To Court A Cowgirl. Jeannie Watt

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      After the kitchen was back in order, she grabbed her purse and went out to her car. She was going to see Kyle—and not because she felt guilty not doing it.

      As she drove to the hospital, she told herself that this was a good thing to do. A way to prove to herself that she was done with that chapter of her life. Because she really had to move on past this bitterness. It was going on two years and she still felt anger toward the man—both for the promises he hadn’t kept and for the crappy things he’d done after the divorce.

      Kyle, as it turned out, looked terrible. Two black eyes, a swollen lip, but no stitches that she could see. His other injuries, whatever they might be—bruised and broken ribs and sprains, according to Ray—were hidden by the sheet covering him.

      Allie took a few steps into the room, hating the smell, hating the circumstances that had her there. Hating that she’d come. And what did she say now that he’d focused on her? “How’re you feeling?” wasn’t appropriate.

      “I’m glad you’re okay. I mean, other than...” She gestured weakly.

      “Yeah.” He spoke softly, his words slightly slurred.

      Allie moved forward, but still kept her distance from the bed. She wished him no harm, but he had been so adversarial toward her and her sisters after he’d failed to get part of the Lightning Creek, that she was also having a hard time feeling anything other than regret that he’d been hurt. Seeing him like this did not stir any feelings of warmth or desire for a reunion. Was that why he’d wanted to see her? To rekindle something?

      If so, injured or not, he was in for a rude awakening. Allie wasn’t about to complicate her life now that she was on the road to straightening it out.

      “I just wanted to stop by, let you know I was thinking about you.”

      “Appreciate that.”

      And then there wasn’t a whole lot to say. “Well, I don’t want to wear you out. I wish you a speedy recovery.”

      “Allie?”

      “Yes?”

      “I’m going to have trouble covering my part of the medical bills because I’m between jobs.”

      Allie’s heart dropped. He’d wanted to see her to shake her down?

      “I’m sorry to hear that, Kyle.” She made a backward step toward the door. “I’m sure you know that I don’t have any money with all of my student loans. Maybe your dad could help you out.”

      “Yeah. Uh, he’s not in a position to do that.”

      And she was? Honest to Pete.

      “Sorry. I’m sure the hospital will take payments.”

      “I’ll need therapy afterward.”

      Allie’s patience was about to snap. “What do you want, Kyle?”

      “It’s what I don’t want. I don’t want to file medical bankruptcy.” His gaze held hers and she searched, trying to find a hint of the guy she’d fallen in love with. Had time changed him so much? Or had she fallen in love with an illusion?

      “And...”

      “Would you co-sign a loan for me?”

      “I’m up to my neck in student loans!”

      “If you used that eighty-acre parcel on the far side of the creek as collateral... Not that you’d need collateral. I have some savings to use to make payments until I land a job.”

      “Oooh, no...” Allie shook her head. “Uh-uh. I’m not attaching the ranch to a loan.” She’d taken great pains not to do that while funding her education.

      “Only part of—”

      “No.” At any minute she expected Kyle’s heart-rate monitor to top out. If she’d been attached to a monitor, it would already be there. “I’m sorry about your predicament.” But it was not her predicament, no matter how guilty she felt saying no. “The ranch belongs to all of us. I couldn’t make a decision like that alone if I wanted to.”

      “Will you talk to your sisters?”

      “I have to go, Kyle.”

      Allie turned and left the room, walking to her car in a haze of anger. She hated not helping people, but Kyle was asking too much.

      Yet, she still felt jabbing guilt beneath her anger. Why? What was wrong with her? She’d spent five years of her life supporting this guy, believing in him, and she’d been let down every single time. Wasn’t that enough?

      * * *

      AFTER ALLIE HAD driven away, Jason finished dismantling the roof and then took a break before starting on the main structure, which was going to take some time. A couple weeks, maybe, working by hand. He was glad. As Max got healthier, he got more cantankerous and controlling, reminding Jason of a little kid pushing boundaries.

      He sat on the tailgate of his truck, drinking from his water bottle and studying the barn wreckage, debating where to start. He honestly did need a hard hat for this part of the job. Part of the structure was still intact and several beams were attached to the top of a standing wall, although their opposite ends rested on the ground. Potential for trouble there. He had no idea how well the upper ends of the beams were attached, or what it would take to bring the standing wall down. He’d find out soon enough.

      After stowing his water bottle back in the cooler, he approached his project. In the rubble, he could see old hand tools and gardening implements that had been stored in the building. A beat-up saddle lay in the jumble between two wooden barrels, one of which was now smashed. Dismantling this part of the building was going to feel like a treasure hunt. He wondered how much of the stuff was useful and how much had been stored instead of being thrown away. That was how a lot of valuable antiques had survived until present day, but none of the stuff he could see looked particularly valuable...except for the old bit-and-brace drill sitting just under a fallen beam. He loved bit-and-brace drills—had spent a lot of time as a kid drilling holes in boards his grandfather had given him to keep him busy. Rather than wait the day or two until he’d got to that area by knocking things down, he carefully started picking his way across fallen boards.

      Oh, yeah. He bent and picked up the drill. He’d never worked in the construction trade, but his dad collected old tools and he knew a good one when he saw it. The knob at the top was black walnut if he wasn’t mistaken. He started back toward safety, the drill in one hand. He’d ask Allie if she wanted to sell it and he’d also let her know that it was worth something before she made the decision.

      He was just about to step off the two-by-six he’d been using as a balance beam onto a sturdier-looking fallen beam when he heard an ominous crack. Before he could save himself, the board snapped and his leg plunged down into the jumble of debris, shoving up his pant leg as his shin skidded down the rough surface of a broken board. Shit.

      He grimaced as he pulled his leg out of the hole. It stung. Gingerly he made his way to his truck, trying to remember the last time he’d skinned himself up good. When he was a kid on his bike СКАЧАТЬ