Her Cowboy Dilemma
Her Cowboy Dilemma
C.J. Carmichael
Going Home Shouldn't Be This Hard…Cassidy Lambert traded in Montana's big sky country for the big city lights—forever. Until a potentially devastating equine illness threatens her family's ranch, and Cassidy is needed at home to help. She thinks she knows what she wants from life, but the more she's around sexy veterinarian Dan Farley, the more confused she gets.When Cassidy comes back to the open western landscape Dan loves, she's nothing but a beautiful burr under his saddle. She stomped on his heart once before, and he's not eager for another go-around. But he just can't keep himself away from those green eyes and sweet curves. It's a good thing she'll soon be gone again. Because he can't trust her–or himself–when she's around!
Going Home Shouldn’t Be This Hard…
Cassidy Lambert traded in Montana’s big sky country for the big-city lights—forever. Until a potentially devastating equine illness threatens her family’s ranch, and Cassidy is needed at home to help. She thinks she knows what she wants from life, but the more she’s around sexy veterinarian Dan Farley, the more confused she gets.
When Cassidy comes back to the open Western landscape Dan loves, she’s nothing but a beautiful burr under his saddle. She stomped on his heart once before, and he’s not eager for another go-around. But he just can’t keep himself away from those green eyes and sweet curves. It’s a good thing she’ll soon be gone again. Because he can’t trust her—or himself—when she’s around!
The one person Cassidy didn’t expect to see in the barn examining the newest sick horse was Farley.
“So how is Chickweed doing?” She patted the horse as she walked around him, doing a quick visual exam. “Is he running a fever?”
“Afraid so. And he’s definitely suffering some pain—see how swollen he is under his jaw?” Farley placed her hand over the enlarged lymph nodes, and she nodded.
Not only did she feel the evidence of strangles in the horse, but she also felt the rough calluses of Farley’s hand. And the strength. And the warmth.
She remembered what his hands had felt like on her waist and on her shoulder, when they’d danced together four years ago. She’d never forgotten and never would.
Did he ever think about the good part of that night?
Or just her inexcusable behavior afterward?
She glanced at his face, and saw that he was looking at her, his dark gaze intense as always, but inscrutable.
He blinked.
The moment between them—if indeed it had been a moment—was over.
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Coffee Creek, Montana, where the Lamberts—a family of ranchers and cowboys—own the largest spread in Bitterroot County, all controlled by matriarch Olive Lambert. This time Cassidy Lambert takes center stage. With her business degree finally completed, Cassidy plans to get a job in the city and finally win complete independence from her domineering family. But when one of the family horses comes down with an infectious case of strangles and vet Dan Farley puts the ranch in quarantine, Cassidy steps in to help.
The good-looking local vet is considered by many to be the county’s most eligible bachelor. Too bad Cassidy burned her bridges with him four years ago. It’ll make working together all the more uncomfortable. What happens next seems to be part of Cassidy’s mother’s controlling plans. Or is it? Please read on, and decide for yourself.
One of the pleasures of writing a family saga is creating the setting for the stories. In this case I took a real town name—Coffee Creek, Montana—nudged it a little in a southwesterly direction, made it the head of fictional Bitterroot County and decked it out with interesting establishments like the Cinnamon Stick Café and the Lonesome Spur Saloon. There’s a two-story brick courthouse in the center of town, next to the post office and library. If you’d like to see the pictures that inspired the setting and stories, please visit my storyboards on www.pinterest.com under CJ_Carmichael.
There are more stories coming, so please keep an eye out for A Promise from a Cowboy this August, with Cowboy Christmas following in October. And do visit my website, where I hold regular contests and chat about my writing process and new stories in the works.
Happy reading!
C.J. Carmichael
www.cjcarmichael.com (http://www.cjcarmichael.com)
Her Cowboy Dilemma
C.J. Carmichael
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hard to imagine a more glamorous life than being an accountant, isn’t it? Still, C.J. Carmichael gave up the thrills of income tax forms and double-entry bookkeeping when she sold her first book in 1998. She has now written more than twenty-eight novels for Harlequin Books, and invites you to learn more about her books, see photos of her hiking exploits and enter her surprise contests at www.cjcarmichael.com (http://www.cjcarmichael.com).
This is for my Aunt Eleanor Schatz, who only this summer reminded me that she was the one who introduced me to Harlequin romances. Thanks for sharing your books—here’s one for you!
Contents
Prologue (#u7225de14-037d-5544-9a73-6deef95d8a8d)
Chapter One (#u4f049b72-552e-54e5-a4fd-43a462c32bff)
Chapter Two (#uff5b4301-19dd-50e3-890d-3a522ce2f6db)
Chapter Three (#u8fd98d82-a737-5f43-b7d7-d126742353e0)
Chapter Four (#ue658977a-dca4-5a7e-be22-a96871616926)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
It was strange to think of Brock getting married today. He was the youngest of her brothers and, Cassidy Lambert would have asserted, the least serious and least responsible of the bunch.
Yet falling in love with Winnie Hayes had changed him—in good ways. And at twenty-eight, he certainly wasn’t too young for marriage. Not that his brothers had set good examples on that score.
B.J. at thirty-four and Corb, thirty-two, were both still single. Could it be they’d talked Brock out of taking the plunge?
Or maybe he’d come up with cold feet all on his own.
How else to explain the fact that Brock, who was supposed to be the groom, and Corb, who was supposed to be the best man, and their driver, friend and foster brother, Jackson Stone, were fifteen minutes late for the ceremony?
Everything else was in place. Guests filled the pews of Coffee Creek’s pretty white church. The organist was doing her best to drive them crazy with important-sounding music. And the bride and bridesmaids—Cassidy included—were waiting in the antechamber for their big moment.
“What time did Corb say they left?” Winnie asked. She was perched on the ledge of the windowsill with Cassidy, both of them peering out on a warm, sunny July afternoon.
With her dark hair, creamy skin and lovely figure, Winnie made a perfectly gorgeous bride. She was also fun, a good cook and strong enough to set Brock straight when he needed a firm hand.
Cassidy approved.
She also liked Winnie’s friend from New York City, Laurel Sheridan, who was checking her watch for the umpteenth time.
“Thirty-five minutes ago,” Laurel replied.
“What’s happened?” Winnie stared out the window as if she could will the Coffee Creek Ranch’s black SUV to suddenly appear.
“Don’t worry,” Laurel said. “Could be they ran out of gas or had a flat.”
“Or maybe they got halfway here only to realize that Corb forgot the ring.” Cassidy made the joke halfheartedly. She was actually starting to worry—something both Corb and Brock would tease her about if she admitted it later.
She swung her new cream-colored cowboy boots, admiring how they went with the sage-green dress that Winnie had picked out for her and Laurel. She and Laurel were dressed like twins, except Laurel was wearing pretty, high-heeled pumps with her dress.
Cassidy didn’t do pumps. Cowboy boots and running shoes were more her style.
“But if they’ve been held up,” Winnie said, “why haven’t they called?”
Laurel held out her hands to Winnie. “You’re making me dizzy up there.” Winnie jumped, and then Cassidy followed.
“I’ll call them,” she said, unable to stand the waiting anymore. “I’ll go get my phone.”
She slipped out of the antechamber, intending to head for the minister’s office at the other end of the hall. All three of them had left their purses—including their phones—in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet.
But a late-arriving guest caught her eye. Dan Farley, the local vet, was as darkly handsome as ever, and the distraction of seeing him unexpectedly like this made her momentarily clumsy. As she tripped over her own feet, Dan gave her a quick, dismissive glance.
Not quick enough, however, for her to miss the disapproval in his expressive dark eyes.
Or was it dislike?
Probably both, Cassidy decided, as she continued down the hall, trying not to think about the broad-shouldered vet or the beautiful woman who’d been standing by his side.
Who was that woman? Her brothers hadn’t mentioned anything about Farley having a new girlfriend. She entered the minister’s office, went to the filing cabinet at the back and pulled open the drawer.
Then again, why would they tell her? No one had any reason to assume she’d be interested in Dan Farley’s love life.
Nor was she. Not particularly.
She grabbed her phone and called up Brock’s number. As she waited for him to answer, she made her way back to the antechamber. As she slipped inside the door, she heard Winnie whispering something to Laurel, but she stopped talking as soon as she saw Cassidy.
“Brock isn’t answering.” Cassidy ended the call, frustrated. “I’ll try Corb.”
No answer there, either. “Damn.”
Finally, she called Jackson. Again, nothing. “If this is some sort of prank, I’m going to kill them.”
Actually, if she saw them right now, she’d be more inclined to give them all hugs. She was really worried and—
“Someone’s coming!” Winnie was back at the window. “I think it’s Jackson’s SUV.”
Cassidy hurried to Winnie’s side. Please let her be right! But one glance dashed all her hopes. “No. It’s the county sheriff’s vehicle.”
She looked at Laurel, then Winnie, seeing in their eyes the same fear that was making minced meat of her stomach. They watched in suspended dread as the local sheriff made her way out of her vehicle toward the church.
“Who is that?” Laurel asked.
“Sheriff Savannah Moody,” Winnie answered. “She’s a good friend of Brock’s. We were going to invite her to the wedding, but he said there was bad blood between her and B.J. I don’t know the details.”
Neither did Cassidy. One of the drawbacks of being the youngest in the family was that no one told her anything. Still, she knew the trouble went back a long time, to the last year B.J. had lived at home.
Cassidy rushed out of the antechamber in time to see Savannah make her grand entrance. The crowd—expecting to see a bride—was quelled at the unexpected sight of the sheriff.
Aware of Winnie and Laurel coming up behind her, Cassidy made room for all three of them to follow in Savannah’s wake.
“I need to talk to someone from the Lambert family.” Savannah’s official-sounding voice lifted and carried through the silent church.
B.J. stood first. “Savannah. What happened?”
Olive Lambert rose next, clutching her son’s arm. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m s-sorry, Olive. There’s been an accident. Jackson’s SUV hit a moose on Big Valley Road, about five miles from town.”
A collective gasp by the congregation was followed by a few seconds of stunned silence.
Cassidy flashed back to the days when her father had been teaching her to drive. “Always drive slower at dusk. That’s when your chances of hitting wildlife are the greatest. And pray that you never hit a moose, Cassie. They’re lethal.”
“Brock?” Winnie whispered.
Savannah rotated slowly, not having realized the bridal party was standing at her rear. “I’m so sorry, Winnie. Brock was in the front passenger seat—the impact point with the moose. He didn’t have a chance.”
Cassidy felt as if she’d been kicked in the solar plexus. She was doubling over, just as she heard B.J. ask, “What about Corb? And Jackson?”
“Jackson was driving, wearing his seat belt, and the air bag was able to cushion him from the worst of it. He’s badly bruised and shaken, but he’s okay. Your other brother was in the backseat. He should have been fine, but I’m afraid he wasn’t wearing his seat belt. As we speak he’s being medevaced to Great Falls. I can’t say how bad his injuries are. You’ll have to talk to the doctors for that.”
“Is he conscious?” Desperately Cassidy prayed for Savannah to say yes.
But the sheriff shook her head. “No.”
Brock, dead. And maybe Corb, too? No, no, no, no...
Cassidy wanted to run screaming from the church. But Laurel tugged on her arm, gesturing to Winnie. The bride was tottering on her heels, shaking violently. Cassidy reached out for her and, between them, she and Laurel managed to keep her from crashing to the floor.
“We need a sweater or a warm jacket,” Laurel called out to the crowd.
A second later, a man’s suit jacket was settled over Winnie’s shoulders, and a white cotton handkerchief was pressed into Cassidy’s palm.
She glanced up to see Dan Farley ordering the crowd to step back and give Winnie some space as he swooped the bride into his arms and carried her out into the fresh air.
Cassidy stood back to let them pass, her hand fisted over the handkerchief. Farley must have given this to her. Only then did she realize that tears were cascading down her face.
Chapter One
Ten months later
What did it say about her relationship with her family that the person Cassidy Lambert was most excited to see when she got home wasn’t a person at all, but her border collie, Sky?
Sky had been her father’s birthday surprise for her fourteen years ago. Sky was loyal, loving and, most important, uncomplicated. Cassidy knew, no matter what, that Sky would always love her and think she was the most wonderful person on the planet.
The same could not be said of her family.
Cassidy lowered the driver’s side window of her vintage 1980 Ford pickup to let in the warm spring air, then cranked up the tunes as she barreled along the 80 toward home. She knew she should reduce her speed, not only to avoid a ticket but also to prolong the drive, which she was quite enjoying.
But she was on a high. After five long years she was finally done with late nights at the library, relentless assignments and tough exams. She’d worked hard to complete the Accounting Master’s Program at Montana State University, but she’d done it, and hopefully soon would follow a high-paying job at one of the top accounting firms in Billings.
Josh Brown—her friend and would-be boyfriend if she could make up her mind about that—also had plans to move to Billings. Josh had wanted to come with her to Coffee Creek Ranch. He said it was time he met her family.
“I wouldn’t be so anxious if I were you,” she’d told him. He thought she was teasing, but she wasn’t.
“They can’t be that bad. Look at you. Unless you were adopted?”
“No such luck.” She had her mother’s delicate features and the long, lanky body that came from the Lambert side of the family. She had a soft heart—like her father. But was also headstrong and stubborn—like her mom.
Yet despite all the family resemblances, she’d always been a misfit. Part of the problem came from being the only girl in a family with three boys—four if you counted her foster brother, Jackson, who’d been with the family since she was nine. She knew it wasn’t her imagination that her mother was harder on her than the guys. And her father had treated her differently, too, when he was alive.
For one thing, he’d built three cottages by the small lake on their property for each of his sons to live in. But nothing for her.
No doubt he’d expected her to one day get married and go live with her husband. But being excluded that way had hurt.
And it still did.
The boys had been relentless teases, too. They didn’t mean to be cruel, but they never cut her a break, either. Even though she could ride as well as any of them, she couldn’t match them in strength. And, oh, how they’d loved to taunt her about that. Especially Brock...
Tears fogged her vision, and she slid her sunglasses up on her head so she could rub them away. Though almost a year had passed since the accident that had taken her youngest brother’s life—just an hour before he’d been about to marry Winnie Hayes—the loss still felt fresh.
Brock may have driven her crazy, but she’d loved him, living in hope that one day he’d stop treating her like a bratty little sister and they might become friends.
Now they would never have that chance.
Cassidy drove over a series of three gentle hills before arriving at the smattering of buildings and the weathered sign proclaiming that she’d arrived at the town of Coffee Creek. She put on her indicator light, intending to stop at the Cinnamon Stick Café for some fortification before continuing the last fifteen minutes to the ranch.
It was Wednesday morning, the last week of April, an hour before noon. She’d written her final exam the previous afternoon, had spent a night on the town with all her friends, including Josh, then loaded her car for an early departure that hadn’t included breakfast.
So she was hungry.
She angle-parked in front of the pretty café that was owned by Brock’s former fiancée. Winnie had taken Brock’s death really hard and had gone to live at her parents’ farm in Highwood immediately following the funeral. Cassidy stayed in touch with her via Facebook and knew that Winnie hoped to return to Coffee Creek eventually. Apparently she’d developed some health issues that weren’t serious, but required some time to settle.
In the meantime her café was being operated by Winnie’s best friend—and Cassidy’s new sister-in-law—Laurel. Laurel Sheridan had flown in from New York for Brock and Winnie’s wedding and had ended up extending her stay to take care of Winnie’s café while her friend was convalescing. She’d also fallen in love with Corb and the two had been married last September in New York City.
Then in March they’d had a baby—adorable little Stephanie Olive Lambert was another reason Cassidy was stopping at the Cinnamon Stick. Hopefully Laurel and the baby would be there.
She was dying for a cuddle with her new little niece.
Cassidy parked, hopped out of her truck, then paused to stretch her back and her arms. One thing about older trucks—they sure weren’t built for comfort. Still, she patted the hood affectionately before heading toward the café.
A hand-painted sign hung over the door, and two wooden benches promised a place to sit in the sun and enjoy your coffee once you’d placed your order.
Inside she was welcomed by the scent of freshly ground coffee beans and the luscious aromas of butter, sugar and cinnamon. She’d come during a lull and the place was quiet. Two older women sat at one of the two booths, engrossed in conversation. Behind the counter, Laurel was softly singing a silly song about hedgehogs. She had her back to the door, busy with dishes, but she spotted Cassidy’s reflection in a carefully positioned mirror and broke into a big smile.
“Cassidy! You’re home!” Laurel stopped to scoop up her two-month-old daughter from the playpen. “Look who’s here, Steph. It’s your auntie Cassidy.”
Cassidy was already holding out her arms for the bundle. “I hope she isn’t making shy yet.”
“Oh, she’s still too young for that. Besides, she’s getting used to new faces. We just got back to work last week and I swear our business has tripled. It seems everyone in the area is finding an excuse to drop in for a coffee and to say hello to the newest Lambert.”
Cassidy listened to all of this with a smile, at the same time noticing how happy her sister-in-law appeared. Pretty, too. Her long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but it seemed thicker and glossier than ever. And her fair skin was literally glowing.
Laurel deposited a kiss on Cassidy’s cheek as she handed over her daughter, who had gained several pounds since Cassidy had seen her last.
