The Rancher

“I’d do that for you,” he replied. “You have one of the finest breeding herds I know of, which is why we buy so many of your young bulls.”

“Why, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You see, it’s looking out for our interests as well as yours. I can’t have a complex so close to my barns, or my purebred herd. The noise of construction would be bad enough, but the constant traffic would injure production.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.”

“Besides that, Lawson is unscrupulous. He’s got his fingers in lots of dirty pies. He’s had several brushes with the law, too.”

“I’m not surprised. He was a little scary.”

“Don’t you worry. If he comes back and makes any threat at all, you call over here. If you can’t find me, talk to Cort. He’ll take care of it.”

She hesitated. “Actually Cort isn’t speaking to me right now.”

There was a pause. “Because of the rooster?” His voice was almost smiling.

“Actually because I made a nasty crack about Odalie Everett,” she confessed heavily. “I didn’t mean to. He made me mad. I guess he was justified to complain. Pumpkin is really mean to him.”

“So I heard. That rooster has had brushes with several of our cowboys.” She could tell that he was trying not to laugh.

“The man who sold him to me said he was real gentle and wouldn’t hurt a fly. That’s sort of true. I’ve never seen Pumpkin hurt a fly.” She laughed. “Just people.”

“You need a gentle rooster, especially if you’re going to be selling eggs and baby chicks.”

“The baby chick operation is down the road, but I’m doing well with my egg business.”

“Glad to hear it. Our housekeeper wants to get on your customer list, by the way.”

“I’ll talk to her, and thanks!”

He chuckled. “My pleasure.”

“If Mr. Lawson comes back, I’ll let you know.”

“Please do. The man is trouble.”

“I know. Thanks again, Mr. Brannt. I feel better now.”

“Your dad was a friend of mine,” he said quietly. “I miss him. I know you do, too.”

“I miss him a lot,” she said. “But Great-Aunt Sadie and I are coping. It’s just this ranching thing,” she added miserably. “Dad was good at it, he had charts in the barn, he knew which traits to breed for, all that technical stuff. He taught me well, but I’m not as good as he was at it. Not at all. I like to paint and sculpt.” She hesitated. “Creative people shouldn’t have to breed cattle!” she burst out.

He laughed. “I hear you. Listen, suppose I send Cort over there to help you with the genetics? He’s even better at it than I am. And I’m good. No conceit, just fact.”

She laughed, too. “You really are. We read about your bulls in the cattle journals.” She paused. “I don’t think Cort would come.”

“He’ll come.” He sounded certain of it. “He needs something to take his mind off that woman. She’s a sweet girl, in her way, but she’s got some serious growing up to do. She thinks the world revolves around her. It doesn’t.”

“She’s just been a little spoiled, I think.” She tried to be gracious.

“Rotten,” he replied. “My kids never were.”

“You and Mrs. Brannt did a great job with yours. And John Everett is a really nice man. So the Everetts did a great job there, too.” She didn’t mention the second Everett son, Tanner. The Everetts never spoke about him. Neither did anyone else. He was something of a mystery man. But gossip was that he and his dad didn’t get along.

“They did a great job on John, for sure.” He let out a breath. “I just wish Cort would wake up. Odalie is never going to settle in a small community. She’s meant for high society and big cities. Cort would die in a high-rise apartment. He’s got too much country in him, although he’d jump at the chance if Odalie would offer him one. Just between us,” he added quietly, “I hope she doesn’t. If she makes it in opera, and I think she can, what would Cort do with himself while she trained and performed? He’d be bored out of his mind. He doesn’t even like opera. He likes country-western.”

“He plays it very well,” Maddie said softly. “I loved coming to the barbecue at your place during the spring sale and hearing him sing. It was nice of you to invite all of us. Even old Ben. He was over the moon.”

He laughed. “You’re all neighbors. I know you think of Ben as more family than employee. His family has worked for your family for four generations.”

“That’s a long time,” she agreed. “I’m not selling my place,” she added firmly. “No matter what that fancy Las Vegas man does.”

