Cowboy Come Home Page 2

  Four ranches in two years; five if you considered he’d hit Big Verde twice. He didn’t have many belongings, so packing up and heading out was easy. It was just him; his trusty adopted wild mustang, Coco, who he’d broken himself; and Oscar.

  Of all the ranches he’d worked, Rancho Cañada Verde was the finest. It wasn’t the biggest or the fanciest, but it was the gem of the Texas Hill Country, and Gerome Kowalski was a rancher any cowboy would be proud to work for. Nevertheless, Ford had been very firm with Gerome about this stint as ranch foreman being temporary. He’d committed to a roundup in West Texas in six weeks.

  He didn’t like staying in one place for too long.

  There was something about the newness and excitement of going from ranch to ranch that agreed with him. And he liked leaving folks behind while he could still tolerate them, before they’d had much of a chance to wear on his nerves. He especially enjoyed knowing that the ones who did wear on his nerves would soon be nothing more than an image in his rearview mirror.

  Six weeks. Surely, he could last that long. All he had to do was keep his mind, eyes, and hands off Claire Kowalski, aka the rancher’s daughter.

  How hard could it be?

  He swallowed. Twelve thousand acres wasn’t that big. And he and Claire had a history together that involved their clothes falling off any time they were within ten feet of each other.

  She’d been nowhere to be seen when he’d visited Gerome’s office at the ranch house earlier. Beau—the rattlesnake slayer and resident busybody—told him that Claire had moved out of the ranch house and into a silly little Airstream trailer practically within spitting distance of the foreman’s cabin. Well, maybe not spitting distance. Ford couldn’t see Claire or her little tin can from here.

  He swore he could feel her, though.

  That tug. Whenever he thought about Claire—and he’d thought about her plenty over the past two years—it was as if someone was yanking on an invisible band attached to his midsection. The first time it had happened, he’d thought he was having a damn heart attack.

  He was used to it now. The feeling kind of went along with the other chronic aches and pains of cowpunching.

  Had he fallen in love with Claire?

  Maybe.

  Was the condition permanent?

  Most definitely not.

  Jarvis men didn’t fall in love and stay that way.

  The Jarvis curse.

  Some of the men in his family took it seriously. As in, they literally believed in a curse. His family’s colorful history included a story about Ford’s great-grandfather messing with the wrong bruja.

  Ford didn’t believe in witches, Mexican or otherwise, and he found the idea of a curse to be utterly ridiculous. But whether it was the result of a bruja or a family disposition, the fact remained that Jarvis men were cursed with being incapable of settling down. And when they tried, bad luck always came knocking.

  Ford’s dad, Johnny Jarvis, was a retired rodeo bull rider who’d earned the nickname Johnny Appleseed because he’d fathered nine kids with eight women. All of them, except for Ford, were named for the cities they were born in.

  There was his oldest brother, Dallas, who’d been only two when their dad had met a woman in San Antonio, which resulted in Tony. Two years later, he’d met and married his “real” soul mate in Laredo, producing Larry. Like clockwork, it was two more years before a pretty little rodeo queen—Ford’s mom—attracted Johnny’s attention in Dallas.

  Nine months later, Ford was born. And since there was already a Dallas in the family, he’d been named for the literal place of his conception, the backseat of a Ford Fairmont.

  That union lasted the longest, and in two years the little family had moved to Abilene, where Abby, Ford’s only full sibling, was born. After his parents’ divorce, Ford gained four more half-siblings: Houston, Austin, Odessa, and Worth (they’d left off the “Fort”), who was the baby of the family.

  Spreading “seed” here, there, and everywhere wasn’t a lifestyle Ford aspired to, and he was disappointed that some of his brothers had already followed in their father’s footsteps.

  Curses were hard to break.

  Nobody knew if Jarvis women were afflicted with the same curse. Odessa was twenty-two and seemed hell-bent on independence. And Abby had died when she was only ten years old.

  She’d drowned in a creek when a flash flood had come out of nowhere.