“Oh, you’re so cute! Look—she has Corb’s dimple.”
“I know. Isn’t it adorable? And only on the left cheek, just like her dad.”
Cassidy sighed as Stephanie cuddled in, soaking up the smooches that her aunt couldn’t resist planting on her downy soft head. Her wispy hair was coming in orange. And curly.
“How are you doing, precious? Do you like working with your mommy in the café?”
The baby looked up at the sound of Cassidy’s voice, and Cassidy was amused to see that she had the Lambert green eyes, as well. Stephanie was staring at her intently, and only when she raised her little hand, awkwardly reaching up, did Cassidy realize she was entranced by the sunglasses that were still resting on her head.
“She’s just started noticing her hands a few weeks ago,” Laurel commented. “Sometimes she stares at them for minutes at a time. It’s so cute. But here I am, talking endlessly about my wonderful baby, again.” Laurel rolled her eyes. “What’s new with you? How were your final exams?”
“They went well, I think. I won’t have my marks for a few weeks.”
“Can I get you a coffee and a cinnamon bun for the road?”
Hearing the door open behind her, Cassidy moved out of the way so the newcomer could enter. “You read my mind, thanks.”
“Make that a double order, Winnie,” said a deep voice behind her. “And leave some space for cream in the coffee.”
Cassidy knew that voice. Slowly she turned, holding Stephanie like a shield between her and the tall, broad-shouldered man who’d just entered the café.
Sure enough, there stood Dan Farley. The local vet had some Native American blood, which accounted for his high cheekbones, jet-black hair and dark, almond-shaped eyes. Though he’d spoken to Winnie, it was Cassidy he was looking at, with cool dislike.
“Hey, Farley.” Darn her voice for coming out so soft and weak. She lifted her chin. “How are things?”
“Busy.”
He knew she’d been going to college in Bozeman, and must have noticed the suitcases and boxes in the back of her truck, but he didn’t ask about her studies or show any interest in whether or not she was moving back to Coffee Creek. Stepping past her as if she were nothing more than an inanimate obstacle, he made his way to the counter, where he pulled out his wallet.
Heck and darn, but the man had a way about him. Cassidy glanced at the two women at the back to see if they felt it, too. Sure enough they both had their eyes on Coffee Creek’s sexy vet. One of them pretended to fan her face with her hand. The other laughed and winked at Cassidy.
Cassidy didn’t wink back.
He wasn’t that good-looking.
She gave him another glance, seeing only his profile and long, muscular build.
Okay, maybe he was that good-looking.
Still, he probably hated her and she had only herself to blame.
Winnie set two coffees in to-go cups on the counter, then bagged them each one of the homemade cinnamon buns baked fresh every day by ex-bronc rider Vince Butterfield. A veteran of the rodeo circuit and a member of the Cowboy Hall of Fame, Vince had licked a lifelong dependence on alcohol and in his sixties had begun a new career as a baker. His mother’s old recipe for melt-in-your-mouth sticky buns, thickly topped with frosting, was his new claim to fame.
Five minutes ago, Cassidy had been craving one of them desperately. Now her stomach churned at the thought. What were the chances that she and Farley would happen into the café at the same time? Pretty darn slim. So slim, in fact, that she hadn’t run across him here once in the past four years.
Other than at the church last July, she hadn’t seen him anywhere else, either.
If he was called out to the ranch when she happened to be home, she always made herself scarce. She’d avoided him at the funeral. If his name came up in conversation with her brothers, she tried not to listen.
And now here he stood, just a few feet away. Making it very hard not to remember... But no. She would not think back to that night. She couldn’t bear it.
“So where are you off to now, Farley?” Laurel asked, her tone friendly. Everyone in the Coffee Creek area called the vet by his last name. Probably to avoid confusion with his father, also named Dan, whom he’d worked with before the elder Farley and his wife had retired to Arizona.
Farley glanced briefly at Cassidy again, before answering. “Coffee Creek Ranch.”
Though there were plenty of reasons why the vet might have been called out to her family’s ranch, Cassidy’s first thought was for Sky. At fourteen years of age, every day was a blessing. “What’s wrong?”
“Your mother’s young palomino is sick. Sounds serious.”
“Lucky Lucy? Oh, no.” She was glad Sky was okay, but this news was almost as bad. Her mother had bought the beautiful three-year-old palomino just this year and Cassidy loved her. Lucy had a wild heart but a gentle soul. Though she was her mother’s horse, Cassidy had felt a special connection with the mare from the first time she’d ridden her.
“Any idea what the problem is?”
“From the symptoms Jackson described, sounds like strangles.”
“Really?” In all of her twenty-five years they’d never had a case of strangles on the ranch. She didn’t even know that much about it, other than it was a highly contagious, serious infection of the nose and lymph nodes.
“I’ll have to examine the horse and run some tests to be sure.” He added a generous amount of cream to his coffee, fitted the cup with a lid, then grabbed one of the bagged cinnamon buns. “See you later, Laurel. And thanks.”
No word to Cassidy, whose ranch he was heading for. She might as well be an empty bar stool for all the attention he’d paid to her. Wordless herself, she watched as a half-dozen long strides took him out the door.
The café fell silent then, and Cassidy realized that Laurel was looking at her, eyebrows raised.
“What’s up with you and the vet?”
Cassidy shifted Stephanie to her other arm. She’d planned on staying for a while to visit, but the bad news about the ranch had her suddenly anxious to get moving again.
“Why do you ask?”
“Are you kidding? Sparks were flying here, and they weren’t the good kind. Farley isn’t the chattiest of people, but I’ve never seen him be downright rude before. And the way he all but ignored you? That was rude.”
Yes. It sure had been.
“I guess he figures he has his reasons.” Cassidy went around the counter to deliver Stephanie back to her playpen. She didn’t seem very happy about being set down until her mother wound up a musical mobile that had been affixed to the side of the playpen.
“How do you get any work done with such a cute distraction around?” Cassidy bent to give her niece one last kiss.
“It’s taken some adjusting, by me and the staff. Eugenia and Dawn have been great. And even Vince has taken a few turns at rocking Stephanie when she’s being fussy.”
“That I’d like to see.” Vince was the epitome of the tough, silent cowboy from another era.
“I know. Isn’t it amazing what babies bring out in a person?”
“It sure is.” Though Farley hadn’t seemed moved by the baby at all. Of course, if she hadn’t happened to be there, he probably would have been much friendlier to Laurel and her daughter. “Is there anything I can do to help you before I leave?”
“We’re fine,” Laurel assured her. “Eugenia’s shift is starting in about half an hour. That’ll give me a chance to take Stephanie upstairs, feed her and put her down for her nap. She’s a great sleeper, thank goodness. Gives me a couple free hours every afternoon.”
“Sounds like a good system.” Cassidy counted out money for her order, then picked up her drink and her pastry. Now that Farley was gone, her appetite was returning. “I’d better get going.”
“Wait one minute. You’re really not going to give me the scoop on you and Farley?”
“Nope.” Cassidy gave Laurel a warm hug. “I’ll be back to have a longer visit in a few days. Or I may drop in on you and Corb at the ranch one evening.”
“I’ll look forward to it. But be warned. Next time I see you, you better be ready to tell me what’s going on with you and the vet. He’s considered the most eligible bachelor in town, you know.”
Cassidy wasn’t surprised. The guy had presence. And those eyes...
“The single women of Coffee Creek needn’t worry,” she assured Laurel. “I’m not going to be any competition where Dan Farley is concerned.”
She was out the door before Laurel had time for a comeback. Not that it mattered. She was so not going to tell Laurel about the history between her and Farley. She’d never told anyone and she’d bet Farley hadn’t, either.
Chapter Two
Dan Farley settled his coffee cup into the holder of his truck, then wolfed down the cinnamon bun in two minutes flat. Sweet and spicy...just like Cassidy Lambert.
The little witch.
So she was back in town. Judging from all the baggage in her truck, she was done with school. Would she be staying in Coffee Creek? Or moving on? Corb had mentioned she was studying accounting and thinking of working in Billings, but that her mother had other plans.
He didn’t really care how it panned out. The little minx was trouble. And he intended to keep his distance.
For the longest time she’d been nothing but the cute younger sister of his best friends B.J., Corb and Brock. With no siblings of his own, he hadn’t really minded when she tried to tag along with them—but Brock was always looking for ways to get rid of her.
He said she talked too much. Which was true.
He complained that she tried to boss them around. Also true.
But she had redeeming characteristics, among them a soft, yet courageous heart. So many times she’d come to him and her brothers expecting them to help a baby chick that had fallen from its nest, a fawn struggling with a lame leg, a farm cat with distemper, eyes weeping from disease, matted fur over a scrawny body.
Brock and Corb would brush her off, but he’d always done what he could to save the animal.
And then Cassidy turned twenty-one and the person who needed saving was himself....
An incoming call prevented him from dredging up further unwanted memories. He pressed the button on his steering wheel to patch it through.
“Hello?”
“Farley?” It was Liz Moffat, his right-hand woman at the office. Besides being his receptionist, the thirty-three-year-old mother of four also did a pretty good job of running his private life, as well. “I just had a call from Maddie Turner.”
“I’m on my way to Coffee Creek Ranch right now.” The Lamberts’ place was only fifteen miles from Silver Creek Ranch. Maddie Turner and Olive Lambert were sisters, though they hadn’t spoken to one another in over thirty years.
“When you’re finished there, could you swing by Maddie’s place? One of her cows is having a difficult birth.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Oh, and Amber wants to know about tonight. If you think you’ll be able to make it in time for a movie.”
He wanted to say yes, but knew better. “Tell her probably not. I still have to check out the Harringtons’ lame cow.”
“Maybe things will go well at Maddie’s and you’ll be able to do both.” Liz had fixed him up with Amber and was lobbying hard for the relationship to work.
“Maybe.” But he doubted it. Maddie Turner didn’t have the head for business that her older sister did, and she’d been struggling financially for the past five years. She wouldn’t be asking for his help if the situation with her cow and unborn calf wasn’t dire.
But first he had the situation at the Lamberts’ to deal with. And maybe another chance to see Cassidy?
No. If she knew he was there, she’d avoid the barns, the way she usually did.
* * *
C ASSIDY WAS DRIVING about ten miles over the posted speed limit on the secondary road out of Coffee Creek. Plus, she was taking sips of her coffee. And nibbling on her cinnamon bun. So she couldn’t claim to be the injured party when she saw the flashing lights of a patrol car behind her five minutes after leaving town.
She pulled to the side of the road, turned off her music and waited.
Sun beat in warmly through the windshield and she could hear a meadowlark’s song drifting on the fragrant spring breeze that wafted through her open windows. Ahead of her the pavement curved and she tensed as she saw the flower wreath affixed to the simple white cross that marked the spot of the accident where Brock had died last July.
She’d been so busy thinking about Farley—and feeling unjustly hurt at his obvious disdain for her—that she’d almost passed right by the scene of Brock’s accident without noticing.
In her rearview mirror, she saw an officer step out of the patrol car. Her nervousness increased when she recognized Savannah Moody.
The last time she’d seen Savannah had been at Brock’s funeral. Savannah hadn’t stayed long, but she’d paid her respects. Now Cassidy took a deep breath as the sheriff stooped so she could look in the open window.
“Hey, Cassidy. On your way home from Bozie?” Savannah wore her long hair in a braid when she was on duty, but even without her thick chestnut hair framing her face, she was stunning. She’d been blessed with large, thickly lashed eyes and smooth olive skin that she’d inherited from her French Canadian mother.
“Yes. Just finished my exams yesterday.”
“I’m sure you’re anxious to get home, but slow down, okay? I’m not giving you a ticket this time. Just a friendly warning.”
Her gaze shifted up the road a bit, and Cassidy knew what she was thinking. Knew, too, that the warning shouldn’t have been necessary.
“You’re right. I’ll be a lot more careful in the future.” She studied the wreath again, noting that the flowers appeared fresh. “Is Maddie Turner still tending that?”
Maddie was her mother’s estranged sister. No one in the family knew the whole story behind the family feud, but they’d all grown up understanding that their mother would consider it a grand betrayal if they acknowledged their aunt by so much as a smile or a word of hello.
By the same token, none of them had understood why Maddie was being so diligent in tending Brock’s memorial tribute, until Corb took it upon himself to drive up to Silver Creek Ranch and ask her.
Apparently Brock had been in the habit of visiting their aunt every now and then and had even helped her out with some handyman work on occasion.
No one knew why he’d done this. But if any one of the Lambert kids was wont to break their parents’ rules, Brock was definitely the one.
“I guess so.” Savannah patted the side of her truck. “I’m not a fan of roadside memorials, myself. Anything that draws your eyes off the road is a potential hazard.”
“I’ll be careful,” Cassidy promised again.
“Good. Say hi to your mom for me, Cassidy. And welcome home.”
She was gone before Cassidy could tell her that this wasn’t a true homecoming. She was just going to stay a few weeks until she found out about the job she’d applied for in Billings. Her first interview had gone well. Now she was hoping for a second, soon to be followed by an offer of employment.
Josh had applied to the same accounting firm, and he felt they both stood a good chance of being hired since their marks leading up to finals had been the top of their class. Competition was tight, though, since the accounting firm was only looking for three new articling students, and at least five other members of their graduating class had applied, including the woman who’d been president of the business club.
Cassidy checked for traffic—and signs of wildlife—before pulling back onto the road. Savannah was long gone, having made a U-turn and driven off in the opposite direction. Meanwhile, Cassidy continued toward home, driving a sedate five miles per hour under the limit until she came to the fork in the road where she slowed down even further.
To the right lay Silver Creek Ranch, where Maddie still lived on the Turners’ homestead property.
The road to the left led to Coffee Creek Ranch, which had been in the Lambert family just as long as the Turners had owned theirs. Cassidy’s father had passed away years ago, and ever since then her mother, Olive, had been running the ranch—with the help of her youngest sons and Jackson. Her mother had a good head for business, and despite some ups and downs in the cattle business, she’d done very well.
One of her strategies to combat the uncertain economic times had been to diversify into breeding American quarter horses. Now the horse breeding side of their business was bringing in as much revenue as the cattle. And even more profit, according to Jackson, who was in charge of the books.
Now that she had her business degree, Cassidy suspected her mother was going to pressure her to take over the administrative side of the ranch from Jackson. She’d made it clear that she hoped Cassidy would move back home after graduation and join in the family ranching business.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Cassidy loved her mother, but it was the sort of love that did best when there were at least a hundred miles between them. And much as she loved the ranch, she thought a business career could be exciting, too. She could hardly wait to get started.
Cassidy’s tires rumbled as she drove over the cattle guard that was meant to keep Coffee Creek cattle from roaming beyond their property line. A hundred yards farther down the road, she came to the small wooden bridge that crossed over one of several unnamed creeks that ran through their property.
She drove up the final hill, then paused, looking down on the homestead that had been in her father’s side of the family since the mid-eighteen-hundreds. It was hard not to feel a sense of pride. From here she could see the white barns with their green roofs, stacks of rolled hay, sorting pens and chutes, and the neatly fenced paddocks and larger pastures. All the outbuildings had been constructed in the hollow of a wide valley, high enough that there would be no danger of flooding in the spring, but protected from the worst of the winds that came off the mountains.
The main house sat above the other buildings, backing onto a grove of pines and with a view out to Square Butte—a flat-topped mountain that dominated the skyline to the north.
Through a stand of ponderosa pines to her left, Cassidy could see glimmers of Cold Coffee Lake around which their father had built homes for all three of his sons.
Driving past the graveled turnoff to the lake and the cabins, Cassidy crossed through the main gate, with the wrought iron detailing of the double Cs that were the family brand. Her tires rumbled yet again on another cattle guard. And then she was home.
Four other vehicles were already parked in the yard. Her mother’s white SUV, Jackson’s black one, Corb’s Jeep and, of course, Farley’s charcoal-and-silver truck, with the Farley & Sons logo on the side.
Cassidy slid in next to her mother’s SUV, where she wouldn’t block any of the other vehicles. She cut off the ignition and waited to see if her arrival had been watched for.
Given the trouble Farley had described, she hadn’t been expecting a welcoming committee. Probably everyone was down at the barn with the sick horse. But there was one faithful soul waiting to greet her.
Sky, still trim and healthy-looking despite the gray flecks in her black coat, must have been sleeping on the front porch. She was sitting now, head cocked, waiting for the cue.
She’d been trained not to go near any vehicle if there were people inside. But the moment Cassidy stepped out, she came running as fast as her old hip joints would let her.
“Hey there, Sky! Oh, it’s so good to see you.” Cassidy crouched by her dog, wrapping her arms around her and burrowing her face in Sky’s sun-warmed coat.
Sky wriggled and grunted, panted and smiled, demonstrating in every way possible her extreme happiness at having Cassidy home again.
“Has Corb been taking good care of you? You sure look pretty.” Cassidy gave her dog a lot of pats and scratches, then sat up on her haunches to look around. The place was almost eerily quiet. Not even the housekeeper, placid, middle-aged Bonny, was here. Must be one of her days off.
They’d had many housekeepers over the years. Olive had exacting standards and most didn’t last more than six months or so. But Bonny was made of stern stuff and had been here almost four years now. Cassidy was glad. Besides having loads of common sense—that helped her deal with Olive—she was also an excellent cook.
