Heart of Texas Volume 1: Lonesome Cowboy

Laredo grew quiet, and then she felt his eyes on her. “Since you offered me the job, I think it’s only fair to tell you I was fired from my last position.” He told her he’d been accused of theft, wrongly accused. He neither cast nor accepted blame. “I may be a lot of things, but a thief isn’t one of them. If you change your mind, I’ll understand.”

“I won’t,” she said, but the instincts that had felt so right moments earlier wavered like dry grass whipped by a harsh summer wind. “I...I appreciate your being honest enough to tell me,” Savannah said. Naturally the first thing Grady would want from a stranger, especially one she’d taken it upon herself to hire, was references. Well—like everything else about this day—she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

“You won’t be disappointed,” Laredo added. “You have my word on that.”

A plume of dust followed them as they headed down the pitched dirt driveway leading off the highway. No sooner had Savannah pulled into the yard and turned off the engine than Grady dashed out of the barn and stalked toward her like an avenging angel.

“Just where the bloody hell have you been all afternoon?” her brother demanded, ignoring the shambling black dog that trailed him and nudged the fist clenched at his side.

Savannah inhaled deeply and held her breath while she climbed out of the truck. If she hadn’t stopped to pick up Laredo, she might have returned before Grady rode in from the range. Rather than answer his questions, she leaned over and scratched Rocket’s ears. The old dog, who’d once belonged to their father, was now well past his prime. He wagged his tail in appreciation.

“You might have left a note.” Her brother’s ranting continued despite her lack of response.

“I apologize, but—” She wasn’t allowed to finish.

“I don’t want an apology. I want to know where you were all afternoon.” His eyes narrowed on the man beside her. “And I have a feeling I’m not going to like the answer.”

It mortified her to have her brother yell at her like this in front of Laredo. “Grady,” she said urgently, “perhaps we could discuss this inside.”

“You did it, didn’t you? Even though I warned you! I told you not to look for Bitter End! Doesn’t anyone listen to me anymore? I thought you were smarter than this! Anything could happen to you up in those hills all by yourself. What’s the matter with you, anyway? You should know better than to risk your fool neck over something as ridiculous as a stupid rosebush.” His face had turned red with anger.

Disregarding Laredo, her brother advanced toward her. Two steps was as close as he got before her newfound friend moved protectively in front of her, directly in Grady’s path.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Grady, this is Laredo Smith,” Savannah said evenly, praying she sounded calm and in control. “His truck broke down, and, um, I’ve offered him a job.”

A second of shocked silence followed. “You what?”

The anger Grady had shown earlier paled in comparison to the fury that blazed in his eyes now. Savannah didn’t acknowledge his outburst. “Dinner’s in the Crock-Pot. Chili verde, your favorite.”

Grady stared at her, his mouth hanging open, as if he didn’t recognize her as his sister.

“I’ll have everything ready and on the table in ten minutes. Grady, would you be kind enough to show Laredo to the bunkhouse and ask Wiley to wash up?”

“This is Wiley’s poker night,” Grady muttered. “But I—”

“So it is,” she said, and headed up the porch steps and into the kitchen. Her heart pounced like a prairie rabbit’s at the approach of a hawk’s shadow. “Then there’ll just be the three of us.”

It didn’t take her long to set the table for dinner. When she heard the door swing open, she squared her shoulders, and turned to greet her brother and Laredo with a wide smile. “I hope you two had a chance to introduce yourselves.”

“We didn’t get around to exchanging pleasantries,” Grady snarled.

“Laredo, I hope you’ll forgive my brother,” she said, placing the warm tortillas on a plate. “It’s clear he isn’t in one of his more cordial moods.”

“Your brother?” The words slipped from Laredo’s lips in a low whisper of surprise.

“The two of us are equal partners in the Yellow Rose Ranch,” she said as a subtle way of reminding Grady that she’d had every right to hire Laredo.

Still grumbling under his breath, Grady pulled out a chair and reached for the blue-checked napkin.

“Can I help you with anything, Savannah?” Laredo asked, looking around for something to do.

