The Rancher's Texas Match

Tall, with a black Stetson covering his gray hair and metal-framed glasses on the end of his nose, Harold had presence. And he had a document in his hands that looked far too official.

“Meeting to order.” Gabriel glanced around the group. He cited the date, the time, the emergency status of a meeting of the Waco district Lone Star Cowboy League chapter.

The formalities were taken care of with some seconds, a vote, and then on to new business.

“I would like to recognize our guest, Harold Haverman.”

Harold stood, pushed the silver-framed glasses back in place and shifted the papers he still held. He gave them all a look, serious as could be, no hints as to what this was all about.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming today. I know this is unexpected.” He peered at them over the top of those glasses. “As you all know, we lost a respected member of our community. Cyrus Culpepper passed last week. I know several of you attended his funeral. Today I have the honor of sharing with you his last will and testament.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Bea started to stand, but Gabriel shook his head. “I have children at home.”

“Bea, this won’t take a minute.” Harold cleared his throat and shook out the papers. “If you’ll just give me five minutes to read this. And then we can take care of the details.”

He started to read. Silence held as the members looked from one to the other, clearly astonished. Tanner glanced across the table and made quick eye contact with Macy Swanson and got caught in those green eyes of hers. She looked wary and like she was pretty sure she shouldn’t be involved. She also looked like someone still hurting. The grief for her brother had turned to pain for a little boy still missing his parents.

Listening as Haverman read the final will of one Cyrus Culpepper, curmudgeon and stirrer of the pot, Tanner thought that maybe they’d all just been tossed in the middle of a big old mess.

I, Cyrus B. Culpepper, am writing this on my deathbed with, per my doc of over forty years, only days or weeks to go. I may be about to meet my maker, but I am of sound mind and hereby bequeath the bulk of my estate to the Boys Ranch, as I was once a resident myself back when the ranch first started in 1947. Yes, that’s right. I might be an old curmudgeon who can’t tolerate a thing, but since I was once a troubled kid who was turned around by the Boys Ranch, I want to do something for the place. However, I have conditions. When I lived at the Boys Ranch, there were four other original residents who I lost touch with. I would like you to bring them together for a reunion at the ranch on March 20th, a party on my birthday for the 70th anniversary celebration of the Boys Ranch. That gives you six months. Now, now, quit your bellyaching—given all the newfangled technology, search engines and social media nonsense, you’ll probably find them lickety-split. Though I never tried, so who knows? I suppose I’ve gotten a bit nostalgic in my old age and leave it up to you whippersnappers to do my bidding.

Oh—and one more thing. I had a son, John Culpepper, who I didn’t get on with too well after his mother passed. We were estranged, but I know he had a child, a girl—Avery—who lost her mother. I heard, well after the fact, that my son died when the child was young. I have no idea what happened to her, and I’d like to invite her to the ranch to receive an inheritance.

If the terms of my will are not met, I’ve instructed my attorney, Harold Haverman, to bequeath the estate, minus a small endowment to the Boys Ranch, to Lance Thurston, a real estate developer, to build a strip mall bearing my name. Sometimes you have to provide the right incentive.

Now for the boring part. The “bulk of my estate” is to include my ranch house and all the outbuildings, livestock and land except for the cabin in which I grew up and the five acres of land it sits on. That cabin, five miles from the ranch on the outskirts of town, and land is bequeathed to Miss Avery Culpepper, to be given to her in March. I was a self-starter and believe everyone should be, but I also believe I did wrong by Avery and want her to have what she likely would have garnered over the years as my granddaughter. The rest of my bank accounts and investments are bequeathed to the LSCL Boys Ranch.

Yours, Cyrus B. Culpepper

Everyone was talking at once. Outrage. Shock. The library fairly rattled with raised voices. Fletcher Snowden Phillips, last remaining kin of the founders of the boys ranch, was the loudest. He was crowing that the ranch was meant to be at Silver Star and nowhere else. For a man constantly trying to litigate against the ranch, that rang false.

Gabriel Everett pounded the gavel on the table, and a hush fell with just a few last-ditch remarks from those wanting to voice concern.