Cassidy patted Sky again, wondering why her dog wasn’t up at Corb and Laurel’s cabin. When Cassidy had left for college five years ago, she’d been living in residence and unable to bring her dog with her. Poor, lonely Sky had turned to Brock for companionship, then after his death, to Corb.
Now she lived almost full-time with Corb, Laurel and Stephanie...and yet somehow she’d known to wait at the main house today. Possibly Sky had heard Cassidy’s name spoken more often than usual and had guessed she was coming home?
Cassidy didn’t put it past her. Sky was a remarkable dog. When she was younger, she’d been as useful as an extra hand at moving and herding cattle. Now she was too old to work, but she was as smart as ever.
Finally, Cassidy stood, brushing the fine gravel from her knees. She could go into the house and wait for the rest of them to join her. But she’d seen Farley at the café and the world hadn’t fallen apart. Besides, she was anxious to find out if Lucy was going to be okay.
She gave the signal for Sky to follow. “Come on, girl. Let’s head down to the barn and find out what’s going on.”
* * *
W HEN HER MOTHER decided to go into the quarter horse breeding business, they’d built a new equine barn equipped to accommodate twenty to twenty-five broodmares with a separate wing for the stallions. The family’s riding horses were pastured and boarded in a smaller, less high-tech barn, closer to the house. This barn—they called it the home barn—had also been updated at that time, including the addition of a new tack room and office, both of which Jackson had designed.
It was to the home barn that Cassidy headed now, Sky heeling obediently on her left. She was glad she didn’t need to waste any time changing. Even when going to school in the city, she’d continued to dress the way she always had: in jeans and cowboy boots. She’d grown up in Western wear, and that was how she felt most comfortable.
In fact, her main concern about going to work for an accounting firm in the city was adjusting to the suits and high-heeled pumps she knew she’d be expected to wear. She’d bought such an outfit for job interviews and so far every time she’d worn it, she’d ended up with blisters on her heels.
Voices became audible as she drew nearer to the barn. The main door was open and her mother, Corb and Jackson were watching while Farley examined the golden palomino in the first stall. Cassidy stopped in the doorway, as yet unnoticed, waiting to see what would happen.
Her mother looked trim in jeans and a pressed gingham shirt. No doubt hard work and a healthy diet had helped preserve her petite figure, but her silver-blond hair, styled in an attractive bob, was the result of regular monthly trips to the salon.
She had her hands on her slender hips as she watched over Lucky Lucy’s examination, offering Farley pointers as he worked, which were no doubt exasperating to the experienced vet.
“Be careful,” Olive said. “You don’t want to hurt her.”
No response from Farley.
“See how she’s holding her head?” Olive continued. “Low and extended? That’s not usual for her.”
Farley, who would not have needed to have this pointed out, replied calmly, “She’s probably doing that to relieve the pain in her throat and lymph nodes.”
Of the four of them, he was the only one Cassidy couldn’t see clearly because he was in the stall with the horse. Just the sound of his voice, however, made her feel nervous and excited, the same odd cocktail of emotions she’d experienced earlier in the café.
“You seen any other cases of strangles lately?” Corb asked. Her brother’s shoulders were hunched with worry, as were Jackson’s. Both men had their backs to her, until Sky came up between them.
“Hey there, girl.” Corb bent to pat the border collie’s head. “What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be on the porch, enjoying your retirement.”
With that, blond, green-eyed Corb looked back toward the house, and a smile slowly broke through his serious expression.
“Look who’s home. How’re you doing, Cass?”
Of all her family, Corb was Cassidy’s favorite. He was easygoing, like their father had been, with a warm smile and eyes that sparkled with good humor. With his blond hair and green eyes, he was also the brother that looked most like her. If they’d been closer in age, people probably would have taken them for twins.
He gave her a one-armed hug, pulling her up between him and Jackson.
Her foster brother had dark, brooding good looks, and a natural reserve that made him difficult to really know. But the smile he gave her now was kind and friendly. “Hey, Cassidy, good to see you.”
“You, too, Jackson.” She felt her throat tighten. “Hi, Mom.”
“Sweetheart.” Olive swooped in and gave Cassidy a hug and a kiss. “How were your exams?” Then, Olive continued without waiting for an answer, “I was saddling Lucky Lucy for a ride this morning when I spotted some nasal discharge. I don’t blame Jackson for not noticing sooner, even though the horses are now his responsibility.”
“Jackson has a lot on his hands these days besides overseeing the care of the home horses,” Corb said mildly, countering his mother’s implied criticism. “Spring is the busiest time of year for all of us and he’s had four new foals birthed this week alone. Plus he’s busy with the mare breeding program for the quarter horses.”
Cassidy admired the way Corb managed to stand up to their mother without getting upset. All her brothers—except maybe B.J.—were better at that skill than she was.
Every time she came home, she did so with the resolve that this time would be different. She wouldn’t let her mother get to her. She wouldn’t lose her cool. But neither would she let her mother derail her. She had her own plans for her own life. And that was that.
“My exams went well, Mom, but I’m sorry about Lucky Lucy. Is it strangles for sure?” She moved in closer and Farley, who’d been collecting a sample of mucus, now sealed the cotton swab into a vial.
Then he straightened. For the second time that day he took her measure.
“I’m pretty sure. She’s got some swelling around the jaw area, as well as a fever and clear nasal discharge.”
Cassidy shifted her gaze from the vet to the horse. Lucy was gorgeous, and as recently as her last visit home for Stephanie’s baby shower, had been very healthy. She patted Lucy’s flank, then moved in closer.
“Remember me, sweet thing?” she murmured. “We had a great ride together last February. ’Course there was some snow we had to contend with back then.”
As if in answer, Lucy coughed, and more discharge gathered in her nasal cavity. Cassidy glanced at Farley, hoping for reassurance. “How bad is it? Is she suffering?”
“Feel here.” Farley took her hand and guided it to a swollen area on Lucy’s neck. “Her lymph nodes are pretty enlarged. I’m sure it’s causing her pain or she wouldn’t be distending her neck like this.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Cassidy gentled her with soft strokes, trying to erase the feeling of Farley’s strong, capable hands over hers. Lucy nickered, voicing her appreciation of the extra attention.
“I’ll run a test just to be sure,” Farley said. “But for now we’d better assume that she does have strangles.”
“Crap.” Jackson sounded disgusted. “We’ll have to disinfect everything, won’t we?”
“Afraid so.” Farley kept a hand on Lucky Lucy as he walked around her, then out to the aisle. “Good thing you keep your riding horses separate from the breeders. Hopefully the quarter horses will be fine. But I’d recommend no sales or purchases until the strangles is under control.”
Olive made an impatient sound. “Is that really necessary? You said yourself, we have the two operations completely separate.”
“Just to be sure, I think it is. You’ll have to set up a quarantine area here in the barn. Watch the other horses carefully. Any of them show signs of the disease, then they’ll need to be separated, too.”
Jackson rubbed his unshaven chin. “This is going to mean a lot of extra work. Frankly me and my men are stretched to our limits right now...and Corb and his wranglers are, too.”
“Jackson’s right about that,” Corb was quick to agree. “Most of the calves have been born, but we’ve got branding and vaccinating...and soon we’ll need to be moving the herd to higher ground.”
Suddenly it seemed like everyone was looking at Cassidy. Heck and darn. “You know I’m only home for a couple of weeks, right?”
Olive frowned at that, but Corb wasn’t deterred.
“A couple of weeks could see us through the worst of this. If we’re lucky.” He turned to Farley. “What’s involved, exactly?”
Farley shook his head. “Strangles is incredibly contagious. It can be passed on through indirect contact with buckets, feed, grass, fences and especially water troughs.”
“I don’t see why our quarter horses should be under quarantine then,” Olive said sharply. “We feed, water and pasture them entirely separately from the riding horses.”
“The infection can also be transmitted by flies,” Jackson replied calmly. “Still, I have to wonder how Lucy caught this. I haven’t heard of any other cases in the area.”
“Have you brought any new horses onto the property lately?” Farley placed the vial for testing into his black case, then went to the sink at the corner of the barn and washed his hands.
Jackson shook his head no, then glanced at Olive. “Didn’t I see you load Lucy in the trailer last week?”
“That wasn’t Lucy,” Olive said shortly. “I did buy some secondhand tack at auction on the weekend.”
“That could be your culprit. I hate to say it, but your whole tack room should be disinfected. You’re going to need to stock up on chlorhexidine soap.”
“We have some,” Corb said, pointing to a gallon by the sink.
“You’re going to need more. But I have a few gallons in my truck I can give you for now.” He turned to Cassidy. “If you’re in charge of containing this infection, we should sit down somewhere and talk.” He looked as excited as if he’d just sentenced himself to an hour in a dentist’s chair.
Cassidy felt the same way herself. After a semester of studies, she’d hoped to spend most of her break on the back of a horse—not cooped up in a barn with a bucket and a rag.
“You two might as well talk in the office.” Olive waved to the door next to the tack room. “I’ll bring out some coffee and sandwiches. I know Corb and Jackson will be happy to get back to work.”
“Over the moon with excitement,” Corb teased. He gave Cassidy a tap on the shoulder. “We’ll catch up later, okay? Come by tonight and say hi to Laurel and Stephanie?”
“I did drop in at the café for a visit on my way through town, but I’ll still take you up on that offer.”
“Better disinfect your arms and hands, if you’ve had any contact with Lucy,” Farley warned as the two men and Olive left the barn. “And your boots.”
“I’ll set up a boot dip right now.” Cassidy found a plastic tub in the tack room and mixed up a disinfecting solution. She set the tub by the door so that anyone leaving the barn would be able to disinfect their boots on their way out.
Corb, Jackson and her mother all made use of the new boot dip then headed off to their respective chores.
And then it was just the two of them in a barn that was suddenly, uncomfortably silent.
For a second Cassidy considered trying to clear the air between them. But how could she possibly do that? What she’d done had been inexcusable, even if she’d only been twenty-one at the time.
Instead, she headed for the office, trusting Farley to follow, which he did, along with Sky.
The border collie settled at her feet when she sat in the oak chair behind the desk. Farley took the upholstered chair opposite, dwarfing the thing with his tall, muscular frame.
It took a lot of physical strength to be a large-animal vet, and no one could doubt that Farley had that. But it was more than his size that she found intimidating right now. When Farley looked you in the eyes, you could tell he wasn’t one to compromise.
Or make allowances.
Cassidy found paper and a pen for taking notes, then waited for her instructions. As the silence stretched on, she forced herself to meet the vet’s gaze.
“What can I do to help Lucy?”
“Hot compresses on her swollen glands. The abscesses will probably rupture on their own in about a week, but if they don’t, I’ll need to lance them.”
Cassidy made a note. Hot compresses. “Anything else?”
“It’s important that she keep eating and drinking to maintain her strength. You can try feeding her gruel—that might go down easier than her usual hay mixture. But the majority of your effort should go into keeping the infection contained.”
She nodded, well aware of the risks.
“As well as keeping Lucy quarantined from the other horses you’ll need to clean and disinfect her water buckets and feed containers daily. Bedding should be burned, walls and fences scrubbed down.” His gaze fell to her hands, which were smooth and pale after so many months of study. “You up for all of that?”
“Guess I’ll have to be.”
“There’s more. Any contaminated pasture areas should be rested for at least four weeks.”
“You want those scrubbed down, too?”
One corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “Fortunately for you, ultraviolet light from the sun has natural antibacterial qualities.”
“Yeah. I’m feeling really lucky right now. As is Lucy, I’m sure.”
Once more Farley seemed to struggle not to smile. And seeing that, she felt an ache for the easy friendship that they’d once shared.
Though friendship wasn’t quite the right word. She’d had a crush on him dating back to the days when he and her brothers would hang out together. As a young girl, she’d followed them around the ranch until Brock ran out of patience and came up with some devious plan to get rid of her.
“Remember the time you, Corb and Brock lured me up the hayloft in the old cattle barn, then pulled down the ladder and stranded me up there?”
Farley blinked. She’d disarmed him by bringing up a story from so long ago, before the trouble between them.
“I do. How did you get down, by the way?”
“One of the hired hands heard me yelling and came to the rescue.”
“You were quite the tomboy back then. But I guess it’s going to be accounting offices and city life for you now, huh?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He shrugged. “I’m not the only one who’s surprised.”
This was true. Corb, B.J. and her mother had all tried to talk her out of studying business when she’d first told them about her plans to go to college. She didn’t know if they didn’t think she was smart enough, or what, but they certainly hadn’t been supportive.
“Yoo-hoo,” her mother’s voice rang out. A few seconds later she breezed in the door with a tray. “I don’t mean to interrupt, just wanted to bring you some lunch.”
She’d brought out a carafe of coffee with mugs and a plate of sandwiches. After setting the tray on the middle of the desk between them, she stood back and looked from Cassidy to Farley with a smile of satisfaction.
“Actually,” Farley said, “we were just finishing up here.”
“Don’t be in such a rush. You have to eat, don’t you? Take your time. I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do.”
And with that, Olive left, making a point of closing the door behind her.
Olive didn’t often make herself scarce, so Cassidy couldn’t help but be suspicious. Was it possible her mother was hoping she and Farley...?
No. It couldn’t be.
She risked a quick look at the vet’s expression, trying to judge if he’d felt any weird vibes from her mother, too.
“Olive seems to be in a good mood for a rancher who has just had her livestock quarantined,” he commented, reaching for one of the ham-and-cheese triangles.
“Yeah. She’s up to something.” She felt the hot color rising on her neck.
“Matchmaking?” Farley suggested.
“Kind of looks that way, doesn’t it?”
“A little,” he admitted. The light in his eyes grew darker, colder. “Guess you forgot to tell her that I’m the last man on earth you’d ever want to be with.”
Chapter Three
It wasn’t true. Farley wasn’t the last man on earth she’d want to be with. But she had told him he was. One minute before leaving the dance she’d gone to as his date—on the arm of another man.
At least, she’d tried to leave with another guy. Oddly enough, she couldn’t remember the name of that other guy anymore. But she did recall that she’d been the one to ask him to dance. With Farley on the sidelines, silent and angry, they’d danced an entire set together before she’d convinced the other guy that he wanted to drive her home.
They’d left the dance floor arm in arm. But Farley, in a voice that was not open to negotiation, had stepped in at that point. “You came to the dance with me. I’m damn well seeing you home safely.”
The other guy had stepped aside hastily then, no doubt having assessed Farley’s size and the girth of his biceps, and decided he liked the current shape of his nose just fine, thank you very much.
Cassidy had endured a fifteen-minute drive in Farley’s truck during which time not a single word was spoken. When they’d pulled up to the ranch house, he’d been out of the truck so fast that he had her door open before she’d even located the lever to do it herself. With his arms crossed over his broad chest, he’d stood watching until she was safely inside her home. Only then had he driven away.
And he’d pretty much never spoken to her since then.
Did she blame him? No.
Was she embarrassed for the way she’d acted? Hell, yes.
The truth was, she never should have accepted his invitation to the dance in the first place. But he’d caught her off guard in the Lonesome Spur Bar on the night of her twenty-first birthday. She’d been out having her first legal drink with a group of friends when he caught her eye and crossed the room.
She’d been ridiculously excited. Farley was older, hot and sooo handsome. And suddenly he had noticed her, too.
“Is it true?” he’d asked her, dark eyes smoldering with an emotion she’d never seen in them before. “Pretty Cassidy Lambert is no longer jailbait?”
“I stopped being jailbait a long time ago,” she’d announced with a voice full of sass and vinegar. That didn’t mean she wasn’t quaking inside. She’d assumed Farley was completely out of her league. But now he was finally seeing her as someone other than his friends’ annoying little sister.
He’d asked her to the Harvest Dance being held in the community hall the next evening. She’d accepted. And then all it had taken was one dance in his arms and she’d panicked.
Simple as that.
“Is it too late for me to apologize for my behavior that night? I was just a kid.”
“No.” Farley placed a hand on the desk. “If you’d still been a kid, I wouldn’t have gone near you.”
“I suppose that’s true. But I was young.”
“It wasn’t the classiest move I’ve ever seen, Cass. But it was honest. You always were one for knowing what you wanted.” He paused, then added pointedly, “And what you didn’t.”
She stared at him mutely. How could he talk as if he knew her so well, when she, herself, had never quite figured out why she’d acted the way she had that night? She hadn’t been then, and wasn’t now, a man-crazy sort of woman who liked to go on lots of dates and play one guy off another.
“I should get going. I’ve got another call to make before I head back to my office. You’re clear on how to handle the strangles?”
She nodded, not bothering to point out that he’d only eaten one of her mother’s sandwiches. She guessed that her company wasn’t conducive to a good appetite on his part. She’d been so wrong to think that talking about that night would clear the air between them or ease her guilty conscience.
If anything, she felt worse.
It wasn’t the classiest move I’ve ever seen, Cass.
God, she felt about four inches high right now.
Clumsily she got to her feet, almost knocking over her mug of coffee as she moved out from behind the desk.
Farley’s eyes stayed cool. “I can see myself out.”
“I know.” She followed him, anyway. “But I just wanted to ask you about something else.”
“What is it?”
“You said I should watch the rest of the horses in case they get sick, too. But what, exactly, should I be looking for?”
