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Authors: Becky McGraw

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BOOK: My Kind of Trouble
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Luke had actually been on the verge of
asking Cassie to marry him the night she'd left, had the ring he'd
saved up for six months in his pocket. If Becca Harvey hadn't
fallen into the damned lake and almost drowned, making him late
meeting her at their spot, he would have. Maybe Becca saved him the
embarrassment of Cassie laughing in his face, and telling him she
was leaving.

 

He'd never been good enough for her anyway,
everyone said so, and she'd probably figured it out, or had always
known it too. Which probably explained why she'd had no problem at
all leaving him. What Luke had thought to be sincere words of love
from her had actually been a little rich girl getting her jollies
by stringing him along with hot kisses, before she cut out for
greener grass.

Her daddy owned a big cattle ranch...she was
part of the 'haves' and he was definitely a 'have not'. Just the
size of the rock on her finger told him she was still out of his
league, regardless of the fact that he
had
made something of
himself in the ten years she'd been gone. Luke was not, and would
never be a rich man, someone who could keep Cassie in the style to
which she was accustomed.

 

But he was happy with his life now without
her. Things had turned out like they were supposed to. He wasn't
letting a case of 'what ifs' make him forget how far he'd come. He
dated plenty, got laid when he had the urge, without complications.
He didn't need the tall leggy former rodeo queen complicating his
life. Nope, Luke learned from his mistakes...and Cassie Bellamy was
one of the biggest he'd ever made.

 

He wasn't sticking around for the rest of
her reunion with Cody Lawson either. Leaning across the passenger
seat, he grabbed the door handle. "Looks like you have things
covered. See you around," he told her gruffly and slammed the door
then jammed the car into reverse and pulled away. A glance in the
rearview found her standing beside the big beefcake staring after
him with her hands on her hips.

 

Luke dragged his eyes away from her in the
mirror and hit the accelerator. If he hurried, he could make the
trip to the ranch to see Carl and be gone before she got her truck
fixed and made it there. He'd make sure of it.

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

It was dusk by the time Cassie dragged her
suitcase from the bed of the truck and lugged it up to the front of
the big farm house that had been her home for the first eighteen
years of her life. She stopped for a moment at the steps and just
took it all in.

 

The big old house looked the same, even down
to the brightly colored potted flowers hanging on the hooks her
mother had put along the porch eaves twenty years ago. Imelda must
still be making sure flowers were hung there and they were tended.
Cassie inhaled deeply and took in the familiar smell of cattle,
hay, dust, rich earth...home.

 

The sense of homecoming that squeezed her
heart, was unfathomable. Ten years faded away, as she placed her
boot on the first step and then the second, then on the wide boards
of the front porch which led to the tall red front door with high
windows. She lifted her hand to knock, but dropped it to the knob
instead, and walked inside.

 

Stepping inside the entryway was like
walking through at time warp. The antler chandelier in the
high-ceilinged entry welcomed her, and the rich brown hardwood
floors gleamed in the fading sunlight. She took a few steps and
looked left into her mother's sitting room. Dainty lace doilies her
mother had crocheted still covered every piece of sturdy oak
furniture, and the same overstuffed floral sofa sat against the
wall between two sage green high-backed Queen Anne chairs.

 

She peeked into the small telephone alcove
that was right by the front door and was surprised to see the red
rotary dial phone had been replaced by a modern black push button
model. Then she took a few steps and looked into the formal dining
room. Her mother's fine china was still proudly displayed in the
big oak hutch her daddy had bought for her. There was a white lace
table cloth covering the huge table that would seat twenty people,
and often had for holidays.

 

When she got to the end of the entry hall,
instead of turning right to go into the kitchen, she took a deep
breath of the rarified air smelling of lavender, lemon oil and
leather then yelled "Daddy! I'm home!"

 

"Cassie Bee? Is that you?" she heard Carl
Bellamy's deep familiar voice call weakly from the family room.