  Ford was supposed to have been watching her. And he had been. Just moments before…

  That’s why they called it a flash flood.

  Lightning lit the sky again, and the rain picked up. A shiver ran up and down Ford’s spine. Wailing Woman Creek felt a little too close for comfort.

  Chapter Two

  Claire stamped her feet on Maggie’s muddy welcome mat and hesitated briefly before knocking on the door. It was nine thirty—possibly too late to show up unannounced on her best friend’s doorstep—but the gate to Happy Trails ranch had been open, and if Claire didn’t vent to someone, she was going to erupt.

  She felt like giving up. Maybe it was time to stop searching for Prince Charming since all she could find were frogs and toads—and since this was Texas, most of the toads were horny.

  With comedic timing, a toad hopped out from behind an overturned cowboy boot nestled in the corner of the porch. Claire stifled a squeal, but her pulse raced like the engine of her shiny new car. She raised an eyebrow at the toad as he hopped away, blissfully unaware of how close he’d just come to being impaled by a stiletto heel.

  She started to knock on the door again when she clearly heard laughter coming from inside the house. She tried the knob. It turned, so she pushed the door open a few inches and hollered, “Knock, knock! Anybody home?”

  “In here!” Maggie shouted.

  Claire walked past the staircase to the den, where Maggie was doubled over in laughter. Her husband, rancher Travis Blake, was sitting on the couch with his head between his knees. Alice Martin, the town’s librarian, hovered by the coffee table while clutching a book to her chest. Her brown eyes were wide with concern. “I’m so sorry, Travis,” she said.

  Claire couldn’t possibly imagine what Alice needed to apologize for. “I thought you were going to stop saying you’re sorry all the time,” she said.

  “In this case, I need to,” Alice said. “Poor Travis!”

  “I don’t care about people saying they’re sorry,” Travis said, lifting his head from between his knees. “But I could do without the poor Travis business.”

  He was as pale as an oyster, or as at least as pale as someone who’d just eaten one and hadn’t much cared for it.

  Maggie straightened up, cheeks still pink from laughing. “Alice, all you did was bring over some pregnancy books. It’s not your fault that Travis opened one up and had a fit.”

  Maggie, who was about four months pregnant, looked like she might laugh again.

  “This one is about labor and delivery,” Alice said to Claire, squeezing the book even more tightly, as if it housed an evil entity. “And look what it did to poor…” She winced. “Sorry.” Then she stomped her foot, causing her ponytail to swing frantically. “Dang it!”

  Maggie ruffled Travis’s hair. “And to think that just this morning Travis bragged to the doctor about how prepared he is for the birth because he’s”—Maggie made air quotes with her fingers—“pulled plenty of calves.”

  “Oh dear,” Alice said.

  Claire gasped. “Travis Blake, you did not compare childbirth to pulling calves.”

  Travis stood up, a slight bit of color returning to his cheeks. “It’s actually very similar, according to that damn book,” he said. “More similar than I was expecting.”

  He looked at Maggie and went a tad pale again. Maggie leaned into him and rose up on her toes, an act that didn’t do much to add to her five feet and two inches of height. With her short hair and small stature, she looked like a little blond pixie. But she was tough as nails.

  �
��I’m not the first woman to give birth,” she said softly while stroking Travis’s cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

  Travis sighed. “I know. And I’ll be there for you.” He swallowed audibly and gave Maggie a squeeze. “Always.”

  This. This is why Claire hadn’t given up on finding her own Prince Charming.

  “You ladies shouldn’t stick around too long,” Travis said, letting go of Maggie and heading for the stairs. “We’re in for a downpour.”

  As if on cue, it started to rain again.

  “I’m not staying long,” Claire said.

  Travis furrowed his brow. “There are two low-water crossings between here and Rancho Cañada Verde.”

  Travis was right. And once Claire got onto her family’s ranch, she’d have to go through another one to get to Miss Daisy. But she wasn’t stupid, and she knew how to take care of herself. She’d driven in the rain a million times.

  Seven-year-old Henry appeared at the top of the stairs. “Dad, I’m scared.”

