* * *
Stoney shook
out the pain in his throbbing thumb for the second time in the last fifteen
minutes. Damn that hammer. Damn the fence. Damn Melanie Summers for showing
up here, flashing easy money around as if he was some mongrel sniffing for
tidbits.
He tossed the
hammer to the ground and inspected the raw skin on his thumb. No doubt the
nail would be black and purple by nightfall. Serves him right for thinking
about Melanie sitting with his mom, no doubt telling her things a mother wants
to hear. He had a hard enough time trying to convince his folks his decision
to go back to rodeo was good for the ranch. He didn’t need the likes of some
city princess to do in all his hard work.
He heard the
familiar sound of his father’s wheelchair rolling over gravel and swung around
to greet him.
“Almost done?”
the elder Buxton asked.
“Done breaking
my hand, if that’s what you mean.” He shook out the lingering throb in his
thumb. “I still have the section of fence in the far side where the herd broke
through yesterday. There’s nothing but that old broken tree limb propped up,
keeping most of the cattle inside the property line. After I’m through, I’ll
take a ride out to see if I can round up the strays.”
He finally
stole a quick glance at his father, who was just sitting in his chair, nodding
his head. No outward emotion registered on his father’s face, but Stoney knew
it was there, buried somewhere, eating at him.
Before the
accident, it would have been the two of them riding out together. But since a
falling beam that struck him during the barn fire left him without the use of
his legs, Wally Buxton was limited to what he could do at the ranch from the
confines of his motorized wheelchair. Knowing his father’s spirit would be
broken if he couldn’t do anything but watch from the porch as he worked the
ranch, Stoney had constructed as many wheelchair friendly devices to allow his
father to work his ranch. Given his father’s determination and
stubbornness--something both father and son shared--he’d made the best of it
without much of a fuss. Still, there were times when his injuries were all too
apparent and confining.
“I’m assuming
the lady has some business with you,” Wally said, eyeing Stoney with
amusement. “You know her from the circuit?”
“Does she look
like the kind that hangs at a cowboy bar?”
“No, but I
can’t figure how you’d meet up with a girl like her otherwise.”
He tossed his
father a wry grin. “Thanks a lot, Pop.”
“She’s got
some accent. Sounds like she’s from the East.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“But you’re
wondering. I can tell. You’ve got Buxton blood running too strong through
your veins not to notice a pretty thing like her.”
“And Mom’s no
doubt pouring tea and planning my wedding, right?”
Wally laughed
hard. “When was the last time you brought a woman out to the ranch for your
momma to meet?”
“Never. And
I’d like to keep it that way.” Stoney couldn’t help but laugh himself. The
kind of woman he’d met during his time with the rodeo weren’t fit for meeting
mother.
Buckle
bunnies. That’s what some of the other cowboys called them. It was almost his
due as a bull rider to have the prettiest offerings, and he’d taken what was
offered when the time seemed right. No promises. No talks of commitment. It
was the way it was.
It was the way
he liked it.
Stoney watched
as Wally stared out at the horizon for a moment, looking at the line of fence
that bordered the property. This was the ranch he’d grown up on and his father
before him. It was small in comparison to some of the other ranches in the
area, but it earned them a good living, and it made them happy. Working
together, they’d worked on expanding the ranch before the barn fire changed
everything. But all those dreams died when the barn went up in flames.
“You going to
tell me what her business is here?” Wally finally asked. “Or is she some well
kept secret?”
Stoney began
hammering away at the barbed wire against the stake. “She wants a trail guide
through the Wind River Mountains. I told her to go to the reservation.”
There was a
silence made unbearable by the sun beating down on him, showing no mercy. And
Stoney knew what his father was wondering. How on earth had she landed
here?
Stoney answered
his unspoken question, finding it hard to look his father in the eye. “Gerald
Hammond sent her.”
There was
another strained silence. Wally cleared his throat. “That was kind of him to
be thinking of us.”