 

Cassie dropped her suitcase in the foyer and
ran through the big doorway into the family room, and found her
daddy sitting in a wheelchair near a window beside the huge brick
fireplace with a crocheted afghan over his lap. Skidding to a stop
on the braided rug in front of the fireplace, she stared at the
frail old man in the wheelchair who looked a hundred years old. She
swallowed a lump of emotion that clogged her throat. He bore no
resemblance to the man she'd seen at Christmas.

 

Her hand flew to her mouth and she
whispered, "Oh, daddy..." then ran to him and hugged him
tightly.

 

"Dammit, I told Imelda not to call you," he
said against her shoulder.

 

"And I'd have kicked your ass if she didn't.
I'm really pissed she didn't call when it happened!"

 

"I'm fine girl...just leave me be," he told
her then looked away to look back out the window.

 

"You're not fine, and you know it. You're
just a being a crotchety old fart who won't admit he needs
help."

 

"Watch your mouth, young lady."

 

"I'm not a young lady anymore, daddy...and
you're not a young man," Cassie told him and huffed out a
frustrated breath.

 

He grunted and jerked the afghan off of his
legs and tossed it aside. When he put his hands on the arms of the
wheelchair, and moved his leg off the leg rest as if to stand, she
pushed his shoulders back down. "You stay right there--what do you
need?"

 

"I need for you to quit treating me like an
invalid. I have a ranch to run."

 

"I'm running the ranch until you're better.
You are going to get some physical therapy to get back on your
feet," Cassie told him firmly.

 

"I'm not going to one of those old folks
homes...you can put that right out of your head."

 

"I'd never do that to you! You know that!"
She couldn't believe he thought she'd do that to him. "We'll get
someone to come out here."

 

"They won't do it...it's too far out in the
sticks." His big hand squeezed the handle of the chair and he
swallowed thickly. Her dad had been so strong for so many years, it
hurt her heart to see him so weak and fragile. And to see how much
he was trying to hide his frailness from the world. He was only
sixty-two, but right now he looked ancient.

 

Cassie clenched her jaw, looked him in the
eyes and said, "They'll do what I damned well tell them to do."

 

A grin kicked up the side of his mouth and
wrinkled his weathered cheek. He reached over and squeezed her
hand. "That's my girl."

 

He was right, the Double B was pretty rural,
but somehow, she'd pull off getting someone to agree to come out.
She had to...because she knew he'd never agree to leave the ranch.
Cassie had come by her stubbornness honestly. Getting him to retire
and move to Phoenix with her was a pie in the sky dream, she knew.
But she wasn't giving up on trying. Tenacity was another thing
she'd inherited from Carl Bellamy.

 

Forcing a bright smile Cassie asked, "So
what do you want for supper?" She grabbed the handles on the back
of his wheelchair. "You know my cooking skills are limited, so take
it easy on me."

 

"You still haven't learned to cook? How're
you gonna catch a man if you can't cook girl?"

 

She'd heard that one before. Her mother
hadn't been around to teach her, and Imelda had tried with no
success. She could make simple stuff, but she wasn't going to win a
blue ribbon at the county fair for her pie that was for sure.

 

Without her mother's guidance in the girly
department, Cassie had turned into something of a tomboy after her
death, preferring to ride and rope and fish than priss and primp.
It had won her the title of rodeo queen, and 4-H barrel racing
champ, but hadn't done much to improve her domestic skills.

 

"I'm going to hire a cook like Imelda." It
was good that James was nearly a gourmet chef. He'd was the one who
cooked in their household. "Or marry a man who can cook."

 

He looked over his shoulder at her. "Not
that prissy pants, James fella I met at Christmas, huh?"

 

"Yeah, Dad. James and I are engaged
now."

 

He grunted. "When he shook my hand his wrist
was as limp as my dic--"

 

"Dad! That's enough!" she said in
exasperation.

