Ryelee's Cowboy (3 page)

He wanted to talk to Annie, she always
had such good advice but she was so busy with the new baby.
Although he had begun to rely on Dottie’s counsel, he questioned if
it was unbiased. He had really liked her at first, but now he began
to question her motives. She didn’t have anything nice to say about
anyone. Glancing at his watch, he realized he would be late for his
lunch date with Dottie. He planned to take her to the diner, and
she was sure to squawk if he arrived late. It was too late to
cancel now.

* * * *

Driving into the town of Weltworth
made Clint smile. He grew up in this quaint little town, and it
made him happy that he’d been able to raise Rheenie here as well.
They drove by Penny’s General Store, Hal’s Hardware, and Wilt’s
Hats and Spurs. He had frequented all these places his whole life.
He bought his first comic book at Penny’s and spent a lot of his
youth dreaming of the day he could afford his first black Stetson
at Wilt’s. Most of the stores had the original wooden façades that
had aged over the years. Sidewalks made of wood still edged the
cobbled main street. They even had a community garden where the
townspeople grew vegetables and flowers. Pulling up to the town’s
only diner, Clint smiled at Dottie.

Clint walked into the old-time diner
with Dottie on his arm. He frowned when he didn’t get his usual
friendly greeting from the older, saucy, owner Noreen. Usually
Noreen acted overjoyed to see him.

Noreen took one look at him, frowned,
and turned away.

He sat in a booth with Dottie, but
Noreen surprised him when she didn’t rush over with coffee as she
always had in the past. Looking toward the diner counter, he was
disturbed to find Noreen actually glaring at him.

Finally, Noreen made her way to their
table. She greeted Clint but noticeably snubbed Dottie. “Hey,
cowboy, I think you’re in here with the wrong female. This one’s a
barracuda.” Noreen gave Dottie a derisive look. “Where are Rheenie
and Ryelee?”

“Home,” he answered in confusion. “Is
something wrong, Noreen?”

Noreen looked pointedly at Dottie,
whose face turned redder by the minute. “Nothing wrong with you,
handsome. It’s the company you keep that stinks.” She walked away,
trying to put her graying hair back into its bun.

Clint’s jaw dropped open. Noreen had
always been an unyielding champion for him and Rheenie. She was the
first one to come when his wife died. She brought them food for a
month. When his ranch fell into foreclosure, she helped him get his
current job running the horse-breeding program on the Dawson
ranch.

He started to get up to talk to Noreen
but Dottie’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“She doesn’t like me. Let’s just go
somewhere else.”

Clint looked into her pleading eyes
and smiled. “Let’s go.” He stood up, took her hand, and led her out
of the diner without looking at Noreen. It hurt that she had
treated them so shabbily. He would talk to her later,
alone.

Clint drove them both to his house. He
really wanted to know about the problem between Dottie and Noreen
but didn’t ask. Instead, he acted as though nothing happened and
promised her Ryelee would make them lunch.

As they drove up the dirt road to his
house, a most remarkable sight greeted him. In fact, he had to do a
double take. Rheenie was dressed in the pink cowgirl outfit that
Annie bought her. Ryelee had on a makeshift Indian headdress,
giving her best war cry, while Rheenie screamed and pretended to
shoot. Clint could see Dottie’s horrified expression out of the
corner of his eye. Personally, Clint enjoyed the show. From
Rheenie’s bright eyes and healthy apple-red cheeks, he could see
her joy blooming, and it made him warm inside.

Before he could stop her, Dottie got
out of the truck and stalked over to Ryelee.

Clint stepped out of the truck and
watched as Rheenie’s joy left her. He couldn’t hear all Dottie
said, but it wasn’t good. Hell, now he had some damage control to
do. Dottie was presuming too much if she thought she had the right
to yell at Rheenie and Ryelee.

Rheenie ran crying to Clint, and he
scooped her up and kissed her tears. “Hey,” he said in a soft,
soothing voice. “It’s not so bad. Is it?”

