No Getting Over A Cowboy

“Garrett?” he finally heard his mother say. “You’ve had three calls on your office phone. All from women. I don’t think they’re calling about business, either. Now that you’re divorced, I think they want to get in your pants.”

Garrett groaned. That was the last thing he wanted to talk to his mother about.

“It’s not right,” his mother went on. “Those women just want to use you.”

Yes, and if his mind ever got back to a good place, he just might let those women get in his pants until he could work his way through a jumbo box of condoms.

“And speaking of the divorce, Meredith called, too, when she couldn’t reach you on your cell phone,” his mother continued before he could speak. “She said she needed to see you about something. Wouldn’t say what exactly. Needless to say, I don’t approve. I don’t think it’s right for your ex-wife to want to get into your pants.”

He’d been wrong. This was the last thing he wanted to talk to his mother about.

Garrett finally managed to get a word in edgewise. “Mom, I’m calling about Loretta Cunningham. I’m out at Z.T.’s house now, and she’s here.”

“Loretta’s there?” She sounded overjoyed about that. And static-y. Since the static was only getting worse, he stopped walking, hoping that would help with the signal. “She used to watch you kids for me when I needed a break. She’s the one who gave me that homemade ointment that cleared up the rash on your tushy.”

He would have groaned again if it’d do any good. “Please focus, Mom. Did you tell Loretta she could stay at Z.T.’s place?”

“No, of course not.”

Instant relief. He could be the asshole after all and demand that the women leave. He could even pay them for the cleaning they’d done. Then, he could get that work crew in to deal with the pond and fence.

“Any idea why Loretta thought you’d told her she could stay here?” Garrett pressed.

But the line went dead. While it would have been nice to hear what his mother had to say about that, it wasn’t necessary.

“Garrett Granger?” someone said. It was a woman, and she stepped out from the last bedroom at the end of the hall.

Because of the shot lights, Garrett couldn’t see her that well, but she started walking toward him. “Yeah. And you are?”

“Nicky Marlow.”

Ah, finally. “There’s been a misunderstanding.” On your part, Garrett wanted to add. “My mother didn’t give Loretta permission to stay here.”

“No,” she calmly agreed, and she took something from the canvas bag she had in her hand. It was still hard to see, but it looked like some papers. “But she gave me permission. Actually, she gave me a one-year lease.”

Shit. His stomach landed near his kneecaps. No. This couldn’t be true.

She came closer, thrusting that paper at him. The lease, no doubt. The one that his mother better not have signed. Garrett snatched it from her and had a look for himself.

His stomach flopped down to the dusty floor. Because that was indeed a lease, indeed his mother’s signature.

He looked up to tell the woman that one way or another, the lease had to be broken. But the argument died on his lips when he looked at her face. That’s because this wasn’t Mrs. Marlow. This was Nicky Henderson.

The cute blonde flute player Garrett had deflowered seventeen years ago. And then dumped.

Not exactly good memories.

Apparently not for her, either. Judging from the way Nicky’s mouth tightened, this was one woman in Wrangler’s Creek who had absolutely no desire to get in his pants.

CHAPTER TWO

IT WASN’T EASY for her to stare down the man with whom she’d made her awkward sexual debut, but Nicky managed it. It helped that Garrett wasn’t exactly giving her the smoldering looks he had the night of said debut. In fact, once he got past the initial shock of seeing her, he started glaring.

All in all, he was a good glarer, too. Sharp, precise and with a smidge of I’m in charge here so get lost.

Nicky hadn’t seen him in seventeen years, not since they’d graduated from high school, but he hadn’t changed that much. By some measures anyway. He still had the thick dark brown hair that looked as if he’d just climbed out of bed after having sex. The same sizzling blue eyes that coordinated well with the smoldering looks. But there was something different about him, too. Something she knew a little too well.

Life had smacked Garrett Granger upside the head with a proverbial two-by-four. She recognized the world weariness, the impatience. The slight F-you attitude.

“My mother was wrong to give you that lease,” he growled. Speaking had to be hard with his jaw muscles that tight.

