To Court A Cowgirl

“Hey, JD!” His uncle clapped him on the shoulder.

“Jim.” Jason clapped him back, then put up his hands in a defensive stance when his uncle threw a couple of fake jabs at him. “It’s been a while,” he said when his uncle finally quit punching.

“Sure has. Wish we could have seen you here at home more often, but I know how it is.”

“Want to come in for a beer?” Jason asked. He’d always liked his uncle, but he also saw him exactly for what he was. An opportunist. Jimmy had made a lot of money being an opportunist, on top of what he’d inherited, but according to Kate he had invested poorly and lately had seen diminishing returns. But he hadn’t yet stopped living the high life.

“A beer sounds great.”

Jason led the way into the house through the garage door, waved Jimmy to a seat in the great room and got a couple of beers out of the fridge and opened them.

“So how did Jaromek take your retirement?” Jimmy asked as he took his beer. “You guys were a team for a long time.”

“He understood and Littleton was ready to step in and take my place, so I think it’ll all work out. Plus they have O’Donnell.”

“He’s over that foot injury?”

“Should be a hundred percent by minicamp.”

They continued to talk football, segueing from the pros to the local team and Jason started to relax, wondering if this whole work-for-Jimmy plan was something his father had cooked up for reasons of his own...reasons Jason couldn’t begin to guess at. They debated the merits of veteran coaches entrenched in their ways versus new coaches with little experience but lots of ideas, then Jason offered his uncle another beer. Jimmy waved it off.

“Actually, I came by to talk to you about going to work at the dealership.”

Jason’s stomach lurched. “I—”

Jimmy held up a hand, stopping him. “I heard you had reservations because you have no experience in sales.”

“I have reservations because sales aren’t my thing.”

“Your thing.” His uncle blinked at him. “Is money your thing? Because looking at statistics, a lot of retired pro players are broke after a couple of years.”

Jason’s expression went stony. “I don’t plan on being one of those guys.”

“So what are you going to do?” There was a touch of belligerence in his uncle’s voice. “I can give you a damned good job and you wouldn’t have to work that hard.”

“Why is it so important that I work for you?” Jason asked, thinking he may as well hear the reason spoken out loud.

“Because we can help one another,” Jimmy said earnestly. “A symbiotic relationship. Your name, my expertise in sales.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t?”

“Won’t,” Jason said coldly.

“I need your help. How can you turn down family?”

“I can loan you money.”

Jimmy’s lip curled. “I don’t want a frigging loan.”

“That’s all I can offer.”

“You won’t help me?”

Jason gave his head a slow shake. “Not in the way you want.”

“Look. Kid. Your career was already on the skids when you quit. If you think you’re going to get any major endorsements or anything, you’re wrong.”

“I don’t.”

“So, what? You’re going to live here with your father?” He sneered a little as he spoke.

“Until he feels better.” Jason got up out of his chair, towering over his uncle. “And I don’t want him to get upset.” He gestured toward the door with his head. “Finding the two of us here, going at it, won’t be good for his heart.”

“Neither will your being a selfish prick.”

The sound of the garage door going up caught both their attentions. Jimmy sent Jason a look he couldn’t read, then a moment later, Max came into the house.

“So did you talk?” his father asked.

And that was when Jason knew he’d been set up. “We talked. The answer is no.”

“It’s no, no, a thousand times no,” Jimmy said sarcastically. “He can crawl to me and I wouldn’t hire him now.”

Max looked from his son to his brother and back at his son again. “Maybe if the three of us sit down—”

“That’s it,” Jason said. “Is Kate here?”

“Feeding the dogs.”

“Cool. Dad, I’ll see you later. Jim...” His mouth tightened and then he walked through the garage door to where his sister was feeding the Dobermans. She took one look at him and shook her head grimly.

“Get out of here for a while,” she said. “I’ll call if anything happens.”

He started to say no, then thought better of it. “Thanks.”

* * *

THREE DAYS HAD passed since posting her advertisements in all the usual places, and Allie hadn’t received one phone call. If she had to hire a salvage company instead of a local guy, it was going to cost more than she was ready to pay, but short of tearing down the barn herself, she didn’t know what her other options might be. She’d give it another week, then call Dani and Jolie and explain that they were going to have to dip into the ranch fund to get rid of the thing.

Allie finished her coffee and headed outside to check the pregnant cows. They’d had only five cows when she and Kyle had left the ranch, down from almost a hundred. It seemed as if every few months they’d had to sell off animals to make ends meet or to fund one of Kyle’s harebrained projects that she’d been so supportive of...until she finally figured out that her husband was all show and no go. Her sisters had started building the herd again and they were now up to twenty registered Angus cows—eighteen of which were pregnant. If she had a one-hundred-percent calving rate, then they would have even more of a hedge against disaster. She felt bad that she was the reason the ranch had been in such poor shape to begin with...which was why she really hated making that call.

After checking the cows, she turned the goats loose to eat weeds, then started back to the house, only to stop when she spotted the cloud of dust coming down the driveway.

And a second later she recognized the fancy pickup making the cloud.

Jason Hudson.