  Travis was Henry’s uncle, but he and Maggie had adopted him when he was six years old. Soon, a baby girl would be joining their little family.

  “I’m coming, buddy. We’ll count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder.”

  Claire’s heart started to melt as she watched Travis ascend the stairs, and it didn’t stop melting until it came to the tiny, frozen nugget of jealousy in the center.

  She wanted this. Or some version of it, anyway. She was the freaking “Cupid” of Big Verde. If it weren’t for her, Maggie and Travis wouldn’t even be together. Why couldn’t she find someone for herself?

  She’d turn thirty later this year. According to a book Alice had shared with her, only twelve percent of her eggs remained viable. What was the point of being the sole heir of a ranching empire if the empire would die with her?

  “Come and sit for a few minutes,” Maggie said, pointing at the couch. “How did your date go?”

  Claire sighed and sat. Something sharp poked her in the butt, and she yanked a toy tractor out from between the couch cushions.

  “Sorry,” Maggie said, snatching it up. “Tell us everything. Was there spray-on hair involved? Did he have red wine trapped in his Invisalign braces?”

  Claire shivered. She’d encountered both of those situations on previous Sizzle dates.

  “His name was Chad, and he sells respiratory equipment to hospitals.”

  Maggie shuddered. “How dreadful.”

  Claire nodded in agreement. “Chad likes sushi and fine wine, and he’s super smart. I know he’s super smart because he told me so. And he does CrossFit.”

  “Of course dudebro does CrossFit,” Maggie said, nodding.

  “Maybe you need to stop trying to hook up with city slickers and stick closer to home,” Alice suggested. “It doesn’t seem like you’ve had much in common with any of your Sizzle dates.”

  Claire wanted to point out that she didn’t see Alice dating any local Big Verde guys, but she wasn’t sure Alice ever dated anyone. She was cute, smart, and independent. And she seemed perfectly content to remain that way. Claire, however, wanted what her parents had, and what Maggie and Travis seemed to have. And she wanted it yesterday. Was that asking too much?

  As if Maggie had read her mind, she said, “A watched pot never boils, Claire. Maybe if you stop trying so hard—”

  Claire sighed. “I’ve dated every single man in Big Verde, and none of them have tickled my fancy.”

  “If I remember correctly,” Maggie said with an impish grin, “Ford Jarvis tickled it three times in one night.”

  Alice gasped. “Really? Three times?”

  Claire’s cheeks heated up. Yes, three times. But sex was all Mr. Fancy-Tickler cared about. It was probably why he was so dang good at it.

  Alice stood and headed for the door. “I’m going to ruminate on that when I’m in bed tonight.”

  “Heading out?” Maggie asked.

  “Yes. I’ve got a library board meeting in the morning. I need to hit the sack.”

  Maggie started to rise.

  “I can let myself out,” Alice said. “You sit tight.”

  Maggie sank back into the chair and rested her arms on her belly, even though her baby bump was barely visible. “Maybe I’ll bring Henry to story time. He really loves it.”

  “Isn’t he getting a little old for that?” Claire asked.

  “Nobody is ever too old for once upon a time,” Alice said.

  Claire wondered if they got too old for a happily-ever-after.

  With a little wave, Alice headed out the door.

  “I should probably get going too—”

  “Wait a minute,” Maggie said. “I have something to discuss with you.”

  Claire leaned back against the cushion. “What is it?”

  “You know how busy I’ve been with landscaping projects lately.”

  Claire nodded. Maggie was a landscape architect.

  “And Happy Trails is taking off. Our website orders have doubled within the last six months, and our calendar is booked solid with field trips and tours.”

  Happy Trails, the small ranch Maggie and Travis owned, raised organic poultry, pork, and beef, which they sold directly to consumers. They also had bees and an apple orchard.

  “I don’t know how you’re finding the time to grow a human.”

  “Me either. I feel pulled in a million different directions, and the baby isn’t even here yet.” She paused for a moment and took a sip from a water bottle on the coffee table. Then she focused her big brown eyes on Claire. “I need to prioritize.”

