How to Wrangle a Cowboy (37 page)

“You know, you might be right.”

She turned and embraced him, resting her head against his chest and listening to the steady
thump-thump
of his heart.

“Maybe he left me the ranch so I could save myself.” She was talking more to herself than to Shane. “Maybe he understood.”

She could feel Shane relaxing and knew he was smiling when he rested his cheek against her hair. “I’m sure he did. Your granddad loved you.”

Lindsey stood there, absorbing Shane’s warmth and remembering the dream she’d dreamed so long ago. She’d pictured a sort of
Peaceable Kingdom
, an animal sanctuary populated with homeless dogs and cats and horses. Now she pictured herself and Shane right in the center of it, making it work.

“You’re right.” She pushed him away, feeling suddenly sure of the path before her. “My grandfather’s opened a door for me, but I have to be the one to walk through it.” She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him, a big, silly smack on the lips. “You’re awesome, you know that? I know what to do now. I need to get started.”

“Started on what?”

“Plans.” She gave him a mysterious smile. “I have some ideas for this place—big ideas.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t change too much.”

“I won’t. But it’s time for me to learn all I can about the place, and to put my own stamp on what we do, okay? I think I know what Bud wanted now. I think I’m sure.”

He was smiling slightly as she walked away, and she held that image of him in her head as long as she could. Because she wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe, just maybe, she’d found the man she was supposed to be with and the work she was meant to do, right here in the one spot in the world where she belonged.

And when the universe pulled everything together like that, you had to listen.

* * *

Shane was stepping out of the shower when he heard the sound of sawing and hammering coming from the direction of the barn.

He’d just come back from chaperoning a field trip with Cody, and he was exhausted from wrangling thirty first graders through the state capital. They’d sat through a long, dull session of the state legislature, watching as their bill to declare the lodgepole pine the state tree was passed into law.

He’d been looking forward to a hot shower and a cold beer when he got home, but the beer would have to wait, because the hammering meant someone was working on a project. On his ranch. And he didn’t know what it was.

It’s Lindsey’s ranch
, he reminded himself.
Lindsey’s.

She was probably building some kind of elaborate palace for those danged chickens. He couldn’t really object to that, especially if it meant the birds would be cooped up, where they couldn’t ruin another pair of his boots. He jogged over to the barn, hair dripping wet, shirt half-buttoned.

When he saw who was on the business side of the hammer, he felt a rush of relief. Whatever was being done, it would be done right, because Riley, the woman who ran the hardware store, was a genius with anything related to building.

But what was she building? Piles of two-by-fours and sheets of plywood were stacked in the barn’s wide apron, and rolls of wire and fencing rested against the front of the barn. This looked like much more than a mere chicken coop.

Acid stewed low in his gut as he knelt beside Riley.

“Hey.”

She flicked her long, pale ponytail aside and looked up from her measuring tape.

“Hey, Lockhart.”

That was a Riley thing. She called all the men by their last names, as if she was one of the guys. It probably helped her blend into the world of band saws and two-by-fours, drywall and electrical tape.

“Who’s watching the store?”

“Ed’s taking a turn.”

“So did Lindsey hire you to do something?”

“Yeah.” She stood. “I’m converting the horse stalls on this side into kennels,” she said. “It’ll be cool. The dogs’ll have inside space in the barn, and individual runs outside. The runs will open up to a group play area.”

“Dogs? Group play area?”

She nodded again. “Yeah, for the shelter.”

“Shelter?”

Riley grimaced. “Shit. You didn’t know, did you?”

Chapter 46

Shane didn’t have to look far to find Lindsey. She was just outside the barn’s back door, grooming Parsnip and singing her heart out. Normally, he’d have stopped to watch and listen. He’d have admired the way she moved, the unself-conscious way she sang slightly out of tune.

But today, all he could think of was the time she’d spent planning and dreaming, working out her big ideas without saying a word to him.

It was disrespectful, a slap in the face. He ought to be furious, but instead he felt confused and nauseous, as if his doubts and fears and questions were all tangled into a knot in his gut. And if he was honest with himself, those doubts weren’t just about the ranch. They were the same fears he always felt when he found himself caring too much about someone.

