His by Valentine's Day (6 page)

"Speaking of cattle," Scott said uneasily.

The clear worry in his tone had her closing her eyes for a second before turning back to face him. Her stomach was knotting in dread. The tightness in his expression only made the knot grow tighter. "Something has happened, hasn't it?"

Dammit, she was responsible for what happened on this ranch. The buck stopped with her. And she'd been lax in her duties, all because she'd been sick. No, all because Cade Calloway wouldn't let her get out of this stupid bedroom. Okay, maybe that wasn't fair, but still...

Beneath his well-worn, wide-brimmed hat, Scott's brow furrowed in anger. "Don't beat yourself up about this because there was nothing you could have done. Nothing any of us could have done."

At the moment she was glad to be sitting down. She was certain whatever had happened was serious. She pulled in a breath and raised her chin. "Tell me. Now."

He hesitated, cursed under his breath, clearly reluctant to tell her. "We had some rustlers."

"What! When?" She shoved the covers aside and flung her legs over the side of the bed. Her head felt like it was spinning, but she couldn't let a little thing like dizziness stop her. This was bad. Big time bad.

Scott had started toward her, obviously noticing how wobbly legged she appeared. Darn it, she hated looking weak in front of him, in front of anyone. She put out a hand to stop his progress. "I'm fine. Just let me get dressed and we'll go--"

"You are not going anywhere!" Cade commanded from the doorway. The hardness in his brown eyes and the firm set of his strong jaw told her he'd not only seen her action but also that he'd heard what Scott said. He nodded toward her second-in-command. "Terrell and I will handle the problem."

Scott looked from Cade to Shawna and back to Cade. His entire body had gone stiff.

Before he could say anything, Shawna attempted to regain control of her noodle-like legs. "I'm capable of--"

Cade pinned her with a knowing look. "You're capable of what? Of taking two steps and falling flat on your face? Or maybe you'll manage to not wear yourself out, get dressed, storm out of the house intending to take control, and then collapse in front of your men?"

To her horror, tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away, mortified that the men had seen them. Darn it all. Cade was right. She was of no help now. The realization only hurt her bruised ego more and made her lash out at Scott. "I asked you before, when did this happen?"

He barely even flinched at the fury in her tone. "Yesterday."

Yesterday? And he hadn't come to tell her until now? "What took you so long to come to me?"

Scott's glance slid to Cade. "Boss man didn't want you disturbed. He's made that real clear lately. So Alan, the men and I have been dealing with the situation." He blew out a huff of frustration. "But I decided it was time you knew about the incident."

"Damn straight." She slumped down on the side of the bed because it was either that or give in to her slowly collapsing legs.

Cade's jaw had tightened even more, a vein pulsing in his neck. After a second he said through gritted teeth, "Why the hell hasn't someone told me about this before now?"

Scott held himself rigid. "You've been all tied up taking care of Shawna. We've dealt with this before." He met Shawna's gaze and said calmly, "Alan has been dealing with the authorities since we found out."

The answer only seemed to make Cade more upset, even if every word Scott had said was true. Cade had barely left her house since he'd arrived three days ago. He'd catered to her every need--whether she wanted him to or not. Sadly, she'd kind of liked being spoiled and taken care of. But she needed to put an end to that, and take some kind of control of her job again.

"Scott is right." She held Cade's angry gaze. "This isn't a problem you've faced in some boardroom. This is ranch business. Bad business, yes. But we have dealt with this before."

Cade stared at Shawna, bone deep angry. He was having a hell of a day. First the arguments with Shawna over her wanting to return to her job too soon, ending with a necessary spanking. Then the frustrating conversation with the potential buyer for the ranch. Followed by dealing with his guilt over costing all of these good people their livelihoods...their "home," as Shawna kept insisting. He'd felt like shit since talking to Arnold and realizing what he was about to do. And then he'd discovered Terrell had snuck past him to come see Shawna in spite of his orders to leave her alone. Now this disaster.

"This is my business, dammit. You two need to remember that I own the ranch. You work here, but I own the place. What happens here matters to me." You matter to me. All of you matter to me. Thoughts which surprised him and that he didn't know how to deal with at the moment.