“There’s a cold pitcher of lemonade in the refrigerator,” she said, hoping Grady realized it wouldn’t hurt him any to lend her a hand now and then. She tried not to be judgmental of her brother, but lately he’d grown so cranky and irritable. It was more than their perpetual money problems, she suspected, but whatever plagued him, he kept to himself. Savannah wished he’d be more open with her, share his troubles, but that wasn’t Grady’s way. Like their father he kept everything locked inside, preferring to carry the burden of his problems alone. Once again she wished he’d think about marriage. She had the perfect woman in mind.

* * *

Grady Weston was furious with his sister. He didn’t know what had come over her. It wasn’t like her to openly defy him, nor had he ever known her to pick up a hitchhiker. And never, not once in all these years, had she taken an active role in the management of the ranch. Yet in one single day, his levelheaded younger sister had not only gone against his express orders, she’d gone and hired him additional help. A stranger, no less!

Grady wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, heard it with his own ears. Savannah wasn’t herself. He frowned at Laredo Smith, instinctively distrusting him. One look told Grady the saddle bum was an outsider, a drifter. Not to be trusted. Yet Savannah had invited the man into their home and their lives like a long-lost relative—and offered him employment. The problem with Savannah could be reduced to one simple explanation. She couldn’t see the bad in people. She was just too damn trusting.

In spite of that, Grady had often admired Savannah for her common sense. But from all appearances, she’d lost every shred of good judgment she’d ever possessed. All within the space of a single day.

“I can’t remember when I’ve tasted better chili,” Laredo said, serving himself a second helping when Savannah passed him the bowl.

She lowered her gaze and Grady watched, amazed as color seeped into her cheeks. “I appreciate the compliment, but Nell Bishop’s the one who deserves the credit. It’s her recipe.”

“My compliments to Nell, then, and to you, too.”

Savannah’s blush deepened. If it wasn’t so pathetic, Grady might have rolled his eyes. The town was full of men who were interested in Savannah, but she hadn’t given one of them a lick of encouragement. Not a one. Then she happens on a complete stranger who doesn’t look like he’s got two dimes to call his own and she practically faints because he compliments her cooking!

Grady shoved his plate aside, appetite gone. His day had gone poorly. A calf had died after a desperate struggle to save its life, and he wasn’t sure the mother was going to make it, either. He’d had the vet out, and they’d done everything they could, but it didn’t look promising. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d found a break in the fence line. Luckily he’d been able to repair it before any of the herd had escaped.

The problems never ended. Day in and day out, he faced one crisis after another, each one heaped on top of all the others. He didn’t know what it was to laugh anymore, didn’t know what it was to spend a night in town drinking with his buddies. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d kissed a woman. In six years his life had boiled down to two things—work and worry.

It seemed a million years ago that he’d been young and carefree. Everything had changed for him—and for Savannah—in the course of an afternoon. The life he’d lived before they lost their parents was little more than a vague memory.

After a day like this the last thing he needed was for the one constant, the one sane sensible person in his life, to lose her bearings. Go loco on him. Grady glanced at Savannah and he felt his heart twist with sorrow, frustration, guilt. His sister was as lovely as those roses she cared so much about. She was still young and pretty, although she didn’t appear to realize that.

Grady hadn’t saved the ranch all on his own, nor was he the only one who’d dedicated his life to building back everything they’d lost. He couldn’t have done it without her. Savannah had found a hundred ways to encourage him, lighten his load, and he didn’t thank her nearly enough.

Regret settled in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t have laid into her the way he had when she got home, but damn it all, he’d been worried sick. It wasn’t like her to disappear and not tell him where she was going. In the past she’d always been conscientious about that, and with good reason.

Even though the risk of her encountering danger was slim, an accident could always happen. It had to his mother and father. Caught in a flash flood, they’d been swept away in a matter of moments and drowned. Never would he forget the day Sheriff Frank Hennessey had come to deliver the tragic news. So it wasn’t that Grady didn’t trust Savannah, but her disappearance that afternoon had brought back memories he wished he could forget.

