Her Forever Cowboy

“Not nearly as much as you would think,” Brett told her, keeping his smile firmly in place. “I’m not sure exactly how it is in New York, but out here, we do look out for each other—and that includes knowing when to cut a customer off.”

“Except for Nathan McLane,” Liam interjected. The youngest Murphy brother was nothing if not painfully honest—to a fault, Brett sometimes thought.

Alisha looked from Liam to Dan. “Who’s Nathan McLane?”

“A man who’s married to the world’s most overbearing wife,” Brett answered. “Nathan has a very strong reason to come here and drown his sorrows.”

“So you let him get drunk?” she asked, trying to get the story straight.

Brett caught the slight note of disapproval in her voice. “It’s either that, or raise the bail for his release because the poor guy’s going to strangle that woman someday just to get her to stop nagging him.”

Alisha frowned. The dark-haired man was making it sound as if he was doing a good thing. “How noble of you.”

Brett didn’t rise to the bait. He was not about to argue with the woman. He wasn’t in the business of changing people’s minds, only in telling it the way he saw it. “Dunno about noble, but it does keep everyone alive,” he informed her.

Dan lightly took hold of Alisha’s arm, wanting to usher her out while the young doctor who could very well be the answer to his prayers was still willing to remain in Forever and lend him a hand.

Glancing over her head, he indicated to Brett that he had a feeling that if his new recruit remained here, talking to him for a few more minutes, she might be on the first flight out of the nearby airport—headed back to New York.

“Next stop, Miss Joan’s Diner,” Dan announced.

“Hey, Lady Doc,” Brett called after her. Pausing by the door, she turned to spare him a glance. “Nice meeting you.”

“Yes,” she replied coolly. “You, too.” The door closed behind them.

“Wow, if that was any colder, we’d have to bring out the pickaxes to break up the ice around you,” Liam commented.

Brett saw no reason to dispute that assessment. However, true to his ever increasingly optimistic, positive nature, he pointed out, “That means that we can only go up from here.”

Liam shook his head. It was clear that wasn’t what he would have come away with. “You know, Brett, when I was a kid, I never thought of you as being the optimistic type.”

“When you were a kid, you never thought,” Brett reminded him with an infectious, deep laugh. Then he pretended to regard his brother for a moment before saying, “Come to think of it, you haven’t really changed all that much—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Liam said, shaking his head as he waved away his brother’s comment. Glancing toward the door, he asked Brett, “Think she’ll stay? She didn’t look too impressed with the place.”

“Neither was Dan when he first arrived,” Brett reminded his brother. “But Forever’s got a lot of positive things going for it, and besides, it’s got a way of growing on people.”

“Yeah,” Liam laughed shortly as he went back to checking out the musical instruments. “Well, so does fungus.”

“And that, little brother, is one of the reasons why no one’s ever going to come up to you and ask you to write the travel brochure for Forever,” Brett said wryly.

Liam looked at him quizzically. “Forever’s got a travel brochure?”

Brett sighed and shook his head. “Sometimes, Liam, I do despair that all that higher education you were supposed to acquire while I was here, slaving away to pay the bills, was just leaking out your ear as fast as it went in.”

Liam frowned at his brother, but his mood left as quickly as it had materialized. Ever since he was a child, it was a known fact that Liam didn’t have it in him to stay mad at anyone, least of all his brothers.

Finished with what he was doing, Liam went on to step two of his process. “I’ve got to go round up the band and make sure everything’s set for tonight.”

Brett nodded as he went back to cleaning an already gleaming counter. He wasn’t content until there were at least two coats of polish on it, buffed and dried.

“You do that, Liam,” he told his brother. “You do that—just as long as you remember to get back here by six.”

Liam stopped just short of opening the front door. “I don’t go on until nine,” he reminded Brett.

“Right,” Brett agreed, sparing his brother a glance before getting back to polishing, “but you’re tending bar at six. Tonight’s our busy night,” he added in case Liam had lost track of the days, “and I can’t manage a full house alone.”

“Get Finn,” Liam told him. “He doesn’t have anything else to do.”