“She signed it,” Nicky pointed out, and she took the lease from him because he looked ready to vaporize it with his glare. She had other copies, but she didn’t want to have to go back to San Antonio to get them. That would mean a forty-five-minute drive.

He cursed. Stopped. And Nicky thought maybe he’d remembered that he was the “nice” Granger brother, but she followed his gaze over her shoulder where she spotted her daughter, Kaylee, who was coming out of the bedroom that Nicky had just been cleaning.

“Gar-if,” Kaylee greeted. She went to Garrett as if they were best buds and took his hand. “See my room.”

“How do you know my daughter?” Nicky asked at the same moment, Garrett said, “This is your daughter?”

Nicky nodded. Garrett gave her another dose of stink eye that he thankfully didn’t aim at Kaylee. Because if he had, Nicky would have let her own F-you attitude kick in, and she would have shown him the door. It didn’t matter that he was a Granger because he wasn’t her landlord. His mother, Belle, was.

“I met Kaylee outside earlier,” Garrett snarled. “She was poking a stick in a cow pie.”

Nicky groaned, immediately tugged Kaylee away from Garrett and checked her daughter’s hands. There was no visible poop, but she’d need the hand sanitizer. She should buy stock in the company as often as she had to use it.

“I thought Mrs. Ellery and her sisters were watching her,” Nicky explained.

Later, she would need to give Kaylee a lecture about cow pies and staying closer to her since the Ellery sisters apparently weren’t the stellar babysitters they claimed to be. Ironic since they were named for various goddesses of protection: Aradia, Diana and Hera.

Kaylee led Garrett back to the room. “It’s pink,” her daughter declared.

It wasn’t. Well, except for one dust-coated doll in a pink dress sitting on top of the chest of drawers. Everything else was gray, drab and probably festering with mold and things Nicky didn’t want to identify. She’d need the full year of the lease just to get the place clean.

Garrett looked around, managed a semi nod and equally semi smile for Kaylee. “You can’t stay here,” he added to Nicky.

Nicky made a show of running her hand like a magician’s assistant over the lease. “This says differently, and I should know because I drew up this lease myself. Since I’m a lawyer, I can promise you that it’s all in order.”

That seemed to distract him or something, and he gave her a funny look. “You’re a lawyer? You said you were going to be a doctor.”

Nicky gave him a funny look right back because she was surprised he had remembered that. “My plans changed. I learned the hard way that I tend to vomit at the sight of blood, guts and bones.” Not a very professional reaction, and her instructors agreed. “I see you’ve become what you’ve always said you’d be—a rancher. But you’re also a business owner. Granger Western.”

Or Cowboy Mart as most folks called it since it sold Western supplies in bulk and at a discount.

Nicky guessed that the business was making the Granger clan even richer than they already were. Especially now that they’d worked through the kinks of a recent setback and investigation.

“My sister, Sophie, runs the business,” he provided.

She listened for any hint of his disapproval about that. There wasn’t any. Interesting because she’d read an article about a codicil to his father’s will that had ousted Garrett and turned the reins of Granger Western over to Sophie. Things like that could tear a family apart, but it appeared there’d been no tearing involved in their case.

Apparently his idea of “small talk” was over because Garrett took the lease back from her and pointed to the bottom line. “My mother doesn’t have permission to sign this. The ranch belongs to my brother.”

“Roman.” She nodded. “Yes, he owns the ranch, but he doesn’t own this house. I researched it, and according to your great-grandfather’s will, he left the house itself to his wife who then left it to your grandfather. He left it to your father, and since your father didn’t stipulate in his will who was to inherit the house, ownership passed to your mother.”

The look he gave her could have flash melted sand, and it had no sexual components to it whatsoever. Not that she’d expected anything sexual from Garrett. After all, he’d rid her of her virginity and promptly dumped her. Still, it was impossible for him to be completely nonsexual since he was still physically hot.

“I’ll have my lawyers look into the will, too,” Garrett added, “because I can’t believe my father didn’t spell that out.”

Neither could she, especially since his father had apparently spelled out everything else. It was possible he’d simply not cared enough about the place to bother with it. In fact, judging from the state of disrepair, none of the current Grangers had cared much about it.

Unlike her.