“It looks as if we’ll need volunteers.” Gabriel looked over the group that had gone suspiciously quiet. No surprise. Everyone had something to say until they were asked to contribute more than words.

Macy Swanson raised a tentative hand, and Gabriel gave her the floor. Tanner leaned back in his chair, wondering what she planned on saying...and why he was so interested to hear it.

Chapter Two

“I’ll volunteer to help find one of the people on the list. If anyone needs use of the library computers, they’re available. Social media is probably a good place to start searching.” She made quick eye contact with the people at the table, and when she got to Tanner, she faltered. Their gazes connected and she felt her cheeks flush.

Gabriel Everett sat down at the head of the big table. He looked too relieved when Macy volunteered. And she felt a little apprehensive. She wasn’t a part of this group, of this town, or their lives. Every single day she woke up in Haven she felt like a fraud. She could buy boots, show up at church, even cook a decent dessert for the monthly potluck. But she was as far from country as a person could get.

And she’d never been a part of a community, not a tight-knit place like this. People asked questions, they prodded, they wanted to be involved in her life and have her involved in theirs. She’d never been that kind of person. She’d grown up in a sprawling neighborhood, but she hadn’t known her neighbors.

So why in the world had she raised her hand to volunteer? Because Gabriel had looked like a lost giant standing at the end of the table waiting for someone to say something?

Now that she’d opened her mouth to volunteer, everyone was staring. Tanner Barstow, blue eyes and too-handsome face, wore a frown as he studied her from across the table. She glanced at Bea, hoping for a little moral support.

Bea patted her arm and smiled big. “Well, there you go. We’re all sitting here stunned, and Macy is jumping right in. Gabriel, give us that list again so that Macy can write them down, and we can figure out who is doing what here. It seems to me that we don’t have time to waste. We need that ranch.”

“And what if we can’t find those four people and the granddaughter?” Fletcher Snowden Phillips stood. He was tall, middle-aged, with thinning hair and a scowl that could have put off the most well-intentioned person.

Macy shivered in reaction to his growling voice. As a lawyer, Fletcher knew how to back people down. And she knew that he had long wanted the boys ranch closed. She found that hard to believe, considering his grandmother Luella Snowden Phillips, along with the Lone Star Cowboy League, Waco Chapter, had started the boys ranch. His own father, Tucker, had been the reason for the ranch. A neighboring rancher had helped put Tucker back on the straight and narrow, and later on, mother and son had done what they could to save other boys.

“What if these people have passed, or are too sick or just unwilling to come to this event Cyrus wanted us to plan?” Seth Jacobs, a rancher from closer to Waco, asked. Macy had met him at the boys ranch.

Harold Haverman tapped the pages of the will on the table and stood, sliding the papers back into a folder. “If you don’t find the people he has asked you to find, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“I think the will clearly states that the property will be turned into a strip mall.” Gabriel shook his head as he made the observation.

“That’s a mighty big strip mall,” Tanner drawled in that low, easy voice of his. He grinned at Gabriel. “I find it hard to believe Cyrus would do that to his pride and joy.”

“It isn’t for us to say what Cyrus would or wouldn’t have done,” Beatrice chimed in. “We have to make sure that ranch becomes the property of the League because we have boys waiting to be a part of our program.”

“I get that, Bea, but it seems a little like a wild-goose chase to me.” Flint Rawlings, foreman of the boys ranch, swept a large hand through his dark blond hair and then settled his hat back on his head. He rested his gaze on Fletcher. “And, Fletch, don’t get all excited. The boys ranch isn’t going to come to an end if we don’t get that property. We still have the Silver Star.”

Fletcher shook his head and then clamped his mouth closed. It was well-known around town that Fletcher used his legal might against the ranch. No one really understood why.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “We have five people to find, if you include Cyrus’s granddaughter, Avery.”

“And who are they?” Beatrice prodded.

Gabriel picked up a piece of paper. “Avery Culpepper, the granddaughter, and then we have Samuel Teller, Morton Mason, Edmond Grayson and Theodore Linley.”

Bea coughed a little, and Macy saw her shoot a look in Tanner’s direction. “Well, Gabriel, you should be able to help us find Theo.”