Brett caught his brother’s meaning. That he felt he had found his calling and wanted to be free to put all his energy toward it.

“Don’t belittle your brother just because he hasn’t found his heart’s passion yet,” Brett chided. “It doesn’t come to everyone at the same time.”

“How about you, Brett? What’s your passion?” Liam asked.

“I like running the bar.” He made no apologies for it. His running the bar had been the family’s saving grace. Rather than feel restrained by it, he was grateful for it and enjoyed being the one in charge of the place.

But Liam looked at him in disbelief. “And that’s it? Nothing else?”

Brett took no offense at the incredulous tone. Liam was young and couldn’t understand anyone who had a different focus, or aspirations that differed from his. He’d learn, Brett thought.

Out loud he said, “I like having my brothers pitch in without having to listen to some complicated internal argument that they feel obliged to repeat for me out loud.”

Liam’s handsome baby face scrunched up for a moment, as if thinking took every shred of concentration he had at his disposal. “That’s supposed to put me in my place, isn’t it?” he asked.

Brett flashed a tolerant grin at him. “Nice to know that all my money for your higher education wasn’t completely misplaced. Okay, go,” he said, waving Liam out the door. “Get your band ready and get back here by six.”

The expression on Liam’s face testified that he’d thought this argument had been resolved in his favor. “But—”

Brett pretended he didn’t hear his brother’s protest.

“With luck, I’ll get Finn to help. He doesn’t whine,” he added for good measure.

“Oh, he whines. You just don’t hear him” were Liam’s parting words.

But Brett had already tuned him out. There were still things to see to before Murphy’s officially opened its doors for the evening.

Chapter Two

“It’s open, but I’m not serving yet,” Brett called out in response to the light knock on the saloon’s front door.

He thought it rather unusual that anyone would be knocking rather than just trying the doorknob and walking in. Most everyone in town knew that the door was unlocked not just during normal business hours—hours that extended way into the night—but also during nonbusiness hours if any one of the Murphys were down on the ground floor. The only time the doors were locked was if they were all out or if one of them was upstairs.

The upper floor housed a small apartment that had once been occupied by Patrick Murphy, their father’s older brother, when he was alive and running the family establishment. Although Brett and his brothers lived in a house close to Murphy’s, there were times when Brett stayed in the apartment after putting in an exceptionally long night, too tired to walk home. And there were those times when he just wanted to grab a little time away from everyone in order to recharge batteries that were almost perpetually in use.

“That’s fine because I’m not drinking yet,” Olivia Santiago replied as she walked into Murphy’s.

Turning around to look at the tall, slender blonde, one of Forever’s two lawyers, Brett was more than a little surprised to see the woman here at this hour—and alone. It wasn’t even noon.

He stopped restocking and came to the bar closest to the front door. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of having the sheriff’s wife grace my establishment?”

“I’m not here as Rick’s wife,” Olivia told him, sliding onto a bar stool.

Brett reached for a bottle of ginger ale, knowing that was the lawyer’s beverage of choice before six o’clock. Taking a glass, he filled it and then moved it in front of her, before pouring one for himself.

He took into account the way she was dressed. Olivia had on a dark gray jacket and a straight matching skirt. A soft pink shirt added a touch of warmth to her appearance. Nonetheless, she was dressed for business.

“Then this is an official visit?” he surmised.

“If you mean am I here as a lawyer, the answer’s yes,” she confirmed, then paused to take a sip.

“Someone suing us?” Brett asked, unable to think of any other reason she’d be here in her professional capacity. Even so, he couldn’t think of a single reason anyone would be suing them.

Olivia’s mouth curved. “Should they be?” she asked after taking another long sip from her glass.

Brett paused for a moment, as if giving her question due consideration. “Can’t think of anyone who’d want to, but both my only relatives are accounted for and alive, so I can’t think of another reason for you to be here at this hour like this.”

“Maybe I decided to take a break from work,” she suggested.

“You’re a workaholic. You don’t take a break. I don’t think you even stopped to take a breath after you gave birth.” Births and deaths were very big events in a town the size of Forever. Each were duly noted and remembered by one and all.

