How to Wrangle a Cowboy (27 page)

A sunburned hulk who was a dead ringer for Dog the Bounty Hunter swaggered up and stared over his shoulder, the way RaeLynn had. RaeLynn smelled better though—both her body and her breath. Shane stifled the urge to wrinkle his nose.

“Hey.” The man turned to his drinking companions. “It says ‘For a good time, call that new lady vet!’”

He tore off one of the phone numbers. A few other men, laughing and making lewd jokes, did the same, jostling Shane to one side.

He felt his hackles rise—whatever hackles were. Hearing Lindsey spoken of that way made him want to hit somebody. And hey, it had been a long time since he’d been in a bar fight. Clenching and unclenching his fists at his side, he savored the slide of his muscles, the strength of his grip.

Maybe it had been too long.

Then Ozzie Wells stood up from a table in the corner, and Shane’s hankering for a fight oozed right out of him. Ozzie stood about six foot six, and had to edge through most doors sidewise. He’d been a hand at Ed Brockman’s place until he’d had a confrontation with his boss, and now he lived alone at Springtime Acres. His graying brown hair, half frizz, half unintentional dreadlocks, hung down past his shoulders. The man had to be on the far side of fifty, and Shane wondered what would happen to him as he grew older.

Nothing good, probably.

Shane knew that Ozzie spent nearly every evening at the Red Dawg, hunched over a corner table nursing a double shot of whiskey or two for a couple of hours. He spoke to no one, and no one spoke to him. Legend had it that the bartender tried to take his truck keys away from him once, but Ozzie simply held up a shot glass, which looked laughably tiny in his great paw, and bared his rotten teeth. The bartender let go of the keys and never asked again.

Now, the big man lumbered over to the notice and squinted at the lettering. Shane could see the brown stumps of teeth in his mouth as he sounded out the words with painful slowness. The fetid stench of his breath was sickening, and Shane took a step back when the man turned to face him.

“This Bud Ward’s granddaughter?”

Shane nodded. Ozzie turned to the buzzing crowd, which immediately hushed.

“You all need to be respectful.” Carefully, he tore off one of the tabs with Lindsey’s phone number on it. “That’s a real fine woman, and a good family. And we could use a good animal doctor round here.”

Ozzie looked Shane up and down, making him wish he’d worn his barn-cleaning clothes instead of a striped Wrangler shirt and jeans with no worn spots. He’d dressed for Lindsey, not Ozzie Wells.

“You’re looking mighty pretty, there, cowboy.”

To Shane’s horror, the big man slung one meaty arm around his neck and tugged him close. “You got your eye on that woman?”

“She’s—she’s like a little sister to me,” Shane said.

It wasn’t a total lie. Grace was family, as Bud had been. And Lindsey, as their granddaughter, was under his protection. The rest was nobody’s business.

“Good.” Ozzie nodded his approval, and Shane was reminded of a giant, shaggy Muppet as the man raised one meaty arm in the air and waved at the bartender. “Shots all round,” he hollered. “Make ’em doubles!”

“You’ll do that for us, won’t you, little buddy?” Ozzie patted Shane on the head, making him wonder if his neck would ever be the same. “You’ll buy us a round?”

Shane nodded, feeling a little dazed.

“Good man.” Ozzie punched him in the arm, and Shane tried not to flinch.

Shane managed to extricate himself from Ozzie’s casual embrace and settle up with the bartender before leaving the drinkers to their revelry. He should have stayed, had a drink or two, made sure they respected him enough that they’d leave Lindsey alone.

But strange as it seemed, she was probably safe under Ozzie’s protection, and he felt uncomfortable in the bar. There was a stench of desperation about the place, a feeling of loss and loneliness. The oil boom had mowed through the Wynott area like a rototiller, tearing everything up and then tossing it down again with no regard for the folks left behind.

As he closed the door, shutting out the sounds of men trying to outshout each other, Shane took a deep breath of the soft twilit air. His boots crunched across the gravel lot, and the songs of a cricket orchestra gradually overwhelmed the cries of the revelers as he left the bar behind. The mercury lights in the parking lot glinted off the gleaming hood of his truck, making it easy to find. None of the other trucks were shiny.