Gabriel pushed the paper aside. Macy was lost. She didn’t know these people or their stories. She waited, watching each person at the table as they reacted to the list.

“My grandfather and I haven’t spoken in so long, I wouldn’t recognize his voice on the phone. I’m not sure I’d know him if I saw him. And I doubt he wants to talk to me.” Gabriel glanced around the room. “I have one volunteer.”

“I’ll look for Theodore Linley,” Tanner offered into the silent room.

Gabriel gave a curt nod. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ll look for Avery Culpepper,” Macy offered.

Next to her, Beatrice tapped her fingers on the table and hmm’ed. “Well, I have the most at stake. Or should I say, my kids do. I’ll look for Samuel Teller and Morton Mason. It seems as if I might have a few emails or letters from former members. It might be easier than we think.”

Flint, sitting closest to Gabriel, reached for the paper. “I guess I’ll look for Mr. Grayson. That name is common, but I have a friend with the same last name.”

Beatrice smiled big. “So, the good Lord willing...”

“And the creek don’t rise,” someone muttered from the other end of the table.

Bea shot the offending party a look. “I’ve been praying for a bigger place or for money to build more cabins. The church has been praying. God has opened this door, and I, for one, intend on going through it.”

“Amen,” Gabriel murmured. “When does the Triple C become the property of the boys ranch and the LSCL?”

Mr. Haverman looked at his notes. “Possession begins one month from the reading of the will. Although you understand if the stipulations of the will aren’t met, you’ll have to return the property and move the boys back to the Silver Star. And Miss Avery Culpepper will be allowed to move to her property in March. And, please, don’t question me, because Cyrus had his reasons.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and ran a hand over them. Finally he looked out over the group that had assembled. “And with that, we will adjourn the meeting. If any of you want to stay and plan how to proceed, feel free to use this room. I’m afraid I have another appointment.”

With that, he picked up his briefcase and left.

Macy made eye contact with Bea. The other woman just shrugged and adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses but then turned her attention to Tanner.

“Well, Tanner?” Bea prodded.

The room had cleared, leaving only the four of them. Macy, Tanner, Flint and Bea. Tanner got up and headed for the coffeepot and Styrofoam cups.

“Coffee?” he offered.

He started pouring cups before anyone could answer.

“This Culpepper ranch is large?” Macy asked as she took the offered cup. She didn’t mean to notice Tanner’s hands, long-fingered, tanned, calloused, but when their fingers touched, she couldn’t help it.

Flint laughed at the question, but his smile was genuinely friendly. “The Triple C is a big spread. The house has three wings. There are plenty of buildings. And there’s room to grow.”

Beatrice got up to make copies of the list of names. “And that property is going to be our new ranch. I’m just not willing to give up on this. Every day I get a call from the state. There aren’t enough foster homes or residential facilities. Macy put Colby on the list last winter, and it took us several months to get him a bed. It breaks my heart each time we have to turn away a child in need of a home, or counseling.”

Tanner stopped behind Beatrice and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We won’t let you down, Bea.”

He took one of the papers she’d copied and returned to his seat. Macy pulled out her phone and typed the name Avery Culpepper into the search engine. A slew of entries appeared. She held the phone up for the others to see.

“It isn’t going to be easy, but it won’t be that difficult. There are dozens of hits for the name Avery Culpepper. I’m sure you’ll have the same experience with your names. And then it’s a matter of tracking down the correct person.”

“I hope it’s that easy,” Flint grumbled.

“Me, too.” Bea stood. “I’m not sure what else we can do here today. I have a dozen boys waiting to be fed, and I guess some kind of chaos Tanner created before we left.”

Tanner grinned. “Yeah, that’s what I do, create chaos. But the kid whisperer, Macy, calmed them all down with a story.”

Kid whisperer. She wished that were true. If it were true, she wouldn’t be a failure with her own nephew. As they stood to go, Tanner stepped in close.

“He’ll survive this.” He said it with conviction.

“I’m sorry?” She looked up, unsure what he meant.

“Colby,” he continued. “I know you worry about him, but give it time. He’ll come around.”

“I hope you’re right.” She prayed he was right. Because she didn’t want to lose her nephew. For Colby she would stay in Haven. She would manage to be the person he needed her to be in this small town with people who commented, gave advice and offered help.