Lindsey dropped a currycomb into a bucket and plucked out a comb. Whispering softly to the horse, she began working knots out of her mane. He felt his heartbeat shift into high gear and knew, just knew, what his problem was.

He was in love with her. Too much in love. His hands shook lately, and he was alternately cold with fear and hot with desire.

How could he possibly feel this way about a woman who was working behind his back, changing everything he cared about? Making the ranch into an animal sanctuary would take away everything he’d worked for—his job, his livelihood, his purpose.

He ought to just leave. Go work for Ridge and Brady. But leaving the Lazy Q meant leaving Lindsey—and he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“Oh, good. It’s you.” She grinned at him over Parsnip’s neck. “I need to talk to you.”

“No kidding.” He bit the words off sharply. “I just ran into Riley over at the barn. She tells me she’s building dog kennels.”

She stopped her combing mid-tangle, her pink cheeks going pale. He didn’t know when she’d planned to tell him what she was doing, but he was sure now that it hadn’t been today.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but you were busy. I didn’t know Riley would be here so fast. Usually she’s booked up so far in advance…” Her words faded away when she turned to sit down and saw his face. “What I’m doing is—”

“I know what you’re doing.” Interrupting was rude, but he didn’t care. “You’re making your dreams come true.” He hated the mocking tone of his voice, but he couldn’t help himself.

She went back to her grooming, working at a tangle with her fingers. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not bad.” He leaned against the barn wall, taking a deep breath and doing his best to exhale his anger. Lindsey was naive, that was all. She honestly believed she could make this work, and her motives were pure. That was what he loved about her. She truly wanted to make the world a better, kinder place.

She wasn’t deliberately sabotaging the Lazy Q. He needed to handle this without hurting her. He’d swallow his pride and anger and pain, and be his best self. Whoever that was.

“How are you going to pay for it?” He rested one hip against the rail and folded his arms over his chest. “All those strays have to eat, you know. And how are you going to find adopters? You’re miles from the nearest town, and Wynott’s hardly big enough to absorb all the critters you’ll end up with. It’s crazy, Lindsey. It won’t work.”

“Yes, it will.” She rested her forearms on the mare’s broad back. “I’ve filed for nonprofit status, and designed kennels and runs for dogs and cats. I took out a loan with my half of the practice as collateral, and Riley helped me make sure the renovations meet state standards.” She paused for breath and went on before he could say a word. “I’ve researched grants that are available for what we’ll be doing, and worked out a public relations campaign. We’ll start with local news, then spread out. We’ll have a camp too, for kids like Sierra’s, so we can teach them young about caring for animals.
Rescue Ranch
, we’ll call it.”

She leaned forward as she spoke, waving the comb to paint pictures in the air. Parsnip stood patiently, providing a solid place for Lindsey’s presentation, but Shane didn’t hear half of what she said.

“You’ve been working on this idea for a long time.”

She nodded, looking miserable.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“I kept meaning to.” She pushed away from the horse and dropped the comb in the bucket with a loud clang. Startled, Parsnip kicked up her heels and ran a few steps, then forgot what she was running from and relaxed again. Lindsey walked over and smacked her rump, sending her off to join the other horses at a sedate walk.

“I was gone one day,” he said. “One day, for Cody’s field trip. And you managed to change everything while my back was turned. Because you’ve been planning. Scheming.”

“Not scheming. I don’t scheme, Shane.”

She was right. He knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him. But when he looked over at the barn and pictured it teeming with old dogs, stray cats, and ancient horses, he saw them eating their sorry hearts out, contributing nothing to the operation of the ranch. And the herd—it would be gone, no doubt, sold off to pay for this foolishness.

He couldn’t let that happen. Unless and until Lindsey fired him, he was the foreman of the Lazy Q, and it was his job to make sure the ranch stayed in the black. That meant it was his duty to derail this crazy idea before Lindsey went too far.

