Wrangling the Cowboy's Heart (2 page)

So she simply murmured her thanks. She was quite certain that even if Monty knew exactly what her father was like, he would have said the same thing.

“You girls make sure you call us if you need anything,” Ellen told them, clinging to both their hands, her smile warm.

“Thank you,” Jodie and Lauren said at the same time.

Jodie had only vague remembrances of Monty, Ellen and their three children, Keira, Heather and Lee. Keith had taken them only a few times to Refuge Ranch, the Bannister spread. Because Lauren and Erin were older, they'd hung out with Keira and Heather, leaving Jodie to play with either the cats in the barn or the horses.

“How are you girls holding out?” Aunt Laura slipped an arm around Lauren, giving Jodie a quick smile.

“This is harder than I thought it would be,” Lauren said, wiping her eyes. “I feel so bad that we didn't take the time to see him before he died.”

“Oh, honey, you meant to,” their aunt assured her. “I know you were making plans. He was excited at the thought of seeing you both. I'm sure you have good and bad memories, and like cousin Monty said, I hope you can find some of the good ones,” she continued.

“Thanks, Aunt Laura,” Jodie said, giving her a hug. “It's so good to see you again.”

“We'll have to make sure to get together while you girls are still here. Knowing you, Jodie, you'll be gone with the first puff of wind sifting through the valley.” Aunt Laura raised her finely plucked eyebrows. “I'll give you girls a moment while I make certain the caterer has taken care of the lunch.”

As their aunt marched off to do her duty, Lauren took a deep breath, blinking back tears, and pulled a tissue out of the pocket of her dress. “I can't believe I feel this way,” she sniffed. “I didn't think I'd be so weepy.”

“Part of it might be because Erin's not here,” Jodie said, tucking her arm in her sister's. “You two always had a special bond.”

A bond that Jodie, at times, envied. Her twin sisters always seemed so self-sufficient, and though they included Jodie in many of their antics and adventures, she often felt like an outsider to their relationship.

“Why wouldn't she come?” Lauren asked, the pain she felt evident in her voice.

“Obviously something's happening in her life and she needs to deal with it.” That was all Jodie could say.

Her sister gave her a wan smile. “How are you doing? Today can't be easy for you, either.”

Though Lauren had often witnessed Jodie and her father's altercations, she had never been subject to his intense anger, as Jodie had been whenever she messed up. It didn't help that the two of them had the same quick temper.

Jodie had spent way more hours in “time out” than her sisters. It had only increased her rebelliousness, finally ending with her stopping her visits to the ranch.

“It's hard,” she said now, emotions braiding through her memories as she tried to find the good ones that the pastor suggested she look for.

Lord, forgive me
, she thought.
I can't think of many.

Chapter Two

K
eith's funeral service was harder to deal with than Finn had expected it would be.

Though Finn came to church every Sunday, the atmosphere there today and at the graveyard afterward reminded him of his fiancée's funeral four years ago. Except then the church had been packed and the people surrounding the grave spilled over into the parking lot—all grieving with Finn over a life taken so young.

As he'd followed Denise's casket out of the church that sad day, Finn thought he would never love anyone again, never find anyone as sweet and caring as Denise.

And he hadn't, though lately a loneliness had begun to affect him. Loneliness and a growing dissatisfaction with his life.

It didn't help that, after popping erratically in and out of his life over the past thirteen years, his mother had contacted him again a couple weeks ago. After Denise had died, the only thing he'd got from his mom had been a card with the words
I'm sorry
scrawled inside. He was thankful he'd had the support of the Moore family and Keith during that time.

Finn shook off the heavy emotions as he looked down at the memorial card the funeral director had handed him when he came into the church. Keith's stern face with his distinctive handlebar mustache stared back at him, his eyes distant. The picture was an older one Finn had taken when he and Keith had spent more time together. Was it his imagination or did he see the loneliness the man had endured over the years?

Remorse washed over Finn again as he thought of how he had neglected him recently.

At one time, Finn had spent all his extra hours at Keith's ranch, helping him with his horses while he learned farrier work. After Finn's own father died and his mother had abandoned him, Keith had been like a father to him.

But the past few years Keith had pulled away. Hadn't returned Finn's calls, wouldn't come to church. Finn had been grieving the loss of Denise, lost in his own sorrow.

He smoothed his hand over his tie, blinked back the fatigue that pulled at him after a long shift and forced a sympathetic smile to his face as the line moved on.

Lauren, one of the twins, was the first person he saw, her face drawn, her long blond hair and dark dress a sharp contrast to her younger sister's dark hair and red dress. The only similarity was the narrowness of their features. Like their mother, Finn thought, remembering a family photo he had seen the first time he'd visited the ranch.

Finn was surprised that Erin, Lauren's twin sister, was absent. Of all the girls she seemed to love being at the ranch every summer the most.

“I'm sorry for your loss,” Finn said to Lauren when he stepped up to her.

