Cowboy Tough (25 page)

Mack pitched himself into the old leather office chair, waving away the puff of dust that rose from the cushion. He'd definitely neglected the business side of ranching for too long.

Turning on the ancient desktop computer, he pulled out an old-fashioned ledger as the machine hummed to life. His mother had never really mastered the computer bookkeeping system he'd started for her, so she noted everything in the ledger and he caught up as best he could whenever he was around.

He flipped the big book open, scanning page after page of familiar handwriting. The early pages were in his father's neat block penmanship; the later ones in his mother's slanted chicken-scratch.

He flipped one page, then another, and suddenly the handwriting changed. This had to mark Ollie's tenure. In some lapse caused by grief or blind love, his mother had handed the books over to Ollie. Mack knew they'd be a mess, but he'd have to put them together as best he could. He'd need to inventory supplies and equipment, try and match things up, figure out just what Ollie had stolen and what he'd left behind.

He puzzled over the cryptic entries for a while, then gave up and grabbed a stack of unopened mail his mother had leaned up against the monitor. It was time to face the music—and the unpaid bills.

The first envelope was for the new liability insurance his mother had taken out to cover the dude ranch. It was a big chunk of change, but the next installment didn't come due until spring and by then they'd hopefully have calves on the ground to sell. The bred heifers up in the north pasture were about all the assets the ranch had left, but if all went well they'd pay off the mortgage installment, the insurance, and whatever else the dudes didn't pay for.

He picked up another envelope. It was handwritten, with a local return address.

Sullivan Ranch.

Well, that was odd. He didn't much like Sullivan, who treated his hands badly and his livestock worse. The man was all about the money. Mack doubted a communication from him could possibly be good news.

Sullivan's chicken-scratch was even harder to decipher than Maddie's, and Mack had to scan the letter several times to make sense of it. Something about missing cattle, and numbers not matching a bill of sale. He flipped to the second page. It was a bill of sale all right, and Mack recognized Ollie's handwriting from the ledgers. He scanned the form for half a second, then swore and shoved the chair back from the desk so hard it careened across the rough wooden floor and slammed into the wall.

Barely noticing the impact, Mack slumped forward and put his head in his hands.

Ollie had sold the herd. Sullivan claimed he'd bought them, and there were several head missing. He wanted Mack to make it right, but Mack didn't have his money.

Ollie did.

Mack didn't have anything.

***

Cat almost groaned aloud at the sound of approaching footsteps on the dirt path to the cabin. Hastily wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her hands, she smoothed her hair and pasted on a smile. She had a feeling it wasn't very convincing, but it would have to do.

What little smile she'd been able to muster faltered when she saw Mack's face. The lines on either side of his mouth were deeper than usual, and the creases at the corners of his eyes that normally looked outdoorsy and kind of sexy simply made him look exhausted tonight. He looked like he'd just heard about a death, or some kind of terrible disaster.

“What's wrong?” She jerked to her feet. “Is Viv okay? Maddie?”

“They're fine.” He brushed past her almost rudely, stepping inside the cabin. She was pretty sure he'd have shut the door on her if Maddie hadn't force-fed him on manners all his life. As it was, he kept his back to her when she followed him inside. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he was staring straight ahead through the window, as if he was watching the grass grow.

“What's wrong?” she repeated. “Did Trevor press charges?”

“No. But if he did, at least I'd have a jail cell to live in. The way things are going, I won't have much else. Neither will my mom. Or Viv.”

She put her hands on his shoulders and kneaded the tense muscles. “Tell me.”

He turned to face her and she wrapped her arms around him. He held her, reluctantly at first, but when she rested her head on his chest she felt him relax and he pulled her close.

“I don't want to drag you into this,” he whispered into her hair.

“You're not dragging me,” she said. “I'm coming along of my own free will.”

He held her a moment, then let her go and turned away. “Ollie sold the cattle. Sold them and took the money. I was counting on that cash from the calves to cover bills in the spring. Without it, there's no way we can hang on to the ranch.”

She followed his gaze through the window to the land beyond. It didn't look like much from here—just a broad expanse of rough grass dotted with sagebrush and rocks. But she knew it was everything to Mack.

“Did Ollie have a right to sell them?”

Mack shrugged. “No, but it won't matter. It'll end up in court. Sullivan's a litigious bastard, and we can't afford a lawyer.”

“But we saw the cows,” she said. “Cattle. Whatever. They were in your pasture. You showed them to us just the other day.”

He nodded. “Sullivan's counted them, though, which means he probably rounded them up. He says three are missing. He says I owe him for that.” He let out a mirthless huff of laughter that almost broke her heart.

“Maybe he didn't take them yet.”

“Maybe.” He looked dubious.

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law, right?”