 

"What you need is a man like that Luke
Matthews." He chuckled then laughed, "Even though I almost had to
pepper his ass with buckshot that time I caught him trying to climb
in your window, he's a good man." He laughed again and then slapped
his thigh. "You would've laughed your ass off if you'd have seen
that boy's face staring down the barrel of old Annie."

 

Not likely, because
she
had
invited
Luke to climb that rose trellis. She had been
terrified her daddy was going to kill Luke that night. But she
smiled a wide smile anyway, because it was good to see her father
laughing about anything right now.

 

"Is he still single?" She had wondered when
she'd seen him earlier today, but wasn't about to ask. Cassie
hadn't noticed a wedding ring, but that didn't mean anything...nor
did the fact that he was flirting with her. Once a cheater, always
a cheater.

 

"Yeah, he's single, but all the there's
always girls hot on his tail, I hear. He was out here a little bit
ago checking up on me."

 

"He was?" That was odd, he must've come out
right after he dropped her off at the garage. To her knowledge Luke
and her father weren't close, and from what she remembered of him,
Luke wasn't one to care about anyone but himself. But maybe he'd
changed, after all he'd had helped
her
earlier.

 

"He wanted to see if I needed anything.
Offered his help, and suggested I go to a hospital over in Amarillo
to get back on my feet. But that ain't happening." Her dad's gray
eyes narrowed thoughtfully, "You know...he's worked on a cattle
farm before, may---"

 

"No!" She shouted in frustration, stopping
the wheelchair right in the doorway to the kitchen. "Why are you so
hot for me to hook up with Luke now? I thought you didn't like
him?"

 

"I changed my mind when they elected him
Sheriff. He's made something of himself, and you could do worse for
a husband...like that James."

 

"Dad, please. James is a good man and he's
my business partner. I care about him, please don't talk like
that."

 

Her Daddy harrumphed. "He's just not the
right one for you, baby girl. You know I speak my mind."

 

"If there's one thing I know, it's that."
She leaned down and kissed his leathery cheek. "Okay my stomach
thinks I cut my throat, let's go eat."

 

"You lucked out, Imelda left some lasagna in
the fridge. Think you can manage to heat it up without burning
it?"

 

She laughed and slugged him in the shoulder
lightly. "Yes, daddy, I think I can manage that."

 

The rubber wheels of the chair squeaked
across the shiny floor as she pushed him through the kitchen and
parked him at the small oak breakfast table covered with a white
table cloth. "So how many cowpokes you have working for you these
days?"

 

"Four, not including Bud." She set the brake
on the chair before walking around the wide breakfast bar to the
big double door refrigerator, beside the huge stainless steel
stove.

 

Bud was the foreman and lived out in the
bunkhouse behind the barn. He'd been her daddy's foreman and best
friend for thirty years. There wasn't anyone her father trusted
like Buddy Parsons. "He's still putting up with you? Amazing."

 

She dug around inside the refrigerator and
found the foil-wrapped casserole pan with the lasagna. James would
love this kitchen, she thought when she stood back up looking
around. The copper pots hanging on the rack above the center prep
island, and the eight burner stove, would put him in heaven. She
reached up in the cabinet and pulled down two stoneware plates and
set them on the countertop by the microwave. Maybe she'd invite
James down for the weekend in a couple weeks. Maybe her daddy would
like him if he got to know him better.

 

Carl grunted and said "I'm still putting up
with
him
you mean."

 

"I know how the wind blows at the Double B,
daddy," she said with a chuckle then dug in the drawer until she
found a serving spoon. Cassie scooped out a big serving of lasagna
on one plate, then the other. Brushing her finger over the spoon
and sampled the cold sauce and moaned. Delicious as always.

 

"It blew you right out of here didn't it?
Thought Buddy would be right behind you."

 

Cassie picked up the plates and walked
toward the microwave. "He loves you more than me, you know that,"
she told him then winked.

 

"Not a snowball's chance in hell, darlin',
that man thinks you hung the moon and the stars. You practically
ripped his heart out of his chest when you left."

BOOK: My Kind of Trouble
11.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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