“Thanks for coming, Finn. My father thought a lot of you.” She gave him a weary smile. “I'm sure you'll miss him.”

“I will. He was good to me.”

He moved on to Jodie, surprised once more at how easily his own memories and emotions returned.

“Hello again, Jodie. Long time.”

“That it is.” She glanced up at him, and once again he felt the impact of her unsettling gaze, the contrast of her almost black hair and her intensely blue eyes. She had been pretty when she was younger. Now she was stunning, and as he shook her hand, the loneliness that lingered since Denise's death made him hold it longer than was proper.

“Glad you could make the funeral on time,” he said.

Her mouth curved in a faint smile and the ghost of a dimple appeared in one cheek.

“All thanks to you,” she said. “I appreciate getting out of the ticket.”

He frowned, glancing around. “Don't say that too loud. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Jodie laughed, catching the attention of a few people. “Well, according to Shakespeare, reputation is a burden, got without merit and lost without deserving...or something like that.”

That made Finn smile. “Did you remember that or did you make that up?”

“Google it and find out.”

He held her eyes a moment, surprised at how easy it was to fall back into the give-and-take that had attracted him the first time he talked to her. Then he caught himself. He was at a funeral, and this was Jodie. A girl more like his absent mother than his beloved fiancée. How could he forget that?

“I also want to give you condolences from Sheriff Donnelly,” Finn continued, finally pulling his hand away. “He would have come but he was busy, so he asked me to represent him, as well. Donnelly always said your father was a good sheriff. Tough, but fair.”

Jodie's smiled faded. “Yes. That was Dad. Keeping the world safe for carbon-based life forms.”

Finn wanted to smile at her quip, which was the same thing Keith McCauley had always said, but the bitterness in her voice quenched that. He didn't know what to make of it.

“Anyway, I'm sure you and your sisters will have lots to deal with in the next few days,” he continued. “Will you be staying at the Rocking M, I mean your father's ranch?”

“I will be for a couple of days. Hopefully we can get everything sorted out by then and I'll be on my way,” Jodie said. She shifted her weight, as if moving away from him, and Finn got the hint. She hadn't changed, he told himself. Jodie McCauley, on the move.

Ever since he'd watched her drive away a few hours ago, he'd found himself thinking of their past, of how Jodie had meant something to him.

When he was eighteen, it had taken him weeks to work up enough courage to ask out the daughter of his mentor, the sheriff.

He finally had and to his surprise she had accepted. They'd had a good time. He'd thought they'd connected. But she'd always insisted on meeting in Mercy, a small town thirty miles down the valley. Finn hadn't liked sneaking around, but she'd been insistent.

On their dates they would talk about their plans for the future—he wanted to start his own ranch, she wanted to play piano professionally. They would share jokes, laugh and make other plans to meet.

He'd thought things were getting serious, but then she'd stood him up one night.

The next day he'd been shocked to see her in town. She was supposed to have been leaving for Maryland that morning for an audition for the Peabody Institute, a music conservatory. Instead, she'd been hanging on the arm of Jaden Woytuk, local bad boy, laughing about the bandage on her hand that kept slipping off.

Later Finn had found out she'd gone to a party at Jaden's place the night of their date. She'd stood him up to hang out with that rough crowd.

The rest of the summer Jodie's reputation as a wild girl just got worse. And when she'd left to go home to Knoxville, that was the last he'd seen of her.

Until today.

She stood by her sister now, talking with Monty and Ellen, from Refuge Ranch. Her smile softened her features and then, to his surprise, she glanced his way. Their eyes met and he felt again that old quiver of attraction.

“Finn Hicks. I need to talk to you.”

Finn dragged his attention away from Jodie to the man standing in front of him, a mug of coffee in one hand, a chocolate brownie in the other. Vic Moore was easily as tall as Finn, but blond where he was dark, his shoulders broader. And his face was the kind that Finn knew women found attractive, with slashing eyebrows framing deep-set eyes, full lips and a strong chin. Good thing he was like a brother to Finn or he might not like him as much as he did.

“Hey, Moore.” Finn poured himself some coffee, then grabbed a brownie, which would have to do until he could get a decent meal. “What can I do for you?”

“First off, good eulogy.”

“Thanks, though it didn't seem to say enough. I'll always be grateful for the support and guidance Keith gave me.”

“You had a good relationship with him.”

“I did. I'll miss the guy.” Finn felt a touch of guilt. The past few years, he and Keith had drifted apart. Finn had gotten busier with his job as sheriff's deputy and his growing business as a farrier and horse trainer.

“Do you have time to come over tomorrow and help me round up the horses I have pastured at Keith's ranch?” Vic asked.

“Donnelly has me on a light schedule this week but I'll figure it out.” For Finn, any time spent with horses was a good day.

