Читать книгу Winning Over The Cowboy - Shannon Vannatter Taylor - Страница 11
ОглавлениеFive days since her arrival, and Landry had risen to every challenge Chase had thrown her way. But he was determined to have her gone. This ranch was his family’s legacy, and he wouldn’t give that up to some stranger.
Wonder how she’d feel about helping him with a pregnant cow?
Chase ducked inside the shade of the barn. Fresh hay mixed with the scent of animal. The smell alone should be enough to send her packing. By the time the calf was ready to come, he’d probably be on his own.
He probably shouldn’t conspire against her today, on a Sunday. But he couldn’t help it if the opportunity had presented itself. A grin tugged at his lips as he tapped her number in his contacts.
“Hello, Chase.”
“Are you on the rotation to attend church this morning?”
“Um, no. I told your folks there’s no rush. I don’t want to disrupt anything.”
Yet she’d disrupted everything just by showing up here. “Have you ever seen a calf being born?”
“A couple of times.”
“Never mind, then.” She kept surprising him. “I thought you might want to witness.”
“I do. But I guess I should help prepare for the lunch rush.”
“We’ve got it.” He heard his mom’s voice in the background. “You go. Have fun.”
“Where are you?” Landry asked him.
“In the far west corner of the pen behind the barn. Wash your hands and arms up just in case.” That should give her pause.
“I’ll be there in five.” No hesitation in her voice.
He ended the call. Slid his phone in his pocket, stepped inside the barn to get supplies, took them out near the cow and then went back in to wash up.
As he finished preparations, he heard footfalls and walked outside, his hands held up in the air like a surgeon waiting for a nurse to cover them with gloves. The cow lay on her side, where he’d left her.
“She’s been at it awhile. I might have to pull it,” he said to Landry as she approached.
“My hands are smaller. Let me, if it comes to that.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“Once.” She kept up with his hurried pace. “Do you have a head gate to restrain her?”
“We do, but she’s already down. She’s tame and this isn’t her first calf, so we should be good to go.”
What else was this woman capable of? She was nothing like his sister, who cringed and gagged over baiting her own fish hook.
“How long has she been like this?” Landry asked.
“I knew she was ready a few hours back, and she lay down an hour ago.” As they neared the cow, he saw one hoof. Only one.
“That means the elbow is caught.” She ran her left hand down the russet-colored hide.
He was completely stumped, couldn’t believe she actually knew that. “That just happened during the time I went to call you.”
“We’re here to help you, hon.” She looked up at Chase. “Does she have a name?”
“Penelope. The gloves and lubricant are in the top of the supply box.”
“Okay, Penelope.” She picked up the poly sleeve, slid her right hand into it. It was so long, it wadded up around her shoulder. “Let’s get down to business.”
Penelope flinched, moaned a weak moo as Landry went to work.
“I know, Penny. It’s okay. I’m just gonna see what’s going on.” She gritted her teeth. “Poor girl. You’re already hurting and I’m making it worse. Pet her, Chase.”
“Feel anything?” He ran his fingers along the cow’s neck. “Do you know what to do?”
“There we go. I freed the elbow.” She pulled off her glove and patted Penelope’s hip. “Do your stuff, girl.” She turned to Chase. “Let’s give her a little privacy.”
He was in awe. She really knew the ropes. “We need to keep an eye on things.”
“Over by the barn. She’ll relax better.”
He followed, then settled beside her. Tried to cram his growing respect for her down. Just because she knew her way around a ranch didn’t mean he wanted her owning half of his.
She caught him staring. “What?”
“Who are you, Landry Malone?”
She grinned. “I grew up on a ranch with cattle, worked at a dude ranch for years, and my cousin is a vet. I watched my first calf birth at nine, saw my first pull at twelve, pulled one at seventeen.”
“So, your folks own a Christian bookstore and a ranch?” Sounded like her family had plenty. Like she didn’t need to scam anyone.
“The ranch belongs to my grandparents. I spent lots of time there.”
“You’re nothing like Eden.”
“No.” Her gaze stayed on Penelope, but her smile widened. “Your sister didn’t like to get dirty, hated the smell of farm animals and was afraid of worms.”
“Don’t tell me. Y’all went fishing and you had to bait her hook?”
“Every time.”
“Me, too.” What could Eden have had in common with her? “What made y’all friends?”
“I guess she reminded me of my sister.” She turned to face him, frowned. “And Eden said I reminded her of you. Not sure if that was a compliment.”