  Claire nodded. She completely understood. How had Maggie been holding it all together?

  “First is my family. And next is my landscape architecture business.”

  “Of course,” Claire said. “You worked long and hard for that degree, and you’ve built something to be proud of. What more can I do to help you with the rest?”

  Maggie cleared her throat and dropped her gaze to her pregnant belly. She was clearly nervous, and that made Claire nervous, because Maggie was almost never nervous.

  “Claire, I’ve decided to sell Petal Pushers.”

  It took a few moments for the words to connect in her brain. Had she heard Maggie correctly? “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “I just can’t keep it,” Maggie said.

  “But you inherited it from your grandmother! And it’s…”

  Where I work.

  “I know,” Maggie said, biting her lip.

  Claire felt selfish, but all she could think about was herself. What would she do without Petal Pushers? It was the hub of her world. Heck, along with the Corner Cafe, it was the social hub of Big Verde.

  But she understood Maggie’s predicament. She was only human, after all.

  “I hate to let it go,” Maggie said. “It’s been keeping me up at night. That’s why I was thinking that maybe you’d like to buy it.”

  Claire felt her mouth drop open. “Me? Buy Petal Pushers?”

  The idea sank in with incredible speed, and by the time Maggie started to speak again, Claire’s mind had changed the question into an exclamatory sentence.

  She was buying Petal Pushers!

  “You wouldn’t have to keep it as a garden center,” Maggie said. “The possibilities are endless. A boutique. Or a gift shop maybe. It doesn’t matter, because I swear you could sell a bicycle to a legless man.”

  Claire’s imagination started humming.

  “It’s already such a sweet little country shop,” she said. “And there’s so much room. What could I do with the outdoor nursery? A patio, maybe. Or a tearoom…”

  Suddenly, Claire’s lame Sizzle date was ancient history. Her body tingled. Her mind raced. Her despair had been replaced with a sense of purpose.

  A loud clap of thunder made them jump.

  The skies opened up, and the rain clattered so loudly on the roof that Claire barely heard the pounding of Travis’s feet on the stairs as he came rushing dow
n.

  “Claire,” he said, adopting a stern fatherly expression that went adorably well with the Little Red Riding Hood book in his hand. “If you don’t leave right now, you’re going to have to stay the night. I don’t like the weather, and you’ve got those two low-water crossings…”

  Three, actually.

  Claire hated to leave now. She wanted to scheme and plan with Maggie. But Travis was right. She didn’t dare stay another minute.

  “Yes, Dad,” she said, throwing in an eye roll. “Leaving now.”

  “We’ll talk later,” Maggie said. “Be careful driving home.”

  Claire hugged Maggie and grabbed her umbrella from the porch on her way out. She popped it open and ran to her car, barely feeling the rain that battered her unprotected legs. Her mind was going a mile a minute, which was probably faster than she was going to be able to drive in this weather.

  * * *

  Ford sighed and shifted in his seat. That damn tugging sensation had become worse ever since his boots had hit Rancho Cañada Verde’s soil. He should have turned this gig down. But it was hard to say no to Gerome Kowalski, especially since he’d sounded just a hair shy of desperate.

  Another glance at the weather radar showed a threatening cloud of red and hot pink just to the north, and it was headed straight for Big Verde. If they got a downpour, Wailing Woman Creek would swell, and the crossing would be under water. That meant he’d be cut off from the rest of the ranch until the water receded. As would the other two inhabitants this side of the creek—a hermit named Ruben, and Claire.

  Ford’s right eye twitched. His thumb hovered over his phone. Don’t do it, dipshit.

  He did it. Clicked on the Sizzle dating app and logged in. Because yes, he had a fucking login for a fucking online dating site. Hell, he’d never used any form of social media. Had snubbed it, in fact. And here he was with a Sizzle profile. A password, username, the whole nine yards. It was embarrassing, and he wasn’t even looking for a date. But he couldn’t see Claire’s profile if he didn’t have one of his own.