“Glad you asked that.” Farley opened the office door, waited for her to pass through, then exited himself. “Don’t wait until you see nasal discharge or hear the horse coughing. If any of your horses go off their feed, or seem to lack their usual energy, separate them from the rest of the herd immediately and give me a call.”
“Okay.” They both washed up at the sink again and used the boot dip before leaving the barn.
Midafternoon sun had Cassidy wishing she had the sunglasses she’d left behind in her truck. Squinting, she glanced at Farley, who was setting a quick pace toward his own vehicle.
“How long will we be under quarantine?”
Farley tossed his black case into the passenger side of the truck. He paused a moment to consider her question. “If you’re diligent with disinfecting, if Lucy recovers quickly and if none of the other horses come down with it, I’d say about three weeks.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yeah, but better to contain this thing now before it spreads and becomes a bigger problem.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or were you not planning to stay in Coffee Creek that long?”
“That depends on whether I get a job offer or not.”
“You excited about spending your life as a pencil pusher in a city high-rise?”
“Why not?” she countered, placing her hands on her hips and narrowing her gaze. “You think swabbing mucus from a sick horse’s nostril is so much better?”
“Actually, I do.” He reached for his hat, settling it on his head, before giving her a final, parting nod. “But I wouldn’t expect you to understand why. Though the little girl who grew up on this ranch would get it.”
* * *
“T AKE A LOOK at these paint chips, sweetie,” Olive said. “Which one do you like better with these fabric samples for your new duvet cover?”
Cassidy had just hauled her suitcase into her old bedroom, halting when she saw her mother sitting amid piles of fabric swatches and paint chips spread over the blue-and-white quilt she’d had as long as she could remember.
The handmade quilt was an heirloom from her grandmother Lambert. Cassidy had always loved it, though admittedly the fabric was now threadbare on the edges.
“What’s this about, Mother?” She was tired after the long drive and the stressful encounter with Farley. Bad enough that they had strangles on the ranch and that she was in charge of containing it. If only her mother could have called some other vet rather than Farley.
“We haven’t decorated your room since you were a little girl. Don’t you think it’s time to spruce it up a little? I thought we’d paint and order new curtains and bedding. That desk in the corner is too small for you now. What do you say about replacing it with an armoire? A beautiful antique would look lovely in that corner. I saw one in Lewistown the other day that would be perfect.”
Since the bed was unavailable, Cassidy hoisted her heavy suitcase up on the desk that her mother had just pointed out. “What’s the point in fixing up the room when I’m only here for a few weeks?”
“That’s if you get the job,” Olive reminded her. “It’s always good to have a backup plan and you know you always have a home and a job here with us.”
“Mom, I’ve told you that isn’t what I want to do with my life. If I don’t end up getting this job, I’ll apply for another.”
“So you really mean to follow in B.J.’s footsteps, do you?” Her mother did nothing to hide her disappointment.
B.J. had been traveling the rodeo circuit for almost as long as Cassidy could remember. He’d left home at eighteen and though he made the occasional pit stop at home, he never stayed long.
“I’m not planning to start competing in rodeos, Mom.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. This land has been in our family for five generations. Your father and I planned things so we have room enough and work enough for all of you.”
Then why didn’t Dad build me one of those cottages he had made for the boys?
Cassidy didn’t voice the question, even though it was often on her mind. The truth was, she’d never wanted to live so close to her mother. Nevertheless, it did rankle that she’d never even been offered what had been so freely given to her brothers.
“Mom, you just finished helping me get five years of higher education. Surely you must want me to put it to good use.”
“You could take over the bookkeeping and taxes here at our ranch. Handle our dealings with the bank and manage our investments.”
And be under the thumb of her mother and brothers for the rest of her life? “Mom, I have to make my own way. Do my own thing.”
“You think you’ll be happy living in Billings for the rest of your life?”
“It’s not that far. I’ll visit. Like I did when I was going to school in Bozeman.”
Her mom pressed a hand to her forehead. “That is not the right plan for you. I promise you, Cassie, you’ll be making a big mistake if you walk away from your heritage.”
Stay calm. Stay firm. That was Cassidy’s new mantra and she was determined to stick to it. “It’s my life, Mom. And my decision.”
Olive sighed. She turned her gaze to the view out the window, then back to Cassidy. “Let’s drop it for now. I don’t want a big argument to spoil your first day home.”
Right. ’Cause it had been such a great day so far.
Cassidy took a deep breath and reminded herself that she’d vowed to try harder with her mother. “Why don’t we go to the kitchen, brew a pot of tea and talk about something else?”
“In a minute.” Olive picked up two paint squares. “I promised Abby at the hardware store I’d phone and place my order this afternoon. Which do you prefer? The sage-green or the buttercream?”
* * *
D AN F ARLEY DROVE away from Coffee Creek Ranch feeling disappointed, unsettled...frustrated. He wasn’t usually a man given to complicated emotions. What was it about Cassidy Lambert? After all these years she ought to be nothing to him.
But it didn’t help that she’d shown such concern for the sick horse. He’d always been a sucker for her soft heart.
And it helped even less that she still filled out her jeans in all the right places. Add in that beautiful blond hair and those disarming green eyes—hell, any man could be excused for losing his head over a girl like Cassidy.
But he didn’t want to do it twice.
To distract himself, he decided to check in with Liz.
“Just finished at the Lamberts’ and I’m on my way to Silver Creek.”
“That took a while.”
Liz was probably worried he wouldn’t make the date with Amber. Why did all women assume a man wasn’t happy unless he was suitably married?
“Yeah. I’ve put the place under quarantine. We’ll have to run the tests, but I’m pretty sure about the result.”
“Bad luck for them,” Liz allowed. “Good luck at Silver Creek. Hopefully things will go better there.”
* * *
M ADDIE T URNER WAS waiting for him when he arrived, a stocky woman with wiry gray hair and plain features—quite the contrast to her fine-featured, well-coiffed sister, Olive. The two border collies flanking her were younger versions of Cassidy’s dog, Sky. The dogs looked anxious, just like their owner.
Maddie was wearing faded overalls and a threadbare shirt—both smeared with blood. Her face was damp and she appeared exhausted. He knew from experience that helping a cow with a difficult delivery was hard, physical labor.
“You okay?”
“Been better. Thanks for getting here so fast,” she said, as he grabbed his gear out of the truck, then slipped on a pair of overalls.
“I was next door at Coffee Creek.”
She didn’t blink an eye at the mention of her sister’s place. “Lucky you were so close. I don’t think we have much time.”
She led the way to the barn, where he could hear the sounds of distress from the mother-to-be. They found the poor thing on the stall floor, with terror in her wide brown eyes.
She looked on the small side. Young. “This her first calf?”
Maddie nodded.
A quick exam confirmed that the calf was positioned backward and upside down. A C-section was their only hope. “Anyone else around?” he asked hopefully.
“Nope.”
“No hired help?”
She avoided eye contact. “I’ve had to cut back lately.”
“Too bad. We could use an extra set of hands here.” Or two, or four. He started setting out his equipment, going through the steps in his head. Since he didn’t have an assistant, he needed to have everything at the ready before he prepped the cow for the incision.
“I can secure her head,” Maddie offered.
He wasn’t so sure about that. Maddie looked pretty exhausted. “How long has she been in labor?”
“I brought her in from the field a few days ago. Just had a feeling she was going to have some trouble. Sure enough when I came out this morning I could see that her labor had started, but wasn’t going anywhere.”
He sighed. “Okay. We better not lose any more time.”
“I agree.” Maddie moved behind the prone cow, sinking to the straw bedding and then locking the animal’s head to prevent her from moving around. The exhausted heifer didn’t even resist.
“Poor thing,” Maddie said softly. “Don’t you worry. Doc Farley is going to get this critter out of you.”
The tender caring in Maddie Turner’s voice and the firm yet gentle way she handled the animal reminded Farley of her niece, Cassidy, trying to comfort Lucky Lucy earlier.
He shelved the thought, returning his focus to the job at hand. Maddie couldn’t afford to lose the calf or the cow. More than money was at stake here, though, and Farley was determined not to fail.
* * *
A N HOUR AND a half later, the new mother and her matching black calf were resting in the barn, and Farley and Maddie were in the kitchen having coffee. Farley was tired, but pleased. Helping to bring new life into the world was one of the most rewarding aspects of his job.
He ought to be on the road, heading to the next ranch. But he sensed Maddie wasn’t ready to be alone, so he’d agreed to stop in for a bit. Now Maddie placed a plate with crackers and cheese on the table.
“Sorry I don’t have anything more substantial to offer. You must be starving. I know I am.” She opened the upper freezer compartment of her fridge. “I could fry up some sausage and eggs if you have twenty minutes to spare.”
He thought about the lame cow and the forty-five minutes it would take to drive to the Harringtons’ spread. Then he thought about Amber and the movie she’d been hoping to see. That was out of the question now. But hopefully he could still manage a late dinner. “I really don’t.”
“Didn’t think so.” Maddie closed the fridge door, then sank into a chair and reached for her coffee. Her dogs were in the room with them. Farley thought he had them straight now. Trix was sleeping on the mat by the back door and Honey was curled up under the table. As well as the dogs, there was a cat prowling the place, too. Short-haired and ginger-colored, she’d slunk into the room earlier, taken Farley’s measure, then exited with nose held high.
Maddie’s kitchen was a warm, cozy place. The wooden table and chairs had the sort of “distressed” look that came from decades of being used and not coddled, as did the wooden floors and cabinets. The counters were cluttered, but clean, and the big farm sink gleamed as if it had been disinfected recently.
The focal point of the room was the antique, black, wood-burning cookstove. Warm air drifted from the stove to soothe the sore muscles of Farley’s shoulders and upper back. He fought the urge to close his eyes, knowing that if he succumbed to sleep he might find himself still in this room an hour later.
He crunched down on a couple of crackers and a slab of the cheddar, then followed the food with a swallow of hot, almost scalding, coffee. Maddie made it the old-fashioned way, boiled in a percolator on the stove.
“So what’s up at Coffee Creek?” Maddie asked him.
He hesitated before answering. Everyone in the community of Coffee Creek was aware of the rift between the Turner sisters, though no one knew the exact cause. Some people felt that Olive’s marriage to neighboring rancher Bobby Lambert had been the start of it. One fact was irrefutable: Maddie hadn’t attended their wedding. And despite the size of the wedding—apparently several hundred—the absence had been very conspicuous.
“One of their horses has strangles,” he finally said.
“Sorry to hear that.” Maddie sounded genuinely concerned.
“Hopefully it hasn’t had time to spread. They have the sick horse quarantined and Cassidy is going to be disinfecting the barn.”
“Cassidy? So she’s home from college, is she?”
Maddie seemed to know a lot about her sister’s family. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Since she’d never married herself or had children, the Lamberts were her closest relations. Which only made the feud between the sisters that much sadder.
“Only for a few weeks, apparently. She’s hoping to get a job with some accounting firm in Billings.”
“Really? I can’t imagine Olive letting her do that.”
“I’m not sure Olive has much say in the matter.”
Maddie’s lips tightened. “Then you don’t know my sister very well.”
“She hasn’t been able to keep B.J. from the rodeo circuit,” he pointed out.
“All the more reason she’s going to fight like hell to keep her daughter close to home.”
“You think? Cassidy’s no pushover.” Tenacity was in her DNA. And growing up with all those brothers had only made her tougher and more resilient.
“You don’t know Olive,” Maddie repeated.
“Not as well as you do, obviously,” he allowed. “But my money’s still on Cassidy.”
Chapter Four
Cassidy took the time to have tea with her mother, then changed into rubber boots and gloves and headed back to the barn. She had her faults, but avoiding hard work wasn’t one of them.
After diluting the disinfectant that Farley had left with her, she started with the horse troughs and feeding buckets. Once those had been thoroughly washed and rinsed, she went to check on Lucy.
Oh, how she hated to see the sweet mare in obvious discomfort. Lucy had a fierce spirit, but she was also gentle and trusting with her rider. Olive had purchased her from one of the best trainers in Montana and it showed. Cassidy had known she’d spent a pretty penny on her, too, when Olive demurred from sharing the purchase price with them.
Privately, Cassidy thought Lucy’s potential was being wasted as a working horse on a cattle ranch. She had lovely footing. Cassidy bet she’d make a great barrel-racing horse. And she was so pretty, she’d be a real crowd favorite.
In high school Cassidy had dabbled in the sport, coached by her brothers and encouraged by her mom. But in her final school year she’d decided she needed to focus on her grades and she’d given up competing.
She hadn’t run a course since.
“Hey, Lucy. Think you’d like being the center of attention in a rodeo ring?”
The worst waste of all, of course, would be if Lucy didn’t recover from the strangles. Cassidy took some comfort from the fact that Farley hadn’t seemed overly worried.
Cassidy went to the tack room to heat some compresses, then returned to Lucy’s stall.
“I have something here that should help you feel better.”
Lucy nickered and shuffled restlessly. Her nostrils were oozing pus again and she looked as miserable as a horse could look without actually collapsing to the ground.
Cassidy pressed the heated pads against the mare’s swollen lymph nodes. “How does that feel?” She’d wash down the stalls next, then mix up some warm mash for Lucy. She had fencing to clean and the tack room, too, but that might have to wait for tomorrow because she needed to examine the rest of the riding horses before nightfall and make sure none of them were exhibiting signs of the sickness.
Three hours later, Cassidy finally made it back to the ranch house, where she showered and had dinner with her mother. Olive was hurrying the meal because she had a meeting in town at seven.
“I’m sorry to rush out on your first night home. But if I don’t go they’ll just make a bunch of silly decisions that I’ll have to fix the next meeting.”
The committee was working to build a historical site at the intersection of Highway 81 and Main Street, kitty-corner to the Crossroads Gas and Snack. A life-sized bronze of a quarter horse had been donated to the town and the idea was to have a walking loop around the statue with wooden signposts detailing the history of the area.
Olive had been shepherding the project from the start and had contributed a significant chunk of cash to the fundraising efforts.
“That’s fine, Mom. I’ll run over and visit Corb and the gang.”
“I hate to leave you with the dishes...”
“Not a problem. Have fun at your meeting.”
Her mom grabbed her leather coat from the closet at the side door, then slipped on her best pair of go-to-meeting boots. “If you think fun is even a possibility, then you haven’t met Straws Monahan.”
Cassidy chuckled at that, knowing that even the strong-minded Straws whose property was on the other side of Coffee Creek, closer to Lewistown, would be no match for her mother.
Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen was spotless and Cassidy slipped outside to walk to her brother’s. Sky followed at her side for the quarter of a mile to Cold Coffee Lake Road. Trees—a mixture of aspen and ponderosa pine—separated each of the brothers’ cabins, giving them some privacy from one another.
Jackson lived in the cabin closest to the main house. Originally built for B.J., when it had become clear that he was going to be on the road most of the time, Olive had reluctantly given permission for Jackson to take up residence.
The other cabin had been Brock’s. It was vacant now, and Cassidy had no idea what would become of it. She’d heard Corb suggest that Olive offer it to Winnie, but that idea had gone over like a lead balloon.
Olive and Winnie had been like oil and water from the start. Cassidy knew, since her mother had confided in her, that Olive had hoped Brock would marry someone else. And that she felt Winnie fell short of the mark as far as being the wife of a cattleman.
Cassidy hadn’t bothered arguing.
Nothing she said had ever changed her mother’s opinion on anything, anyway.
Cassidy helped Sky up the stairs to Corb and Laurel’s front door. Exhausted from the walk, Sky seemed happy to curl up on a plump cushion on the plank floor of the porch that was obviously a favorite sleeping spot.
Since the door had been left open a crack, Cassidy gave it a nudge. “Hello?”
“Come on in!” It was Laurel who answered. “We were hoping you’d drop by.”
Cassidy left her boots in the foyer and found Laurel in the kitchen, where the counters were littered with stacked dishes and pots and pans.
Laurel didn’t seem perturbed by the mess. She was at the sink, her hands in soapy water. “Hey, Cassidy, some homecoming. I hear you spent the day disinfecting in the barn. But I bet that wasn’t as bad as this mess.” She wrinkled her nose at the stove behind her.
Cassidy came round the counter to give her sister-in-law a hug. Once more she thought how smart Corb had been to marry this woman. Laurel’s easygoing nature and sense of humor were a good match for him.
“Yeah, it’s been a chaotic day.” Cassidy glanced at the stove, which was splattered with baked-on tomato sauce and something that looked like egg yolk. “You, too?”
“Every day’s chaotic when you have a new baby. After two months you’d think I’d have things figured out and be on some sort of schedule, but you’d be wrong.”
Cassidy laughed. Already she felt more relaxed than she’d been all day. “Where’s the rest of the family?”
“Corb’s giving Stephanie her bath upstairs. They’ll be down in a sec.” She glanced at her own T-shirt, which had some stains matching those on the stove. “I could use a bath myself. Not to mention some clean clothes. Sorry to be such a slob.”