He watched Terrell's eyebrows lift in surprise and noted a hint of respect flash in the tough cowboy's eyes. But it was Shawna's reaction that got to him.

She'd grown pale, silent. Horribly silent before she whispered, "For now. You own the ranch for now. You care for now." Then she crawled back onto the bed and pulled the covers over her. "Fine. You two go take care of everything. It's clear I'm not needed."

"Shawna," Terrell protested and glowered at Cade. "Of course you're needed. But you've been sick."

She turned away from them, but not before Cade saw her blinking back tears. "He's right," Cade tried to make some kind of meek amends.

"Just go away. I'm tired."

Cade started to say something else--not really sure how to get himself out of this mess--but Terrell shook his head. Maybe he was right. Maybe they needed to leave her alone for now and just go deal with the situation. He headed for the doorway. "I'll talk to you later."

Chapter Four

Cade had never been so damn cold in his life, not even when he'd spent a day skiing. He tugged the lapels of his borrowed sheep-skin lined jacket higher and tried not to let anyone see him shaking against the bitter coldness. He, Scott, Alan, and a half dozen other men had been here on this frozen tundra of a field for three long hours. Well, frozen tundra covered with a thick layer of snow. And the snow had started falling again almost the second they climbed out of Scott's pickup truck. If he never spent another winter day like this...

From the corner of his eye he saw Alan frowning before ending a phone call. He'd been talking to the local sheriff and Cade could tell whatever the man had learned wasn't good. He shook off his frustration with the weather and asked, "What did he have to say?"

Alan tucked his cell phone in his coat pocket. "The Sheriff said the highway patrol caught up with the cattle truck near the Kansas/Missouri border. Truck had two blown tires." He looked at Scott, then finally at Cade. "The men aren't talking, naturally."

"Never do," Scott grumbled and heaved a gut-deep sigh.

"What about the cattle? Did they still have them?" Cade asked.

He wanted the cattle back for his sake, of course, but more for Shawna's sake. He knew she felt personally responsible. He understood that, since she was the foreman. But he didn't like it. He didn't want her worrying herself sick all over again. From what he knew about cattle rustling--what Scott had told him during their drive here, there wasn't anything she or any of the men could have done. Cattle rustling was big business, dangerous business. He'd heard about how more than one rancher or ranch hand had gotten killed trying to stop some rustlers. The cattle he'd lost might be worth some major bucks, but they definitely weren't worth the loss of any of these men.

"Yeah, they had them. Twenty head, all sporting the RHR brand. But they're evidence at the moment," Alan explained with a frown. He muttered a curse hot enough to almost take the chill out of the air. "We'll be lucky to get them back in a month or two. They'll be underweight, too, when we get them." He cursed again. "Damn bad business this cattle rustling."

Cade pulled his own cell phone out, blinking past the fat snowflakes. "Burdett, you find out where the cattle are being held and send a couple men to haul them back," he told Alan. He glanced at both uncertain-looking men. "I don't pay a staff of high-priced attorneys for nothing. I'll make a call." His lawyers would deal with the cattle thieves.

"Right. A call." Scott shot him a doubting look and focused on the other man again.

Unconcerned with the cowboy's lack of faith in him--they didn't know him, after all--Cade walked a few feet away. Before making the call, he tried to gather his thoughts, tried to make a plan for dealing with this mess. He was familiar with untangling messes. He'd done it often enough when he bought a business with great potential that was currently being run into the ground. His attorneys were experts at solving problems, too.

Even as he tried to focus on what he needed to do, he overheard Scott and Alan talking in lowered tones. Using a fitting cliche, they grumbled about how everything had clearly gone to hell in a hand basket now. When they mentioned Shawna, he paid particular attention. In spite of all the problems they faced, they were still worried about finding a way to help her. It was, apparently, killing all of the ranch hands that they hadn't been able to raise the money to buy the ranch for her. And their attitude was definitely more of buying it "for her" rather then buying it "together." Odd that. Well, maybe not. These people were family. She was the center of their unusual family. He was both comfortable and uncomfortable with that.