Again he felt a little ashamed. Sure, he’d worked hard to get where he was. But these men had worked too—many of them at dangerous jobs where their lives were on the line, at the mercy of explosions, falls, and other accidents. Yet they had nothing now. Less than nothing, most of them. Buying them shots was the least he could do.

Climbing into the cab, he pondered his next move. Putting up the notice at the bar had been a mistake. He’d have to let Lindsey know she was likely to get some prank phone calls—heavy breathers, maybe worse—from the men at the bar.

But, hey, he’d tried. RaeLynn was right; there weren’t many folks in the area who’d pay for her services. So whatever Lindsey needed money for, it was probably going to have to wait.

Chapter 33

Shane was saddling one of Grace’s old horses, getting ready to ride fence, when Lindsey jogged down the porch steps with a little black case in one hand and her fringed hippie purse in the other. He hadn’t seen her in a couple days; she’d been out a lot. He had no idea what she’d been up to. Shopping, probably. He’d wondered how long a city girl could stand the isolation of the ranch.

Their lovemaking, earth-shattering though it was, had stopped through an unspoken agreement. He wasn’t sure why she’d let it end, but he knew why he hadn’t tried harder to get together with her.

He was scared.

Lindsey Ward made him feel things. She made him reckless and wild and uninhibited, yet at the same time, she made him miserable. Why did love have to be so hard?

Right now, the mere sight of her made his heart lift. She was so happy, so carefree. Even from that distance, he could hear her humming. What was that song? “Walking on Sunshine,” that was it. There was a bounce to her walk, and as he watched, she executed a quick little dance step.

Pausing, she glanced around the ranch with a smile. And why wouldn’t she? It was a beautiful day in a beautiful place, and the place belonged to her. So did he—his heart, anyway. He was a goner when it came to Lindsey Ward, though it was obvious she hadn’t missed him one bit.

He gave her a smile and what he hoped was a casual wave, making Old Silver pin his ears and jerk his head sideways.

“S’okay, boy.”

Shane stroked the horse’s neck. Silver had been with them so long, it was easy to forget he’d once been abused, but horse’s memories were far longer than humans’. A quick gesture or an angry word could still make the old gelding flinch.

He did more than flinch when Lindsey dropped her bag and ran into the corral. As she leaped into Shane’s arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, Silver shied and pranced to the far side of the corral.

Lindsey landed a huge smacking kiss on Shane’s cheek and leaned back, grinning at him. He did his best to reflect her joy back with his own, but he knew he could only offer a pale imitation. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had that kind of happiness in him, except when he was alone with her.

“Spin me,” she said.

He obliged, whirling her around and around while she tilted her head back and smiled at the sky, her hair fanning outward. Watching the world whirl around them, he felt like the center of her universe. It was a good feeling, but dizzying. Reluctantly, he set her down.

“I’m so happy.” She hugged herself and hopped a little on the tips of her toes. “When I got home the other night, I had a bunch of messages, and I’ve been out at the trailer park all day. Just got home and there are three more calls.”

“Who called you? Did Ozzie call you?”

She nodded. “I just
love
that guy. He looks so tough, you know? But he loves his big ol’ tomcat. Little Oz, he calls him. Isn’t that cute?”

“Adorable,” Shane said.

“I’m heading out to see him now.”

“Maybe I should go with you. That’s a rough crowd.”

“Only because they lead rough lives.” Her ebullient mood dampened a bit. “That place is terrible, Shane. A disgrace. Human beings shouldn’t have to live that way.”

“Most don’t.”

Anger flared in her eyes and she jabbed a finger in his chest. “Don’t you judge those men. Not until you’ve taken a walk in their shoes. When they moved here, it was to work hard at good jobs, for good money. They had no way of knowing it wouldn’t last. And now they’re trapped.”

She was right, as usual. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, to tell her how extraordinary she was. Most people never spared a thought for men like Ozzie, but she walked into their lives without fear, asking only how she could help.

“So Ozzie has a cat, huh?”

The smile returned. “A big, old, scrappy tomcat with one eye and half a tail. And, boy, does he love Little Oz. He actually broke down and cried when I told him Little Oz didn’t have cancer. Just fatty tumors.”

The cat was sounding more attractive every minute. Fortunately, Lindsey wasn’t looking for a response. Scooping up her bag, she slung her purse over her shoulder.