“Good for you. I’ll help you make sure of that. I’ll send Cort on over.”

“He’s back from visiting his sister?” she stammered.

“Yes. Got back yesterday. They went trout fishing.”

She sighed. “I’d love to go trout fishing.”

“Cort loves it. He said they did close the trout streams for fishing a couple of days after he and Dana—Morie, I mean, went. The heat makes it impossible. “

“That’s true.” She hesitated. “Why do you call Morie Dana?” she blurted out.

He laughed. “When Shelby was carrying them, we called them Matt and Dana. Those were the names we picked out. Except that two of our friends used those names for theirs and we had to change ours. It got to be a habit, though, until the kids were adolescents.

“Hey, Cort,” she heard King call, his hand covering the receiver so his voice was a little muffled.

“Yes, Dad?” came the reply.

“I want you to go over to the Lane place and give Maddie some help with her breeding program.”

“The hell I will!” Cort burst out.

The hand over the phone seemed to close, because the rest of it was muffled. Angry voices, followed by more discussion, followed like what seemed a string of horrible curses from Cort.

King came back on the line. “He said he’d be pleased to come over and help,” he lied. “But he did ask if you’d shut your rooster up first.” He chuckled.

“I’ll put him in the chicken house right now.” She tried not to sound as miserable as she felt. She knew Cort didn’t want to help her. He hated her. “And thank you again.”

“You’re very welcome. Call us if you need help with Lawson. Okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

True to his father’s words, Cort drove up in front of the house less than an hour later. He wasn’t slamming doors or scattering chickens this time, either. He looked almost pleasant. Apparently his father had talked to him very firmly.

Maddie had combed her hair and washed her face. She still wasn’t going to win any beauty contests. She had on her nicest jeans and a pink T-shirt that said La Vie en Rose.

It called attention, unfortunately, to breasts that were small and pert instead of big and tempting. But Cort was looking at her shirt with his lips pursed.

“The world through rose-colored glasses?” he mused.

“You speak French.”

“Of course. French, Spanish and enough German to get me arrested in Munich. We do cattle deals all over the world,” he added.

“Yes, I remember.” She swallowed, hard, recalling the things he’d said at their last unfortunate meeting. “Your father said you could help me figure out Dad’s breeding program.”

“I think so. I helped him work up the new one before he passed away,” he added quietly. “We were all shocked by how fast it happened.”

“So were we,” Maddie confessed. “Two months from the time he was diagnosed until he passed on.” She drew in a long breath. “He hated tests, you know. He wouldn’t go to the doctor about anything unless he was already at death’s door. I think the doctor suspected something, but Dad just passed right over the lecture about tests being necessary and walked out. By the time they diagnosed the cancer, it was too late for anything except radiation. And somebody said that they only did that to help contain the pain.” Her pale eyes grew sad. “It was terrible, the pain. At the last, he was so sedated that he hardly knew me. It was the only way he could cope.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I haven’t lost parents, but I lost both my grandparents. They were wonderful people. It was hard to let them go.”

“Life goes on,” she said quietly. “Everybody dies. It’s just a matter of how and when.”

“True.”

She swallowed. “Dad kept his chalkboard in the barn, and his books in the library, along with his journals. I’ve read them all, but I can’t make sense of what he was doing. I’m not college educated, and I don’t really know much about animal husbandry. I know what I do from watching Dad.”

“I can explain it to you.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

She turned and led the way to the house.

“Where’s that...rooster?” he asked.

“Shut up in the henhouse with a fan.”

“A fan?” he exclaimed and burst out laughing.

“It really isn’t funny,” she said softly. “I lost two of my girls to the heat. Found them dead in the henhouse, trying to lay. I had Ben go and get us a fan and install it there. It does help with the heat, a little at least.”

“My grandmother used to keep hens,” he recalled. “But we only have one or two now. Foxes got the rest.” He glanced at her. “Andie, our housekeeper, wants to get on your egg customer list for two dozen a week.”

