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“Leave the other guys to me.” He wasn’t exactly confident in his ability to lead this team of drovers, but if he could bridge the gap with Dakota, it would be a step in the right direction.
“So, what are the plans?” she asked.
“It’s four days in total. I haven’t done this particular ride before. It’s to the far side of what used to be the Vaughn ranch. We’re driving back four hundred head, so it’s no small job.”
Dakota nodded. “When do we start?”
“Monday morning.”
“Okay, I’ll be here bright and early.” She rose to her feet and turned toward the door. Her jeans fit her nicely and he found himself having to pull his eyes away from admiring her shape.
“Dakota—”
“Yeah?” She turned back, brown eyes drilling into him, and he felt the urge to squirm.
This was the hard part—this was where he had to reveal that he needed help—and his stomach tightened. He didn’t like admitting weakness, but needed an outside opinion, and she was the most qualified person in the room.
“You sold Chet some horses last spring,” he said.
“What of it?” She raked a hand through her hair.
“I need to choose my horse for this drive, and I thought you might have some advice.” More than advice. Dakota was something of a horse whisperer, able to calm even the most spirited animal, and while he knew she didn’t much like him at the moment, he did trust her instincts. There was a horse he’d warmed up to over the last couple of days—Romeo. Chet thought Romeo wasn’t ready for a cattle drive, but there was just something about that horse that Andy couldn’t dismiss. Maybe he and Romeo were alike—not exactly ready but still perfectly capable. He wanted Dakota’s take on it. Maybe she’d see something Chet hadn’t.
When Dakota didn’t answer right away, he added, “I know I’m not in the best position to ask you any personal favors, but it’s been a long time since I worked a ranch, and Chet is counting on me to take care of things. Once I’m done this job, I’ll go away and never bother you again. That’s a promise.”
She sighed. “Do you have time now? I’d need to see the horses again to see where they’re at. They all needed work when they left my stables.”
Andy shot her a grin and rose. “You bet. I have an hour until my interview with another potential drover.”
“Who?” She frowned.
“Harley Webb. Heard of him?”
She shook her head. “No. He from around here?”
“Doesn’t seem to be,” he said. “I’ll find out later, if he shows.”
She gave him a curt nod and pulled open the door. There was something about this woman, her slim figure accentuated by morning sunlight, that made his mind stray into territory it didn’t belong in. Just before that hazy summer, when Andy had dated Mackenzie, Dakota had started dating Andy’s best friend, Dwight. She’d almost married him, so he’d seen quite a bit of Dakota back then. You’d think that would have made her more inclined to be friendly with him. But even back then she’d seen straight through his attempts to look tough and suave, and she hadn’t liked what she’d seen. Now the woman had every reason to resent him; he had to keep that thought front and center.
Meanwhile he had a job to do. He’d do this cattle drive and, when Chet got back, he’d stay true to his word and get out of Hope for good. He’d celebrate Christmas in Billings and put all of this behind him. He’d seen enough over the last few days to be convinced that Hope would never be home sweet home again.
* * *
THE FACT THAT someone at the truck stop had meddled with Andy’s morning eggs was mildly satisfying. He had it coming after what he’d done to this community, and he didn’t deserve to swagger back into town and be welcomed with open arms. He’d formerly been a town favorite—up until he’d sold them all out. He’d been so cocksure of himself, and the girls had swooned for that auburn-hair-and-green-eyes combination—the Grangers were a good-looking family. It didn’t help that Andy was a flirt, either, but Dakota had never been the kind of girl to be taken in by that kind of guy. She’d seen straight through him from the start.
Dakota respected substance over flattery, so after Andy broke about a dozen hearts around town after Mack’s, and then up and sold his land to the developer, her sympathy—and everyone else’s for that matter—was spent. Andy Granger was a flirt and an idiot. As for the scrambled eggs—whatever they’d done to them, he’d had it coming.
Andy walked half a step ahead of her across the ranch yard. A tractor hooked up to a trailer was parked along the western fence, a few bales of hay and some tools on the trailer bed. Several goats were in the field beyond it, and they bleated in greeting as they passed. A chicken coop sat at the far end of the yard by the big, red barn and a rooster perched on a fence post nearby fluffed his feathers against the chill. A few hens scratched in the dirt outside the coop, but it looked like most had gone inside for some cozy comfort.
