The Wrangler. Lindsay McKenna

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ She was in the kitchen making cookies when the harsh sound echoed down the hall.

      “Hold your horses!” she yelled, wiping off her hands and grabbing her cane. Who could it be? Val and Griff had left an hour ago to get supplies in town.

      Hobbling down the hall, she saw a tall, broad-shouldered man standing at the door. Lifting her upper lip into a snarl, Gus quickly recognized him. She shoved the screen door open, making him leap back.

      “What the hell you doin’ here?”

      Curt doffed his cowboy hat in deference to the small woman glaring up at him. “Why, Miss Gus, I thought I’d drop by and say hello.” Downing held up a sack. “I brought us some lattes. I thought we might sit out here on your porch and chat a spell?” Curt saw the silver-haired woman sneer at him. Oh, he knew Gus was a red-hot pistol. She spoke her mind and didn’t care at all about diplomacy. He added a hopeful smile and gave her a pleading look. “Please?”

      Snorting softly, Gus let the screen door slam shut behind her. “You listen to me, you young whippersnapper, I’m not interested in sellin’ the Bar H! That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

      Curt ambled over to the small table near the swing at the end of the enclosed porch. “Why, Miss Gus, you misunderstand my intentions,” he said in a soothing voice. Setting the sack down, Curt opened it up and placed two Starbucks coffee cups on the table. “I was at the Horse Emporium just now and I saw your truck. Griff McPherson was driving it.” He walked over and offered one to Gus. “I was surprised. I wanted to make sure that he hadn’t stolen it from you.” Curt congratulated himself on planting seeds in her mind that McPherson was not to be trusted.

      “Get that crappy coffee outta my face!” She raised her cane and threatened to strike the cup out of Downing’s hand. “I like real coffee! Not that citified stuff!”

      “Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss Gus.” Curt feigned a hurt look. He quickly placed the cups back into the sack. “Might you invite me in for a real cup of coffee, then?” He added a warm smile along with a coaxing look he hoped would melt her anger.

      Gus scowled. “I’d rather invite a pissed-off rattler in to dine with me, Downing.”

      He looked up and placed his hand over his heart. “Miss Gus, you hurt me to the quick.”

      “You can’t hurt a rock.”

      Downing had always respected her spunk. Prodding Gus was like prodding a bull elk in heat: you knew he would get angry and charge. “Now, Miss Gus, I came out here with concern for you. That was your flatbed I saw at the Horse Emporium?”

      “Of course it was! And what business is that of yours? You aren’t Gwen Garner! I don’t mind speaking to her, but you, I don’t trust any further than I could throw you.”

      Curt smiled inwardly. The old woman’s face was pinched, angry, and she looked like she was going to have a heart attack any moment. Not that he would mind. Then he could scoop up her ranch. “Miss Gus, I saw a lovely young red-haired woman with McPherson,” he said, playing dumb. “She was in the truck with him. Who is that?”

      Gus grinned savagely. “That, Downing, is my granddaughter, Val Hunter.”

      Downing pretended to be as shocked as he was at the Emporium earlier. “What? I thought she was in the Air Force? Is she on leave to visit you?”

      “No, you fool, she’s home for good!” Gus pointed to her hip. “And it’s not gone past your nose to know I can’t handle this ranch by myself any longer because of my broken hip. Everyone in town knows it never healed right. Val has come home to help get the ranch back up to an operational level.”

      “I see….” Downing choked and nervously coughed. His mind spun with shock. He’d been expecting Gus to put up the For Sale sign any minute precisely because she was now crippled and no longer able to work. This was a definite setback. “But…what about McPherson? Yesterday, he worked at the Horse Emporium.”

      Giving him an irritated look, Gus barked, “Well, he’s now our wrangler. With Val and Mr. McPherson’s help, the Bar H is going to be just fine. How about that, Mr. Big Shot?” Gus waved her cane in his face. “I know your type. You’re like a snake that slinks through the bushes just waiting for the right moment to lunge out and bite someone on the ankle. But you ain’t gettin’ our ranch. So don’t even think you can!”

      Standing there, Curt felt like the world had fallen out from beneath him. Damn! He desperately needed this ranch! Of course, he couldn’t tell the angry old woman why. Even if he could, it’d only raise her hackles more. “I’m so glad to hear you got help once more, Miss Gus,” he murmured in a placating tone, trying to ratchet down her anger toward him. Walking over to the table, Curt picked up the sack. Turning, he said, “I really hope that your granddaughter can stay.”

      “Oh, she’ll stay. This is her home!” Gus said, jabbing her finger down at the porch. “You know ranch families stick together. And I know you’re wantin’ to buy up any ranch land you can get your filthy hands on. Well, it won’t be our ranch. Git goin’, Mister. I have cookies to bake and I don’t like talkin’ to the likes of you!”

      Moving down the porch steps, Downing turned, doffed his hat again and said, “I wish you a good day, Miss Gus. I’m here for you in case you need any help. The Bar H has a wonderful history and I know with your granddaughter home, things will get better. Good day.”

      Gus snorted, breathing raggedly as she watched the bastard climb into his big gussied-up truck. The damned pickup held so much chrome it glittered like a Christmas ornament. But that was Downing. She’d watched him grow into a bully through the twelve grades of school. His father, Red, had been a bully, too. An abusive drunk always causing havoc for people in the valley. There were times when she’d hear that Curt had a black eye at school. And a small part of her felt sorry for the younger Downing. Well, minus the drunkard part, the kid had grown up to be just like his daddy.

      Gus watched the truck pull out of the driveway. And then she saw that Val and Griff had returned. The two trucks passed one another on the road into the ranch. She watched Griff drive the truck around to the barn. Hobbling off the porch, Gus went to greet them.

      Val climbed out of the truck as Gus approached. “Was that Curt Downing we just passed?”

      “Sure as hell was.” Gus looked up at the bales of hay tied down on the flatbed.

      “What did he want?”

      Griff came around the truck to hear the conversation. Gus was clearly upset, her eyes narrow along with her pursed lips. He saw Val was concerned because she tugged at her ponytail. It was a habit he’d seen before and finally recognized it for what it was.

      Gus told them what had transpired. She patted Val’s arm. “Now, get that worry wiped off your face. He’s gone and out of our lives.”

      Griff pushed his hat up on his head. “Downing was surprised that we’re here?”

      Cackling, Gus said, “Oh, it looked for a moment like he was going to fall through the porch. He was that surprised!”

      Griff grinned a little. Gus got pure pleasure out of meeting Downing head-on. He liked her backbone. She might be small but that didn’t stop her from taking on the likes of Downing. Most of the town was afraid of him, but Gus was not. “Are you okay?”

      “Ohhh,” СКАЧАТЬ