Just like that, the bad stuff came. Memories that Nicky wished would die the death they deserved. But at the end of that memory tunnel was this place.

This house.

She’d escaped to this place too many times to count.

That was something the Grangers didn’t know. But she’d used it to recoup and in some cases to heal, mentally and physically. No way, though, did she want to share all of that with Garrett. It was one of her many secrets, but if she was labeling them, that was secret number one.

Apparently, Garrett had no plans to share anything else with her, either. He took out his phone, no doubt to call his lawyers, but he mumbled something she didn’t catch when he saw that he had no cell reception.

“Why would you care if we’re here or not?” Nicky asked. “Other than the current dead bug population, the place has been empty for decades.”

“I care because tomorrow there’ll be workers here to expand the pond. I care because I plan to use every inch of this pasture for cattle. And I care because this is Granger land.” He’d gotten a little louder with each word, and by the time he made it to the last one, he wasn’t shouting exactly, but it was close.

“Well, I care, too,” Nicky argued. “And our being here won’t interfere with your workers or the pasture.”

She hoped. Though the place would be a beehive of activity. Temporarily, since she didn’t need any literal or metaphorical beehives in her life. Neither did the other women.

“Dolly-baby,” Kaylee pointed out, leading him farther into the room. “And boogs.”

She meant bugs. And, yes, there were some dead ones on the floor. Yet something else that needed to be cleaned. Nicky had decided to start with the highest points in the room and work her way down.

“Aydee.” That was Kaylee’s attempt at lady, and she pointed to the painting over the bed. Nicky had no idea who the woman was, but she was coated with dust, too.

Garrett glanced at the other things Kaylee was showing him—the bed, the lamp, the cobweb Nicky had missed when she’d cleaned the window. Even the trunk of old clothes that Kaylee had discovered. Then he snapped back toward Nicky.

“Who are those women downstairs and in the yard, and why are you here?” he demanded.

“Widows. We’re all widows.”

His gaze drifted to Kaylee.

“Well, with the exception of her,” Nicky clarified. “No child-bride arrangements in Texas. And you know Loretta Cunningham. She said she used to change your diaper.”

His nostrils flared a bit, and they flared even more when she glanced at the front of his jeans. An unintentional glance, but Loretta wasn’t the only woman in the house who’d seen that part of Garrett’s anatomy.

“As I’ve already told you, the other women are the Ellery sisters,” Nicky went on. “Drowning. All three husbands went when their fishing boat capsized.” Mentioning the cause of the widowhood was something that she and the others had gotten accustomed to doing when they made introductions to new members in the support group. “Then, there’s Mrs. Batson. Heart attack. But you might not have seen her. She’ll probably be skittish around you.”

A term that described every woman currently in the house but Loretta and her. Perhaps because she and Loretta were the only ones who’d seen Garrett without his underpants.

“Lady Romero is taking a walk,” she added. “But she’ll be back soon to help clean. Ginger Carson, respiratory failure, is in town getting some supplies.”

His jaw tightened even more. “Why? Are? You? All? Here?”

Apparently, he was getting impatient for more answers, but he probably wasn’t going to like anything she had to say.

“Because we’re all in a support group for widows and divorcées, and we thought it would be a good idea for us to have an actual retreat for those who need it.”

Retreat was such a tidy little word, but Nicky thought Garrett might not like to hear that it could turn into a place where women could fall apart. Women like her. A place where no one would be around to see them if they went bat-shit crazy.

No one except for Garrett, that is.

“Widows?” he repeated. That seemed to be a prompt for her to provide more. More as in personal stuff, but Nicky had no intention of getting into that with him. Not in front of Kaylee. Maybe not ever.

“Most of us are young widows,” Nicky emphasized. “With the exception of Loretta, we lost our spouses or significant others while in our twenties, thirties and forties. The women need this house,” she added, hoping it would help. It obviously didn’t. Since Kaylee was volleying glances between them and hanging on every word, Nicky tried to make those words sound as pleasant as possible. “Some have rented out or sold their homes to come here. They’ve quit their jobs. They’ve rearranged their whole lives so they could have this experience and take the time to heal.”