He chuckled. “She probably just meant the outdoorsy thing.” Landry wasn’t afraid to get dirty, but that didn’t affect her femininity. He almost wanted to apologize for giving her a hard time. Almost wanted to trust her. But just because she could release a calf, it didn’t mean she wasn’t out to get his inheritance.
“Maybe we could go fishing sometime.”
“Maybe.”
“The other foot just came.” Her awed whisper caught him off guard.
He’d forgotten all about poor Penelope.
Within an hour they had the calf standing.
“So sweet.” Teary-eyed, Landry watched the calf find its legs, the mama nuzzling it along. “Can I name her Petunia?”
“Go for it.”
This was supposed to have tested her mettle. But again, she’d risen to his challenge. He couldn’t let his guard down, though. He had to shake her down if he wanted to keep his family’s ranch in the family. Not in the hands of the interloper his sister had forced on him.
* * *
By lunchtime, Chase’s stomach growled as he smelled the aroma of garlic, onion and tomato sauce drifting from the kitchen. But he didn’t have time to stop and eat. Monday brought lots of errands to run.
From looking at Landry Malone, dainty, pristine, girly, he never would’ve imagined her willingly tackling messy jobs. Nor could he have redone the website if he’d tried. He’d have to do better if he planned to trip her up today. But he was running out of ideas.
In the kitchen, his parents and Landry wore matching food prep hats while they worked.
Mom cleaned the buffet warmer. Dad scrubbed the grill. Landry disinfected the counter, a smile on her face. As if they’d worked together for years. A team. And they had been, several years ago. Back when he’d let his family down—done his traveling thing—Landry had been here to pick up his slack.
But the only thing he knew for certain about her was that she was beautiful. Even with her wavy mane covered by the goofy-looking cap.
He looked over at his mother and saw that she was measuring him. “Have you eaten lunch?”
“I’ll grab something in town.” He cleared his throat. “I have to pick up the new bedspread and run several errands. Need anything?”
Both his parents shook their heads.
Landry bit her lip. “Could I come along?”
No. He did not want to haul her around. “Sure.”
“I need a few things, and I can’t really remember the layout of the town. Is there a Walmart?”
He chuckled. “Thirty minutes away in either Boerne or Kerrville. We have a Dollar General and a grocery store.”
“That’ll work. Just let me get my purse.” She hurried past him, leaving a cloud of flowery perfume mixed with fruity shampoo in her wake. Despite the fact that she’d cooked manicotti and a host of other spicy dishes for lunch.
He followed and waited in the foyer while she went to Granny’s private quarters. A few minutes later she was back, her purse slung over her shoulder.
“I’m ready.” She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail. He’d never been a fan of the style, but she made it look good.
“Let’s go.” He strolled to the door, opened it for her.
Once in the truck, her flowery smell intensified. His vehicle would never be the same.
“So, tell me how you came to live here for a while.” He chanced a glance at her, then backed out of his parking spot. “Back when you were in culinary school with Eden?”
“They never told you?”
“Might have.” He pulled onto the highway. “But I probably wasn’t listening. It’s a guy thing.”
“At least you admit it.” She snickered. “I learned a long time ago—if you don’t talk about trucks, sports, business or livestock, men don’t listen.”
“Brothers?”
“No. Just a sister. A dad. Male cousins. Ranch-hand coworkers.”
“Isn’t Aubrey close to Dallas?”
She kept her eyes on the road. “It is, and I could have gone to school in Dallas. But I was eighteen years old and had never been away from home. I wanted to spread my wings, so I chose the San Antonio option.”
“And Eden invited you to live at the dude ranch?”
“Not exactly. I saw her in class, but we didn’t ever meet.” Her voice filled with reverence when she mentioned his sister. “I had an apartment with a roommate, but our lifestyles didn’t gel. I needed a job, and despite wanting to experience independence, I was lonely.”
“Not once you met Granny, I bet.” Granny always took in strays.
“Definitely not.” She stared out the passenger window. “I saw a help wanted ad for a dude ranch, so I called the number and officially met Eden and Granny. I ended up working for room and board for a year and a half until I finished school. They were like my family away from family. And the dude ranch was home away from home.”
But they weren’t her family. It wasn’t her home.
“What happened to all the trees?”
Dead or dying live oaks lined each side of the road. “Oak wilt. It transfers from tree to tree through the root system. Takes no prisoners, doesn’t stop until everything in its path is dead.”
“That’s so sad. I always loved driving through this area with the twisted, gnarled trees.”
“Looked like they’d stood up to the dry, rocky Texas hillsides for decades and could survive anything. But not oak wilt,” he said as he turned onto Main Street.