But it was more than the memory of his parents’ accident that had distressed him. For three or four months now his sister had been asking him about the ghost town. In the beginning he’d answered her questions and hadn’t given her curiosity much thought, but when she persisted, he’d asked her a few questions of his own. That was when she mentioned the old roses. Damn fool woman was willing to risk her neck over something as...as unimportant as flowers. If that didn’t beat all, he didn’t know what did.

Grady had warned her plenty, not that it’d done any good. Hell, he couldn’t have found the abandoned frontier town again had he tried. The one and only time he’d ever stepped foot in Bitter End, he’d been about fifteen. Grady and the two Patterson brothers had overheard their parents talking about a ghost town somewhere up in the hills. Without their parents’ knowledge the boys had decided to go exploring, to find the place for themselves.

Grady and his friends had set out, thinking it all a grand adventure. As he recalled, they’d spent weeks looking, and when they finally stumbled on the ghost town, it’d spooked them so badly they’d never discussed that day again.

Grady didn’t believe in ghosts; he wasn’t a superstitious man. But the town was haunted by something he’d been too young to name or understand, something he didn’t fully comprehend even now. An unfamiliar sensation had descended on him that day, and not only him, but the others, too. He remembered the silence that had come over them, how they’d whispered to each other as if they were afraid someone could hear. He remembered a feeling of deep sadness and an ambiguous kind of threat. It hadn’t made sense then and made even less sense now.

What mattered was his sister, and Grady didn’t want her wandering around in the country alone in search of some half-dead flowers. Especially if it meant she was wandering around in Bitter End.

“Would you care for another helping?” Savannah asked Laredo, breaking into Grady’s thoughts.

Laredo planted his hands on his stomach and shook his head. “As delicious as it is, I don’t think I could manage another mouthful. As I said earlier, this is one of the best meals I’ve had in years. I hope your brother appreciates what a fine cook you are.”

Even from across the table Grady could feel Savannah’s pleasure at the other man’s remark. It sounded genuine, but Grady suspected Laredo Smith was a consummate con man, who knew a good thing when he saw it. It was clear to Grady, if no one else, that Laredo Smith was out to take advantage of his sister. Not that he had a raindrop’s chance in hell of doing so as long as Grady lived and breathed. The drifter could sweet-talk some other rancher’s sister. He’d get nowhere with Savannah; Grady would personally see to that.

“I’ll help with the dishes,” Laredo offered.

Grady resisted suggesting that Laredo was laying it on a little thick, but he was already out of Savannah’s good graces and she wouldn’t appreciate his sarcasm.

“I’ll do the dishes later,” Savannah said. “It’s more important that I take care of the roses.”

“I could help you with that,” he suggested next, and then, as if qualifying his statement, he added, “My grandmother let me help her.”

“That...that would be lovely.”

Grady couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen his sister this flustered.

Like a schoolboy eager to please his teacher, Laredo stood and carried his empty plate to the sink.

Grady couldn’t allow this to continue. It was time he set the other man straight. “Before this goes any further, you need to know, Mr. Smith, that there’s no work for you here.”

“Excuse me,” Savannah said, her voice rising, “but I was the one who hired Laredo.”

“I’ll be happy to drive you back into Promise myself,” Grady volunteered, ignoring his sister. “Would now be convenient?”

The two men glared at each other.

“Grady,” Savannah protested, but to no avail. He’d tuned her out, unwilling to listen to her arguments.

When she couldn’t attract his attention, Savannah tried reaching Laredo. She said his name, but he, too, ignored her, eyes locked with Grady’s. The silent battle of wills didn’t last long. Slowly Laredo’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded. “Now would be fine.”

Grady hadn’t expected him to capitulate this easily. If anything, he’d anticipated an argument. Laredo Smith was no fool. The way Savannah had fussed over him at dinner, blushed and made a general idiot of herself, there was no telling how much the drifter could take her for.

“I’ll get my saddle.”

“No!”

Savannah’s cry caught them both off guard. Grady’s attention flew to her, as did Laredo’s.

Her face was red and her hands had tightened into fists. “If you two had listened to me earlier, I could have cleared this up immediately.” She exhaled a long shaky breath. “I was the one who hired Laredo.”

“And I said I don’t need anyone just now,” Grady countered brusquely.

