tops of the stakes over the shoulder-high brush that grew all over this part of the property.

"You got some tools with you?" Carl said, when he came to meet him.

"Yep," Rob said. He figured he'd hack down the big stuff and then subcontract out to one of the locals who owned an industrial-strength tiller to come plow the whole acre. "You got any plans for the layout of the garden?"

"Not really." Carl scratched his head.

"How about a photo from a magazine or something – to give me a basic idea."

"Okay. Lacey's always looking through things like that. I've probably got something in the house," Carl said. "I'll go on inside and look around. You get busy."

Forty-five minutes later, Rob was ready to give up. The brush was so thick and high it was about impossible to cut through by hand. He was wasting precious time and energy doing it like this. He needed to hire someone with a tractor and rotary mower to power through all of it. Then a tiller could come through.

It was too late to call around, so he headed back for his truck. Carl met him in the driveway.

"I got it," he said. He waved a piece of paper at him. When he got closer, Rob saw that it was a page torn from a magazine. In the failing light he couldn't make out much of it, so he turned on the cab light in his Chevy and examined it there.

"This is what you're after?" he asked after a moment.

"Yep – that's it exactly."

"You do realize it's September." The page showed an old-fashioned English garden with formal raised beds bursting with perennials in full bloom. There were perfectly clipped hedges, flagstone walkways, a fountain, statuary and a fence around the entire perimeter.

"I don't care what month it is. I'm paying you plenty – make it happen," Carl said.

"That fence alone will cost twenty thousand dollars."

"Fine. Make a list of the materials and costs, add on twenty thousand for your labor and show it to me tomorrow," Carl said. "We'll go from there."

What the hell had he gotten himself into? He'd never get this done in a single month. Should he confess that to Carl and negotiate a new time-table?

No, he needed that money before the wedding. Somehow, he'd have to perform a miracle.

"Will do."

* * * * *

Morgan couldn't believe she was actually driving voluntarily onto enemy territory. She inched along the long lane that led to the main buildings on the Double-Bar-K, following the directions Autumn had given her. She drove Ethan's Ford F-150, and desperately missed the Honda Civic she'd placed in storage with her furniture back in Victoria before she'd left for Montana. Lisa Matheson had called her mid-morning to remind her about their date to go dress shopping, and asked if she could swing by and get her since her own vehicle was acting up.

The last place on earth she wanted to be after her fight with Ned was pulling up in front of the Matheson house. An impressive two-story home with a wrap-around porch, it had a slightly more old-money feel to it than the Cruz ranch did. She didn't need to be told this ranch had been in Matheson hands for a long, long time.

The front door opened and Lisa peered out. "I'll be ready in a minute – come on in!"

Sighing, Morgan gathered her purse. She'd hoped she could pull up, load Lisa into the truck, and leave before anyone else saw them. She guessed that would be expecting a miracle. She exited the Ford, climbed the steps to the porch and hesitated in the doorway.

"Come on in," Lisa sang out again from somewhere farther into the house. "I need to find my purse."

Morgan walked into a wide entryway. A formal living room lay through a door to her left. The dining room was to her right. A staircase in front of her swept up to a second floor balcony with halls extending from either end of it that must lead to a number of bedrooms. Somewhere farther back on the first floor must lie a kitchen and perhaps a family room. It was an elegant home and Lisa had every right to be proud of it.

"Found it!" Lisa called, and came bustling back up the central hall, as the door opened behind Morgan and a masculine voice said, "What are you doing here?"

Morgan spun around. It was Rob's oldest brother, Jake, and behind him, Rob's father was entering the house.

"Jake, behave yourself," Lisa said. "Morgan and I are going dress shopping. Lunch is all set in the kitchen. I'll be back in time for dinner."

"Dress shopping? With her?" Holt said. He glared at Morgan and she wished she could sink into the floorboards. Why, oh why hadn't she put Lisa off on this fool's errand?

"You behave yourself, too, Holt Matheson," Lisa said. "You go ahead and grumble all you like when it's family, but when there's a guest in our house, you mind your manners."

Morgan looked at Lisa in surprise. Holt frowned. "This woman is stealing our son. I guess I'll growl at her if I want to."

"She's marrying our son, not stealing him," Lisa said.

"What's the difference? She's taking him away, ain't she? Buying Cruz land, for God's sake. What's wrong with our spread, I'd like to know that."

"He's buying Cruz land because you didn't want him to build a vineyard for me here," Morgan said. "He loves me and wants me to be happy. Did it ever occur to any of you that he could use your support?"

"Did it ever occur to you we need his help here with this ranch?" Holt snapped back.

"No," she stated firmly. "That hasn't occurred to me, because according to Rob, none of you have ever needed him to do anything except your own dirty work. You miss having your slave to order around, because that's all he's ever been to you."

"I've never treated him like a slave," Holt said.

She simply stared him down. Eventually, he glanced away.

"Rob knows what I want," he said gruffly. "My four boys working this ranch together. That's always been my dream."

"Have you ever asked Rob what his dreams are? Or have you been too busy telling him what to do to ever ask?"