Again, he felt lower than snake scum for what he was doing to all of them. This was business, normal business for him. Not for them, though. This was someone coming in and taking away their livelihoods. Someone coming in and hurting a woman they all cared about.

Another blast of cold air hit him hard and made his teeth chatter. He'd have to think about the problem with the ranch later. Right now he needed to deal with this problem. He punched in the speed dial number that went directly to his head attorney.

* * *

Several hours after the men had left Shawna stood just inside Bessy's stall in the warm stable. She hadn't been able to spend another minute in her room, even in her small house, which she normally loved. It had taken nearly every last ounce of strength she had to get dressed and walk out here, but she'd done it. Her legs were weak. Her head felt fuzzy. But she'd gotten out of that darn prison-like sickroom.

Even though she knew her body would make her pay for this later, she was pleased with herself. She faced her usually high-spirited horse. Bessy was being very patient, although her nostrils kept twitching at the smell of the treat in Shawna's hand. Finally, Shawna held up an apple and her beloved horse quickly snagged it, making Shawna laugh as Bessy's nose tickled her palm. God, how long has it been since I've laughed? Easy. Since before Cade Calloway entered her life that fateful Thanksgiving less than two months back. Since before he'd announced the end of the world she knew.

Cade. The stubborn man had insisted on going with Scott out to the field from which the cattle had been rustled. He was a boardroom kind of man, not a cattleman. He wouldn't have a clue to what they would be looking for. Hell, he'd probably get in the way of her hands. Her hands? No. They were her friends, but they were Cade's ranch hands...just as he'd pointed out. The ranch belonged to him. The cattle and most of the horses were his. Not Bessy and not the personal horses belonging to her rodeo buddies. Still, most of everything she looked at every day belonged to a man she barely knew. A man, who in spite of that, made her tingle all over whenever he was anywhere nearby. Granted some of the "tingling" was often due to fury at something he said. But she wasn't naive. She knew most of the "tingling" had to do with the fact that she wanted him. How sad was she?

"We're in a real pickle here, Bessy." She stroked the velvety nose that bumped her shoulder. "We're going to lose our home. And there doesn't seem to be a dadblamed thing I can do about it."

She sniffled and blinked back the tears that seemed constantly ready to fall. She wasn't the kind of woman who cried easily. She'd faced terrible losses in her life: losing her mother before she could know her, losing her father, and recently breaking up with the rancher she'd thought she would marry. She'd made it through all of it okay, with internal bruises and heartaches. Somehow she'd handle this loss, too. But it hurt. A lot.

Bessy nuzzled her again, clearly wanting attention, and Shawna smiled. She lightly scratched the long nose. "I called the banker again before I came out here." She swallowed hard at the disheartening conversation they'd had. "He said even if I used my small inheritance from Dad, took money from Grandpa's trust fund, and..." She looked at Bessy through watery eyes, saying miserably. "And if I sold you..."

Her voice broke on a sob. "It still wouldn't add up to anything close enough for a downpayment to get the kind of loan I'd need." A loan that was staggering even to consider.

She glanced toward the stable filled with her rodeo buddies' horses. "The men can't come up with near enough, either. And I know they've all been trying their hardest."

Feeling hopeless and helpless, she slumped down to sit on the straw. Bessy gave what Shawna interpreted as a sympathetic whimper and moved back to the other end of the stall. What were they going to do? Where could they go? And they had less than three weeks now to figure something out. February 1 hung heavy over their heads. She knew there would be no way a new corporate buyer would keep them on, no matter how much Cade denied that. And winter was a pitiful time to be out looking for new jobs on a ranch.

She closed her eyes and thought about the banker's suggestion about them buying another small ranch he knew was for sell. For the money they could raise, it had to be really small. She supposed the size shouldn't matter. They just needed a fresh start, somewhere to dig in for a while. They needed a home. But she didn't want to leave the Rolling Hills Ranch. So many memories were here. Her father was buried in the old family cemetery on the north quarter. She didn't really want to think about another ranch. And how foolish is that!