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Authors: Joanne Kennedy

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BOOK: How to Wrangle a Cowboy
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She got busy though, unhitching a bungee cord to release a row of shopping bags she’d tethered in the truck bed. He hurried to help.

“What’s all this?”

Dillard’s, Corral West, Just Dandy—it looked as if they’d hit every women’s clothing store in Cheyenne.

“Lindsey insisted I need summer clothes in case I visit her in Charleston,” Grace tinkled out a giggle. “I humored her.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as Lindsey trotted into the house with an armful of bags. “We both know I’ll never get there.”

Shane didn’t respond. He couldn’t—not with the aching lump in his throat that swelled up whenever he thought of losing Grace. He’d tried to tell himself she was Lindsey’s problem, but deep inside, he loved the old woman like family.

Lugging bags up to the house, he wondered what the hell was happening to his well-planned life. Lindsey would never get the money she needed. Her vet practice was more charity than business, and the trinkets she’d gathered from the tack room and the attic weren’t enough to make a difference.

She danced back out to the car with a light step that seemed strangely joyful and carefree for a woman who was about to lose her family’s legacy. As she threw her head back and laughed at something her grandmother said, he wondered how she could be so happy.

Maybe she didn’t need the ranch or the money or anything else. She was one of those people who carried her own light wherever she went, warming every room she walked into simply by being there.

What would she ever want with a doom-and-gloom worrywart like him?

But he wanted her, as much as he’d ever wanted anything, and something inside him insisted he belonged with her, here at the Lazy Q.

But deep down, he wasn’t sure where he belonged. Lindsey was a lot like her grandmother; anything could happen when she was around. What if she went back to Charleston? What if she stayed, but sold the herd?

Either way, he’d end up as lost as he’d ever been, cast adrift to fend for himself.

And Cody. At least he had Cody.

He needed to put these foolish dreams about Lindsey to rest, and concentrate on what really mattered.

* * *

Lindsey sat on Shane’s porch swing, dangling one toe so she could keep the bench swaying ever so slightly while she waited for him to finish the evening chores. She should have helped him, but his scowl of disapproval had threatened to derail her happy train, so she’d decided he could just wait. She’d tell him her good news when he was in a more receptive frame of mind.

But the longer she sat there, the more she wondered how good her news would seem to Shane.

What would he think of the changes she wanted to make? And how would he feel when he found out that the secret she’d held so close was a con man’s lie all along? She hadn’t trusted him, but she
had
believed William Ward.

Heck, when she thought about that,
she
didn’t like herself very much.

When he finally arrived, he was dusty and dirty from a long day in the barn. Shreds of hay and straw lay in the folds of his shirt, and his rolled-up sleeves revealed a new and painful-looking scrape along one muscular forearm.

“Thanks for the chicken coop,” she said. “It’s perfect.”

“Well, tell that to your fine feathered friends. They weren’t very appreciative.” As he sat down beside her, she saw that the scrape was just one of many small but painful-looking injuries. “Dang near pecked me to death.”

She ran her hand along his arm, wishing she had magic in her touch that could make the little cuts go away.

There was magic, all right, but it wasn’t hers. Touching him made her tingle in places that had nothing to do with his injuries.

He stretched one arm across the back of the swing. “This is getting to be a regular thing.”

“What is?”

“You and me. Porch swing. Sunset.” He nodded toward the mountains, which were edged in gold as the sun sank behind them.

She turned to him, cheeks pinking, heart dancing. What if this actually was a regular thing? What if she went inside with him every night when the sun went down? What if they talked about their day, made dinner for Cody, spent the evening together? What if it was a regular thing for them to make love every night?

She wanted to take his work-roughened hands in her own, to share her joy with him as openly as she’d shared her body, but he stood suddenly and crossed to the rail to stare out at the fields. The swing swayed crazily in his wake.

Obviously, he’d spoken before thinking. And just as obviously, he regretted it.

Stopping the swing with one foot, she did her best to imitate one of Grace’s careless little laughs, but it came out sounding a little crazy.