What other choice did she have? She’d given up her life and her career in Dallas. She’d given up the fiancé who didn’t support her decisions.

This was her new life.

As they left together, Tanner touched her back, a gesture that comforted. She was sure that was what he meant by the fleeting contact. But it did more than comfort her; it made her aware of his presence.

In all the months she’d been here, he’d struck her as a man who didn’t get involved. He was a successful rancher and business owner. He sometimes showed up at the boys ranch. He rarely took time to socialize.

Today she was in a vulnerable place, worrying about Colby and missing her brother. Tomorrow she would be back to normal and Tanner’s touch, his kind words, would make sense.

* * *

Tanner strode through the doors of the Haven Tractor and Supply. His sister, Chloe, looked up from the counter and smiled. He felt immediately on edge because she was wearing that look, the one that spelled trouble for him. She wanted something. And he’d probably give in and get it for her. If he could.

“Been busy?” he asked as he walked behind the counter. He saw that she’d been doodling on a piece of paper. Pictures of dresses. The wedding variety of dress. He cringed. She was twenty-four and old enough, but he didn’t think she was ready. As an older brother he doubted he’d ever be ready to see her walked down the aisle, by either himself or their brother, Major Travis Barstow.

“Not real busy. Larry has a customer on the lot, looking at a tractor. Or a stock trailer. I’m not sure which.” She tapped the pencil on the counter and sneaked a look at him.

He pretended not to notice, but he almost couldn’t hide a smile. She was pretty, his sister. Dark hair in a ponytail, she was all country with beat-up boots, faded jeans. She made it all feminine with a lacy top she’d probably spent a day’s wages on.

“Are you selling off steers this weekend?” She hopped up on a stool and slid the doodles under the cash register. Like he hadn’t noticed.

“Are you buying wedding dresses?”

She turned a little pink. “No. I’m a girl. We dream about weddings.”

“You’ve only been dating Russell for a few months.”

Her smile dissolved. “He’s a good guy, Tanner. He’s made mistakes, but he’s got a job, and he’s trying to make things right.”

“I know that. I’m willing to give him a chance, but I’m not willing to let him hurt you.”

Her smile returned. “I’ve been thinking that maybe you could let him volunteer at the Silver Star. They’re going to need help moving, and it would give you a chance to get to know him.”

“I’ll talk to Beatrice. But, Chloe, I’m not going to put up with nonsense when he’s around the kids.”

“I know and I appreciate that. Tanner, he made mistakes when he was young. His parents’ divorce really upset him. He did things he shouldn’t have. But that isn’t who he is.”

“He stole a truck and a stock trailer full of cattle.”

“He was seventeen. He hasn’t been that person in a long time.”

“People in town have their suspicions.”

Before he could finish, Chloe slid off the stool and closed the distance between them. Yeah, he was in trouble. She’d always known how to work him. With a soft smile, she kissed his cheek and then patted it.

“You’re the best big brother a girl could have.”

“And you always say that when you get what you want.”

She didn’t move away. Her blue eyes glistened with tears, and his own throat tightened in response because he knew she was going to drag them back into the past, into memories she didn’t have because she’d been too young.

“You’ve been taking care of me for a long time,” she started. “Since I was a baby you’ve been the one feeding me, changing my diapers and keeping me safe.”

“How would you know? You were a baby.”

“Travis told me. And Aunt May. She said she had a hard time getting you to let go and just be a kid. You were always the one. You took care of us. And then you took care of May.”

“Do you have a point?” he asked, his voice more gruff than he’d intended. It didn’t seem to bother her. No, not his little sister. She smiled and dug her heels in, intent on some emotional rabbit trail.

“Yes, I have a point. Find someone to love, Tanner. You’re not getting any younger, you know. And I’m past the age of really needing a caretaker.”

“Thanks for that reminder of my advancing age.”

She grinned at that. “It’s the truth. You are getting a little long in the tooth. But, seriously, you’d make an amazing dad and a great husband. So why not let yourself be loved? Stop thinking you have to be there for everyone else, and let someone be there for you.”

“Words of wisdom?”