“Dean and I hoped to do some riding,” Vic continued. “My brother needs some distraction, and the physiotherapist cleared him to ride. But I first have to get the horses together. I figured it would be best, now that Keith is gone, to get my horses off the ranch.”

“I'll make it work.” Because he was still establishing his farrier and training business, Finn tried to fit in any potential job.

Suddenly he heard a burst of laughter, which was odd considering the circumstances, and sought out the source. Jodie stood beside Drake Neubauer, Keith's lawyer, smiling at something he had just said.

“She's even prettier than when she lived here, isn't she?” Vic said.

Finn startled, feeling as if he'd been caught doing something illegal. “What do you mean?”

“Keith's girl. Lauren.”

Guess Vic was too busy scoping out the older sister to notice Finn doing the same with Jodie.

“Yeah. She is,” he conceded. With her blond hair and blue eyes, Lauren reminded him of Denise, but the comparison ended with the stern lines on her face. Truth to tell, of the three sisters, Jodie had always intrigued him the most. The combination of her smart mouth and her troubled expression when he'd stopped her car today created a disconnect with the Jodie from his past, one that piqued his curiosity. She looked as if life had thrown her some hard curves since she'd left Saddlebank.

“Funny how those girls can be sisters, but each be so different,” Vic said, taking another sip of his coffee. “Jodie still seems to have that reckless air.”

“She was a pistol,” Finn agreed.

“That girl could outdrive, outride most of the guys in the county that last summer she was here. It was just 'cause Donnelly and Keith were buddies that Jodie managed to duck as many charges she did.”

Finn's cheeks flushed as he thought of how he had let her off a speeding ticket himself a few hours ago.

He tried to convince himself it was merely common courtesy and had nothing to do with anything Jodie said or did.

And nothing to do with those striking blue eyes and glossy dark hair.

“You gonna ask her out again?” Vic gave him a nudge with his elbow. “Not too many single girls that good-looking come through Saddlebank. I'm sure she's settled down some since she was younger.”

“I doubt I'll be asking,” Finn said, remembering too well a girl who'd spent most of that last summer she was here partying, drinking and challenging her father at every opportunity. “I don't think I'm interested.”

“Jodie's no Denise, that's for sure,” Vic continued. “But she is single. I think you should give her another chance. Maybe this time she won't stand you up.”

“You're joking, right?” Finn asked.

“Of course I am. Wouldn't want to mess up your ten-year plan,” Vic said, laughing, then sauntered out of the hall without a backward glance.

Finn shook his head at his friend's comment. He had to have a plan, he reminded himself. Changing plans and ditching people was his mother's MO. There was no way he was going to live that kind of life.

As for Jodie, his reaction to her had more to do with her past than her present. He needed to forget it. Move on.

He downed the last of his coffee. He had a few things to do at work before he headed to the Grill and Chill to grab a bite to eat. Then he'd get back to his ranch to work with a horse he was training.

But before he left he allowed himself another glance Jodie's way.

Only to find her looking at him, a peculiar expression on her face.

* * *

“So what can we do about this?”

Jodie held up the letter their father's lawyer had just given them, the noise of the Grill and Chill diner a counterpoint to the frustration simmering in her.

After the funeral, she and Lauren had met with Drake Neubauer, their father's lawyer, at his office to go over the will.

For the most part, it was straightforward. He had bequeathed half the cash in his account to the church. The rest was for any unexpected expenses incurred by his death. The ranch, horses, equipment and any remaining assets were to be split equally among the three girls.

But this letter was a complication that seemed typical of their father's need for control.

“Read it again,” Lauren said wearily. She leaned back against the booth, dragging her hands over her gaunt cheeks. Jodie guessed the weariness pulling at her sister had as much to do with her humiliation over being left at the altar eighteen months ago as Erin's puzzling and disturbing no-show at the funeral. Their sister's only contact with them the past six months had been brief text messages that communicated nothing more than basic information. Lauren and Jodie were both concerned.

“‘I know that I haven't been the best father.'” Jodie stifled a sigh at that particular understatement as she continued reading the letter aloud. “‘I know you girls never wanted to leave Knoxville and come to the ranch every summer after your mother died. I know you only came because your grandmother insisted.'” Jodie shook her head after she read that. “I don't know why that bothers me,” she said. “It's not as though he wanted us there, either.”

“No editorializing,” Lauren said with a wave of her hand.

Jodie cleared her throat and continued.

“‘But it was your first home. That's why you're getting it when I die. This cancer is gonna kill me one way or the other. And I know you're gonna sell the ranch as soon as you get it. But before you can sell it, I want each of you to spend two months on the ranch. I talked to Drake Neubauer, and he said I should change my will officially, but until I do that, consider this a condition of inheriting the ranch. You girls never appreciated it like I knew you should. So this is what I want you to do before you can sell the place. If you don't want to stay, you lose your part of the inheritance. If none of you want to stay, then I made other plans. Drake will let you know what happens if that's the case. Dad.'”