Andy angled his steps around the coop and Dakota noted how broad and strong he was still. City life hadn’t softened him physically. It had been almost five years since she’d last clapped eyes on him, and she’d forgotten how attractive he was up close... Not that it mattered.
A breeze picked up, swirling some leaves across their path, and she hitched her shoulders against the probing wind.
Word had spread about Andy, even when he was away. He’d spent a decade in the city, where he’d gotten engaged and then got cold feet, from what she’d heard through the grapevine. Then he’d sold the Granger pasture and left town again. It would have taken some courage to show his face after all that, but here he was, and he was doing this for his brother, which was the only reason she was being helpful at all—well, that and the money.
Dakota had known Andy quite well back in the day. He’d even asked her out once, leaning against the hood of his pickup and casting her a boyish grin. Truthfully, she’d been tempted to say yes—what girl hadn’t? But she’d just started dating Dwight and she wasn’t the two-timing kind of person. And what kind of a guy moved in on his best friend’s girlfriend? She’d turned him down flat, which was just as well because a few weeks later Mackenzie Granger came to town and soon they were a smoldering item. That just went to show that the boyish grin wasn’t to be trusted.
Ironically enough, Andy turned out to be less of a threat to her peace of mind than Dwight had been. The minute Dwight turned twenty-one, he did two things: propose and start drinking. She accepted his proposal, but the wedding never happened. With the booze, Dwight got violent, and she couldn’t stay in a relationship like that. Still, canceling her wedding had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. And Andy had been Dwight’s best friend—it said something about the kind of man Andy was, in her estimation. Birds of a feather and all that.
“So your eggs tasted funny, did they?” she asked, casting him a wry smile.
Andy shook his head. “You know, in a place this small you get to know everybody, but you also get to tick everybody off in one fell swoop, too.”
“So why come back?” she countered. “I’ve heard that you’re set up pretty well in Billings, and while I get helping out your brother, Elliot could have led this drive easily enough.”
In fact, she’d heard that Andy was rich, if she had to be entirely honest. Apparently he was making money hand over fist in the city, which was one more reason for people around here to resent him. It was easier to feel sorry for a guy who ended up down on his luck after pulling a stunt like that, but to have him actually prosper...
“I am set up pretty well.” His tone became more guarded and he looked away for a moment. “Let’s just say that some sentimental nonsense got the better of me.”
“Is that code for a woman?” she asked dryly. With Andy it usually came down to a woman.
“No.” He barked out a laugh. “Is that what you think of me, that I’m some kind of womanizer?”
Dakota shrugged. She couldn’t see any reason to lie. He had to know his own reputation. “Yes.”
He eyed her for a moment as if not sure how to take her frankness, then he shrugged.
“Well, this particular sentimental nonsense has nothing to do with a woman. This is about my dad, rest his soul, and my brother. I guess I missed...them. This. Fitting in. Like I said, nonsense. There is no turning back that clock.”
She didn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t exactly denied being a womanizer, but she did feel a little pang of pity at the mention of his father. Mr. Granger had died about four years earlier in a tractor accident. The whole town had showed up for the funeral. Even the truck stop closed down for a couple of hours so that everyone could attend; that’s how loved Andy’s father had been. She inwardly grimaced.
“I didn’t send the horses out to pasture today,” Andy went on, saving her from finding an appropriate reply.
He led the way around the side of the newly painted barn toward the corral. As they stepped into its shadow, the December day felt distinctly colder. This winter would make up for lost time; there was no doubt about it.
Andy glanced over his shoulder and his green eyes met hers. “Thanks for this, by the way.”
Her pulse sped up at the directness of that look and the very fact that he was working his blasted Granger charm on her was irritating.
“This isn’t for you, Granger. It’s for Chet.”
She wasn’t falling for any of Andy’s charms, but she could certainly understand why some women did. He was tall, muscular, with rugged good looks and scruff on his face that suggested he’d missed a couple of days of shaving. But Andy also represented something that hit her a little closer to home—the kind of guy who could walk away without too much trouble. Her brother had fallen for the female version of Andy Granger in the form of Nina Harpe, and she wasn’t about to repeat Brody’s mistakes. She had a lot of reasons to be wary of Andy Granger.