She nodded. “Your dad mentioned that. I can do that. I’ve got pullets that should start laying soon. My flock is growing by leaps and bounds.” She indicated the large fenced chicken yard, dotted with all sorts of chickens. The henhouse was huge, enough to accommodate them all, complete with perches and ladders and egg boxes and, now, a fan.

“Nice operation.”

“I’m going to expand it next year, if I do enough business.”

“Did you check the law on egg production?”

She laughed. “Yes, I did. I’m in compliance. I don’t have a middleman, or I could be in trouble. I sell directly to the customer, so it’s all okay.”

“Good.” He shrugged, his hands in his jean pockets. “I’d hate to have to bail you out of jail.”

“You wouldn’t,” she sighed.

He stopped and looked down at her. She seemed so dejected. “Yes, I would,” he said, his deep voice quiet and almost tender as he studied her small frame, her short wavy blond hair, her wide, soft gray eyes. Her complexion was exquisite, not a blemish on it except for one small mole on her cheek. She had a pretty mouth, too. It looked tempting. Bow-shaped, soft, naturally pink...

“Cort?” she asked suddenly, her whole body tingling, her heart racing at the way he was staring at her mouth.

“What? Oh. Yes. The breeding books.” He nodded. “We should get to it.”

“Yes.” She swallowed, tried to hide her blush and opened the front door.

Chapter Three

Maddie couldn’t help but stare at Cort as he leaned over the desk to read the last page of her father’s breeding journal. He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. And that physique! He was long and lean, but also muscular. Broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, and in the opening of his chambray shirt, thick curling black hair peeked out.

She’d never been overly interested in intimacy. Never having indulged, she had no idea how it felt, although she’d been reading romance novels since her early teens. She did know how things worked between men and women from health class. What she didn’t know was why women gave in to men. She supposed it came naturally.

Cort felt her eyes on him and turned, so that he was looking directly into her wide, shocked gray eyes. His own dark ones narrowed. He knew that look, that expression. She was trying to hide it, but he wasn’t fooled.

“Take a picture,” he drawled, because her interest irritated him. She wasn’t his type. Not at all.

Her reaction shamed him. She looked away, cleared her throat and went beet-red. “Sorry,” she choked. “I was just thinking. You were sort of in the way. I was thinking about my fairies...”

He felt guilty. That made him even more irritable. “What fairies?”

She stumbled and had to catch herself as she went past him. She was so embarrassed she could hardly even walk.

She went to the shelf where she’d put the newest one. Taking it down very carefully, she carried it to the desk and put it in front of him.

He caught his breath. He picked it up, delicately for a man with such large, strong hands, and held it up to his eyes. He turned it. He was smiling. “This is really beautiful,” he said, as if it surprised him. He glanced at her. “You did this by yourself?”

She moved uneasily. “Yes,” she muttered. What did he think—that she had somebody come in and do the work so she could claim credit for it?

“I didn’t mean it like that, Maddie,” he said gently. The sound of her name on his lips made her tingle. She didn’t dare look up, because her attraction to him would surely show. He knew a lot more about women than she knew about men. He could probably tell already that she liked him. It had made him mad. So she’d have to hide it.

“Okay,” she said. But she still wouldn’t look up.

He gave the beautiful little statuette another look before he put it down very gently on the desk. “You should be marketing those,” he said firmly. “I’ve seen things half as lovely sell for thousands of dollars.”

“Thousands?” she exclaimed.

“Yes. Sometimes five figures. I was staying at a hotel in Arizona during a cattlemen’s conference and a doll show was exhibiting at the same hotel. I talked to some of the artists.” He shook his head. “It’s amazing how much collectors will pay for stuff like that.” He indicated the fairy with his head. “You should look into it.”

She was stunned. “I never dreamed people would pay so much for a little sculpture.”

“Your paintings are nice, too,” he admitted. “My mother loves the drawing you did. She bought it at that art show last year. She said you should be selling the sculptures, too.”

“I would. It’s just that they’re like my children,” she confessed, and flushed because that sounded nutty. “I mean...well, it’s hard to explain.”

“Each one is unique and you put a lot of yourself into it,” he guessed. “So it would be hard to sell one.”