Sighing, he plucked a blade from the tall grass and stuck the tender stem in his mouth. Leaning up against the barn beside Lindsey, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“It’s just not practical, you know?” He gentled his tone as best he could. “At least start small.” He shook his head ruefully. “I guess we could rescue some dogs since the kennels are probably half-built already.”

Her expression didn’t change, so he tried again.

“Look at the horses. Grace has ten of ’em now, and more are coming all the time. They eat a big chunk of the profits, but it’s okay. It’s her hobby, you know? And you can have a hobby too.”

She pushed off the barn and gave him a long, hard look.

“It’s not a hobby, Shane. It’s a mission. And I’m doing it. I’m not letting any man stomp on my dreams, not ever again.” She kicked at a stone with the toe of her boot. “A hobby. Thanks for taking me seriously.”

She tossed her hair and gave him a cold, hard glare.

And in that moment, he knew he’d lost her.

* * *

Lindsey had known Shane wouldn’t like her plans at first, but she’d figured he’d at least listen and think them through. She’d thought he respected her enough that he’d try to make it work.

Apparently, she’d been wrong. He didn’t respect her, and he wasn’t going to listen to her ideas. He was no different from Rodger.

No. That wasn’t fair. She’d looked into Shane’s eyes when they were making love, and she’d seen him watch when Cody played. This man had a heart far bigger than he realized, but he was afraid to open it, afraid to take risks. And that fear extended to every part of his life. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d step off a cliff just to see if he’d land on his feet.

That’s why they were so good together. Her cliff-jumping tendencies balanced out his stick-in-the-mud stubbornness. They could still be a team. She just had to make him listen.

She didn’t want to make a choice between the man of her dreams and the life she wanted to live. She wanted both.

If that was greedy, then she was the greediest woman in the world.

“Listen,” she said. “If everyone was practical, there’d be no art, no music, and certainly no animal shelters. There’d be no people shelters for the homeless either. They’d just die on the streets.” She spun to face him. “There’d be no foster homes for kids. I guess we’d just give up on boys like Josh and Isaiah.”

He blinked. She had him now.

“If everyone was practical, an old rancher wouldn’t have taken a chance on three troubled teenaged boys. God knows where you’d be if it wasn’t for
impractical
people.”

His dark eyes seemed to go black, despite the sunshine slanting through the porch rail.

“You’re right,” he said. “God knows where I’d be. But I’d be somewhere.” He stood and moved to the railing, looking out at the pasture, at the mountains, everywhere but at her. “And as for those impractical people, I’m not one of ’em. And I didn’t think you were either.” He gestured toward the barn. “Lindsey, this ranch was a gift from your grandfather. Do you want to take a chance on losing it? I know you’ve got more sense than this.”

“Seriously?” She shook her hair back and stood firm, her stance challenging. “I accepted a chicken as payment for a bill. If you think I’ve got sense, you’d better think again.”

She looked at the man she’d begun to love, the man she’d hoped to share her life with, and knew she’d made a terrible mistake. Again.

He hadn’t asked her if she’d made a business plan—although she had. He hadn’t asked if she’d rounded up funding from the state and some corporate grants—but she had. He hadn’t asked how she planned to run her rescue operation. He’d just declared her an impractical dreamer, without even thinking about it.

But Lindsey knew a lot about dreams. She’d learned about them from the experts.

When her grandparents had come to the Lazy Q back in the fifties, it had been a broken-down, overgrazed, poorly run ranch that was failing fast. Bud himself had been a little broken-down, and his stunt-riding career was nothing but dust.

But he’d had a dream and a woman who believed in him. He’d often told her how many people had told him the Lazy Q would break him, but Grace had never doubted him.

Lindsey had thought maybe she and Shane could be the same way—accomplishing more together than they ever could separately. But he didn’t believe in her at all.

Maybe her ideas looked foolish to outsiders, but it was a
good
sort of foolishness—the kind that edged over into wisdom. They were ideas born of caring deeply for the helpless and the innocent, of wanting to make a difference. With commitment and passion, intelligence and energy, she knew she could make it happen.