Trusting The Cowboy

“Thank you,” she murmured, thankful she had worn her heels to see Drake Neubauer.

Though she doubted they’d made an impression on the lawyer, as she glanced up at Vic she appreciated the advantage they gave her.

The grim set of Vic’s jaw and his snapping brown eyes below dark, slashing brows sent a shiver down her spine that told her he would be trouble.

Chapter Two (#u06280ab8-0cb3-5d43-b7bd-db2988c85b54)

Vic parked his truck beside Lauren’s car and gave himself a moment to catch his breath, center himself. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked out over the Rocking M. The house stood on a rise of land overlooking the corrals below. The corrals and pasture eased toward the Saddlebank River on one side and the rolling hills leading to the mountains on the other. So often he had driven this yard, imagining his brother living here

It was the promise he’d held out to Dean and himself that got him through the past ten months.

A way to assuage his own guilt over the fact that he had been too late to get Dean off that rank bronc at the rodeo. As a pickup man, it was Vic’s job to get the riders safely off the horse as soon as he saw they were in trouble.

But Vic had had other things on his mind that day. Other things that drew his attention.

It had only been a few seconds, the smallest moment when Vic made eye contact with Dean’s ex-girlfriend Tiffany sitting in the arena a few feet away. Smiling at her. Thinking about how they could be together again. She had told him that she’d broken up with Dean. She had called out to him just before Dean’s ride and blown him a kiss.

Then Vic had turned his head in time to catch the sight branded into his brain forever.

The bronc Dean was riding spinning away from where he and his horse were, ready. The horse making another turn, crushing Dean’s leg against the temporary panels set up in the arena. Dean’s leg getting caught in the crossbars as the horse pulled away.

Vic still heard his brother’s cries of agony, saw him writhing on the ground in the arena.

The girlfriend walked away from both of them a week later. Dean started walking four months later.

His brother still struggled with resentment and anger over what had happened.

And Vic wrestled with a guilt that gnawed at him each time he saw his brother grimace in pain. Each time he listened to Dean talk about how Tiffany had broken his heart.

Buying Keith McCauley’s ranch was supposed to fix all that.

And now?

Please, Lord, let that piece of paper be somewhere in the house. I need this place for Dean.

The prayer surged upward as he eased out of the truck, heading up the walk, the futility of it clawing at him. He and Jodie had discussed it only briefly, but she hadn’t found any evidence of this agreement.

Maybe she hadn’t searched hard enough, he thought as he trudged up the stairs to the house. Maybe his presence would coax it out of its hiding place.

Keith hadn’t left anything about the lease agreement at Drake’s and he hadn’t given anything to Vic, so the only other place it could be was here. In Keith’s office in the ranch house.

As he sent up another prayer, he knocked on the door.

He heard laughter from within, and he eased out a wry smile. His own house was a somber, sad place. His father’s death a few months ago had only added to the heavy atmosphere looming over the house since Dean came home from the hospital three months before that, disabled and bitter. There’d been no laughter in the Moore household for a long time.

No one came to the door, so he rang the doorbell. Cheerful chimes pealed through the house, then he heard footsteps coming.

He wasn’t surprised to see Jodie answer, her head tipped to one side, her dark hair caught back in a loose ponytail, her bangs skimming eyes so blue they looked unnatural.

They were a different blue than Lauren’s, which were more gray. Cooler.

He shook that thought off. Lauren was attractive, yes, but he had to keep a level head. Too much was at stake to be distracted by a good-looking woman.

“Hey, Vic. Lauren said you were coming,” Jodie said, stepping aside to let him in. “I thought you’d be here sooner.”

“I had to stop at the dealership to get some parts for my horse trailer.” Nestor, who owned the place, had been particularly chatty. Then John Argall stopped in and asked him how Dean was doing and if Vic was coming back to Bible study. Vic had felt bad at the disappointment John had displayed. The past month he had taken on extra work. Work Dean would have done.

He didn’t blame his brother. Dean wasn’t as sure as Vic was that Keith had made proper arrangements to protect their handshake agreement so he went back to work for Jan Peter, a local carpenter. Vic hadn’t signed anything, but Keith had assured him that he had written something up.

He just needed to find it. Then Dean could stop working for Jan and they could start ranching together.

“Come in,” Jodie was saying. “Lauren and I were catching up. She’s trying to talk me out of purple bridesmaid dresses.”

“You’re not looking for my opinion, I hope?”

“I thought you could weigh in. When Lauren has an idea, she’s immovable.”

That didn’t bode well for any negotiations, Vic thought.

“Can’t say I have a lot of expertise in that area. I’m only standing up for Finn, and he told me to wear clean blue jeans.”

“Listen, mister, when it comes to wedding attire, you check with me before you check with my future husband.” But she spoke in a cheerful tone, adding a wink.

He returned Jodie’s smile, wide and open and happy, a much different woman than the one who’d come to Saddlebank with a chip on her shoulder and a cocky attitude. Now, engaged to Vic’s good friend Finn Hicks, she looked relaxed. Happy.

Vic wondered what Jodie thought of the potential buyer of the ranch and if she liked the idea. He was thinking of asking her but quashed that thought as he toed off his boots. He had to figure this out on his own. Bringing Jodie in would only create complications.

He set his scuffed and cracked cowboy boots beside Lauren’s high heels, the contrast making him laugh.

“We’re sitting in the dining room. Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure. Sounds good.” He followed Jodie through the kitchen. His steps slowed as he passed Keith’s office, which was opposite the eating bar of the kitchen, and he glanced inside the open door.

Papers covered the desk that ran along one wall. The filing cabinet’s top drawer was open.

“We’ve been going through Dad’s stuff,” Jodie said, catching the direction of his gaze. “I meant to do it when I first came but thought I would wait till Lauren was here. She’s the organized one.”

He suppressed the question that nagged at him. He had time yet. Lauren might have a buyer all lined up, but she still had to stay at the ranch for two months before she could make a decision.

He followed Jodie to the end of the house. Vaulted ceilings soaring two stories high arched over the living and dining room. Light from the upper windows slanted down into the space. A fireplace made of river rock bisected the far wall, framed by large bay windows overlooking the pasture and the mountains.

To his left a set of stairs led to the loft and a couple of bedrooms above, and the basement with its bedrooms downstairs. He knew the layout of the house because he had spent time here before.

Though all those stairs might not be best for Dean at the moment, his leg would get better. Vic had to believe that. And when he did, it would be a perfect place for his brother to live. A real home.

“Sit down. Ignore the mess,” Jodie said as she padded barefoot to the kitchen. She wore blue jeans, frayed at the cuffs, and a gauzy purple and pink shirt that had tiny bells sewn to the hem. The bells created a happy tinkling sound as she took a mug out of the cupboard and poured him some coffee.

Lauren, in her stark dress and hair still pulled back in a bun, was a complete contrast to her sister. She glanced up from papers strewn over the table. Her dark-framed glasses gave her an austere air. She held his eyes for a moment, then looked away.