Of course, not all would be able to come here and do that. Those widows with school-age children hadn’t been able to take off that kind of time. Others simply hadn’t been able to come because it would have meant a loss of income that they couldn’t afford. Nicky had been able to help some with that by covering all the expenses of the house itself, but it still wasn’t enough to allow some of the widows to be here.

“This isn’t a healing place. It’s a pasture on a working ranch.” Garrett didn’t follow suit in the pleasant department. “I’m sorry, but you can’t stay.” It sounded like some kind of monarch’s decree, and he headed out of the room and into the hall. Since Kaylee followed him, so did Nicky. “My lawyers will be in touch with you about negating the lease.”

Nicky caught up with Garrett and stepped in front of him. “You’d really throw out a group of widows and a three-year old? How will that make you look? It’ll tarnish that ‘good guy’ image of yours.”

She perhaps should have held off on mentioning the image thing. But then again, he probably wouldn’t have been pleased with anything she told him right now. Like about the furniture that was being delivered any minute. And the movers she’d hired to put some of the existing furniture and knickknacks into storage rooms. Or the painters or repairmen.

Nicky definitely wouldn’t mention the cocktail/ice breaker party she was throwing and that his mother would be attending.

“You’ll never even notice we’re out here,” Nicky added.

“Trust me, I’ve already noticed. No way can you have people living here with all the work going on,” he said. “And as for my image, it’s already tarnished.”

A polite woman would have pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about. But she did know.

Man, did she.

And it was best not to mention the firsthand knowledge she had of that situation. That was her secret number two. Besides, she still had an argument to win with Garrett.

“Your work crew won’t be coming into the actual yard,” she went on. “So, there’s really no problem—”

“They’re tearing down the fence and replacing it with a new one. There won’t be much of a yard left when they’re finished. In fact, it’ll be more like a barrier to keep the cattle from getting in and trampling Z.T.’s grave.”

Since the grave was practically at the back porch steps, it was possible for the newly designed backyard to extend less than six feet from the house. That definitely wouldn’t give them much outside space.

“What would it hurt to keep the yard area as is?” Nicky asked. “I mean, you’re getting by with the pasture you have now—”

“I’m bringing in more cows, and I need every inch of this land. It’s taken me months to work out the deals to get the land surrounding the ranch, and the expansion of the pond is the next step.”

Clearly, she was getting nowhere. “I’ll talk to your mother about this.” She headed for the stairs so she could find a spot where she had phone reception. “I’m sure we can work out a solution.”

Nicky wasn’t sure of that at all, but Belle Granger had to be more reasonable than her son.

“Mrs. Marlow?” Loretta called out. “Uh, I think you should come down here.”

“In a minute,” Nicky answered. She finally got some reception bars about halfway down the stairs so she stopped to make the call. Kaylee, however, bolted down the stairs, heading in the direction of Loretta’s voice.

“It doesn’t matter what my mother says,” Garrett went on. He huffed and took out his phone again, too. “I’ll look for a place for all of you in town. There are several shops that have gone out of business, and you can maybe use one of those buildings.”

She didn’t want a shop in town. Nicky wanted the privacy and quiet that she thought she’d get at the Granger Ranch. She’d healed here before, and she could do it again.

“Mrs. Marlow?” Loretta, again. “You really, really, really need to get down here right now.”

Nicky froze for a moment. One really would have alarmed her, but the trifecta of reallys meant something was wrong. Maybe it was nothing more than a spider or a repair that needed to be done.

Garrett stayed on the stairs to make his call, but Nicky didn’t press in his mother’s number. Instead, she hurried to the kitchen. She immediately got confirmation that this was more than a spider issue or a repair. Loretta was even paler than she usually was, something Nicky hadn’t believed possible. Kaylee obviously hadn’t thought this was anything worth waiting around for because she was already playing on the back porch.

“What’s wrong?” Nicky asked the woman.

Loretta shook her head and pointed to one of the rooms off the kitchen. Nicky hadn’t been in this one yet, and the door was shut.

“It’s in there,” Loretta said.

So, maybe a critter sighting and nothing major after all. Well, unless the critter was a grizzly bear. Pushing that uneasy thought aside, Nicky threw open the door. It was a small butler’s pantry with cabinets and countertops on both sides. Loretta’s flashlight was on the floor, and it was still on, blaring light around the narrow space.