“Oh, no, I stopped,” Olivia assured him with feeling. “Trust me, having a child is a pretty life-altering event. You have to stop whatever else you’re doing in order to absorb the full impact.”

“I wouldn’t know firsthand, but I’m not about to dispute that,” he told her. He nodded at her glass and asked, “Can I get you anything else?”

Slight confusion creased her brow. “I thought that you and Miss Joan had an agreement. She doesn’t serve any alcoholic beverages, and you don’t serve any food.”

“We do and I don’t,” he confirmed. “But I’ve got several kinds of nuts to offer my customers.” Then, by way of an explanation in case, as a lawyer, she viewed that as a deal breaker, he said, “I don’t think anyone really considers nuts to be food.”

“Don’t tell that to the squirrels,” she commented, then smiled. “I’m fine,” she assured him before adding, “No nuts. Thanks.”

Brett shrugged as he returned to restocking the bar. “Don’t mention it. Any time I can not get you something, just let me know.”

Olivia remained silent for a few minutes, as if waiting. She smiled at Brett when he turned around again to pick up another bottle of alcohol.

“You’re not going to ask, are you?” she marveled. “You have an amazing lack of curiosity. Either that, or you have remarkable restraint.”

“It’s not that,” Brett replied. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned on the other side of this bar, it’s that if someone has something to say, you give them enough time, they’ll tell you—if only to get it off their chest. All I have to do is wait—and if there’s one thing I’ve gotten really good at, it’s waiting.”

Olivia bided her time until he’d set down the two bottles of vodka in his hands before telling him, “That’s not the only thing you’re good at, apparently.”

“Okay, now I’m curious,” Brett admitted. “That comment’s going to need some explaining.”

Olivia leaned slightly over the bar, her body language calling for his undivided attention even though they were the only two people in the bar. “Do you remember Earl Robertson?”

He thought for a moment—not because he couldn’t put a face to the name, but because he was trying to remember the last time he’d seen the man who had been a friend of his father’s. It had to have been at least three years since the man left town. Maybe more.

“Sure, I remember Earl. He took off to live in Taos, New Mexico. Said he always wanted to see that part of the country.”

He didn’t add that he had tried to persuade the man to stay. Earl had been getting on in years, and as far as he could tell, the man had no friends or family in Taos. No one to look out for him. But to suggest that would have meant wounding the man’s pride, and that was something he hadn’t been willing to do. For some men, pride was all they had. That was the case with Earl.

“What’s he doing these days?” he asked, keeping his tone light.

“Not much of anything,” Olivia replied. “Earl Robertson died last week.”

The words hit harder than he’d expected. The man wasn’t family, but at this point, Earl was the closest thing to family he and his brothers still had. He felt he owed the old man a lot.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good guy,” Brett said after a beat.

“Apparently,” Olivia went on, “Mr. Robertson thought the same thing about you.” Brett looked at her, not sure what to expect as she continued. “He was grateful that you came to look in on him when he was sick that last time.”

Brett wasn’t much for taking credit for things. He preferred being perceived as a laid-back, carefree man rather than the nurturing person he actually was.

He shrugged off Olivia’s words, saying, “Hey, he didn’t have anybody, and he’d been there to help out when my parents died in that car accident. I think Uncle Patrick would have been completely at a loss as to what to do about the funeral and—to be honest—us, if it hadn’t been for Earl.

“And then when Uncle Patrick passed on,” he recalled, “Earl was there to make sure that my brothers and I were okay. He told me that if there was ever anything that I needed, to be sure to come to him. I was just sixteen and determined to look after Finn and Liam. I don’t have to tell you that I was pretty damn grateful that there was someone to catch me if I fell.” He shrugged as if his own actions were no big deal. “I was just trying to pay him back a little.”

Olivia nodded. Brett’s summary was in keeping with what she knew. “Well, Mr. Robertson apparently remembered that.”

There was something in the lawyer’s tone that caught his attention. “Where’s this going, Olivia?”