“Maybe.” He scratched his head and grimaced. “We're grasping at straws here, but maybe.”

She ran her hands up his arms and nested her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. “Can you do anything about it now?” she asked.

He gazed out at the darkening plain. “Not really. I'll need to ride up there in the morning. But it's a rocky trail. I shouldn't do it in this light.”

“I know something we can do in the dark.” She gave him a smile and laced her fingers around his neck. “And I bet it would take your mind off your troubles.”

Hiking herself up on her toes, she brought her lips to his.

For once, kissing Mack wasn't everything she hoped for. Sure, it was long. It was deep. It was passionate. But somehow, it was infused with sadness. She was pretty sure he was kissing her good-bye.

And she wasn't ready for that. Wasn't ready for it at all. She remembered Dora's words.

He
loves
you. He told me. It's simple.

It
was
simple. All her previous relationships had been tangled and complex, wrapped up in power struggles, half-truths, and doubts. But this one was simple.

She loved him. He loved her. All she had to do was make him see that no matter what happened, they belonged together.

Their lifestyles didn't. Their occupations didn't. But the two of them, as people, belonged to each other.

She deepened the kiss and tugged him closer, pressing her body to his. His body responded instantly, like always, but she could tell his mind was pulling away even as his arms held her close.

“Let it go,” she whispered. “Just for now. Let it go, and be here with me.”

“I don't have anything to offer you,” he said. “No ranch. No future.”

“How about your heart?”

He gave her a sad smile. “You already have that.”

“That's all I want.” She breathed deep, savoring the now-familiar scent of him. “That's all I need.”

***

Mack couldn't help admiring the view as Cat straightened her arms and let her head fall back, her hair trailing down her back. She pulled him off-balance in a slow sideways spin smiling into his eyes. When she dropped down on the overstuffed sofa he fell like a half-sawn tree, catching himself on one knee before he crushed her against the cushions.

Falling into Cat felt inevitable, like giving in to an irresistible force he'd been fighting far too long. He let himself relax, savoring the warmth of her body against his. She was soft where he was hard, giving where he held firm. She answered something inside him, filled his empty places. Together the two of them made something whole. How was he ever going to let her go?

Sprawled beneath him, she tilted her pretty face up and gave him a sweet come-hither smile. Her lids dropped sleepily over her eyes until he could just see a glimmer of blue through the dark fringe of her lashes. In the dim light, her skin looked pale as moonlight, her lips rich and red, and he couldn't help tasting them. They were soft and berry-sweet, warm as sunshine, pure as the blue sky. They tasted like home.

A stab of regret pierced his heart so sharply he drew in a quick, stunned breath. She was leaving in two days. He might never see her again.

“Let it go,” she murmured against his cheek. “Let it go and just be here
now
.”

He kissed her again, letting all his feelings for her flow through his lips into hers, from his hands to her body. He let go, like she'd said. Once he stopped resisting, love rushed in a torrent from his heart to hers, unstoppable. Letting loose the feelings that had ached inside him for so long made him feel light, warm, and free. Old wounds were closing, breaks mending, and his heart surged strong and steady with life and love.

She paused and pulled away, and their eyes met in a gaze that was totally unguarded, open, and unafraid. He was sure he'd never shared himself so completely with another person as he did in that moment.

When she kissed him again, the tide had changed and she was doing the giving. She filled him up, bringing every nerve and cell to life and making him whole in a way that would sustain him no matter what happened. He was about to tumble into a maelstrom of disaster, about to lose everything he had, but this moment was magic and nobody—nobody—could take it away.

He felt her move against him and his body answered instinctively, calling and responding over and over. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled him close with her heels pressing against the back pockets of his jeans.

She twisted and writhed beneath him and he responded without thinking, kissing and licking, caressing and stroking. Her shirt was gone, her bra swept away like all the other barriers, and still he couldn't get close enough. She'd unbuttoned his shirt at some point, and now he shrugged it off, fighting a brief battle with the fabric before tossing it to the floor. His jeans followed, then hers. There was a crash as he kicked something over, but instead of stopping to see if he'd broken something he kicked it again and returned to Cat, only Cat. She was all that mattered in his world right now. Maybe she was all that had ever mattered.

She was so soft, so warm, so open and ready for him. When he slid inside her it was like coming home, and he realized he
was
home. There would always be a fire burning for him here, a light shining in the dark. The ranch and everything else he'd built his life on might fade away or fail, but this love was forever.

Letting her warmth surround him and fill him, he let go of the world and all its complications and lost himself in the simple, instinctive ecstasy of love.

When he lifted his head Cat's eyes were closed, her lips parted in rapt bliss. She opened her eyes just a little and there was that look again, honest and pure and giving. She knew what he was feeling.