In the center of the cabinet rows was yet another door. That one was open. And Nicky picked up the flashlight so she could aim it at whatever had spooked Loretta.

“Holy shit!” flew out of her mouth before Nicky could stop it.

“What is it?” Garrett asked. Until he spoke, she hadn’t even known that he’d walked up behind her, and Nicky nearly knocked him over when she ran back into the kitchen.

“There’s a skeleton in the closet,” she managed to say. “A real one,” she had to add when Garrett stared at her.

Nicky felt her stomach lurch. That was the only warning she got before she puked on the freshly mopped kitchen floor.

CHAPTER THREE

GARRETT NOW KNEW there was something worse than having a body buried in the yard. It was having a second body in a closet. Unlike Z.T.’s, Garrett figured this one wasn’t there by choice.

It was certainly something he hadn’t planned on encountering when he’d started his day. Ditto for the widows and the toddler. Just one of those things would have been bad enough, but the shit storm had provided three all at once.

Along with some sobs, tears and a few oh my Gods.

Garrett had to admit that he’d contributed to the oh my Gods. And he’d had some serious unsettling moments. That unsettling had eased up just a little though when he realized the dead body wasn’t exactly fresh. It was a skeleton, an old one from the looks of it, and he was wearing men’s clothes. Specifically, boxers with hearts on them and a straw hat. At least this wasn’t someone who’d died recently.

Garrett didn’t know anything about this man, but the sick feeling continued to roll through him. Not enough to vomit as Nicky had done, but close. A guy was dead. And it didn’t help that his last minutes on God’s green earth had been in this house on Granger land.

“Everybody stay back,” Chief Clay McKinnon called out.

The widows, minus Loretta and Nicky, were peering into the kitchen from the back door. Thankfully, Loretta had had the good sense to take Nicky and Kaylee upstairs so they wouldn’t have to be near the corpse.

Garrett stayed back, too, in the dining room. Far enough away from the puke smell but still close enough if Clay needed anything from him. Not that he probably would. Clay was not only his soon-to-be brother-in-law, he was also an experienced cop and knew what he was doing.

“I’ll get the medical examiner in here,” Clay said. “Along with a photographer. Did anyone touch the body after it was discovered?” he added to Garrett.

“No, I’m pretty sure no one did.”

Even though Garrett hadn’t actually been side by side with Nicky when she’d seen the skeleton, he knew from her reaction that she’d gotten out of there as fast as she could. He would have the bruise to prove it, too, since her head had slammed into his shoulder. As the high school quarterback, he’d been hit by two-hundred-and-fifty-pound football players who hadn’t rammed into him as hard as Nicky had. And as for Loretta, well, she definitely didn’t look like the corpse-touching type.

“Any idea who the guy is?” Clay asked.

Garrett had to shake his head. “No one’s lived here for nearly fifty years, since my great-aunt Matilda.” He paused, frowned. “You think he’s been dead for that long?”

Clay lifted his shoulder. “Hard to tell without some testing. The fabric on the boxers and hat are rotting, but they’re still mainly intact. There don’t appear to be any signs of trauma to the body. No bashed-in skull, broken neck or bones busted from bullet wounds. There’s also no dried blood around him, but over the years the rats and insects could have eaten that.”

That brought on some more oh my Gods from the widows.

Maybe this would get them all out of there. Fast. Garrett cursed himself. These women had already had their spouses die so this was probably hitting them harder than it was him. Still...they had to go.

He hated to think about something like that now, but having them there wouldn’t make this easier. Plus, Clay wouldn’t want them hanging around while he was conducting an investigation.

“This is a clusterfuck,” Garrett heard Lawson say as he walked up behind him. “And it’s about to get more clustered. Belle and Sophie are on their way. They’ll be here any minute.”

Garrett groaned because his mother didn’t usually make situations better, but she might know something about this. It was more than a little unsettling to think that, but it was equally unsettling to realize that over the years he’d camped out in this house. Had brought two girls here. Hell, once Roman and he had had a party. All while there’d been a dead guy in a closet.