“I didn’t say I hired him to help you, Grady. Laredo Smith is working for me.”

Two

Laredo sat on the thin mattress and nursed his aching ribs. They hurt a little less now that the aspirin had had time to take effect. Without asking, Savannah had handed him the pills after dinner, as if she knew intuitively how uncomfortable he’d been. She continued to fascinate him, but it was abundantly clear that her big brother wasn’t keen on Laredo hanging around her. Not that Laredo blamed him. If Savannah was his sister, he’d keep a close eye on her, too.

Following dinner, they’d transplanted the old roses she’d found that day. Afterward she’d proudly walked him through the flower garden, telling him the names of various plants, describing their characteristics. She grew azaleas, rhododendrons and many others, some of which he’d never seen before. A hedge of sunflowers separated the flowers from a small herb garden. And then there were her roses.

As she led him down the narrow pathways of her rose garden, she stopped to tell him about each one. It was almost, he thought fancifully, as if she were introducing him to her children. Little pieces of her heart, planted and nourished in fertile ground. From the way her roses flourished, she’d obviously lavished them with love and care.

The rows of old roses were what impressed him most—but no less than Savannah’s knowledge of their histories. She was able to tell him where each one had come from and when it was first grown. Gesturing in her enthusiasm, she lost her large straw hat; Laredo stooped to pick it up. She smiled as he returned it, but didn’t interrupt her history of the Highway 290 Pink Buttons—small roses with double blossoms. Found in this part of Texas, she told him proudly. Her voice was full of reverence as she spoke of the inherent beauty of the old roses, their perfect scent, their ability to survive.

When they’d finished walking around the garden, she wrote out a list of tasks she had in mind for him. Laredo listened carefully, had her show him where he’d find the supplies he’d need and promised to get started first thing in the morning. He was eager to prove she hadn’t made a mistake by hiring him, and that her trust in him had been well placed. Saying it was one thing, but the proof was in the results.

In the morning, as soon as he finished dealing with his truck, he planned to be in that rose garden working his fool head off. It wasn’t wrangling, wasn’t what he knew best, but if he treated the roses with the same respect and appreciation he did a good quarter horse, then he’d do fine.

“Cowboy, you got everything you need?” A froggy male voice cut into Laredo’s musings, startling him. He swiveled around to find an older man standing just inside the large bunkhouse. Two rows of beds lined the floor—like an army barracks; at the other end was a door leading to the foreman’s private room.

“Wiley Rogers,” the foreman said.

“Laredo Smith. And yes, thanks, I’m fine for now. I have some stuff in my truck—clothes and such—but I can get those in the morning.” He stood and moved toward the man. They exchanged brusque handshakes.

Rogers had to be sixty if he was a day, with legs bowed from too many years in the saddle. “Hear you’re workin’ for Savannah,” he said with a friendly smile.

Laredo nodded.

The foreman chuckled and rubbed his unshaven jaw, eyeing Laredo carefully. Whatever his opinion, he was keeping it to himself. “If that don’t beat all,” he muttered, still grinning. “Never thought I’d see the day...”

“Beg your pardon?”

“It’s nothing,” Wiley said. After a moment’s reflection he revised his statement. “Actually it is something, but you wouldn’t understand. Nice meetin’ you, Laredo. You need anything else, just give me a holler.”

“Thanks, I will.” He sat back down on the bed as Wiley retired to his room and closed the door.

Once the lights were out, Laredo lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to claim him. He should’ve been dead to the world by now. He was exhausted. And for the first time in days the pain in his side had dulled. His belly was full and he had employment, of sorts. He didn’t know how long Savannah would find enough tasks to keep him busy, but he didn’t imagine this job would last more than a week or two.

As soon as he found out what was wrong with the truck and had it repaired, he’d hit the road. In hindsight, Earl Chesterton had done him a favor by firing him. Although it sure as hell dented his ego to lose that job, especially under those circumstances. His jaw tightened every time he thought about being accused of theft.