“I guess.”
“What did you
tell her?”
“I don’t have
time for this. I’ve got too much work and with Mitch gone and...” Stoney blew
out a frustrated breath and hammered with more force than necessary.
“Hammond must
have thought it would be worth your while if he went out of his way to send the
girl here.”
Stoney
stilled. He knew exactly what was on his father’s mind. Medical bills left in
the wake of Wally’s injuries threatened to take hold. Although the money
Melanie was offering to pay for his services would go a long way toward bailing
out the ranch, it still wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. He’d weighed all
their options, run the numbers backwards and forwards until his head hurt, and
none of it looked good. Going back to rodeo seemed liked the answer to his
prayers. A step in the right direction anyway.
The cowboy’s
Christmas is what they called it on the rodeo circuit. The biggest rodeos and
the best purses were up for grabs for the best of the best during the month of
July. Stoney would be up against the best bull riders the circuit had ever
seen. Up until a year ago, he’d been considered one of the best. He was
banking on that still being true.
“This last year
was worse than we’ve seen in a long time for the ranch. Taxes are higher.
Medical bills are out of control. We’re running out of choices, son,” Wally
said, still looking out at nothing in the horizon.
Stoney felt his
chest tighten. This ranch had Buxton blood and sweat all over it. He didn’t
want to think about what would happen if they lost is all. “I know, Pop.
That’s why I’m going back to rodeo. I made some good money before, and it’s
helped the ranch. There’s no reason-”
“You know how
your momma feels about you riding rodeo again. One cripple on this ranch is
enough.”
Fire spit
through Stoney. He straightened his spine and towered over his father in the
wheelchair. Before the accident, they use to meet eye to eye. “You’re not a
cripple, Pop,” Stoney said, softer than the fire in him would have allowed if
he hadn’t taken control of it. Despite his obvious position over his father,
Stoney felt like a little kid defending his hero. And his father had
been--still was--his hero for all of his twenty-eight years. Being confined to
a wheelchair had wounded his father’s heart, but not his spirit. Wally Buxton
still had the power of an ox.
They stared at
each other for a long while, not needing words to hear their thoughts. That’s
the way it had been with them for as long as Stoney could remember. Wally was
the one to break through the silence. “Come on. Your momma made some cherry
pie and I’m sure Ms. Summers isn’t going to touch it, so we might as well have
at it.”
He didn’t have
time for another break today. He’d already wasted too much time warding off
Melanie Summers and her wild ideas. His work load had doubled since Mitch
Broader, their only ranch hand, left to take care of family business back
east. With his father out of commission, that left the brunt of the ranch’s
workload on Stoney’s shoulders.
He blew out a
resigned breath, knowing it was important to his father. “Sure, Pop.”
He walked
alongside the motorized wheelchair. He was getting accustomed to slowing his
wide strides to keep in step with his father as the chair moved against the
gravel. He stayed at his father’s side out of respect the man deserved. His
father rolled into the house before him.
He found
Melanie sitting at the dining room table, one long leg draped over the other, a
smile that seemed curiously triumphant written on her face. His mother wore an
uplifted expression he hadn’t seen in her for the better part of a year.
What the hell
was going on?
Adele pushed
the dining room chair aside so Wally could position his wheelchair at the head
of the oak table. “Melanie and I were just having a lovely chat about her
plans while she’s in Wyoming.”
Stoney eyed
Melanie, a nagging suspicion floating up his spine. “Oh? And what would they
be?”
Melanie averted
her gaze for just a moment before lifting her soft brown eyes to him, shining a
Cheshire cat grin, and giving fuel to that eerie feeling taking hold of his
gut. One bat of her dark eyelashes and he knew he’d been had.
* * *
“Didn’t you
hear a damn thing I told you by the corral?” Stoney said, storming out the door
after Melanie. He’d held his anger in place long enough to make it out the
screened door, slamming it in his wake. “You’ve got no business coming here,
filling my family full of dreams that aren’t going to come true.”