“Yes.” She did look up then, surprised that he was so perceptive.

“You have the talent. All you need is the drive.”

“Drive.” She sighed. She smiled faintly. “How about imminent starvation? Does that work for drive?”

He laughed. “We wouldn’t let you starve. Your bull calves are too valuable to us,” he added, just when she thought he might actually care.

“Thanks,” she said shyly. “In that journal of Dad’s—” she changed the subject “—he talks about heritability traits for lean meat with marbling to produce cuts that health-conscious consumers will buy. Can you explain to me how I go about producing herd sires that carry the traits we breed for?”

He smiled. “It’s complicated. Want to take notes?”

She sighed. “Just like going back to school.” Then she remembered school, and the agonies she went through in her junior and senior years because of Odalie Everett, and her face clenched.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

She swallowed. She almost said what was wrong. But she’d been down that road with him already, making comments she shouldn’t have made about Odalie. She wasn’t going to make him mad. Not now, when he was being pleasant and helpful.

“Nothing. Just a stray thought.” She smiled. “I’ll get some paper and a pencil.”

* * *

After a half hour she put down the pencil. “It’s got to be like learning to speak Martian,” she muttered.

He laughed out loud. “Listen, I didn’t come into the world knowing how this stuff worked, either. I had to learn it, and if my dad hadn’t been a patient man, I’d have jumped off a cliff.”

“Your dad is patient?” she asked, and couldn’t help sounding surprised.

“I know he’s got a reputation for being just the opposite. But he really is patient. I had a hard time with algebra in high school. He’d take me into the office every night and go over problems with me until I understood how to do them. He never fussed, or yelled, or raised his voice. And I was a problem child.” He shook his head. “I’m amazed I got through my childhood in one piece. I’ve broken half the bones in my body at some point, and I know my mother’s gray hairs are all because of me. Morie was a little lady. She never caused anybody any trouble.”

“I remember,” Maddie said with a smile. “She was always kind to me. She was a couple of years ahead of me, but she was never snobby.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “There’s a hidden comment in there.”

She flushed. “I didn’t mention anybody else.”

“You meant Odalie,” he said. “She can’t help being beautiful and rich and talented,” he pointed out. “And it wasn’t her fault that her parents put her in public school instead of private school, where she might have been better treated.”

“Better treated.” She glared at him. “Not one teacher or administrator ever had a bad word to say about her, even though she bullied younger girls mercilessly and spent most of her time bad-mouthing people she didn’t like. One year she had a party for our whole class, at the ranch. She invited every single girl in the class—except me.”

Cort’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure it wasn’t intentional.”

“My father went to see her father, that’s how unintentional it was,” she replied quietly. “When Cole Everett knew what she’d done to me, he grounded her for a month and took away her end-of-school trip as punishment.”

“That seems extreme for not inviting someone to a party,” he scoffed.

“I guess that’s because you don’t know about the other things she did to me,” she replied.

“Let me guess—she didn’t send you a Valentine’s Day card, either,” he drawled in a tone that dripped sarcasm.

She looked at him with open sadness. “Sure. That’s it. I held a grudge because she didn’t send me a holiday card and my father went to see the school principal and Odalie’s father because he liked starting trouble.”

Cort remembered her father. He was the mildest, most forgiving man anywhere around Branntville. He’d walk away from a fight if he could. The very fact that he got involved meant that he felt there was more than a slight problem.

But Cort loved Odalie, and here was this bad-

tempered little frump making cracks about her, probably because she was jealous.

“I guess if you don’t have a real talent and you aren’t as pretty, it’s hard to get along with someone who has it all,” he commented.

Her face went beet-red. She stood up, took her father’s journal, closed it and put it back in the desk drawer. She faced him across the width of the desk.

“Thank you for explaining the journal to me,” she said in a formal tone. “I’ll study the notes I took very carefully.”

“Fine.” He started to leave, hesitated. He turned and looked back at her. He could see an unusual brightness in her eyes. “Look, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just, well, you don’t know Odalie. She’s sweet and kind, she’d never hurt anybody on purpose.”