“I’m headed out there now,” she said. “Hold the fort!”

“You sure you don’t want me—”

“Oh, I want you,” she said. “I want you like crazy. But that’ll have to wait.”

He stood there, gaping his mouth like a moonstruck calf while she climbed into her grandfather’s truck, revved the engine, and peeled out of the drive with a careless wave of her hand.

He watched her go, raking one hand through his hair and wondering how long he’d have to wait. One part of him thrilled with the knowledge she still wanted him, but waves of worry drowned his anticipation. She was going to leave eventually. He’d feared all along that she’d break Cody’s heart, but Cody was young and adaptable. It was Shane’s heart that would break when she left.

Draping Silver’s dangling lead rope over the fence, he wished he could just enjoy Lindsey instead of worrying so much. When good things happened to him, he expected them to be whisked away by the curse that had pursued him all his life. Ever since his mother had left him with his brutal, useless drunk of a father, his mind had rushed to defend against worst-case scenarios, and when Tara disappeared with Cody, it got even worse.

He needed to get a grip.

Chapter 34

Shane had almost finished saddling Silver when a grinding, clanking sound caught his attention. Glancing out the barn door, he spotted a dust cloud at the bottom of the drive.

Squinting, he shaded his eyes with one hand and saw an old green station wagon bouncing up the drive. The driver pulled to a stop in front of the barn, shutting off the engine. The car gasped and clanked a few more times in the automotive version of a death rattle.

A heavyset woman with sparse gray hair done up in old-fashioned pink curlers stepped out, panting as if driving had plumb tired her out. Without a word, she waddled back and opened the car’s back door. A harsh squawk followed, and a few white feathers drifted from the car’s grubby interior.

“This here’s for Dr. Ward.”

She pulled out a homemade chicken-wire cage that contained one dirty and very angry leghorn hen. “I know it’s not cash money, but Sally’s a good layer, and she’s all organic.”

Shane eyed the chicken, and the chicken eyed Shane. He could tell this critter was trouble, and he had a feeling he’d better resist any attempts to diversify the ranch if Lindsey was taking payment in trade. Next thing he knew, Ozzie would be paying for Little Oz’s care in snakes or something.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “We don’t have a chicken coop. Lindsey—Dr. Ward—was just telling me she could probably forgive bills if folks can’t afford to pay. It’s all about the animals for her.”

“Don’t I know it.” The woman raised herself to her full height, which was amplified by the mound of pink curlers and a few wild spikes of hair that poked out in between them. She was wearing a housedress that was so thin over her ample bosom that Shane didn’t quite know where to look. He tried looking down, but her feet, clad only in flip-flops, were dirty and her legs were so beset by spider veins it looked like a nervous child had taken a Sharpie to her graying flesh.

“That woman is a saint,” the woman declared. “She treated my old Dollie as if she was a Kennel Club champion when I know good and well she’s just a regular old poodle dog. But Rosa Mayhew does not take charity.” She took a step closer to Shane, wagging an admonishing finger. “You give Sally to Dr. Ward. She’ll be pleased. I’m sure of it.” She pointed to the chicken, which had cocked its head sideways to give Shane the evil eye. “That’s a very fine laying hen, there.”

Huffing and puffing, she climbed back into the car and cranked the engine. It rattled and banged back to coughing, gasping, miraculous life, and she peeled out, leaving both Shane and the chicken to eat her dust.

Shane looked at the chicken.

The chicken looked at Shane.

It had a glint in its eyes that just dared him to let it out of that cage, but he wasn’t about to do it. He’d put it in the barn though. It wouldn’t do to let the bird bake in the sun.

He set the cage, chicken and all, in a shady spot just inside the barn door, and returned to his work.

He had one foot in the stirrup when he realized the chicken might be hungry. The woman didn’t look like the type to buy the fancy feed RaeLynn and her daddy sold, so it was probably used to scratching for grubs. Since it was caged, it would need something else to eat.

Detouring toward the tack and feed room, he cupped a handful of grain from the horse’s supply and returned to the front of the barn.

Sure enough, the hen got right to work pecking up the grain. He thought they might be friends now, so he poked a cautious finger through the mesh.

“Hey, chick,” he said. “Hey, chick, chick.”

The chicken drew its head back and jammed its beak into his finger.