He knew she felt it too.

***

Cat felt her body softening and warming, an odd, heady relaxation taking over her limbs as a sweet, hot pleasure opened at the heart of her like a fern unfurling in sunlight. Looking up at Mack, she saw his eyes go dim and lose their focus, and then she lost herself in him and gave herself, body and soul, to the force that was pulling them together.

Love caught her like a warm wind and lifted her out of her life, out of the ordinary world. She floated, rising and spinning, swirling and soaring, until it set her down gently and she came blinking back to life.

Mack stroked the side of her face and kissed her again. This time there was an aching tenderness in his touch that almost broke her heart.

It was like the kiss they'd started with—he was saying good-bye. This man who felt like he'd lost everything was giving her everything she'd ever wanted—love, tenderness, passion. His heart.

It was more than she'd ever had from any man. And it was more than enough. She'd take it home, and she'd treasure it. And somehow, someday, they'd find a way to keep it.

Cat leaned against the side of the chuckwagon, sipping coffee from a thick porcelain cup and watching the sun rise on a blessedly normal day. Her niece was safe. Better yet, Dora seemed to have found her old self buried under the layers of her grief. And today, the group would get back on schedule. There were two days left in the workshop. Two days to redeem herself to her students.

She blew the steam from her cup and swore to herself she'd make these days count. She was still dizzy from the night before and felt like there'd been some kind of seismic shift in her heart, but she'd have to figure out her personal life later. Right now, she had a job to do.

So did Mack, fortunately. He'd ridden up at dawn to check the north pasture and discovered he had cattle to care for after all. He was still worried, but he'd decided to deal with Sullivan later in the day. Right now, he agreed they needed to do the best for the students. The horses were saddled and ready. They just had to get breakfast out of the way.

Emma traipsed out of the Heifer House in a pink velour robe. Ed followed in a blue bathrobe, with striped pajama pants poking out of the bottom. Cat had just started to pour them some coffee when she heard the thudding tattoo of hooves in the distance. Turning, she watched a dust cloud rise on the horizon as a rider approached.

She thought of all the old black-and-white Westerns she'd seen. A rider thundering up to a ranch always meant trouble—outlaws, maybe, or rustlers.

She squinted, watching the rider approach. The horse and rider were silhouetted against the rising sun, so she couldn't make out the specifics at first. But as the rider approached, she made out a slim figure with a pouf of golden hair that bounced with every stride.

Dora.

Cat frowned. Mack had encouraged Dora to go riding when classes weren't in session, but he'd told her not to go alone. And Cat was sure he wouldn't want his horses worked that hard. As the girl approached, she could see the animal's eyes rolling in panic, and its sides were slicked with sweat. He galloped nearly to the fire pit before Dora skidded him to a stop.

“Cattle.” Dora spun the horse and pointed north. “That way. Trucks.”

Cat couldn't help smiling. Dora tried to be cool about the excitement of ranch life, but clearly the sight of actual cattle had been too much for her.

“It's a ranch, hon,” she told her niece. “They've got cows.”

“But they're loading them up,” Dora said. “Stealing them.” The horse bobbed his head, clearly picking up on his rider's excitement. “Rustlers!”

“Are there injuns, too?” Ed asked, grinning. “Maybe a wagon train? Did John Wayne show up? Always wanted to meet the Duke.”

“I'm not kidding. I heard Mack saying there were cows up there, and I wanted to see. But there are trucks too, and men unloading horses. I think they're going to steal Mack's cows!”

Mack approached from the barn where he'd been saddling horses. He was already frowning, eyeing the exhausted horse. “Dora, were you out by yourself?”

“No, Viv was with me. She stayed up there. They're stealing your cows!” She struggled to catch her breath. “Up in the pasture. There are big trucks—tractor trailers. And horse trailers. Viv says they're getting ready for a roundup.”

“There a name on these trucks?”

“Sullivan Land and Cattle Company.”

“I should have known,” he muttered. “They figure they can get away with it while we're busy with the dudes.”

“Hah!” Dora spun her horse again, obviously reveling in her part in the drama. “They didn't figure it was the dudes that would catch 'em.”

Mack set off for the barn, his long legs making short work of the rugged path, then stopped and turned to Cat. “It won't be much of a delay. The horses are tacked up and ready. I should be back by the time breakfast's done.”

The students milled around, spooning scrambled eggs from tin plates and plowing through a plateful of bacon as Maddie churned out more and more food. Dora was trotting after Mack, determined to be a part of the upcoming drama.

“I'll be right back,” she called over her shoulder.

Abby paced by the fire, obviously agitated. “I can't believe this,” she muttered. “Really can't believe it.”