"Who the hell do you think you are coming to my house and speaking to me that way?" Holt drew himself up to his full height and Morgan could see where his sons got their stature and self-confidence.

"I'm the woman who loves your son. And pretty soon I'll be his wife and the mother of your grandkids, so you better get used to me. I'm not going anywhere." She turned to Lisa. "I'm sorry, but I think we'd better shop another day." She'd already said too much, and she knew if she stood for a minute longer in the entryway of the Matheson house, she'd say something they'd all regret. She pushed past Holt and opened the door, hurrying down the steps back to Ethan's truck.

She managed to hold back her tears until she'd reached the end of the long dirt lane, but then they began to fall. As she moved to turn back toward the Cruz ranch, she hesitated. If she drove back there, someone would ask questions and she knew she couldn't talk about what had happened without losing her composure all together. Making up her mind, she turned left instead of right, and drove into town.

Ten minutes later she entered the Chance Creek Pet Clinic, her eyes dry but rimmed with red. She hoped Bella would be there, but instead a young blond woman whose nametag read Hannah sat at the front desk.

"Can I help you?" she asked cheerfully. Several people sat in the waiting room, dogs on leashes and cats in carriers.

"I…don't have an appointment," Morgan said. "I was wondering…if I could hang out with the shelter animals?" She trailed off, feeling foolish. Bella probably wouldn't want people to drop in unannounced. This was a veterinary office, not just a pound.

"Sure thing!" Hannah smiled broadly. "We love it when people come and give the pets some attention. The animals love it, too. Are you a dog person or a cat person?"

"I guess I could be either."

Hannah considered her, and Morgan had a feeling she could see the traces of tears on her face. "Let's start with cats today," she said kindly. She led the way through to the shelter and once again Morgan found herself in the feline area of the big building. "Our animals have the best chance for adoption if they're good with being handled and unafraid of humans. If you take the cats out of their cages, one at a time, and just pet and hold them for a little while, that's really great."

"What if they don't want to be held?"

"Don't push things if they put up a fuss," Hannah said. "Some of the cats are feral. We give them shots, spay or neuter them, then try to find farms where they can be barn cats. Take your lead from the animals." She turned to leave.

"What if one gets away from me?" Morgan said, beginning to panic a little at the thought of being alone among all these cages.

"As long as you keep the main doors shut, you'll be fine." Hannah assured her. "Just come back up front when you're done."

Left among the animals, Morgan didn't know where to start, but she approached the cage of an orange tabby and cautiously opened it. The cat, interested, came over to inspect her, sniffed her outstretched hand and consented to be picked up. Morgan sat down on the floor and held the purring cat in her lap, stroking her fur and allowing her to sniff her, in return. The cat seemed in no hurry to run away from her so after a moment she relaxed and was rewarded when it curled up in her lap.

After a few minutes, she reluctantly put the animal back in its cage and took another one out, repeating the process. This one was more wiggly and she wasn't able to pet it as long before it made an effort to get away. Once she safely had it back in its cage, she moved on to the next one.

Soon she realized she was moving methodically through the cages because she wanted time with each animal before she had to leave. She began to understand how Bella could become obsessed with saving them all. How could you choose which one to keep or let go? They were all so beautiful.

A few crouched in the back of their cages, hissing and spitting when she reached out to let them sniff her hand. Those she let be, but when she cuddled her tenth cat, a lovely black and white one who liked to nuzzle her under her chin, she had to laugh when she thought back to her confrontation with the Mathesons.

Who cared about Holt or Jake or Ned? These kitties didn't judge her because she was a Tate instead of a Matheson, or because she wanted a vineyard instead of cattle. They accepted her presence – reveled in it – without question.

Some humans could learn a thing or two from these fluffy balls of fur.

When she finally did leave, after cuddling every cat in the building that would let her near, she felt much better. Hannah smiled at her. "Are you hooked yet?"

"You bet. I still don't see how Bella can afford to feed all those animals, though."

"The bills are crazy," Hannah confided. "I've been working on some plans, though."

"Really? Anything I can do to help?"

Hannah brightened. "Do you mean that?"

"Sure." It was better than stewing about Holt.

"If you want to join me for lunch soon I could show you what I've got so far. I could use someone to bounce ideas off of."

"Sure. I'll call you later in the week." Morgan left the office much happier than she'd been when she arrived. Between the furry therapy she'd received from the cats, and the promise of a lunch date with Hannah, she thought she could take on Holt and all his sons.

Besides, she had made her first friend in Chance Creek unconnected to Rob or the Cruz ranch. In some small way, she'd sent down a thread of a root into the community she wanted so badly to join.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Right before dinner on Sunday, Rob parked in the lot at the Chance Creek Regional Airport and climbed out of his Chevy. He couldn’t believe only a little over a week had passed since he and Morgan landed here. So much had happened in the intervening days.

He was dog tired and he still had hours of work ahead of him at Carl's place tonight. He'd managed to get some equipment in and the acre plot was mowed and tilled within an inch of its life, but it had been much harder to find a mason. He had two kinds of rocks on order; rounded river rock for the perimeter fence, and flat shale for the raised beds. While the mason worked on the fence, he'd tackle those beds himself.