“Wow. That was quick.” She scanned the storefronts lining the highway. Ancient rockwork buildings, motorcycles and cars parked in front of each, people strolling along, unhurried. “I could have walked here.”
“I have to go to the log furniture store, get gas for the tractor and hit the hardware store.” He parked halfway between his three destinations. “You can look around if you want.” He checked his watch. “And meet me back here at four.”
“Is lunch in there somewhere?” Her stomach growled and she winced.
“Didn’t you just cook half the day?”
“I can’t eat when I’m cooking. Too many smells.”
“I was gonna just grab something on the go.” He climbed down from the truck. “But tell you what. Let me go to the furniture store, and then we’ll do lunch. Go look around and I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
She met him on the sidewalk, stood there like a lost puppy. “Can I just hang with you?”
What? “It’ll be boring.”
“But I don’t know a soul here. You can introduce me around. I promise not to get in the way.”
“You lived here for eighteen months.” He did not need her tagging along. Looking pretty. Smelling good. Vulnerability shining through. All tempting him to trust her motives. “There are probably folks you knew still around.”
“I never came to town when I lived here except for church. I worked, studied and went to school. Period.”
He squashed a sigh. “Let’s get moving, then.”
“Thanks.” She grinned like he’d just given her the exact gift she’d wanted on Christmas morning.
* * *
Landry could hardly take it all in as she followed Chase through the store. A log dining table with a massive slab of wood for the surface. A log dresser with tree bark drawers. A rocker with a massive log frame and thick, comfy cowhide cushions. She’d thought she’d seen it all at the ranch house. She’d been wrong.
But she couldn’t let herself get distracted. She’d tagged along for the sole purpose of making Chase realize she was a good person—not the interloper he seemed to think she was. She wanted to make him realize running the dude ranch with her wasn’t so bad after all.
“Resa’s usually in the office. You can come with me. Or look around.” He headed to the back of the store.
Resa? Not a common name. The Resa she knew? At a log furniture store? It had to be.
“Chase, there you are.” Landry caught a glimpse of long, dark hair as a woman hugged him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
The voice sounded right. Landry jockeyed for a better glimpse, but Chase followed the woman down a hallway.
Minutes ticked past.
“It’s perfect. I hope our guests will like it.” His voice neared.
Landry ran her hand along a log desk. How could something that used to be a tree be smooth as glass?
“A few may complain, but you can always put them in another room or change bedding. I’ve never had any bad comments from customers on our display.” The woman became visible first. All porcelain skin and contrasting raven hair. Resa. Eden’s friend.
Her thousand-watt smile turned on Landry. “Landry, it’s so good to see you.”
“Yes.” She couldn’t come up with anything else as Resa engulfed her in a hug. A mix of emotion wadded in her throat. Relief in knowing someone, an ally in this town, and grief because the last time she’d seen Resa had been at Eden’s wedding.
“Y’all know each other?” Chase’s frown could have wilted a prickly pear cactus.
“We became friends through Eden.” Resa pulled away. “I was studying drafting, living in San Antonio, while they were in culinary school. We’d meet for lunch at least once a week.”
“Your dream came true.” Landry scrounged up a smile. “You’re the fastest furniture slinger in the west.”
Resa laughed. “Something like that.”
“You own this place?”
“My parents do.”
“I remember now.” Her parents owned a store in San Antonio and this one here in Bandera. And lived next to the dude ranch, Eden and Resa had been lifelong friends.
“What are you doing here?”
“Landry’s my new partner in the ranch.” The resignation in Chase’s voice made her glance at him. But his features were unreadable.
“Of course. Eden’s friend. Why didn’t I realize that when Chase was in here—” Resa linked arms with her. “Don’t let him scare you. He’s all bluster.”
What had Chase said about her? “I love the store. I can’t believe I never visited before.”
“We were too busy studying.” Resa rolled her eyes. “I’m so glad that part of our lives is over. Except for—” She leaned her temple against Landry’s, and her sad tone gave away that she was obviously missing Eden. “We should do lunch sometime. I live at my folks’ place right next to the Donovan property, so we should be able to get together.”
“How about now?” Suddenly lunch with a surly Chase was more than she could handle.
“I’d love to. But I already ate, and I have an appointment with a client.” Resa checked her watch. “He should be here any minute.”
“We’ll get out of your hair, then.” Chase’s large hand settled in the small of Landry’s back.
A shiver went through her.
Not because of him, she told herself. Just at the unexpected touch. Yes, that was it.