Olivia smiled, obviously happy to be the bearer of good news. “It seems that Earl Robertson left his ranch to you.”

Brett stared at her. Although Forever was surrounded by ranches, the thought of him owning one had never crossed his mind. He knew that Earl had the ranch, but he’d never wondered who it would go to if the man didn’t return from New Mexico.

“You’re kidding,” he all but whispered, somewhat stunned by the news.

“Not during office hours,” Olivia replied with an exceptionally straight face.

Numb, he asked, “Did Earl say what he wanted me to do with it?”

Olivia finished the last of her ginger ale, placed the empty glass on the bar and then said, “Anything you want would be my guess. Looks like you’re finally a cowboy, Brett.”

He thought about the plot of land that had belonged to Earl. As far as he knew, it hadn’t been worked since the man had left. For that matter, it hadn’t really been worked for a year before that, either. That was about the time when the man’s health had begun to take a turn for the worse. He did recall that during the man’s final days in Forever, Earl had him sell off his stock. After Earl left for Taos, the place remained abandoned.

What the hell was he supposed to do with an abandoned ranch? Brett wondered.

“You sure about this?” he asked Olivia. “I’ve got enough on my hands just running this place.” Then, in the next breath, he asked, “Can I sell it?”

“Sure. You can do anything you want with it,” she reminded him. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t sell it just yet. You might want to consider doing something with the spread down the line. After all, you and your brothers take turns running the bar. Can’t see why you can’t do the same thing with the ranch. Maybe turn it back into a working spread again. Rick told me that’s what it was before Earl got sick.”

Brett laughed shortly. “What the hell do I know about running a ranch?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. I do know that despite that laid-back charm of yours, you’re actually a very determined man, accomplishing anything you set your mind to. Learning how to run a ranch would come easy to you. Besides, you’ve got friends, and they’re probably more than willing to pitch in and help you out.

“And,” she continued logically, “if, after a while, you decide you still don’t want to be a cowboy, then I’ll help you locate a buyer. I’m sure we can find someone who’ll be happy to take it off your hands. The property’s just outside the north border of the town. Being that close, there’re endless possibilities for it if ranching doesn’t appeal to you. Town needs a hotel. You could build one on the property and still have enough left to have a small spread, or anything else that presents itself to you.”

She leaned back on the stool for a minute, studying him. Her smile widened.

“What?”

“Just picturing you riding around your property.” She cocked her head, thinking. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you on a horse, Brett.”

Brett began to dust off some of the bottles that hadn’t been pressed into service for a while. He believed in running a relatively pristine establishment. “There’s a reason for that.”

“You don’t ride?” she guessed.

“I don’t own a horse,” he corrected. “Don’t have a reason to.”

Her curiosity aroused, she pressed for an answer. “But you can ride?”

“Everyone can ride in Forever,” he told her. “Some of us just choose not to.” He stuck the dust cloth in his back pocket while he rearranged a few of the bottles.

“Understandable.” Olivia slid off her stool in a single fluid movement. “Well, I’ve got to be getting back. Come by the office when you get a chance so I can officially show you the will. I should have the deed transfer all squared away and notarized for you in a couple of days.”

Brett nodded, still trying to come to terms with what she’d just told him. Owning Murphy’s was something he’d just accepted as part of his heritage. Owning property—a ranch, no less—was something he was going to have to get used to.

“Will do,” he told her. And then a thought hit him. “Oh, Olivia?”

About to cross to the front door, Olivia turned to look at him, waiting. “Yes?”

He tried to make his question sound like a casual one. “What do you know about the new doc?”

Olivia smiled. “Other than the fact that Dan’s overjoyed she’s here, and Tina is now hopeful that she’ll see Dan sitting across from her at dinner at least a few times a week?”

Brett laughed. “Yes, other than that.”

“Not much,” she admitted.

The new doctor had been in town for a couple of weeks, and no one had struck up a casual conversation with her, as far as he knew.