“I don’t know about any ‘regular thing,’ but I know you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.” Wringing every ounce of confidence from her hurting heart, she did her best to push words past the lump in her throat. “I’m staying. I need to figure out what to do with my practice, but that’s a minor detail. The major one—the money one—is solved.”

“That was quick.” His expression was unreadable, but he definitely didn’t look pleased or happy or excited. “So where’d you get the money? And what was the big secret?” Folding his arms across his chest, he glared at her from under lowered brows. “Can you tell me now, or am I still not worthy?”

Chapter 40

Lindsey hadn’t expected her revelation to be greeted with a celebration, but congratulations might have been nice. Instead, Shane was sarcastic. Angry. Disgusted, even.

She knew he’d wanted her to trust him with her problem. She supposed she might feel the same way in his position. But in a way, he hadn’t trusted
her.
When she’d said the secret wasn’t hers to tell, he hadn’t believed her.

Oh, it was all so confusing. And none of it mattered, except that Shane was upset.

She clasped her hands in her lap and spilled the whole story, quick as she could. It was like ripping off a Band-Aid—it hurt less if you did it fast.

“There was a man who said he was Bud’s son,” she said. “He threatened to tell Grace about Bud’s affair with his mother if I didn’t give him two hundred thousand dollars.”

“And you believed him?”

She nodded, staring down at her hands.

“You thought
I
was a con man.” He turned and stared out at the gathering darkness. “Why did you believe this guy?”

“He looks just like Bud. Honest. I still can’t believe the resemblance.” She leaned toward him. “You saw him. At the funeral, remember?”

“Shit. William Ward?”

She felt as if all the air in her lungs had suddenly been whisked away by the Wyoming wind. “You knew who he was?”

“Yeah. He came to see Bud a while back. Wanted money or something. I don’t know what all was said, but it didn’t go well. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to show up at the funeral.”

She wanted to shake him. Heck, she wanted to
kill
him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

She thought back. She hadn’t, had she? She’d told Shane she thought the man might steal something and asked him to watch him. And he had.

He came back to the swing and sat down, taking her hands. Her silly heart leaped, but he was sitting as far away as he could. He was probably holding her hands to make sure she was paying attention, because he thought she was an idiot.

“There’s something you don’t understand about the West,” he said. “About ranchers and ranching.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty I don’t know.”

“But this is the one thing that matters, okay? So listen.” He shook their joined hands, and she met his eyes so he’d know she was paying attention. “Nobody can do it alone.” He shook her hands again, squeezing. “We’re all in it together, families, friends, and neighbors. There’s no such thing as the Lone Rancher.”

She started to laugh at the pun, then realized how serious he was when he dropped her hands and stood as suddenly as he’d sat down. He ran a hand through his hair and began to pace as he continued.

“You’ve had this place in an uproar ever since you got here, just because you couldn’t trust your foreman or your family.” He rubbed the back of his neck with an irritated gesture. “You couldn’t even trust Bud.”

“I trusted my lawyer.”

He spun to face her.

“Over me? Over Grace? What would Adriana know? And let me guess. She didn’t tell her father?”

“No. It was confidential. I admired her for that.”

He strode quickly to the other side of the porch and stared out at the gathering darkness, as if he didn’t want to even look at her.

Anger surged in her chest like a fast-building storm cloud. She stood so quickly the swing pitched back, then slammed into the back of the knees so hard they nearly buckled.

“What do you care? This is your
job
. A week ago, you were talking to Sierra about walking away from this place. For me, there’s a little more at stake.”

He turned to defend himself, but she didn’t give him a chance.

“I was
protecting
Grace. That’s all I was thinking about. That, and being worthy of Bud’s trust. I thought he’d
known
this would happen. I figured it was the reason he’d left the ranch to me, so Grace wouldn’t find out.”

She spread her hands wide to indicate her faux Western clothes—the cute little bandanna, the shirt she’d bought just for this trip. “I’m no rancher. You know that. So why else would he do it?”