“Is he playing nice?” Resa jabbed a finger at him.
“I’ve been a perfect gentlemen.”
Except when you doused me with water. Forced me to unstop a toilet. Used a calf to try to scare me off.
“You call me if he turns ornery.” Resa handed her a business card. “Or for lunch.” She gave Landry one last hug, waved at Chase as he urged her toward the door.
“Chase, how’s it going?” A gray-haired gentleman sat on the church pew outside the store. His skin leathery, a knife in one gnarled hand, an ornate wooden candlestick in the other.
“Things are good. I didn’t see you when we came in.”
“Just got here. Arthritis is acting up something fierce this morning.” His eyes cut to Landry. “Who’s the pretty lady? Got yourself a girlfriend, do ya?”
“No.” Landry’s face heated as her denial blended with Chase’s.
“Hmm.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “Methinks they doth protest too much.”
“My Shakespeare-quoting friend here is Jed Whitlow, the best woodcarver in Bandera. This is Landry Malone, my new business partner.”
Was it just her imagination, or did Chase’s tone turn sour whenever he said that? Like he’d gotten the bitter edge of a pecan hull in his mouth.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
Jed set his knife down, clasped Landry’s hand with surprising strength in his calloused grip. “You, too, young lady. You keep my friend here in line.” He winked at Chase. “She don’t seem so bad.”
“Let’s go.” Chase set his hand in the small of her back again, propelling her toward the restaurant.
Apparently the whole town knew that Landry had usurped Chase’s inheritance. And that he wasn’t happy about it. She’d just have to change everyone’s mind. Even his. No matter how hard he made it.
* * *
All Chase had to do was get through the rest of his errands with Landry in tow.
The waitress took their drink orders, then scurried away. Old Spanish Trail, or OST, as the locals called it, was Chase’s favorite restaurant. It always stirred memories of coming to town for breakfast with Gramps.
“This place is so cool.” Landry scanned the room.
Chase looked around with fresh eyes at the enormous elk behind the breakfast bar—where servers had to duck underneath the creature to deliver plates to patrons seated on saddle-topped stools—the covered-wagon salad bar, and the John Wayne Room practically wallpapered with pictures and memorabilia celebrating the Duke.
“When I was a kid, on rare occasions when the dude ranch didn’t have guests, Gramps used to bring me here for breakfast.”
“I wish I could have known him.”
“He’s been gone since I was fifteen.”
“I’m sorry.” She touched his hand. “You’ve had a lot of loss.”
His gaze dropped to their hands.
She pulled hers away, opened her menu. “What’s good here?”
“Everything.”
Their waitress brought their teas, then took their order of eggs, bacon and pancakes for Chase and a cheeseburger for Landry.
“Still got it?” The gruff voice startled him.
Chase looked up at the older man who’d spoken to him, then dug in his pocket and laid a knife on the table.
“Gave him that knife when he was a young whippersnapper,” the elder continued. “Couldn’t have been more than seven.” His ring-around-the-head hair stood in downy tufts on the sides, looking much like koala bear ears.
“This is Wallace Kern. He was Gramps’s friend.”
“I told him not to lose that knife when I gave it to him, and he hasn’t let me down yet.”
“It’s gotten me out of a lot of scrapes.”
“This your girlfriend?”
“No.” Again they protested together.
“Landry is my new business partner.”
“Ohhhh, so this is her.” Wallace scrutinized her. “Looks harmless enough. Not like some scammer or con artist.”
Landry’s face went scarlet. “You never know. Sometimes those types of folks look pretty ordinary.”
Wallace guffawed. “I like this one. She’s got spunk.” He shoved his hands in his overalls pockets, rocked back on his heels. “I better be getting home to the missus. Nice meetin’ ya, Miss Landry.” Wallace shuffled off.
“So, I guess you complained about me to everybody in town before I got here.”
“Not everybody. Just one somebody who apparently has loose lips.”
“I’m not a scammer.” Something in her eyes tugged at him.
“I sincerely hope not.”
“I never imagined Eden would leave me her share of the dude ranch. I never thought she’d—die.” She looked down at the table. “Yes, I loved my years here, and I love the dude ranch. Yes, living here planted my dream of owning my own someday. But my own.” Her gaze latched on to his. “Not yours.”
The waitress brought their food. Despite the swirling tension, he prayed over their meal, and they fell into silence. Their conversation not bothering their appetites at all.
He wanted to believe her. To trust her. But his family legacy was at stake.
Yet the thing in her eyes that tugged at him—it was hurt.