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C.J. Carmichael
Going Home Shouldn't Be This Hard…Cassidy Lambert traded in Montana's big sky country for the big city lights—forever. Until a potentially devastating equine illness threatens her family's ranch, and Cassidy is needed at home to help. She thinks she knows what she wants from life, but the more she's around sexy veterinarian Dan Farley, the more confused she gets.When Cassidy comes back to the open western landscape Dan loves, she's nothing but a beautiful burr under his saddle. She stomped on his heart once before, and he's not eager for another go-around. But he just can't keep himself away from those green eyes and sweet curves. It's a good thing she'll soon be gone again. Because he can't trust her–or himself–when she's around!
Going Home Shouldn’t Be This Hard…
Cassidy Lambert traded in Montana’s big sky country for the big-city lights—forever. Until a potentially devastating equine illness threatens her family’s ranch, and Cassidy is needed at home to help. She thinks she knows what she wants from life, but the more she’s around sexy veterinarian Dan Farley, the more confused she gets.
When Cassidy comes back to the open Western landscape Dan loves, she’s nothing but a beautiful burr under his saddle. She stomped on his heart once before, and he’s not eager for another go-around. But he just can’t keep himself away from those green eyes and sweet curves. It’s a good thing she’ll soon be gone again. Because he can’t trust her—or himself—when she’s around!
The one person Cassidy didn’t expect to see in the barn examining the newest sick horse was Farley.
“So how is Chickweed doing?” She patted the horse as she walked around him, doing a quick visual exam. “Is he running a fever?”
“Afraid so. And he’s definitely suffering some pain—see how swollen he is under his jaw?” Farley placed her hand over the enlarged lymph nodes, and she nodded.
Not only did she feel the evidence of strangles in the horse, but she also felt the rough calluses of Farley’s hand. And the strength. And the warmth.
She remembered what his hands had felt like on her waist and on her shoulder, when they’d danced together four years ago. She’d never forgotten and never would.
Did he ever think about the good part of that night?
Or just her inexcusable behavior afterward?
She glanced at his face, and saw that he was looking at her, his dark gaze intense as always, but inscrutable.
He blinked.
The moment between them—if indeed it had been a moment—was over.
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Coffee Creek, Montana, where the Lamberts—a family of ranchers and cowboys—own the largest spread in Bitterroot County, all controlled by matriarch Olive Lambert. This time Cassidy Lambert takes center stage. With her business degree finally completed, Cassidy plans to get a job in the city and finally win complete independence from her domineering family. But when one of the family horses comes down with an infectious case of strangles and vet Dan Farley puts the ranch in quarantine, Cassidy steps in to help.
The good-looking local vet is considered by many to be the county’s most eligible bachelor. Too bad Cassidy burned her bridges with him four years ago. It’ll make working together all the more uncomfortable. What happens next seems to be part of Cassidy’s mother’s controlling plans. Or is it? Please read on, and decide for yourself.
One of the pleasures of writing a family saga is creating the setting for the stories. In this case I took a real town name—Coffee Creek, Montana—nudged it a little in a southwesterly direction, made it the head of fictional Bitterroot County and decked it out with interesting establishments like the Cinnamon Stick Café and the Lonesome Spur Saloon. There’s a two-story brick courthouse in the center of town, next to the post office and library. If you’d like to see the pictures that inspired the setting and stories, please visit my storyboards on www.pinterest.com under CJ_Carmichael.
There are more stories coming, so please keep an eye out for A Promise from a Cowboy this August, with Cowboy Christmas following in October. And do visit my website, where I hold regular contests and chat about my writing process and new stories in the works.
Happy reading!
C.J. Carmichael
www.cjcarmichael.com (http://www.cjcarmichael.com)
Her Cowboy Dilemma
C.J. Carmichael
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hard to imagine a more glamorous life than being an accountant, isn’t it? Still, C.J. Carmichael gave up the thrills of income tax forms and double-entry bookkeeping when she sold her first book in 1998. She has now written more than twenty-eight novels for Harlequin Books, and invites you to learn more about her books, see photos of her hiking exploits and enter her surprise contests at www.cjcarmichael.com (http://www.cjcarmichael.com).
This is for my Aunt Eleanor Schatz, who only this summer reminded me that she was the one who introduced me to Harlequin romances. Thanks for sharing your books—here’s one for you!
Contents
Prologue (#u7225de14-037d-5544-9a73-6deef95d8a8d)
Chapter One (#u4f049b72-552e-54e5-a4fd-43a462c32bff)
Chapter Two (#uff5b4301-19dd-50e3-890d-3a522ce2f6db)
Chapter Three (#u8fd98d82-a737-5f43-b7d7-d126742353e0)
Chapter Four (#ue658977a-dca4-5a7e-be22-a96871616926)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
It was strange to think of Brock getting married today. He was the youngest of her brothers and, Cassidy Lambert would have asserted, the least serious and least responsible of the bunch.
Yet falling in love with Winnie Hayes had changed him—in good ways. And at twenty-eight, he certainly wasn’t too young for marriage. Not that his brothers had set good examples on that score.
B.J. at thirty-four and Corb, thirty-two, were both still single. Could it be they’d talked Brock out of taking the plunge?
Or maybe he’d come up with cold feet all on his own.
How else to explain the fact that Brock, who was supposed to be the groom, and Corb, who was supposed to be the best man, and their driver, friend and foster brother, Jackson Stone, were fifteen minutes late for the ceremony?
Everything else was in place. Guests filled the pews of Coffee Creek’s pretty white church. The organist was doing her best to drive them crazy with important-sounding music. And the bride and bridesmaids—Cassidy included—were waiting in the antechamber for their big moment.
“What time did Corb say they left?” Winnie asked. She was perched on the ledge of the windowsill with Cassidy, both of them peering out on a warm, sunny July afternoon.
With her dark hair, creamy skin and lovely figure, Winnie made a perfectly gorgeous bride. She was also fun, a good cook and strong enough to set Brock straight when he needed a firm hand.
Cassidy approved.
She also liked Winnie’s friend from New York City, Laurel Sheridan, who was checking her watch for the umpteenth time.
“Thirty-five minutes ago,” Laurel replied.
“What’s happened?” Winnie stared out the window as if she could will the Coffee Creek Ranch’s black SUV to suddenly appear.
“Don’t worry,” Laurel said. “Could be they ran out of gas or had a flat.”
“Or maybe they got halfway here only to realize that Corb forgot the ring.” Cassidy made the joke halfheartedly. She was actually starting to worry—something both Corb and Brock would tease her about if she admitted it later.
She swung her new cream-colored cowboy boots, admiring how they went with the sage-green dress that Winnie had picked out for her and Laurel. She and Laurel were dressed like twins, except Laurel was wearing pretty, high-heeled pumps with her dress.
Cassidy didn’t do pumps. Cowboy boots and running shoes were more her style.
“But if they’ve been held up,” Winnie said, “why haven’t they called?”
Laurel held out her hands to Winnie. “You’re making me dizzy up there.” Winnie jumped, and then Cassidy followed.
“I’ll call them,” she said, unable to stand the waiting anymore. “I’ll go get my phone.”
She slipped out of the antechamber, intending to head for the minister’s office at the other end of the hall. All three of them had left their purses—including their phones—in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet.
But a late-arriving guest caught her eye. Dan Farley, the local vet, was as darkly handsome as ever, and the distraction of seeing him unexpectedly like this made her momentarily clumsy. As she tripped over her own feet, Dan gave her a quick, dismissive glance.
Not quick enough, however, for her to miss the disapproval in his expressive dark eyes.
Or was it dislike?
Probably both, Cassidy decided, as she continued down the hall, trying not to think about the broad-shouldered vet or the beautiful woman who’d been standing by his side.
Who was that woman? Her brothers hadn’t mentioned anything about Farley having a new girlfriend. She entered the minister’s office, went to the filing cabinet at the back and pulled open the drawer.
Then again, why would they tell her? No one had any reason to assume she’d be interested in Dan Farley’s love life.
Nor was she. Not particularly.
She grabbed her phone and called up Brock’s number. As she waited for him to answer, she made her way back to the antechamber. As she slipped inside the door, she heard Winnie whispering something to Laurel, but she stopped talking as soon as she saw Cassidy.
“Brock isn’t answering.” Cassidy ended the call, frustrated. “I’ll try Corb.”
No answer there, either. “Damn.”
Finally, she called Jackson. Again, nothing. “If this is some sort of prank, I’m going to kill them.”
Actually, if she saw them right now, she’d be more inclined to give them all hugs. She was really worried and—
“Someone’s coming!” Winnie was back at the window. “I think it’s Jackson’s SUV.”
Cassidy hurried to Winnie’s side. Please let her be right! But one glance dashed all her hopes. “No. It’s the county sheriff’s vehicle.”
She looked at Laurel, then Winnie, seeing in their eyes the same fear that was making minced meat of her stomach. They watched in suspended dread as the local sheriff made her way out of her vehicle toward the church.
“Who is that?” Laurel asked.
“Sheriff Savannah Moody,” Winnie answered. “She’s a good friend of Brock’s. We were going to invite her to the wedding, but he said there was bad blood between her and B.J. I don’t know the details.”
Neither did Cassidy. One of the drawbacks of being the youngest in the family was that no one told her anything. Still, she knew the trouble went back a long time, to the last year B.J. had lived at home.
Cassidy rushed out of the antechamber in time to see Savannah make her grand entrance. The crowd—expecting to see a bride—was quelled at the unexpected sight of the sheriff.
Aware of Winnie and Laurel coming up behind her, Cassidy made room for all three of them to follow in Savannah’s wake.
“I need to talk to someone from the Lambert family.” Savannah’s official-sounding voice lifted and carried through the silent church.
B.J. stood first. “Savannah. What happened?”
Olive Lambert rose next, clutching her son’s arm. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m s-sorry, Olive. There’s been an accident. Jackson’s SUV hit a moose on Big Valley Road, about five miles from town.”
A collective gasp by the congregation was followed by a few seconds of stunned silence.
Cassidy flashed back to the days when her father had been teaching her to drive. “Always drive slower at dusk. That’s when your chances of hitting wildlife are the greatest. And pray that you never hit a moose, Cassie. They’re lethal.”
“Brock?” Winnie whispered.
Savannah rotated slowly, not having realized the bridal party was standing at her rear. “I’m so sorry, Winnie. Brock was in the front passenger seat—the impact point with the moose. He didn’t have a chance.”
Cassidy felt as if she’d been kicked in the solar plexus. She was doubling over, just as she heard B.J. ask, “What about Corb? And Jackson?”
“Jackson was driving, wearing his seat belt, and the air bag was able to cushion him from the worst of it. He’s badly bruised and shaken, but he’s okay. Your other brother was in the backseat. He should have been fine, but I’m afraid he wasn’t wearing his seat belt. As we speak he’s being medevaced to Great Falls. I can’t say how bad his injuries are. You’ll have to talk to the doctors for that.”
“Is he conscious?” Desperately Cassidy prayed for Savannah to say yes.
But the sheriff shook her head. “No.”
Brock, dead. And maybe Corb, too? No, no, no, no...
Cassidy wanted to run screaming from the church. But Laurel tugged on her arm, gesturing to Winnie. The bride was tottering on her heels, shaking violently. Cassidy reached out for her and, between them, she and Laurel managed to keep her from crashing to the floor.
“We need a sweater or a warm jacket,” Laurel called out to the crowd.
A second later, a man’s suit jacket was settled over Winnie’s shoulders, and a white cotton handkerchief was pressed into Cassidy’s palm.
She glanced up to see Dan Farley ordering the crowd to step back and give Winnie some space as he swooped the bride into his arms and carried her out into the fresh air.
Cassidy stood back to let them pass, her hand fisted over the handkerchief. Farley must have given this to her. Only then did she realize that tears were cascading down her face.
Chapter One
Ten months later
What did it say about her relationship with her family that the person Cassidy Lambert was most excited to see when she got home wasn’t a person at all, but her border collie, Sky?
Sky had been her father’s birthday surprise for her fourteen years ago. Sky was loyal, loving and, most important, uncomplicated. Cassidy knew, no matter what, that Sky would always love her and think she was the most wonderful person on the planet.
The same could not be said of her family.
Cassidy lowered the driver’s side window of her vintage 1980 Ford pickup to let in the warm spring air, then cranked up the tunes as she barreled along the 80 toward home. She knew she should reduce her speed, not only to avoid a ticket but also to prolong the drive, which she was quite enjoying.
But she was on a high. After five long years she was finally done with late nights at the library, relentless assignments and tough exams. She’d worked hard to complete the Accounting Master’s Program at Montana State University, but she’d done it, and hopefully soon would follow a high-paying job at one of the top accounting firms in Billings.
Josh Brown—her friend and would-be boyfriend if she could make up her mind about that—also had plans to move to Billings. Josh had wanted to come with her to Coffee Creek Ranch. He said it was time he met her family.
“I wouldn’t be so anxious if I were you,” she’d told him. He thought she was teasing, but she wasn’t.
“They can’t be that bad. Look at you. Unless you were adopted?”
“No such luck.” She had her mother’s delicate features and the long, lanky body that came from the Lambert side of the family. She had a soft heart—like her father. But was also headstrong and stubborn—like her mom.
Yet despite all the family resemblances, she’d always been a misfit. Part of the problem came from being the only girl in a family with three boys—four if you counted her foster brother, Jackson, who’d been with the family since she was nine. She knew it wasn’t her imagination that her mother was harder on her than the guys. And her father had treated her differently, too, when he was alive.
For one thing, he’d built three cottages by the small lake on their property for each of his sons to live in. But nothing for her.
No doubt he’d expected her to one day get married and go live with her husband. But being excluded that way had hurt.
And it still did.
The boys had been relentless teases, too. They didn’t mean to be cruel, but they never cut her a break, either. Even though she could ride as well as any of them, she couldn’t match them in strength. And, oh, how they’d loved to taunt her about that. Especially Brock...
Tears fogged her vision, and she slid her sunglasses up on her head so she could rub them away. Though almost a year had passed since the accident that had taken her youngest brother’s life—just an hour before he’d been about to marry Winnie Hayes—the loss still felt fresh.
Brock may have driven her crazy, but she’d loved him, living in hope that one day he’d stop treating her like a bratty little sister and they might become friends.
Now they would never have that chance.
Cassidy drove over a series of three gentle hills before arriving at the smattering of buildings and the weathered sign proclaiming that she’d arrived at the town of Coffee Creek. She put on her indicator light, intending to stop at the Cinnamon Stick Café for some fortification before continuing the last fifteen minutes to the ranch.
It was Wednesday morning, the last week of April, an hour before noon. She’d written her final exam the previous afternoon, had spent a night on the town with all her friends, including Josh, then loaded her car for an early departure that hadn’t included breakfast.
So she was hungry.
She angle-parked in front of the pretty café that was owned by Brock’s former fiancée. Winnie had taken Brock’s death really hard and had gone to live at her parents’ farm in Highwood immediately following the funeral. Cassidy stayed in touch with her via Facebook and knew that Winnie hoped to return to Coffee Creek eventually. Apparently she’d developed some health issues that weren’t serious, but required some time to settle.
In the meantime her café was being operated by Winnie’s best friend—and Cassidy’s new sister-in-law—Laurel. Laurel Sheridan had flown in from New York for Brock and Winnie’s wedding and had ended up extending her stay to take care of Winnie’s café while her friend was convalescing. She’d also fallen in love with Corb and the two had been married last September in New York City.
Then in March they’d had a baby—adorable little Stephanie Olive Lambert was another reason Cassidy was stopping at the Cinnamon Stick. Hopefully Laurel and the baby would be there.
She was dying for a cuddle with her new little niece.
Cassidy parked, hopped out of her truck, then paused to stretch her back and her arms. One thing about older trucks—they sure weren’t built for comfort. Still, she patted the hood affectionately before heading toward the café.
A hand-painted sign hung over the door, and two wooden benches promised a place to sit in the sun and enjoy your coffee once you’d placed your order.
Inside she was welcomed by the scent of freshly ground coffee beans and the luscious aromas of butter, sugar and cinnamon. She’d come during a lull and the place was quiet. Two older women sat at one of the two booths, engrossed in conversation. Behind the counter, Laurel was softly singing a silly song about hedgehogs. She had her back to the door, busy with dishes, but she spotted Cassidy’s reflection in a carefully positioned mirror and broke into a big smile.
“Cassidy! You’re home!” Laurel stopped to scoop up her two-month-old daughter from the playpen. “Look who’s here, Steph. It’s your auntie Cassidy.”
Cassidy was already holding out her arms for the bundle. “I hope she isn’t making shy yet.”
“Oh, she’s still too young for that. Besides, she’s getting used to new faces. We just got back to work last week and I swear our business has tripled. It seems everyone in the area is finding an excuse to drop in for a coffee and to say hello to the newest Lambert.”
Cassidy listened to all of this with a smile, at the same time noticing how happy her sister-in-law appeared. Pretty, too. Her long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but it seemed thicker and glossier than ever. And her fair skin was literally glowing.
Laurel deposited a kiss on Cassidy’s cheek as she handed over her daughter, who had gained several pounds since Cassidy had seen her last.
“Oh, you’re so cute! Look—she has Corb’s dimple.”
“I know. Isn’t it adorable? And only on the left cheek, just like her dad.”
Cassidy sighed as Stephanie cuddled in, soaking up the smooches that her aunt couldn’t resist planting on her downy soft head. Her wispy hair was coming in orange. And curly.
“How are you doing, precious? Do you like working with your mommy in the café?”