The corral was attached to the back of the barn, bathed in midmorning sunlight. At this time of year the sunlight was watery, but the air was surprisingly warm—about four or five degrees above freezing. Beyond the corral was a dirt road that lead toward different enclosed pastures, rolling hills of rich, golden cinnamon grass glowing in late autumn splendor. And beyond the fields were the mountains, rising in jagged peaks, hemming them in like majestic guards.
Several horses perked up at the sight of them, ears twitching in interest. Andy reached into a white bucket that sat in the shade and pulled out a fistful of carrots. He rolled them over in his hands, rubbing off the last of the dirt, and headed for the fence. Two of the horses came right over when Andy walked up—a dun stallion named Romeo and a piebald mare. Chet’s horse, a chestnut gelding named Barney, stood resolutely on the far side of the coral, ignoring them.
“Have you ridden any of them yet?” Dakota asked, stopping at Andy’s side. He held a carrot out to the mare.
“I’ve ridden Romeo, here,” he said, reaching out to pet the stallion’s nose. Romeo leaned closer, nosing for a carrot, and Andy obliged.
“How about Barney?” she asked, nodding toward the gelding that was inching closer around the side of the corral, wanting his own share of the treats.
“He bit me,” Andy retorted.
Dakota choked back a laugh. “Not sweet old Barney.”
“Sweet?” Andy shook his head. “That horse hates me. Every chance he gets, he gives me a nip. I just about lost the top of my ear last time.”
“Okay, well, not Barney, then,” she replied with a shake of her head. In fact, if Andy wasn’t going to ride Barney, she was inclined to take him herself. He was an experienced horse for this ride, a sweetheart deep down...if you weren’t Andy, apparently.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
She paused for a moment, considering.
“Romeo, here, is young and strong. He’s a runner. He’ll go and go, so he’ll definitely have the energy for a cattle drive. But he doesn’t have the experience.”
“I like him, though,” Andy said. Romeo crunched another carrot, his jaw grinding in slow, satisfied circles. “He wasn’t Chet’s first choice, either.”
“Which horse did Chet recommend?” she asked.
“Patty,” he said, nodding to the piebald mare. “But what do you think?”
Dakota looked over the horses. “I’d have said Barney, but if he really hates you that much—”
“And he does,” Andy replied in a low laugh.
“Patty is a good horse. She’d do well.” She paused, watching the way Romeo stretched toward Andy for another carrot. “But you seem to have a good bond with Romeo. I don’t know. I’d say it’s between Patty and Romeo. Patty would be my first choice. I think Romeo’s a risk.”
Andy nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” He gave the last carrot to Patty and showed Romeo his empty hands. “Sorry, buddy. All out.”
Andy pushed himself off the fence and Dakota followed him as he headed back the way they’d come. Sunlight warmed her shoulders and the top of her head. She glanced around the yard as they walked, inhaling the comforting scent of hay and autumn chill.
“So?” she prodded.
“When have I ever been one to take good advice?” he asked with a grin. “I’m taking Romeo. If I’m going to ride for four days, I’d rather have it be with a horse that wants to move.”
Somehow this didn’t surprise her in the least, and not in a pleasant way. Andy Granger had always made his own rules. “Fair enough.”
“What?” He cast her a quizzical look.
“Did you really want my advice, or just a vote for what you already wanted to do?”
“Hey.” His tone grew deeper and his eyes met hers. “I might not be the rancher of the family, but I’m not exactly a lost kitten, either. I can ride.”
Dakota dropped her gaze, her cheeks warming. Andy had an effective stare.
“I grew up here, too, you know,” he added. His stride was long and she had to pick up her pace to keep up with him.
He may have grown up in Hope, but she knew he’d never taken ranching very seriously.
“You clowned around,” she retorted. “I remember that horse show where you arrived late and—”
“I had my fun,” he interrupted. “And why not? No one else took me seriously.”
“They might have,” she shot back, “if you’d shown that you cared about this land at all.”
“And if I were punctual.” He gave her a look of mock seriousness. “So very punctual.”