“I'm sorry,” Cat said. “I can't believe how many things have gone wrong.” She took a deep breath. “I'm sure the company will refund at least part of your fee.”

“It's not that.” Abby shoved her hands in her pockets and kicked at the dirt. “It's that dirtbag stealing Mack's cattle. We ought to do something.”

“I'm sure Mack can handle it.”

He'd handled everything else, including her. She wished there was some way she could help him, but the best bet seemed to be staying here, holding down the home fort.

She did her best to make small talk, keeping one eye on the trail to watch for his return. But the cloud of dust that finally appeared in the distance cleared to reveal a single rider. Dora, again approaching at top speed.

“Aunt Cat.” She pulled up the horse and let it dance in place. If possible, she was even more breathless and excited than she'd been earlier. “You have to come. Viv's hurt, and Mack's really, really pissed, and he went on up there, and they have, like, I don't know how many men up there. I'm scared he'll get in a fight. You have to come.”

“Viv's hurt?”

“She fell, I think. I don't know. She's resting now, but she was on the ground when we found her. I think something's broken. And Mack…”

Cat couldn't even imagine Mack's fury. Viv had probably just had a riding accident, but if he thought the Sullivans had caused it, there was no telling what he'd do.

“We need to go up there. I think he'll listen to you.”

Cat took off for the barn at a run.

***

Dora led Cat along a meandering trail that headed into the hills on the north end of the ranch. It was an uphill climb, but Rembrandt made it look easy. As hoofbeats approached from behind, Cat tugged him to a stop, but he danced like a racehorse at the starting line.

It was Ed, mounted on Bucky. He was hardly dressed in his usual Western wear. Cat did a quick double take.

“Your bathrobe doesn't go with your boots.”

“I know, dammit.” He looked down at his feet, where his striped pajama bottoms were a mass of wrinkled cotton tucked into his boot-tops. “But slippers aren't safe for riding.”

Cat did another double take when another horse and rider crested the hill, and then several more. Evidently the whole class had decided to go along for the ride.

“What are you guys doing up here? This could be dangerous.”

“I know,” Ed said. “You think I'd miss it?”

“There was no stopping him,” Emma said. She was right behind him. Their outfits matched.

Abby was next in line. “I told him me and Charles should come, but do you think he'd wait for us? Nope.” She shook her head. “Stubborn old man.”

“Hey, show some respect for your daddy.”

Cat scanned the line. Despite her annoyance, she could barely suppress a giggle. Evidently no one had taken time to change. Only Maddie, trailing the line on a white mare that matched her pale face, was dressed for riding.

“Maddie,” Cat said. “You don't need to deal with this.”

“It's my problem. I'll see it through.” She gestured toward the barn. “Hank's coming too. He just had to saddle up.”

At least they had one experienced rider coming. Cat started to tell the rest to turn around and head home, but their eager faces and bright eyes made her pause. They were having a good time. Maybe it wasn't what they'd signed on for, but she could hardly refuse to take them where they wanted to go—pajamas and all.

“Come on, Aunt Cat,” Dora called. She'd stopped her horse beside a rocky outcropping just below the crest of the hill. Viv sat on the rock, holding onto her horse's reins with one hand and clutching her knee with the other. Cat urged Rembrandt into the surprisingly speedy trot that seemed to be his fastest gait. She slid out of the saddle when they reached Viv.

“What happened, hon?”

“They ran me off.” The pain was obviously at war with a generous helping of anger. “We heard them first. They were shouting, and I heard the truck doors slamming. I knew something was going on, so I said we should go home, but Dora wouldn't listen. She rode up ahead. I couldn't stop her.”

As if to illustrate her impulsiveness, Dora clicked to her horse and kicked it into a gallop, cresting the hill before Cat could get out so much as a squeak.

Viv rocked slightly, still clutching her knee. It was obvious she was in pain. “One of the guys rode up and I told him to get off our land.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “He took his reins and whapped Booger in the face. Booger reared and I fell. I got back on and made it this far, but I can't ride, so I told Dora to go ahead.” She clutched her knee tighter. “It hurts so much.”

“Let me see.”

Viv pulled away. “It'll be all right. Just go get my dad. I'm afraid he'll do something dumb. You know how he is.”

Cat nodded, remembering Trevor's bloodied face.

“I told him I just fell, but he knows I ride better than that. He's so mad. If he confronts those guys…”

Cat remembered the Sullivans from the dance—big men, quiet, with hard eyes.

“It's just over that ridge,” Viv said. “The cattle are spread out in the valley, but they were unloading horses, and they had the trucks parked at the loading chute.”

Cat looked down at the injured girl as the rest of the class approached. “Somebody has to stay with her.”

“I'll be fine,” Viv said. “You need all the riders you can get. Just go. All of you.”