The baby looked up at the sound of Cassidy’s voice, and Cassidy was amused to see that she had the Lambert green eyes, as well. Stephanie was staring at her intently, and only when she raised her little hand, awkwardly reaching up, did Cassidy realize she was entranced by the sunglasses that were still resting on her head.
“She’s just started noticing her hands a few weeks ago,” Laurel commented. “Sometimes she stares at them for minutes at a time. It’s so cute. But here I am, talking endlessly about my wonderful baby, again.” Laurel rolled her eyes. “What’s new with you? How were your final exams?”
“They went well, I think. I won’t have my marks for a few weeks.”
“Can I get you a coffee and a cinnamon bun for the road?”
Hearing the door open behind her, Cassidy moved out of the way so the newcomer could enter. “You read my mind, thanks.”
“Make that a double order, Winnie,” said a deep voice behind her. “And leave some space for cream in the coffee.”
Cassidy knew that voice. Slowly she turned, holding Stephanie like a shield between her and the tall, broad-shouldered man who’d just entered the café.
Sure enough, there stood Dan Farley. The local vet had some Native American blood, which accounted for his high cheekbones, jet-black hair and dark, almond-shaped eyes. Though he’d spoken to Winnie, it was Cassidy he was looking at, with cool dislike.
“Hey, Farley.” Darn her voice for coming out so soft and weak. She lifted her chin. “How are things?”
“Busy.”
He knew she’d been going to college in Bozeman, and must have noticed the suitcases and boxes in the back of her truck, but he didn’t ask about her studies or show any interest in whether or not she was moving back to Coffee Creek. Stepping past her as if she were nothing more than an inanimate obstacle, he made his way to the counter, where he pulled out his wallet.
Heck and darn, but the man had a way about him. Cassidy glanced at the two women at the back to see if they felt it, too. Sure enough they both had their eyes on Coffee Creek’s sexy vet. One of them pretended to fan her face with her hand. The other laughed and winked at Cassidy.
Cassidy didn’t wink back.
He wasn’t that good-looking.
She gave him another glance, seeing only his profile and long, muscular build.
Okay, maybe he was that good-looking.
Still, he probably hated her and she had only herself to blame.
Winnie set two coffees in to-go cups on the counter, then bagged them each one of the homemade cinnamon buns baked fresh every day by ex-bronc rider Vince Butterfield. A veteran of the rodeo circuit and a member of the Cowboy Hall of Fame, Vince had licked a lifelong dependence on alcohol and in his sixties had begun a new career as a baker. His mother’s old recipe for melt-in-your-mouth sticky buns, thickly topped with frosting, was his new claim to fame.
Five minutes ago, Cassidy had been craving one of them desperately. Now her stomach churned at the thought. What were the chances that she and Farley would happen into the café at the same time? Pretty darn slim. So slim, in fact, that she hadn’t run across him here once in the past four years.
Other than at the church last July, she hadn’t seen him anywhere else, either.
If he was called out to the ranch when she happened to be home, she always made herself scarce. She’d avoided him at the funeral. If his name came up in conversation with her brothers, she tried not to listen.
And now here he stood, just a few feet away. Making it very hard not to remember... But no. She would not think back to that night. She couldn’t bear it.
“So where are you off to now, Farley?” Laurel asked, her tone friendly. Everyone in the Coffee Creek area called the vet by his last name. Probably to avoid confusion with his father, also named Dan, whom he’d worked with before the elder Farley and his wife had retired to Arizona.
Farley glanced briefly at Cassidy again, before answering. “Coffee Creek Ranch.”
Though there were plenty of reasons why the vet might have been called out to her family’s ranch, Cassidy’s first thought was for Sky. At fourteen years of age, every day was a blessing. “What’s wrong?”
“Your mother’s young palomino is sick. Sounds serious.”
“Lucky Lucy? Oh, no.” She was glad Sky was okay, but this news was almost as bad. Her mother had bought the beautiful three-year-old palomino just this year and Cassidy loved her. Lucy had a wild heart but a gentle soul. Though she was her mother’s horse, Cassidy had felt a special connection with the mare from the first time she’d ridden her.
“Any idea what the problem is?”
“From the symptoms Jackson described, sounds like strangles.”
“Really?” In all of her twenty-five years they’d never had a case of strangles on the ranch. She didn’t even know that much about it, other than it was a highly contagious, serious infection of the nose and lymph nodes.
“I’ll have to examine the horse and run some tests to be sure.” He added a generous amount of cream to his coffee, fitted the cup with a lid, then grabbed one of the bagged cinnamon buns. “See you later, Laurel. And thanks.”
No word to Cassidy, whose ranch he was heading for. She might as well be an empty bar stool for all the attention he’d paid to her. Wordless herself, she watched as a half-dozen long strides took him out the door.
The café fell silent then, and Cassidy realized that Laurel was looking at her, eyebrows raised.
“What’s up with you and the vet?”
Cassidy shifted Stephanie to her other arm. She’d planned on staying for a while to visit, but the bad news about the ranch had her suddenly anxious to get moving again.
“Why do you ask?”
“Are you kidding? Sparks were flying here, and they weren’t the good kind. Farley isn’t the chattiest of people, but I’ve never seen him be downright rude before. And the way he all but ignored you? That was rude.”
Yes. It sure had been.
“I guess he figures he has his reasons.” Cassidy went around the counter to deliver Stephanie back to her playpen. She didn’t seem very happy about being set down until her mother wound up a musical mobile that had been affixed to the side of the playpen.
“How do you get any work done with such a cute distraction around?” Cassidy bent to give her niece one last kiss.
“It’s taken some adjusting, by me and the staff. Eugenia and Dawn have been great. And even Vince has taken a few turns at rocking Stephanie when she’s being fussy.”
“That I’d like to see.” Vince was the epitome of the tough, silent cowboy from another era.
“I know. Isn’t it amazing what babies bring out in a person?”
“It sure is.” Though Farley hadn’t seemed moved by the baby at all. Of course, if she hadn’t happened to be there, he probably would have been much friendlier to Laurel and her daughter. “Is there anything I can do to help you before I leave?”
“We’re fine,” Laurel assured her. “Eugenia’s shift is starting in about half an hour. That’ll give me a chance to take Stephanie upstairs, feed her and put her down for her nap. She’s a great sleeper, thank goodness. Gives me a couple free hours every afternoon.”
“Sounds like a good system.” Cassidy counted out money for her order, then picked up her drink and her pastry. Now that Farley was gone, her appetite was returning. “I’d better get going.”
“Wait one minute. You’re really not going to give me the scoop on you and Farley?”
“Nope.” Cassidy gave Laurel a warm hug. “I’ll be back to have a longer visit in a few days. Or I may drop in on you and Corb at the ranch one evening.”
“I’ll look forward to it. But be warned. Next time I see you, you better be ready to tell me what’s going on with you and the vet. He’s considered the most eligible bachelor in town, you know.”
Cassidy wasn’t surprised. The guy had presence. And those eyes...
“The single women of Coffee Creek needn’t worry,” she assured Laurel. “I’m not going to be any competition where Dan Farley is concerned.”
She was out the door before Laurel had time for a comeback. Not that it mattered. She was so not going to tell Laurel about the history between her and Farley. She’d never told anyone and she’d bet Farley hadn’t, either.
Chapter Two
Dan Farley settled his coffee cup into the holder of his truck, then wolfed down the cinnamon bun in two minutes flat. Sweet and spicy...just like Cassidy Lambert.
The little witch.
So she was back in town. Judging from all the baggage in her truck, she was done with school. Would she be staying in Coffee Creek? Or moving on? Corb had mentioned she was studying accounting and thinking of working in Billings, but that her mother had other plans.
He didn’t really care how it panned out. The little minx was trouble. And he intended to keep his distance.
For the longest time she’d been nothing but the cute younger sister of his best friends B.J., Corb and Brock. With no siblings of his own, he hadn’t really minded when she tried to tag along with them—but Brock was always looking for ways to get rid of her.
He said she talked too much. Which was true.
He complained that she tried to boss them around. Also true.
But she had redeeming characteristics, among them a soft, yet courageous heart. So many times she’d come to him and her brothers expecting them to help a baby chick that had fallen from its nest, a fawn struggling with a lame leg, a farm cat with distemper, eyes weeping from disease, matted fur over a scrawny body.
Brock and Corb would brush her off, but he’d always done what he could to save the animal.
And then Cassidy turned twenty-one and the person who needed saving was himself....
An incoming call prevented him from dredging up further unwanted memories. He pressed the button on his steering wheel to patch it through.
“Hello?”
“Farley?” It was Liz Moffat, his right-hand woman at the office. Besides being his receptionist, the thirty-three-year-old mother of four also did a pretty good job of running his private life, as well. “I just had a call from Maddie Turner.”
“I’m on my way to Coffee Creek Ranch right now.” The Lamberts’ place was only fifteen miles from Silver Creek Ranch. Maddie Turner and Olive Lambert were sisters, though they hadn’t spoken to one another in over thirty years.
“When you’re finished there, could you swing by Maddie’s place? One of her cows is having a difficult birth.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Oh, and Amber wants to know about tonight. If you think you’ll be able to make it in time for a movie.”
He wanted to say yes, but knew better. “Tell her probably not. I still have to check out the Harringtons’ lame cow.”
“Maybe things will go well at Maddie’s and you’ll be able to do both.” Liz had fixed him up with Amber and was lobbying hard for the relationship to work.
“Maybe.” But he doubted it. Maddie Turner didn’t have the head for business that her older sister did, and she’d been struggling financially for the past five years. She wouldn’t be asking for his help if the situation with her cow and unborn calf wasn’t dire.
But first he had the situation at the Lamberts’ to deal with. And maybe another chance to see Cassidy?
No. If she knew he was there, she’d avoid the barns, the way she usually did.
* * *
C ASSIDY WAS DRIVING about ten miles over the posted speed limit on the secondary road out of Coffee Creek. Plus, she was taking sips of her coffee. And nibbling on her cinnamon bun. So she couldn’t claim to be the injured party when she saw the flashing lights of a patrol car behind her five minutes after leaving town.
She pulled to the side of the road, turned off her music and waited.
Sun beat in warmly through the windshield and she could hear a meadowlark’s song drifting on the fragrant spring breeze that wafted through her open windows. Ahead of her the pavement curved and she tensed as she saw the flower wreath affixed to the simple white cross that marked the spot of the accident where Brock had died last July.
She’d been so busy thinking about Farley—and feeling unjustly hurt at his obvious disdain for her—that she’d almost passed right by the scene of Brock’s accident without noticing.
In her rearview mirror, she saw an officer step out of the patrol car. Her nervousness increased when she recognized Savannah Moody.
The last time she’d seen Savannah had been at Brock’s funeral. Savannah hadn’t stayed long, but she’d paid her respects. Now Cassidy took a deep breath as the sheriff stooped so she could look in the open window.
“Hey, Cassidy. On your way home from Bozie?” Savannah wore her long hair in a braid when she was on duty, but even without her thick chestnut hair framing her face, she was stunning. She’d been blessed with large, thickly lashed eyes and smooth olive skin that she’d inherited from her French Canadian mother.
“Yes. Just finished my exams yesterday.”
“I’m sure you’re anxious to get home, but slow down, okay? I’m not giving you a ticket this time. Just a friendly warning.”
Her gaze shifted up the road a bit, and Cassidy knew what she was thinking. Knew, too, that the warning shouldn’t have been necessary.
“You’re right. I’ll be a lot more careful in the future.” She studied the wreath again, noting that the flowers appeared fresh. “Is Maddie Turner still tending that?”
Maddie was her mother’s estranged sister. No one in the family knew the whole story behind the family feud, but they’d all grown up understanding that their mother would consider it a grand betrayal if they acknowledged their aunt by so much as a smile or a word of hello.
By the same token, none of them had understood why Maddie was being so diligent in tending Brock’s memorial tribute, until Corb took it upon himself to drive up to Silver Creek Ranch and ask her.
Apparently Brock had been in the habit of visiting their aunt every now and then and had even helped her out with some handyman work on occasion.
No one knew why he’d done this. But if any one of the Lambert kids was wont to break their parents’ rules, Brock was definitely the one.
“I guess so.” Savannah patted the side of her truck. “I’m not a fan of roadside memorials, myself. Anything that draws your eyes off the road is a potential hazard.”
“I’ll be careful,” Cassidy promised again.
“Good. Say hi to your mom for me, Cassidy. And welcome home.”
She was gone before Cassidy could tell her that this wasn’t a true homecoming. She was just going to stay a few weeks until she found out about the job she’d applied for in Billings. Her first interview had gone well. Now she was hoping for a second, soon to be followed by an offer of employment.
Josh had applied to the same accounting firm, and he felt they both stood a good chance of being hired since their marks leading up to finals had been the top of their class. Competition was tight, though, since the accounting firm was only looking for three new articling students, and at least five other members of their graduating class had applied, including the woman who’d been president of the business club.
Cassidy checked for traffic—and signs of wildlife—before pulling back onto the road. Savannah was long gone, having made a U-turn and driven off in the opposite direction. Meanwhile, Cassidy continued toward home, driving a sedate five miles per hour under the limit until she came to the fork in the road where she slowed down even further.
To the right lay Silver Creek Ranch, where Maddie still lived on the Turners’ homestead property.
The road to the left led to Coffee Creek Ranch, which had been in the Lambert family just as long as the Turners had owned theirs. Cassidy’s father had passed away years ago, and ever since then her mother, Olive, had been running the ranch—with the help of her youngest sons and Jackson. Her mother had a good head for business, and despite some ups and downs in the cattle business, she’d done very well.
One of her strategies to combat the uncertain economic times had been to diversify into breeding American quarter horses. Now the horse breeding side of their business was bringing in as much revenue as the cattle. And even more profit, according to Jackson, who was in charge of the books.
Now that she had her business degree, Cassidy suspected her mother was going to pressure her to take over the administrative side of the ranch from Jackson. She’d made it clear that she hoped Cassidy would move back home after graduation and join in the family ranching business.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Cassidy loved her mother, but it was the sort of love that did best when there were at least a hundred miles between them. And much as she loved the ranch, she thought a business career could be exciting, too. She could hardly wait to get started.
Cassidy’s tires rumbled as she drove over the cattle guard that was meant to keep Coffee Creek cattle from roaming beyond their property line. A hundred yards farther down the road, she came to the small wooden bridge that crossed over one of several unnamed creeks that ran through their property.
She drove up the final hill, then paused, looking down on the homestead that had been in her father’s side of the family since the mid-eighteen-hundreds. It was hard not to feel a sense of pride. From here she could see the white barns with their green roofs, stacks of rolled hay, sorting pens and chutes, and the neatly fenced paddocks and larger pastures. All the outbuildings had been constructed in the hollow of a wide valley, high enough that there would be no danger of flooding in the spring, but protected from the worst of the winds that came off the mountains.
The main house sat above the other buildings, backing onto a grove of pines and with a view out to Square Butte—a flat-topped mountain that dominated the skyline to the north.
Through a stand of ponderosa pines to her left, Cassidy could see glimmers of Cold Coffee Lake around which their father had built homes for all three of his sons.
Driving past the graveled turnoff to the lake and the cabins, Cassidy crossed through the main gate, with the wrought iron detailing of the double Cs that were the family brand. Her tires rumbled yet again on another cattle guard. And then she was home.
Four other vehicles were already parked in the yard. Her mother’s white SUV, Jackson’s black one, Corb’s Jeep and, of course, Farley’s charcoal-and-silver truck, with the Farley & Sons logo on the side.
Cassidy slid in next to her mother’s SUV, where she wouldn’t block any of the other vehicles. She cut off the ignition and waited to see if her arrival had been watched for.
Given the trouble Farley had described, she hadn’t been expecting a welcoming committee. Probably everyone was down at the barn with the sick horse. But there was one faithful soul waiting to greet her.
Sky, still trim and healthy-looking despite the gray flecks in her black coat, must have been sleeping on the front porch. She was sitting now, head cocked, waiting for the cue.
She’d been trained not to go near any vehicle if there were people inside. But the moment Cassidy stepped out, she came running as fast as her old hip joints would let her.
“Hey there, Sky! Oh, it’s so good to see you.” Cassidy crouched by her dog, wrapping her arms around her and burrowing her face in Sky’s sun-warmed coat.
Sky wriggled and grunted, panted and smiled, demonstrating in every way possible her extreme happiness at having Cassidy home again.
“Has Corb been taking good care of you? You sure look pretty.” Cassidy gave her dog a lot of pats and scratches, then sat up on her haunches to look around. The place was almost eerily quiet. Not even the housekeeper, placid, middle-aged Bonny, was here. Must be one of her days off.
They’d had many housekeepers over the years. Olive had exacting standards and most didn’t last more than six months or so. But Bonny was made of stern stuff and had been here almost four years now. Cassidy was glad. Besides having loads of common sense—that helped her deal with Olive—she was also an excellent cook.
Cassidy patted Sky again, wondering why her dog wasn’t up at Corb and Laurel’s cabin. When Cassidy had left for college five years ago, she’d been living in residence and unable to bring her dog with her. Poor, lonely Sky had turned to Brock for companionship, then after his death, to Corb.
