Last Chance Cowboy. Leigh Riker

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      “This fence was deliberately cut,” Grey said, but he was having a hard time keeping his mind on that fact or even that Cody had let him down. He kept hearing Shadow’s words. He’d had a kid, a child he’d never known about until now. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around that. Couldn’t believe she’d gone to Doc instead of him. Whatever decision she’d made, their baby was his business, not Doc’s.

      Logan ran a hand over the nape of his neck. “Deliberate, all right. Same as mine was. Not the usual teardown by some cow determined to get free.”

      “You missing any cattle? I mean, bison?”

      Years ago Logan’s grandfather Sam had switched from raising beef, although Grey still wondered why. The bison could be mean critters, more aggressive than the Angus breeding bulls Grey ran, any day. If he needed proof, all he had to do was look at Logan’s grandfather, who’d been tossed weeks ago by one of his bison and badly broken his leg. His cast was off but he still had a limp.

      “I’ll have to ask Willy or Tobias,” Logan said, referring to two of his cowboys. His already deep-blue eyes had darkened. “I’ve been too busy with the wedding plans to count bison cows or ride fence. Darned if I don’t miss that.”

      Grey wanted to smile but couldn’t. The constant chore was nobody’s favorite, and to help his injured grandfather, Logan, who was by profession a test pilot, had become a temporary cowboy again—until he and Blossom fell in love and the ranch gained new appeal for him. Which only made Grey think of Shadow. “You don’t look unhappy. The break from flying jets must agree with you.”

      “Yeah, but I’ll have to make some real decisions soon. I’ve got applications in with other aircraft manufacturers in Wichita, but there’s not a lot of demand right now.”

      With his gloved hands, Grey retwisted some wires together, enough to keep his cows in until he could fix the fence himself.

      “You’d quit?” he asked. “I thought you were just taking a short leave.”

      “We’ll see. The ranch will always be home to Blossom and me, at least in part, depending on what I decide to do about flying for a living. Sam still needs help here.”

      Grey glanced at him. He and Logan had grown up together, although Logan was two years older and Grey had always seen him as an older brother—the way he looked after Cody now. “It’d be great if you could stay, Logan.” He shook his head again. “I know I’ll never leave this place.” Not willingly, anyway. His stomach twisted at the thought of the loan Barney had denied him.

      Logan frowned. “Why would you leave? Running Wilson Cattle is all you ever wanted to do, Grey. This ranch has been in your family even longer than the Circle H has been in mine.”

      His gut tightened. Grey’s great-great-something-grandfather had bought this acreage right after the Civil War when land was cheap. As Logan knew, too, the old man was buried in the family plot just over the hill with the generations that had come after him. Grey had always wanted children who would inherit Wilson Cattle from him, but now... He had to steady his voice before he spoke.

      “Yep. Wilson Cattle is in my blood, in my bones.”

      Logan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Talk about old times. Remember when you and I—and my brother—scared ourselves crazy every Halloween in the graveyard? And rode all over both ranches, yelling like banshees, playing we were grown-up cowboys like your dad and Sam? Spooking the cattle? Pretending we were on some everlasting roundup?”

      “Until we had to surrender our horses. Grounded,” Grey said. “We gave my dad and your grandfather more gray hairs...” Clearing his throat, he squinted into the far distance, listening for the reassuring sounds from the Black Angus herd that would tell him everything was fine. He knew each shuffle of hooves, each calf’s bleat or cow’s bellow, though unlike Sam Hunter he didn’t name the animals.

      “Yeah,” Logan said, “but I regret that I spent more time off the Circle H than on for too many years. Now, because of Blossom, that’s finally changed. At least for now.”

      Grey envied them. Shadow’s earlier words spun through his brain again like a McCormick reaper in a ripe hayfield. Years ago, he’d thought they were headed for the altar, like Logan and Blossom were now—until their last fight. Then Jared had died and Grey got blamed for it, at least in the court of public opinion. And sometimes within himself. All of which had prevented any reconciliation between him and Shadow. Logan had obviously picked up on his mood. Which of Doc’s options had she taken? He hadn’t let Shadow tell him what they were, or what she’d done.

      “What’s wrong, Grey? Except for this barbed wire.”

      “Plenty,” he admitted, “but I’ll get through it.”

      Logan dragged a hand through his dark hair. “Whatever you say stops here.”

      “I know, but...”

      “If there’s anything I can do—”

      “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

      Logan punched his upper arm. “Someday that pride of yours is going to get you in real trouble.”

      Grey rubbed his biceps, as if Logan had actually hurt him. “I imagine it will.” It already had, in town with Shadow today. He’d left her office shocked and mad at her for keeping their child from him all these years, afraid he’d say things he’d regret later.

      He and Logan stood for a moment in silent companionship, two guys who were never comfortable expressing their deepest feelings. He guessed many men weren’t, but with cowboys that went double. His pride definitely wouldn’t let him tell his best friend about the bombshell Shadow had dropped on him. Not yet. He needed time to think, to decide how to react.

      Logan scratched at a bug bite on his forearm. “The first truly warm weather—after all the rain—and the mosquitoes are already out.”

      “Whenever the wind’s not blowing.” The prairie breeze could be fierce, especially in spring, and in June it was still hanging on. When Grey’s ancestors had settled here, the wind’s relentless nature had driven some people mad. He was glad there was no wind today.

      He surveyed his land once more. Wilson Cattle sat closer to the main road than Logan’s adjoining Circle H did, and on what passed in the state for higher ground. It didn’t have the Hunters’ long driveway and was also near the crossroads—easy picking for modern-day mischief-makers? Someone with a pair of wire cutters might think opening a hole here and there was great fun. With proms and graduation coming up, this was high season for teenage pranksters.

      He tipped his hat back, then resettled it, scanning the ranch to the horizon. Whatever happened next, he was not going to lose Wilson Cattle—which had become a real possibility.

      What to do about Shadow was another matter.

      * * *

      BLOSSOM KENNEDY WAS the kind of person with whom Shadow had felt instantly comfortable as soon as they met. This was a first for her. She didn’t let many people into her inner circle—she’d learned as a kid not to let others get close enough to see how she’d lived then—but she and Blossom had hit it off right away.

      Shadow had no sooner watched Grey walk out of her office than Blossom had СКАЧАТЬ