He was making fun of her now and she shook her head. Andy had been late for that horse show, and she’d told him off for it when he finally did arrive. It was that joking attitude of his that rubbed her the wrong way—it always had. Always joking, never saying anything of any substance. In her own humble opinion, Andy’s father had made the right call in who got the ranch.
“You were late, and I came in first at that show,” she said. She’d enjoyed beating him.
“I was late and I still came in third,” he quipped. “Imagine what I could’ve done if I’d arrived on time.”
“Yes,” she retorted. “Imagine.”
The thing was Andy hadn’t lacked in skill or talent, just focus. At least that was the way she saw it. And he hadn’t focused because he hadn’t cared about ranching life. But Dakota did—she cared more than a guy like Andy could ever imagine, and while he was horsing around and flirting with girls, she’d been working hard. It wasn’t just a junior horse show, it was a matter of pride.
“I was joking.” He came to a stop in front of the house and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t sober entirely, that smile still teasing at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll get used to it.”
From where they stood she could see the barn on one side and the drive leading toward the main road on the other. It wound through bushes of amber and nut brown, a few cattails growing in the ditch where water collected. The cluck of the chickens mingled with the faraway call of a lone V of geese that soared overhead. She could see the beauty here—the life, the rotation of the seasons, the work to be done and the harvest to be enjoyed. She could see things she was quite sure Andy didn’t. The land wasn’t a joke, it was a responsibility.
“I’m already used to it,” she retorted. “You’re acting like I don’t know you. If you want to know why people are so ticked with you, this is it. This is all a joke for you, just a way to pass the time. But for the rest of us, this is our life, something we care enough about to dedicate every waking hour. When you sold that land, you made a dent in this community and it’s affected us all—my family especially. You might be joking around, but the rest of us are dead serious, and we’re left paying for it.”
“And I doubt there’s any way you’ll forgive me, is there?” He’d sobered finally, the joking look evaporating from his face, leaving those chiseled Granger good looks to drill straight into her.
“Probably not.” Dakota sucked in a breath and nodded in the direction of the corral. “I still recommend Patty, for the record. Not that I expect it to matter to you.”
“Noted. And I should add that just because I joke around doesn’t mean I’m not dead serious about some things, this cattle drive included.”
“Good.” She swallowed, uncertain of what else to say. There was nothing left, really. She’d stated her position and he’d stated his. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything, really, except two people forced to work together for a few days. What he thought of this land didn’t much matter. It didn’t belong to him.
“So I’ll see you Monday morning,” he said. “I want to start riding at sunup.”
“I’ll see you then,” she said and turned toward her truck.
“Dakota—” She turned back and he shrugged. “Thanks for meeting me halfway.”
Halfway at civil. It wasn’t much, but it seemed to mean something to him. Melancholy swam in those green eyes and then he gave her a nod of farewell and turned back toward the house. For all of his joking around, he was carrying a heavier load than she’d given him credit for. While she’d always hoped he’d live to regret what he’d done to this town by selling out, she’d never considered what it would mean to see that regret reflected in his face. Karma was best reported secondhand, not witnessed...something she’d already learned with Dwight.
A few years ago, right around Christmastime, she remembered putting up the family tree in the living room with her brother. She’d been dating Dwight at the time, and no one knew about his violent outburst yet, but apparently, his boozing had put up some warning flags. Brody had given her some sound advice. “Don’t get caught up with a guy who will ruin your future,” he’d told her seriously. “You already know what you want. Dwight doesn’t—and even if he did, he’d have to stop drinking if he wanted to achieve anything. So you’d better put together the life you want. No guy is going to give it to you, least of all Dwight. You need to dump his sorry butt before it’s too late.”
That advice still applied—both about steering clear of Dwight and any other guy who didn’t share her priorities. The wrong man could demolish everything she’d worked for.
Chapter Two (#u609ec5b3-7009-5d12-8b46-b5678f1a1f6c)
Dakota put her truck into reverse and pulled a three-point turn before heading out the drive that lead to the main road. She steered around a pothole, the dried fingertips of bushes scratching across the side of her vehicle. Mission accomplished: she’d secured the job. When Chet had called several days ago asking her to lend a hand on their late cattle drive for a decent sum, she’d been relieved. They needed the extra money rather badly, especially with Christmas coming up. Sometimes blessings came in the form of hard work.