“Dan says her credentials are impeccable, she graduated at close to the top of her class and her letters of recommendation are glowing, although I have a feeling that he would have hired her even if the letters had been only a tad better than mediocre. Right now she’s staying with Tina and Dan until she can find a place of her own, and according to Tina, she’s not exactly very talkative. Why?” she asked as it suddenly dawned on her why Brett was asking. “Are you interested?”

“I’m always interested in a pretty woman,” he answered. “Especially when I can’t figure out what she’s doing here.” He saw Olivia raise an eyebrow quizzically in response to his words. “Someone who looks like that doesn’t just pick up and move out to the middle of nowhere.”

Olivia pretended to be insulted. “Are you telling me that I’m not attractive?”

“You didn’t move out into the middle of nowhere. You came looking for your runaway sister,” he reminded her. “And while you were looking, you fell in love with Rick. Then you decided to stay. That’s different.”

Olivia considered his narrative. “Maybe she came here looking for something, too,” she suggested.

“Like what?” he asked.

“That would be something for an enterprising cowboy to find out,” Olivia told him with a knowing wink, looking at him significantly. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” Brett echoed.

Brett paused, thoughtfully watching Olivia leave. The last part of their conversation had intrigued him more than the first part of it had, despite the fact that he had apparently just inherited an entire ranch that he hadn’t a clue what to do with.

As with everything else that challenged his problem-solving skills, he pushed the matter temporarily from his mind. He’d much rather center his thoughts on the lovely, uncommunicative lady doc.

Now, there was a challenge he would more than willingly tackle.

The word tackle caused his smile to widen as he went about his work.

* * *

THE NOISE LEVEL in the bar that night made it difficult to carry on a decent conversation that went beyond a few simple words. As had become the habit on Friday nights, Liam and his band were providing the entertainment at Murphy’s. The band was in full swing, the music all but shaking the rafters. He could just see the few knickknacks in the apartment above slowly vibrating across the floor.

Listening, Brett had to admit, if only to himself for now, that his little brother was a damn fine performer. Liam played the guitar as if it was an extension of himself, and his voice wasn’t just tolerable; it was actually good.

And getting better all the time.

As far as he knew, Liam had been at this for about a year, finally finding the courage to play in front of the people he had known all his life. Fearing that his aspirations could never reach the heights he’d wished for himself, that he was good only in his own mind, Liam had even held back from playing for his own family. It wasn’t until both he and Finn had all but bullied their younger brother into giving them a demonstration that Liam had finally played for them. What began hesitantly had gone on to be a performance worthy of a budding professional—and Brett had been the first to realize that.

After a bit of soul-searching—he’d always been protective of his brothers, although the two really weren’t that aware of it—Brett had been the one to light a fire under Liam and encouraged his brother to bring his band and play at Murphy’s.

For now, the weekly performances were enough to satisfy the budding artist within Liam. But Brett knew in his heart that Liam wouldn’t be satisfied with this level of performing forever. Eventually, Liam would want to try his wings elsewhere. To see if he could fly.

As a rule, Brett didn’t much care for change, but at the same time, he understood that nothing ever really stayed the same. But that was his problem, not Liam’s. He just had to make his peace with that.

He wanted Liam to do whatever it took to make himself happy.

For a moment, Brett tuned out everything else in the bar and just listened to Liam play.

“He’s better than I thought he’d be.”

The comment, spoken in a normal tone of voice, still managed to cut through the din and his concentration to reach Brett. Half turning, Brett looked over to his right to see the woman who had voiced her opinion. He just wanted to verify that it was who he’d thought it was.

And he was right.

And surprised. She was the last person he would’ve expected to be here, given what she’d implied two weeks ago. And while he’d considered coming to Dan’s clinic with some bogus health complaint just to see her in action, he’d decided to hold off and see if the woman was actually staying—or if she couldn’t hack it and decided to turn tail and run.

So far, the jury was out on that decision.

“That makes two of us,” he told Alisha in a vague, preoccupied voice. And then he turned on his charm. It was never far from the surface. “First drink’s on the house,” he told her, “although I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here.”

That made two of them again, she thought. “No more surprised than I am to find myself here.”