But he was determined to look at this as a blessing in disguise—what his grandmother would have called it. Finding himself unexpectedly jobless was just the incentive he needed to head back to Oklahoma and pursue his dream of breeding and selling quarter horses. After talking about it for years, he was actually going to do it. With the bitterness of being fired from the Triple C Ranch came the sweetness of this chance to live his dream. Even knowing it would mean years of sacrifice, the thought of being his own boss and living on his own land excited Laredo.

Intent on sleeping, he closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind. To his surprise a vivid image of Savannah appeared, clear as anything. He studied her a long while, this warm, gentle woman who’d come so fortuitously into his life. She was a comfortable person, and she possessed a kind heart. He liked Savannah Weston, but then it was impossible not to like her. In fact—even more than that—he found himself attracted to her. Strongly attracted.

It was years since a woman had captivated him the way Savannah had. She wasn’t like other women he’d known. He’d never felt relaxed or easy around the opposite sex, but Savannah brought out his every protective instinct. She was shy but genuine, and he liked that. He liked that a lot. Pretty, too, without being flashy. He sensed that despite her quiet unassuming manner she had courage and strength. She reminded him a bit of the frontier women he’d read about who’d helped tame the territory of Texas. Especially with those long dresses she wore.

Her brother, on the other hand, was another matter. Hardheaded, stubborn, suspicious. Laredo had taken exception to the way Grady spoke to his sister, but it wasn’t his place to get involved in their family affairs.

No, sir.

He’d work here while there was work to be had, get his truck back in good running order, then head for Oklahoma as soon as he could arrange it.

That would be the best thing for everyone. For the Westons and for him.

* * *

As she’d planned days before, Savannah drove into town the next morning. Her errand list seemed endless. Hardware store, library, the grocery. Finally she was hurrying toward the post office. Her last stop. She realized that the urgency to get back to the ranch had more to do with seeing Laredo again than with any task that waited for her. Anyone would think you were a schoolgirl! But she couldn’t help the way her heart reacted to the man.

The dinner she planned for that night was Grady’s favorite—chicken-fried steak, cream gravy and fresh green beans. A peace offering. He’d barely had a word for her all morning, but then he wasn’t communicative at the best of times. Still, there was no mistaking his anger. She’d felt his gaze following her in the kitchen this morning as she’d moved about, preparing breakfast. They’d carefully avoided each other’s eyes. Savannah seldom defied her brother, but Grady had left her no option.

Because she’d stood her ground, Laredo was staying. For some reason that made her happier than anything had in years.

Savannah purposely saved the post office till last, hoping Caroline Daniels, the postmistress, would have time to chat. Dovie Boyd, who owned the antique store and the Victorian Tea Room, was just leaving when Savannah pulled into the parking lot. They exchanged cheerful waves.

The interior of the post office was blessedly cool, and Savannah glanced toward the front counter, relieved to see no other patrons. Deciding to pick up her mail first, she found her postbox key and inserted it into the lock. The metal door swung open to reveal Caroline’s nose and brown eyes.

“Is it true?” the postmistress demanded.

“True?” Savannah blinked back her surprise at discovering Caroline’s face thrust at her though the small opening.

“I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are,” Savannah said.

“Then one would think you’d have told me about a handsome stranger working at the Yellow Rose.”

Savannah felt color explode in her face. Apparently word of her hiring Laredo had already spread through town. In less than twenty-four hours, too! How, she didn’t know—didn’t even want to know. This was the problem with living in a small town. Nothing was private. Unnerved, she closed the small door and twisted the key, locking it.

“Savannah!” came Caroline’s muffled voice.

Reluctantly Savannah unlocked the box and opened the door. “Who told you?” She withdrew the few envelopes from the box and thrust them into her bag.

“Ellie Frasier, and she said he’s cute, too.”

“Ellie met him?” Savannah asked. Ellie was the daughter of John Frasier, owner of the feed store. She was young and pretty, and she had a lively, fun-loving personality. More than once Savannah had hoped Grady would notice her, seeing as he made weekly trips to Frasier’s for grain and such. Savannah had hinted a couple of times that he needn’t rush home—that maybe he could invite Ellie out for coffee or a cold beer. Her suggestions had been met with a glare and a low growl that said he didn’t take kindly to her matchmaking efforts.