“You’re
family
,” he said. “You’ve never understood that. And I can’t believe I’m the one who has to explain it to you.”

She lifted her chin. “How do you know what I understood and what I don’t?”

“You don’t understand honor.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. He pointed an accusing finger at her face. “Your grandfather was the most honest, upright man I ever knew. You really thought he’d cheat on
Grace
?”

The answer came in a rush of bitter memories. “I didn’t know what to believe. I hadn’t seen them in so long. And my marriage—I haven’t exactly been seeing the best in human nature lately.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Frankly, I can believe just about anything about any man.”

“But this was your
grandfather.
And your family. And—well, I thought you trusted me. You did once. The—the other night.” He looked away, and she wondered if even tough cowboys blushed once in a while.

Staring down at the floor, her cheeks pinking, she searched her mind for an answer and found it in a flash of inspiration. “You have brothers, right?”

He nodded.

“Would you tell me your brothers’ secrets?”

“I guess not.” He sighed. “That doesn’t say much about our relationship, does it?”

She laughed, a little more this time. “I’m not sure we
have
a relationship. But it does say we’re both trustworthy and loyal. That we protect our families. And that’s a good thing.”

He sat down beside her. “I guess you have a point.” He stared off into the distance, where the last few fingers of light bid good-bye to the day. “Obviously, trust is a big deal to me. Giving it, and getting it.”

“Me too.”

They rocked a while in silence. Lindsey could feel the fight between them fading, the anger drifting off into the night.

“So where are we, here?” Shane finally asked.

She didn’t want to answer. She didn’t
have
an answer. It had been easy to fall into bed with him, because it was so safe at the time. She’d been sure she was going back to Charleston, so it was an adventure. A fling.

But she’d gotten much more than she’d bargained for. Even now she longed for this conversation to be over so she could touch him, kiss him, make love to him.

She’d fallen, all right. And not just into bed. She’d fallen in love.

But she had a feeling that was a terrible mistake. Shane was a cowboy through and through, with old-fashioned manners and old-fashioned values. Rodger had had old-fashioned values too. They meant he was always right and the woman—whether Lindsey or some news anchor on TV—was always wrong. He’d always delivered that verdict with a condescending chuckle.

Old-fashioned values had also had meant that Lindsey came second. Her career, her life, her plans—they always came second to Rodger’s.

She hadn’t seen those tendencies in Shane, but she needed to be careful. It scared her how easily she could turn over her life to this man, just as she’d once turned it over to Rodger.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Shane said. “Just be honest. Can we do that?”

“Sure.” The comment shot a little arrow into her heart, and it stung. “You want honesty? Here it is. I don’t know where we are. Since my marriage crashed and burned, I’m not ready for anything serious, and I know you need something serious for Cody.”

To her surprise, Shane chuckled. “Cody’s already serious about you. Whether or not there’s a you and me, I think there’s a you and Cody. Since you’re staying, I guess that’s all right.”

He sounded happy, finally. Almost normal. She felt a darkness inside her lift, as if the sun had risen again in her personal sky.

“You’re not worried about disappointing him?”

“Of course I’m worried. Heck, I’m worried about everything. I’m worried about him falling off a cliff. I’m worried about him tumbling into the well.”

“We have a well? And where’s the cliff?” In her mind, she took a quick tour of the ranch and found neither.

“Nowhere.” He smiled. “We don’t have a cliff, and our well isn’t the kind you can fall into. But I’m still worried about it.”

“Oh.”

“But Cody’s six. You’ve heard his ideas on love and marriage. As long as we’re friends, he won’t know the difference. And if you’re staying, he’ll still get to see you. That’s good for him.” He paused, looking into her face as if gauging just how much he’d trust her. Who could blame him? He’d been tied, at least briefly, to a woman who inspired seventy-year-old women to brandish their canes and cuss like street toughs.

“It’s good for me too,” he finally said. “Let’s take it slow. See where the road takes us. Okay?”

BOOK: How to Wrangle a Cowboy
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