Melanie spun on
her boot heels, propped her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, and looked at
Stoney over the wire rim. “I have every intention of fulfilling my end of the
bargain.”
“No one in their
right mind would throw around that kind of money. My family has been through
enough to-”
“Which is why I
think this business arrangement will work out well for both of us.”
“Now how do you
figure on that? Who’s gonna do all the work around here for the next month
while I’m out there traipsing through the wilderness, keeping your pretty
little hide alive. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re a little short of hand
right now.”
“With the money
I’m prepared to pay, you’ll be able to hire someone to take your place. As for
keeping me alive, I don’t want any special treatment. I can hold my own.”
Stoney
sputtered. “That one is still open for debate. Do you even know what it costs
to hire a ranch hand to work sun up to sun down for a whole month?”
“Fifteen thousand
dollars is not all that much for what I’m asking,” she said. It was much
higher than she’d originally intended on paying, but a lot lower than she’d
consider if Stoney could do for her what Gerald Hammond said he could.
Stoney’s face
hardened. “Money like that may be nothing to you, but it keeps bread on the
table for working folks.”
“I didn’t mean
to imply-”
“I know what
you meant to do. You think you can buy me like a piece of stock at a cattle
auction. I’m not for sale. And I’d appreciate kindly if you’d leave my family
out of whatever death wish you have.”
She stifled a
retort about the death wish and kept to the pressing issue. I can’t do that.
This is much too important to me.” He shook his head and stared at her like he
was looking right through her.
She was struck
by his strength once again as he fought to keep his control in check. The
tight set of his jaw belied his control and she got the feeling he could lift
her without any effort and toss her over the fence if she pushed him.
And she’d push
him, all right. It meant that much to her to prove to her father and herself
that she could last a whole month in the wilderness without the aid of medical
intervention. Only then would her father agree to keep the funding for the
Kenya project. But she knew her father. He was determined to keep her from
going at all cost. And he had a lot more money than she could combat with
which to do it.
“Adele told me
about the hard times the ranch has had. This money could help you and your family.
I’m glad to be able to do that for them. The only thing I ask is that no one
knows we’ve gone.”
“What’s this
all about? Why is this so important?”
“My reasons are
my business.”
He crossed his
muscled arms across the expanse of his chest and studied her for a moment.
“You wanted for something?”
She giggled at
the sidelong look of suspicion he gave her. Not only because of the absurdity
of it, but because he just looked too damned cute. “You’ve got an imagination
to go along with all that muscle. No, I’m not on the run for any crimes.”
Only from my father and his control. But that was none of Stoney Buxton’s
business, and she was determined to keep it quiet.
He eyed her,
the tick in his jaw twitching, telling her he didn’t find any of this amusing.
She coughed out
the rest of her laughter, knowing she wasn’t going to get very far irritating
him. He was a business man. She knew how to handle business men, although
most of them wore designer suits and smelled of expensive cologne, unlike the
sweat and dirt she smelled on Stoney. Still, she turned on her best charm.
“Look, I don’t know you.”
“True enough.”
“And I don’t
know what kind of struggles you and your family have gone through. That’s
really none of my business.”
“Right.”
“But it doesn’t
take much more than 20/20 vision to look around here and figure out you could
use a little help.”
He rolled his
eyes and stepped off the porch stairs. “I’m not looking for charity.”
“You need
money,” she said to his back.
Stoney swung
around to face her again, tossing her a cool look. “And you’re just the person
to open the check book.”
She cocked her
head. “Don’t be foolish. This could help both of us. You don’t look like the
type of man to shy away from honest money.”
He drew in a
deep breath and could hardly look her in the eye. She knew he wouldn’t step
anywhere near her request if it held the stench of a handout. Men like Stoney
were as complicated as the earth was old and the ground ran deep. For him, it
had to be honest and earned. Nothing less would do.