Rheenie hiccupped as she buried her
head in his broad shoulder and cried. She was inconsolable. For the
first time, Clint could not bring comfort to his daughter. It tore
at his heart. He walked over to Ryelee, deathly white, and handed
her his daughter. Rheenie quieted right away as she wrapped her
arms around Ryelee’s neck. Ryelee carried Rheenie
inside.

Clint immediately took Dottie home,
neither speaking.

Later when he looked in on Rheenie, it
touched him to find both Rheenie and Ryelee asleep together. He
pulled a quilt up over the two of them. He still didn’t know what
to do, but he realized he couldn’t take Ryelee away from Rheenie.
She had lost too much already.

Chapter Two

Ryelee woke up slowly, hazy as to her
whereabouts. When Rheenie snuggled up beside her, she smiled, but
her smile faded as she remembered the scene from that afternoon.
Ryelee sighed. She constantly showed Clint her bad side. She looked
at Rheenie and slid from the bed. At least she made Rheenie
happy.

Slowly she made her way down the
stairs, her stomach queasy as she wondered what Clint would say to
her. She would probably have to leave. Dottie had been scathing in
her remarks to Ryelee, calling her a poor, ignorant skank who
clearly wasn’t capable of minding Rheenie. She should have expected
as much from Dottie but it wounded her just the same.

Her heart grew heavy as she walked the
plank to Clint’s office. She knew he was there because she could
hear Reba McIntyre’s voice on the radio. Ryelee pulled her
shoulders back. She was a fighter when it mattered. She needed this
job, and she loved Rheenie. Mentally she braced herself for the
confrontation.

“Ryelee, have a seat.” He motioned to
the plush leather chair in front of his desk.

Ryelee sat on the edge of the seat,
fearing the outcome of their conversation, but when she lifted her
eyes to Clint, the tenderness in his brown eyes surprised her. She
had always watched him from afar, too intimidated to look at him
when he was close. She loved his rough, angular face and black
curly hair. He usually kept it quite short, but it definitely
needed a cut. Her eyes traveled downward to his strong, broad
shoulders, and she wished she could lay her head on his shoulder
and cry. She had a feeling that having his arms around her would
make her feel protected. Suddenly, she realized she was staring and
brought her gaze back up to his amused one.

“I’m sorry about this afternoon,”
Ryelee started uneasily. “Rheenie asked about Texas history, and,
well, the next thing I knew we were playing cowboys and Indians.”
Not wanting to see the censure in his eyes, she looked down at her
hands. “I didn’t know that Dottie would be here.”

“Ryelee, look at me,” Clint said, his
voice gentle and coaxing. “This is your home too, and if you and
Rheenie are having fun—safe fun—then so be it. The look of joy on
her face when I drove up was priceless. That's what matter's. I
heard some of what Dottie said to you, and it’s
inexcusable.”

“It’s not true.”

“What’s not true?”

“I’m not ignorant. In fact, I’ve taken
a few college classes,” she said with a tinge of defensiveness in
her tone. It had been hard going but she did it. She completed each
lesson and each assignment. Her grades had been good, but no one
cared.

“Huh. Dottie said you dropped out of
school.”

“I did only after she made it
impossible for me to go to school without being ridiculed for being
poor, having to get my clothes from the Church bin, and for being
the town drunk's kid. Mrs. Steven the librarian took an interest in
me. She helped me get my GED and take a few on-line college
classes.”

Clint got out of his chair, came
around, and leaned against the front of his desk. Reaching down, he
took Ryelee’s hand. “I’m sorry that you were bullied in school.
It’s not right. But getting your GED and taking college courses are
accomplishments that you should be proud of.”

Ryelee simply nodded her head. She
didn’t feel proud. She knew she never would again, not after all
the unspeakable things her father had done to her.

“Are the few clothes I’ve seen all
that you have?”

Ryelee’s face flamed and she pulled
her hand back. “Yes,” she whispered. “There was never any money
and…”

“I pay you well enough, why don’t you
go to town and get yourself a few new things?”