Now she lived almost full-time with Corb, Laurel and Stephanie...and yet somehow she’d known to wait at the main house today. Possibly Sky had heard Cassidy’s name spoken more often than usual and had guessed she was coming home?
Cassidy didn’t put it past her. Sky was a remarkable dog. When she was younger, she’d been as useful as an extra hand at moving and herding cattle. Now she was too old to work, but she was as smart as ever.
Finally, Cassidy stood, brushing the fine gravel from her knees. She could go into the house and wait for the rest of them to join her. But she’d seen Farley at the café and the world hadn’t fallen apart. Besides, she was anxious to find out if Lucy was going to be okay.
She gave the signal for Sky to follow. “Come on, girl. Let’s head down to the barn and find out what’s going on.”
* * *
W HEN HER MOTHER decided to go into the quarter horse breeding business, they’d built a new equine barn equipped to accommodate twenty to twenty-five broodmares with a separate wing for the stallions. The family’s riding horses were pastured and boarded in a smaller, less high-tech barn, closer to the house. This barn—they called it the home barn—had also been updated at that time, including the addition of a new tack room and office, both of which Jackson had designed.
It was to the home barn that Cassidy headed now, Sky heeling obediently on her left. She was glad she didn’t need to waste any time changing. Even when going to school in the city, she’d continued to dress the way she always had: in jeans and cowboy boots. She’d grown up in Western wear, and that was how she felt most comfortable.
In fact, her main concern about going to work for an accounting firm in the city was adjusting to the suits and high-heeled pumps she knew she’d be expected to wear. She’d bought such an outfit for job interviews and so far every time she’d worn it, she’d ended up with blisters on her heels.
Voices became audible as she drew nearer to the barn. The main door was open and her mother, Corb and Jackson were watching while Farley examined the golden palomino in the first stall. Cassidy stopped in the doorway, as yet unnoticed, waiting to see what would happen.
Her mother looked trim in jeans and a pressed gingham shirt. No doubt hard work and a healthy diet had helped preserve her petite figure, but her silver-blond hair, styled in an attractive bob, was the result of regular monthly trips to the salon.
She had her hands on her slender hips as she watched over Lucky Lucy’s examination, offering Farley pointers as he worked, which were no doubt exasperating to the experienced vet.
“Be careful,” Olive said. “You don’t want to hurt her.”
No response from Farley.
“See how she’s holding her head?” Olive continued. “Low and extended? That’s not usual for her.”
Farley, who would not have needed to have this pointed out, replied calmly, “She’s probably doing that to relieve the pain in her throat and lymph nodes.”
Of the four of them, he was the only one Cassidy couldn’t see clearly because he was in the stall with the horse. Just the sound of his voice, however, made her feel nervous and excited, the same odd cocktail of emotions she’d experienced earlier in the café.
“You seen any other cases of strangles lately?” Corb asked. Her brother’s shoulders were hunched with worry, as were Jackson’s. Both men had their backs to her, until Sky came up between them.
“Hey there, girl.” Corb bent to pat the border collie’s head. “What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be on the porch, enjoying your retirement.”
With that, blond, green-eyed Corb looked back toward the house, and a smile slowly broke through his serious expression.
“Look who’s home. How’re you doing, Cass?”
Of all her family, Corb was Cassidy’s favorite. He was easygoing, like their father had been, with a warm smile and eyes that sparkled with good humor. With his blond hair and green eyes, he was also the brother that looked most like her. If they’d been closer in age, people probably would have taken them for twins.
He gave her a one-armed hug, pulling her up between him and Jackson.
Her foster brother had dark, brooding good looks, and a natural reserve that made him difficult to really know. But the smile he gave her now was kind and friendly. “Hey, Cassidy, good to see you.”
“You, too, Jackson.” She felt her throat tighten. “Hi, Mom.”
“Sweetheart.” Olive swooped in and gave Cassidy a hug and a kiss. “How were your exams?” Then, Olive continued without waiting for an answer, “I was saddling Lucky Lucy for a ride this morning when I spotted some nasal discharge. I don’t blame Jackson for not noticing sooner, even though the horses are now his responsibility.”
“Jackson has a lot on his hands these days besides overseeing the care of the home horses,” Corb said mildly, countering his mother’s implied criticism. “Spring is the busiest time of year for all of us and he’s had four new foals birthed this week alone. Plus he’s busy with the mare breeding program for the quarter horses.”
Cassidy admired the way Corb managed to stand up to their mother without getting upset. All her brothers—except maybe B.J.—were better at that skill than she was.
Every time she came home, she did so with the resolve that this time would be different. She wouldn’t let her mother get to her. She wouldn’t lose her cool. But neither would she let her mother derail her. She had her own plans for her own life. And that was that.
“My exams went well, Mom, but I’m sorry about Lucky Lucy. Is it strangles for sure?” She moved in closer and Farley, who’d been collecting a sample of mucus, now sealed the cotton swab into a vial.
Then he straightened. For the second time that day he took her measure.
“I’m pretty sure. She’s got some swelling around the jaw area, as well as a fever and clear nasal discharge.”
Cassidy shifted her gaze from the vet to the horse. Lucy was gorgeous, and as recently as her last visit home for Stephanie’s baby shower, had been very healthy. She patted Lucy’s flank, then moved in closer.
“Remember me, sweet thing?” she murmured. “We had a great ride together last February. ’Course there was some snow we had to contend with back then.”
As if in answer, Lucy coughed, and more discharge gathered in her nasal cavity. Cassidy glanced at Farley, hoping for reassurance. “How bad is it? Is she suffering?”
“Feel here.” Farley took her hand and guided it to a swollen area on Lucy’s neck. “Her lymph nodes are pretty enlarged. I’m sure it’s causing her pain or she wouldn’t be distending her neck like this.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Cassidy gentled her with soft strokes, trying to erase the feeling of Farley’s strong, capable hands over hers. Lucy nickered, voicing her appreciation of the extra attention.
“I’ll run a test just to be sure,” Farley said. “But for now we’d better assume that she does have strangles.”
“Crap.” Jackson sounded disgusted. “We’ll have to disinfect everything, won’t we?”
“Afraid so.” Farley kept a hand on Lucky Lucy as he walked around her, then out to the aisle. “Good thing you keep your riding horses separate from the breeders. Hopefully the quarter horses will be fine. But I’d recommend no sales or purchases until the strangles is under control.”
Olive made an impatient sound. “Is that really necessary? You said yourself, we have the two operations completely separate.”
“Just to be sure, I think it is. You’ll have to set up a quarantine area here in the barn. Watch the other horses carefully. Any of them show signs of the disease, then they’ll need to be separated, too.”
Jackson rubbed his unshaven chin. “This is going to mean a lot of extra work. Frankly me and my men are stretched to our limits right now...and Corb and his wranglers are, too.”
“Jackson’s right about that,” Corb was quick to agree. “Most of the calves have been born, but we’ve got branding and vaccinating...and soon we’ll need to be moving the herd to higher ground.”
Suddenly it seemed like everyone was looking at Cassidy. Heck and darn. “You know I’m only home for a couple of weeks, right?”
Olive frowned at that, but Corb wasn’t deterred.
“A couple of weeks could see us through the worst of this. If we’re lucky.” He turned to Farley. “What’s involved, exactly?”
Farley shook his head. “Strangles is incredibly contagious. It can be passed on through indirect contact with buckets, feed, grass, fences and especially water troughs.”
“I don’t see why our quarter horses should be under quarantine then,” Olive said sharply. “We feed, water and pasture them entirely separately from the riding horses.”
“The infection can also be transmitted by flies,” Jackson replied calmly. “Still, I have to wonder how Lucy caught this. I haven’t heard of any other cases in the area.”
“Have you brought any new horses onto the property lately?” Farley placed the vial for testing into his black case, then went to the sink at the corner of the barn and washed his hands.
Jackson shook his head no, then glanced at Olive. “Didn’t I see you load Lucy in the trailer last week?”
“That wasn’t Lucy,” Olive said shortly. “I did buy some secondhand tack at auction on the weekend.”
“That could be your culprit. I hate to say it, but your whole tack room should be disinfected. You’re going to need to stock up on chlorhexidine soap.”
“We have some,” Corb said, pointing to a gallon by the sink.
“You’re going to need more. But I have a few gallons in my truck I can give you for now.” He turned to Cassidy. “If you’re in charge of containing this infection, we should sit down somewhere and talk.” He looked as excited as if he’d just sentenced himself to an hour in a dentist’s chair.
Cassidy felt the same way herself. After a semester of studies, she’d hoped to spend most of her break on the back of a horse—not cooped up in a barn with a bucket and a rag.
“You two might as well talk in the office.” Olive waved to the door next to the tack room. “I’ll bring out some coffee and sandwiches. I know Corb and Jackson will be happy to get back to work.”
“Over the moon with excitement,” Corb teased. He gave Cassidy a tap on the shoulder. “We’ll catch up later, okay? Come by tonight and say hi to Laurel and Stephanie?”
“I did drop in at the café for a visit on my way through town, but I’ll still take you up on that offer.”
“Better disinfect your arms and hands, if you’ve had any contact with Lucy,” Farley warned as the two men and Olive left the barn. “And your boots.”
“I’ll set up a boot dip right now.” Cassidy found a plastic tub in the tack room and mixed up a disinfecting solution. She set the tub by the door so that anyone leaving the barn would be able to disinfect their boots on their way out.
Corb, Jackson and her mother all made use of the new boot dip then headed off to their respective chores.
And then it was just the two of them in a barn that was suddenly, uncomfortably silent.
For a second Cassidy considered trying to clear the air between them. But how could she possibly do that? What she’d done had been inexcusable, even if she’d only been twenty-one at the time.
Instead, she headed for the office, trusting Farley to follow, which he did, along with Sky.
The border collie settled at her feet when she sat in the oak chair behind the desk. Farley took the upholstered chair opposite, dwarfing the thing with his tall, muscular frame.
It took a lot of physical strength to be a large-animal vet, and no one could doubt that Farley had that. But it was more than his size that she found intimidating right now. When Farley looked you in the eyes, you could tell he wasn’t one to compromise.
Or make allowances.
Cassidy found paper and a pen for taking notes, then waited for her instructions. As the silence stretched on, she forced herself to meet the vet’s gaze.
“What can I do to help Lucy?”
“Hot compresses on her swollen glands. The abscesses will probably rupture on their own in about a week, but if they don’t, I’ll need to lance them.”
Cassidy made a note. Hot compresses. “Anything else?”
“It’s important that she keep eating and drinking to maintain her strength. You can try feeding her gruel—that might go down easier than her usual hay mixture. But the majority of your effort should go into keeping the infection contained.”
She nodded, well aware of the risks.
“As well as keeping Lucy quarantined from the other horses you’ll need to clean and disinfect her water buckets and feed containers daily. Bedding should be burned, walls and fences scrubbed down.” His gaze fell to her hands, which were smooth and pale after so many months of study. “You up for all of that?”
“Guess I’ll have to be.”
“There’s more. Any contaminated pasture areas should be rested for at least four weeks.”
“You want those scrubbed down, too?”
One corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “Fortunately for you, ultraviolet light from the sun has natural antibacterial qualities.”
“Yeah. I’m feeling really lucky right now. As is Lucy, I’m sure.”
Once more Farley seemed to struggle not to smile. And seeing that, she felt an ache for the easy friendship that they’d once shared.
Though friendship wasn’t quite the right word. She’d had a crush on him dating back to the days when he and her brothers would hang out together. As a young girl, she’d followed them around the ranch until Brock ran out of patience and came up with some devious plan to get rid of her.
“Remember the time you, Corb and Brock lured me up the hayloft in the old cattle barn, then pulled down the ladder and stranded me up there?”
Farley blinked. She’d disarmed him by bringing up a story from so long ago, before the trouble between them.
“I do. How did you get down, by the way?”
“One of the hired hands heard me yelling and came to the rescue.”
“You were quite the tomboy back then. But I guess it’s going to be accounting offices and city life for you now, huh?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He shrugged. “I’m not the only one who’s surprised.”
This was true. Corb, B.J. and her mother had all tried to talk her out of studying business when she’d first told them about her plans to go to college. She didn’t know if they didn’t think she was smart enough, or what, but they certainly hadn’t been supportive.
“Yoo-hoo,” her mother’s voice rang out. A few seconds later she breezed in the door with a tray. “I don’t mean to interrupt, just wanted to bring you some lunch.”
She’d brought out a carafe of coffee with mugs and a plate of sandwiches. After setting the tray on the middle of the desk between them, she stood back and looked from Cassidy to Farley with a smile of satisfaction.
“Actually,” Farley said, “we were just finishing up here.”
“Don’t be in such a rush. You have to eat, don’t you? Take your time. I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do.”
And with that, Olive left, making a point of closing the door behind her.
Olive didn’t often make herself scarce, so Cassidy couldn’t help but be suspicious. Was it possible her mother was hoping she and Farley...?
No. It couldn’t be.
She risked a quick look at the vet’s expression, trying to judge if he’d felt any weird vibes from her mother, too.
“Olive seems to be in a good mood for a rancher who has just had her livestock quarantined,” he commented, reaching for one of the ham-and-cheese triangles.
“Yeah. She’s up to something.” She felt the hot color rising on her neck.
“Matchmaking?” Farley suggested.
“Kind of looks that way, doesn’t it?”
“A little,” he admitted. The light in his eyes grew darker, colder. “Guess you forgot to tell her that I’m the last man on earth you’d ever want to be with.”
Chapter Three
It wasn’t true. Farley wasn’t the last man on earth she’d want to be with. But she had told him he was. One minute before leaving the dance she’d gone to as his date—on the arm of another man.
At least, she’d tried to leave with another guy. Oddly enough, she couldn’t remember the name of that other guy anymore. But she did recall that she’d been the one to ask him to dance. With Farley on the sidelines, silent and angry, they’d danced an entire set together before she’d convinced the other guy that he wanted to drive her home.
They’d left the dance floor arm in arm. But Farley, in a voice that was not open to negotiation, had stepped in at that point. “You came to the dance with me. I’m damn well seeing you home safely.”
The other guy had stepped aside hastily then, no doubt having assessed Farley’s size and the girth of his biceps, and decided he liked the current shape of his nose just fine, thank you very much.
Cassidy had endured a fifteen-minute drive in Farley’s truck during which time not a single word was spoken. When they’d pulled up to the ranch house, he’d been out of the truck so fast that he had her door open before she’d even located the lever to do it herself. With his arms crossed over his broad chest, he’d stood watching until she was safely inside her home. Only then had he driven away.
And he’d pretty much never spoken to her since then.
Did she blame him? No.
Was she embarrassed for the way she’d acted? Hell, yes.
The truth was, she never should have accepted his invitation to the dance in the first place. But he’d caught her off guard in the Lonesome Spur Bar on the night of her twenty-first birthday. She’d been out having her first legal drink with a group of friends when he caught her eye and crossed the room.
She’d been ridiculously excited. Farley was older, hot and sooo handsome. And suddenly he had noticed her, too.
“Is it true?” he’d asked her, dark eyes smoldering with an emotion she’d never seen in them before. “Pretty Cassidy Lambert is no longer jailbait?”
“I stopped being jailbait a long time ago,” she’d announced with a voice full of sass and vinegar. That didn’t mean she wasn’t quaking inside. She’d assumed Farley was completely out of her league. But now he was finally seeing her as someone other than his friends’ annoying little sister.
He’d asked her to the Harvest Dance being held in the community hall the next evening. She’d accepted. And then all it had taken was one dance in his arms and she’d panicked.
Simple as that.
“Is it too late for me to apologize for my behavior that night? I was just a kid.”
“No.” Farley placed a hand on the desk. “If you’d still been a kid, I wouldn’t have gone near you.”
“I suppose that’s true. But I was young.”
“It wasn’t the classiest move I’ve ever seen, Cass. But it was honest. You always were one for knowing what you wanted.” He paused, then added pointedly, “And what you didn’t.”
She stared at him mutely. How could he talk as if he knew her so well, when she, herself, had never quite figured out why she’d acted the way she had that night? She hadn’t been then, and wasn’t now, a man-crazy sort of woman who liked to go on lots of dates and play one guy off another.
“I should get going. I’ve got another call to make before I head back to my office. You’re clear on how to handle the strangles?”
She nodded, not bothering to point out that he’d only eaten one of her mother’s sandwiches. She guessed that her company wasn’t conducive to a good appetite on his part. She’d been so wrong to think that talking about that night would clear the air between them or ease her guilty conscience.
If anything, she felt worse.
It wasn’t the classiest move I’ve ever seen, Cass.
God, she felt about four inches high right now.
Clumsily she got to her feet, almost knocking over her mug of coffee as she moved out from behind the desk.
Farley’s eyes stayed cool. “I can see myself out.”
“I know.” She followed him, anyway. “But I just wanted to ask you about something else.”
“What is it?”
“You said I should watch the rest of the horses in case they get sick, too. But what, exactly, should I be looking for?”
“Glad you asked that.” Farley opened the office door, waited for her to pass through, then exited himself. “Don’t wait until you see nasal discharge or hear the horse coughing. If any of your horses go off their feed, or seem to lack their usual energy, separate them from the rest of the herd immediately and give me a call.”
“Okay.” They both washed up at the sink again and used the boot dip before leaving the barn.