“I don’t have any talent, I’m ugly and I lie.” She nodded. “Thanks.”

“Hell, I never said you lied!”

She swallowed. Loud voices and curses made her nervous. She gripped the edge of the desk.

“Now what’s wrong?” he asked angrily.

She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said quickly.

He took a sudden, quick step toward her. She backed up, knocked over the desk chair and almost fell again getting it between him and herself. She was white in the face.

He stopped in his tracks. His lips fell open. In all his life, he’d never seen a woman react that way.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, but not in a loud or menacing tone.

She swallowed. “Nothing. Thanks for coming over.”

He scowled. She looked scared to death.

Great-Aunt Sadie had heard a crash in the room. She opened the door gingerly and looked in. She glanced from Maddie’s white face to Cort’s drawn one. “Maddie, you okay?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes flicking back and forth to Cort’s as if she, too, was uneasy.

“I’m fine. I just...knocked the chair over.” She laughed, but it was a nervous, quick laugh. “Cort was just leaving. He gave me lots of information.”

“Nice of him,” Sadie agreed. She moved closer to Maddie, as if prepared to act as a human shield if Cort took another step toward the younger woman. “Good night, Cort.”

He wanted to know what was wrong. It was true he’d said some mean things, but the fear in Maddie’s eyes, and the looks he was getting, really disturbed him. He moved to the door, hesitated. “If you need any more help...” he began.

“I’ll call. Sure. Thanks for offering.” Maddie’s voice sounded tight. She was standing very still. He was reminded forcibly of deer’s eyes in headlights.

“Well, I’ll get on home. Good night.”

“Night,” Maddie choked out.

He glanced from one woman to the other, turned and pulled the door closed behind him.

Maddie almost collapsed into the chair. Tears were running down her cheeks. Great-Aunt Sadie knelt beside the chair and pulled her close, rocking her. “There, there, it’s all right. He’s gone. What happened?”

“I mentioned about Odalie not inviting me to the party and he said I was just jealous of her. I said something, I don’t...remember what, and he started toward me, all mad and impatient...” She closed her eyes, shivering. “I can’t forget. All those years ago, and I still can’t forget!”

“Nobody ever told Cort just what Odalie did to you, did they?”

“Apparently not,” Maddie said heavily. She wiped her eyes. “Her dad made her apologize, but I know she never regretted it.” She drew in a breath. “I told her that one day somebody was going to pay her back for all the mean things she did.” She looked up. “Cort thinks she’s a saint. If he only knew what she’s really like...”

“It wouldn’t matter,” the older woman said sadly. “Men get hooked on a pretty face and they’d believe white was black if the woman told them it was. He’s infatuated, baby. No cure for that but time.”

“I thought he was so sexy.” Maddie laughed. She brushed at her eyes again. “Then he lost his temper like that. He scared me,” she said on a nervous smile.

“It’s all right. Nobody’s going to hurt you here. I promise.”

She hugged the older woman tight. “Thanks.”

“At the time, that boy did apologize, and he meant it,” Sadie reminded her. “He was as much a victim as you were.”

“Yes, but he got in trouble and he should have. No man, even an angry young one with justification, should ever do what he did to a girl. He didn’t have nightmares for a month, either, did he, or carry emotional scars that never go away? Sad thing about him,” she added quietly, “he died overseas when a roadside bomb blew up when he was serving in the Middle East. With a temper like that, I often wondered what he might do to a woman if he got even more upset than he was at me that time.”

“No telling. And just as well we don’t have to find out.” Her face hardened. “But you’re right about that Odalie girl. Got a bad attitude and no compassion for anybody. One of these days, life is going to pay her out in her own coin. She’ll be sorry for the things she’s done, but it will be too late. God forgives,” she added. “But there’s a price.”

“What’s that old saying, ‘God’s mill grinds slowly, but relentlessly’?”

“Something like that. Come on. I’ll make you a nice cup of hot coffee.”

“Make that a nice cup of hot chocolate instead,” Maddie said. “I’ve had a rough day and I want to go to bed.”

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