“I have to save every penny.” She
turned away from him. “I need to have enough cash for when you
throw me away, like my father did.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know,” Ryelee said sadly. “I’ll get
dinner going.” She stood.

“Wait a minute, Ryelee. Annie told me
that you had nowhere to go. I guess I didn’t give it much
thought.”

“There’s not much to tell. My father
kicked me out. Noreen from the diner let me stay with her for a
week or so. I waitressed to earn my keep. Then this job came up,
and I jumped at it. I’ve always liked kids, and you have a good
reputation in town.”

Clint nodded. “You’ve had a hard time
of it. I’m sorry.”

Ryelee shrugged her shoulders. “Like I
said, there’s not much to tell. I have to get dinner ready.” She
didn’t wait for a reply. She wasn’t up to any more questions. She
made a hasty escape.

Closing the door behind her, she
sagged against it. Too many questions that she didn't want to
answer. It hurt to know that her past would always be a black mark
against her. What she'd give for a clean slate.

* * * *

Clint wondered what was going on in
that mind of hers. He never could understand women. Lord knows his
wife had told him so often enough. Sighing, he rubbed the back of
his neck. He decided to go over to see Annie. Maybe she could give
him some perspective on the situation. He really felt out of his
depth here.

Clint poked his head in the kitchen
and told Ryelee he was going over to the Dawson’s for a while. True
to form, Ryelee didn’t even look at him when she nodded.

Clint stopped to admire the horses
frolicking in the pasture. His breeding program was coming right
along. They had finally obtained ownership of King’s Crown, a
prize-winning stud. In fact, the horse had been a gift to Annie
from her husband Burke. The stallion had covered most of the mares,
and in a day or two, they would test for pregnancy. Things were
looking good.

It was a long-range plan, breeding
horses. Right now, they were able to sell King’s Crowns services.
They also had quite a few requests for artificial insemination,
which brought in an amazing amount of money. Once the mares threw
their foals, they would be able to charge even more. Clint felt
confident that he was breeding prizewinners.

The other half of the
operation—more dear to his heart—was breeding, buying, and training
Quarter Horses. These horses
were
his heart. Smart, fast, and perfect for ranching,
they were quick and well-balanced and possessed strong back legs.
Clint loved how they could sprint, turn, and stop.

Although he didn’t own the ranch, he
enjoyed it here. He still yearned for the land he had lost in
foreclosure. The ranch had been in his family since right after the
Civil War. Each generation of Maloneys had their own battle to hold
onto the land, and being the one to fail seized his heart. Medical
bills for his wife and Rheenie had cost him his ranch. He was
thankful for the house and job Annie Dawson had provided for
him.

He knocked lightly on the front door.
Mrs. Harvy, the Dawson’s slender housekeeper, answered the door
with a smile. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and
her blue eyes twinkled.

“’
Bout time you came to
visit,” she scolded. “We hardly ever see you anymore.”

Clint winked at the older woman. “I’m
here today, love.”

Mrs. Harvy laughed and ushered him
into the family room of the big farmhouse. “I’ll bring some tea,
and you’re in luck—I just made cookies.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all
week.”

Annie looked up from her book giving
him a glimpse of her green eyes and smiled. “Hey, cowboy. What’s
up?”

Clint smiled. “Women
problems.”

Annie chuckled and pushed a few curls
of auburn hair back away from her face. “‘Women’ as in
many?”

Clint sat down in a chair opposite
hers. “Yes. I just don’t understand them. I’m having problems with
Ryelee, Rheenie, Dottie, and even Noreen.”

Annie’s eyes glowed with mirth.
“Certainly not Noreen! What did you do to get on her bad side? Did
you maybe take Dottie Long into her place?”

Clint groaned. “Don’t tell me the
Weltworth grapevine is working overtime.”

“Mrs. Harvy told me an hour ago. I
guess Noreen and Dottie have some long-standing feud. It’s
something about Dottie and Noreen’s son. Whatever happened,
Noreen’s son hasn’t been back in town for about two years now.” She
gave him a sympathetic smile. “I guess you didn’t know.”