Midafternoon sun had Cassidy wishing she had the sunglasses she’d left behind in her truck. Squinting, she glanced at Farley, who was setting a quick pace toward his own vehicle.
“How long will we be under quarantine?”
Farley tossed his black case into the passenger side of the truck. He paused a moment to consider her question. “If you’re diligent with disinfecting, if Lucy recovers quickly and if none of the other horses come down with it, I’d say about three weeks.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yeah, but better to contain this thing now before it spreads and becomes a bigger problem.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or were you not planning to stay in Coffee Creek that long?”
“That depends on whether I get a job offer or not.”
“You excited about spending your life as a pencil pusher in a city high-rise?”
“Why not?” she countered, placing her hands on her hips and narrowing her gaze. “You think swabbing mucus from a sick horse’s nostril is so much better?”
“Actually, I do.” He reached for his hat, settling it on his head, before giving her a final, parting nod. “But I wouldn’t expect you to understand why. Though the little girl who grew up on this ranch would get it.”
* * *
“T AKE A LOOK at these paint chips, sweetie,” Olive said. “Which one do you like better with these fabric samples for your new duvet cover?”
Cassidy had just hauled her suitcase into her old bedroom, halting when she saw her mother sitting amid piles of fabric swatches and paint chips spread over the blue-and-white quilt she’d had as long as she could remember.
The handmade quilt was an heirloom from her grandmother Lambert. Cassidy had always loved it, though admittedly the fabric was now threadbare on the edges.
“What’s this about, Mother?” She was tired after the long drive and the stressful encounter with Farley. Bad enough that they had strangles on the ranch and that she was in charge of containing it. If only her mother could have called some other vet rather than Farley.
“We haven’t decorated your room since you were a little girl. Don’t you think it’s time to spruce it up a little? I thought we’d paint and order new curtains and bedding. That desk in the corner is too small for you now. What do you say about replacing it with an armoire? A beautiful antique would look lovely in that corner. I saw one in Lewistown the other day that would be perfect.”
Since the bed was unavailable, Cassidy hoisted her heavy suitcase up on the desk that her mother had just pointed out. “What’s the point in fixing up the room when I’m only here for a few weeks?”
“That’s if you get the job,” Olive reminded her. “It’s always good to have a backup plan and you know you always have a home and a job here with us.”
“Mom, I’ve told you that isn’t what I want to do with my life. If I don’t end up getting this job, I’ll apply for another.”
“So you really mean to follow in B.J.’s footsteps, do you?” Her mother did nothing to hide her disappointment.
B.J. had been traveling the rodeo circuit for almost as long as Cassidy could remember. He’d left home at eighteen and though he made the occasional pit stop at home, he never stayed long.
“I’m not planning to start competing in rodeos, Mom.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. This land has been in our family for five generations. Your father and I planned things so we have room enough and work enough for all of you.”
Then why didn’t Dad build me one of those cottages he had made for the boys?
Cassidy didn’t voice the question, even though it was often on her mind. The truth was, she’d never wanted to live so close to her mother. Nevertheless, it did rankle that she’d never even been offered what had been so freely given to her brothers.
“Mom, you just finished helping me get five years of higher education. Surely you must want me to put it to good use.”
“You could take over the bookkeeping and taxes here at our ranch. Handle our dealings with the bank and manage our investments.”
And be under the thumb of her mother and brothers for the rest of her life? “Mom, I have to make my own way. Do my own thing.”
“You think you’ll be happy living in Billings for the rest of your life?”
“It’s not that far. I’ll visit. Like I did when I was going to school in Bozeman.”
Her mom pressed a hand to her forehead. “That is not the right plan for you. I promise you, Cassie, you’ll be making a big mistake if you walk away from your heritage.”
Stay calm. Stay firm. That was Cassidy’s new mantra and she was determined to stick to it. “It’s my life, Mom. And my decision.”
Olive sighed. She turned her gaze to the view out the window, then back to Cassidy. “Let’s drop it for now. I don’t want a big argument to spoil your first day home.”
Right. ’Cause it had been such a great day so far.
Cassidy took a deep breath and reminded herself that she’d vowed to try harder with her mother. “Why don’t we go to the kitchen, brew a pot of tea and talk about something else?”
“In a minute.” Olive picked up two paint squares. “I promised Abby at the hardware store I’d phone and place my order this afternoon. Which do you prefer? The sage-green or the buttercream?”
* * *
D AN F ARLEY DROVE away from Coffee Creek Ranch feeling disappointed, unsettled...frustrated. He wasn’t usually a man given to complicated emotions. What was it about Cassidy Lambert? After all these years she ought to be nothing to him.
But it didn’t help that she’d shown such concern for the sick horse. He’d always been a sucker for her soft heart.
And it helped even less that she still filled out her jeans in all the right places. Add in that beautiful blond hair and those disarming green eyes—hell, any man could be excused for losing his head over a girl like Cassidy.
But he didn’t want to do it twice.
To distract himself, he decided to check in with Liz.
“Just finished at the Lamberts’ and I’m on my way to Silver Creek.”
“That took a while.”
Liz was probably worried he wouldn’t make the date with Amber. Why did all women assume a man wasn’t happy unless he was suitably married?
“Yeah. I’ve put the place under quarantine. We’ll have to run the tests, but I’m pretty sure about the result.”
“Bad luck for them,” Liz allowed. “Good luck at Silver Creek. Hopefully things will go better there.”
* * *
M ADDIE T URNER WAS waiting for him when he arrived, a stocky woman with wiry gray hair and plain features—quite the contrast to her fine-featured, well-coiffed sister, Olive. The two border collies flanking her were younger versions of Cassidy’s dog, Sky. The dogs looked anxious, just like their owner.
Maddie was wearing faded overalls and a threadbare shirt—both smeared with blood. Her face was damp and she appeared exhausted. He knew from experience that helping a cow with a difficult delivery was hard, physical labor.
“You okay?”
“Been better. Thanks for getting here so fast,” she said, as he grabbed his gear out of the truck, then slipped on a pair of overalls.
“I was next door at Coffee Creek.”
She didn’t blink an eye at the mention of her sister’s place. “Lucky you were so close. I don’t think we have much time.”
She led the way to the barn, where he could hear the sounds of distress from the mother-to-be. They found the poor thing on the stall floor, with terror in her wide brown eyes.
She looked on the small side. Young. “This her first calf?”
Maddie nodded.
A quick exam confirmed that the calf was positioned backward and upside down. A C-section was their only hope. “Anyone else around?” he asked hopefully.
“Nope.”
“No hired help?”
She avoided eye contact. “I’ve had to cut back lately.”
“Too bad. We could use an extra set of hands here.” Or two, or four. He started setting out his equipment, going through the steps in his head. Since he didn’t have an assistant, he needed to have everything at the ready before he prepped the cow for the incision.
“I can secure her head,” Maddie offered.
He wasn’t so sure about that. Maddie looked pretty exhausted. “How long has she been in labor?”
“I brought her in from the field a few days ago. Just had a feeling she was going to have some trouble. Sure enough when I came out this morning I could see that her labor had started, but wasn’t going anywhere.”
He sighed. “Okay. We better not lose any more time.”
“I agree.” Maddie moved behind the prone cow, sinking to the straw bedding and then locking the animal’s head to prevent her from moving around. The exhausted heifer didn’t even resist.
“Poor thing,” Maddie said softly. “Don’t you worry. Doc Farley is going to get this critter out of you.”
The tender caring in Maddie Turner’s voice and the firm yet gentle way she handled the animal reminded Farley of her niece, Cassidy, trying to comfort Lucky Lucy earlier.
He shelved the thought, returning his focus to the job at hand. Maddie couldn’t afford to lose the calf or the cow. More than money was at stake here, though, and Farley was determined not to fail.
* * *
A N HOUR AND a half later, the new mother and her matching black calf were resting in the barn, and Farley and Maddie were in the kitchen having coffee. Farley was tired, but pleased. Helping to bring new life into the world was one of the most rewarding aspects of his job.
He ought to be on the road, heading to the next ranch. But he sensed Maddie wasn’t ready to be alone, so he’d agreed to stop in for a bit. Now Maddie placed a plate with crackers and cheese on the table.
“Sorry I don’t have anything more substantial to offer. You must be starving. I know I am.” She opened the upper freezer compartment of her fridge. “I could fry up some sausage and eggs if you have twenty minutes to spare.”
He thought about the lame cow and the forty-five minutes it would take to drive to the Harringtons’ spread. Then he thought about Amber and the movie she’d been hoping to see. That was out of the question now. But hopefully he could still manage a late dinner. “I really don’t.”
“Didn’t think so.” Maddie closed the fridge door, then sank into a chair and reached for her coffee. Her dogs were in the room with them. Farley thought he had them straight now. Trix was sleeping on the mat by the back door and Honey was curled up under the table. As well as the dogs, there was a cat prowling the place, too. Short-haired and ginger-colored, she’d slunk into the room earlier, taken Farley’s measure, then exited with nose held high.
Maddie’s kitchen was a warm, cozy place. The wooden table and chairs had the sort of “distressed” look that came from decades of being used and not coddled, as did the wooden floors and cabinets. The counters were cluttered, but clean, and the big farm sink gleamed as if it had been disinfected recently.
The focal point of the room was the antique, black, wood-burning cookstove. Warm air drifted from the stove to soothe the sore muscles of Farley’s shoulders and upper back. He fought the urge to close his eyes, knowing that if he succumbed to sleep he might find himself still in this room an hour later.
He crunched down on a couple of crackers and a slab of the cheddar, then followed the food with a swallow of hot, almost scalding, coffee. Maddie made it the old-fashioned way, boiled in a percolator on the stove.
“So what’s up at Coffee Creek?” Maddie asked him.
He hesitated before answering. Everyone in the community of Coffee Creek was aware of the rift between the Turner sisters, though no one knew the exact cause. Some people felt that Olive’s marriage to neighboring rancher Bobby Lambert had been the start of it. One fact was irrefutable: Maddie hadn’t attended their wedding. And despite the size of the wedding—apparently several hundred—the absence had been very conspicuous.
“One of their horses has strangles,” he finally said.
“Sorry to hear that.” Maddie sounded genuinely concerned.
“Hopefully it hasn’t had time to spread. They have the sick horse quarantined and Cassidy is going to be disinfecting the barn.”
“Cassidy? So she’s home from college, is she?”
Maddie seemed to know a lot about her sister’s family. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Since she’d never married herself or had children, the Lamberts were her closest relations. Which only made the feud between the sisters that much sadder.
“Only for a few weeks, apparently. She’s hoping to get a job with some accounting firm in Billings.”
“Really? I can’t imagine Olive letting her do that.”
“I’m not sure Olive has much say in the matter.”
Maddie’s lips tightened. “Then you don’t know my sister very well.”
“She hasn’t been able to keep B.J. from the rodeo circuit,” he pointed out.
“All the more reason she’s going to fight like hell to keep her daughter close to home.”
“You think? Cassidy’s no pushover.” Tenacity was in her DNA. And growing up with all those brothers had only made her tougher and more resilient.
“You don’t know Olive,” Maddie repeated.
“Not as well as you do, obviously,” he allowed. “But my money’s still on Cassidy.”
Chapter Four
Cassidy took the time to have tea with her mother, then changed into rubber boots and gloves and headed back to the barn. She had her faults, but avoiding hard work wasn’t one of them.
After diluting the disinfectant that Farley had left with her, she started with the horse troughs and feeding buckets. Once those had been thoroughly washed and rinsed, she went to check on Lucy.
Oh, how she hated to see the sweet mare in obvious discomfort. Lucy had a fierce spirit, but she was also gentle and trusting with her rider. Olive had purchased her from one of the best trainers in Montana and it showed. Cassidy had known she’d spent a pretty penny on her, too, when Olive demurred from sharing the purchase price with them.
Privately, Cassidy thought Lucy’s potential was being wasted as a working horse on a cattle ranch. She had lovely footing. Cassidy bet she’d make a great barrel-racing horse. And she was so pretty, she’d be a real crowd favorite.
In high school Cassidy had dabbled in the sport, coached by her brothers and encouraged by her mom. But in her final school year she’d decided she needed to focus on her grades and she’d given up competing.
She hadn’t run a course since.
“Hey, Lucy. Think you’d like being the center of attention in a rodeo ring?”
The worst waste of all, of course, would be if Lucy didn’t recover from the strangles. Cassidy took some comfort from the fact that Farley hadn’t seemed overly worried.
Cassidy went to the tack room to heat some compresses, then returned to Lucy’s stall.
“I have something here that should help you feel better.”
Lucy nickered and shuffled restlessly. Her nostrils were oozing pus again and she looked as miserable as a horse could look without actually collapsing to the ground.
Cassidy pressed the heated pads against the mare’s swollen lymph nodes. “How does that feel?” She’d wash down the stalls next, then mix up some warm mash for Lucy. She had fencing to clean and the tack room, too, but that might have to wait for tomorrow because she needed to examine the rest of the riding horses before nightfall and make sure none of them were exhibiting signs of the sickness.
Three hours later, Cassidy finally made it back to the ranch house, where she showered and had dinner with her mother. Olive was hurrying the meal because she had a meeting in town at seven.
“I’m sorry to rush out on your first night home. But if I don’t go they’ll just make a bunch of silly decisions that I’ll have to fix the next meeting.”
The committee was working to build a historical site at the intersection of Highway 81 and Main Street, kitty-corner to the Crossroads Gas and Snack. A life-sized bronze of a quarter horse had been donated to the town and the idea was to have a walking loop around the statue with wooden signposts detailing the history of the area.
Olive had been shepherding the project from the start and had contributed a significant chunk of cash to the fundraising efforts.
“That’s fine, Mom. I’ll run over and visit Corb and the gang.”
“I hate to leave you with the dishes...”
“Not a problem. Have fun at your meeting.”
Her mom grabbed her leather coat from the closet at the side door, then slipped on her best pair of go-to-meeting boots. “If you think fun is even a possibility, then you haven’t met Straws Monahan.”
Cassidy chuckled at that, knowing that even the strong-minded Straws whose property was on the other side of Coffee Creek, closer to Lewistown, would be no match for her mother.
Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen was spotless and Cassidy slipped outside to walk to her brother’s. Sky followed at her side for the quarter of a mile to Cold Coffee Lake Road. Trees—a mixture of aspen and ponderosa pine—separated each of the brothers’ cabins, giving them some privacy from one another.
Jackson lived in the cabin closest to the main house. Originally built for B.J., when it had become clear that he was going to be on the road most of the time, Olive had reluctantly given permission for Jackson to take up residence.
The other cabin had been Brock’s. It was vacant now, and Cassidy had no idea what would become of it. She’d heard Corb suggest that Olive offer it to Winnie, but that idea had gone over like a lead balloon.
Olive and Winnie had been like oil and water from the start. Cassidy knew, since her mother had confided in her, that Olive had hoped Brock would marry someone else. And that she felt Winnie fell short of the mark as far as being the wife of a cattleman.
Cassidy hadn’t bothered arguing.
Nothing she said had ever changed her mother’s opinion on anything, anyway.
Cassidy helped Sky up the stairs to Corb and Laurel’s front door. Exhausted from the walk, Sky seemed happy to curl up on a plump cushion on the plank floor of the porch that was obviously a favorite sleeping spot.
Since the door had been left open a crack, Cassidy gave it a nudge. “Hello?”
“Come on in!” It was Laurel who answered. “We were hoping you’d drop by.”
Cassidy left her boots in the foyer and found Laurel in the kitchen, where the counters were littered with stacked dishes and pots and pans.
Laurel didn’t seem perturbed by the mess. She was at the sink, her hands in soapy water. “Hey, Cassidy, some homecoming. I hear you spent the day disinfecting in the barn. But I bet that wasn’t as bad as this mess.” She wrinkled her nose at the stove behind her.
Cassidy came round the counter to give her sister-in-law a hug. Once more she thought how smart Corb had been to marry this woman. Laurel’s easygoing nature and sense of humor were a good match for him.
“Yeah, it’s been a chaotic day.” Cassidy glanced at the stove, which was splattered with baked-on tomato sauce and something that looked like egg yolk. “You, too?”
“Every day’s chaotic when you have a new baby. After two months you’d think I’d have things figured out and be on some sort of schedule, but you’d be wrong.”
Cassidy laughed. Already she felt more relaxed than she’d been all day. “Where’s the rest of the family?”
“Corb’s giving Stephanie her bath upstairs. They’ll be down in a sec.” She glanced at her own T-shirt, which had some stains matching those on the stove. “I could use a bath myself. Not to mention some clean clothes. Sorry to be such a slob.”
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C.J. Carmichael
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Going Home Shouldn′t Be This Hard…Cassidy Lambert traded in Montana′s big sky country for the big city lights—forever. Until a potentially devastating equine illness threatens her family′s ranch, and Cassidy is needed at home to help. She thinks she knows what she wants from life, but the more she′s around sexy veterinarian Dan Farley, the more confused she gets.When Cassidy comes back to the open western landscape Dan loves, she′s nothing but a beautiful burr under his saddle. She stomped on his heart once before, and he′s not eager for another go-around. But he just can′t keep himself away from those green eyes and sweet curves. It′s a good thing she′ll soon be gone again. Because he can′t trust her–or himself–when she′s around!