She scooted around him and headed for the door. “I am wise. I’m also right. It’s time for you to find a wife. Travis is happy in California. I’m eventually going to get married. And then you’ll be alone in that castle you’ve built.”

“It isn’t a castle.”

“It’s your kingdom,” she countered. “Fill it with kids.”

She left, and he didn’t have a thing to say in response to her lecture. It was almost closing time. He walked to the front door and watched as his salesman and mechanic, Larry, walked past the building to an old farm truck. The customer was old Joe Falkner, known to be worth millions. Joe still drove a truck he’d bought new a couple of decades ago. He lived in a house that appeared to be falling apart. But he raised some of the best Angus in the state.

He joined Larry as Joe drove off.

“Don’t tell me Joe is thinking of getting a new stock trailer.”

Larry laughed and pulled a stick of gum out of his pocket. He’d been trying to quit smoking for six months. So now he chewed gum. A lot of gum. He offered a piece to Tanner.

“Yeah, he’s going to have to buy a trailer. The floor rotted out of his. The guy who normally fixes it said no more, he isn’t fixing that trailer again.”

“Did you close him on one?”

Larry shook his head. “He won’t turn loose of a dime. He said in 1970-something he could get that trailer for, I don’t know, a ridiculous amount.”

“I guess if he decides to haul some cattle to auction, he’ll come back and buy a trailer.”

“Knowing Joe, he’ll go hire some drovers and herd those cattle to the auction like they did a hundred years ago.”

“Don’t give him that idea.” Tanner glanced at his watch. “I’m going to take a drive. You’ll be here for a bit?”

“Yeah, anything you need me to do?”

“Yeah, pray. We’ve got six months to find some people, or old Cyrus Culpepper’s place is going to be paved over.”

“I’d heard rumors about a crazy will. You can’t pave over that many acres, and Cyrus hated those types of developments.”

“Tell that to his will.”

Larry adjusted the bent-up cowboy hat he always wore. “He was an ornery old cuss. It’s hard to tell what he was thinking, but I’m sure he had some kind of angle when he came up with this plan.”

“I’d sure like to know what it was. If I don’t get back, will you close up?”

“You got it, boss.” Larry headed back to the building.

Tanner didn’t really have a plan when he left, but he found himself heading up the drive of the Triple C. It wasn’t too far from his own spread. When he pulled up, he saw another car in the driveway. He got out of his truck, surprised to see Macy sitting on the hood of her car looking at the old Culpepper place.

For a long minute he stood watching her. Her blond hair was pulled back with a headband, and sunglasses perched on the end of her nose. She looked out of place in jeans, boots and a plaid shirt, as if she was trying to fit, but she didn’t. She was city, from her manicured nails to the way she stepped around mud to keep it from getting on those boots of hers.

He admired that she wanted to blend, that she wanted to transplant herself in this community for the sake of a little boy who had already lost too much.

Admiring was as far as he wanted to let his thoughts take him on a sunny day in October when his sister was looking at wedding dresses, his brother was currently on temporary duty somewhere in the Middle East and Cyrus had strung them all up by their toes, asking for something that might be impossible. “I came to pray,” she finally said without turning to look at him.

The words took him by surprise, but they weren’t uncomfortable the way they might have been if someone else had said them. She was simply stating a fact.

He closed the distance between them.

“I came to take a look around. I haven’t been here in years. I don’t know if anyone has been up here. Cyrus kept a loaded shotgun, and he made it pretty clear he’d shoot first and ask questions later.” He grinned at the memory of the old guy.

“He didn’t like people?”

He leaned a hip against the hood of her car, leaving a good bit of space between them. “I guess he liked people okay. He just didn’t want anyone messing around up here. He must have liked people, because he’s making a big donation to the LSCL Boys Ranch.”

“He isn’t making it easy.”

“I guess that’s true. But we’ll work it out. Like most of us, Cyrus had baggage. I never knew he had a kid, let alone a granddaughter. I didn’t know he’d lived at the ranch.”

“There are several Avery Culpeppers in the area.”

It hadn’t taken her long to get started. He hadn’t even thought about where to start his search for Theo Linley. He doubted Gabriel would be much help.