Kiersten hummed along with Cher as she drove to the ranch to pick up Oscar and her mail. She wanted to talk to Grandpa about renting Cleve access to the BLM parcel.
“Don’t know why you won’t just sell out and retire.”
“Dammit, Grandpa. I’m not selling it.”
His arms crossed over his stubborn old chest. “I can sell it without you and there ain’t a thing you can do about it.”
Luck was on her side today. Her vision blurred with tears, playing on the guilt he so deserved for that comment. “Go ahead and watch me be a spinster for life, just to spite you.”
He gazed at her for a full minute, chewing the inside of his lower lip. Then he threw back his head and laughed like she hadn’t seen him do in years. “You’re bull-headed enough to do it, too, aren’t ya?” He wiped the corners of his eyes. “Tell the cotton-picker we want fifteen hundred.”
“You sure that’s enough? I heard him today telling one of the cowboys that I’m a dirt-poor field-maggot rancher.”
His eyes narrowed as Nate gave an appropriately dramatic gasp. “You know what? I think five thousand is more like it. Maybe the rotten bastard’ll learn to keep his insultin mouth zipped.”
Nate lifted one brow. “Is this Cleve’s money, or Big Daddy’s?”
She shrugged. “I think CJ is bankrolling whatever it takes to set Cleve up in a respectable operation. Cleve said we’d be sticking it to his Pop if we gouged ’em.”
Grandpa leaned back in his chair, looking her over. “You seem pretty friendly with Cleve.”
“Yeah. I better get on the road.” Her eyes widened in silent communication with Nate, who coughed into his hands. “I still haven’t got my garden in.”
“Hey, don’t forget your mail,” Nate called, hurrying after her when she’d kissed Grandpa goodbye. “So, is Rapunzel expecting a visit from Prince Charming tonight?”
“I won’t be there alone, Nate.” She sighed, failing to act put out.
He grinned and tugged a hank of her hair. “Lucky little bitch.”
* * * *
Before meeting his guests at the gas station, Cleve had a phone call to make.
“Yello?” Pop answered.
“Hey Pop, it’s me. Rowdy tells me you arranged Miss Whitney’s trip out.”
“That’s right, son. No need to thank me, though. Ah was a randy young man mahself, not long ago.”
He could just see Pop kicked back in his den with a lit cigar. The old man was not going to appreciate what he had to say.
He fiddled with his keys dangling from the ignition. “Pop, I’m sendin her home as quick as I can get her a plane ticket.”
“Say what? You can’t send her back. She’ll get in a snit and tell her daddy. Parker Pearson and Ah got a business understandin. We can’t have no trouble over his little girl gettin her feelins hurt. Bed her a few nights, get it outta your system. She’s gotta go back to practice soon anyhow. You know she’s a cheerleader for the Cowboys now?”
Thanks to the clear connection, he could hear Pop draw an angry puff on his cigar.
“Pop, I know that, but I’m not interested in Whitney. You’ll have to find a way to smooth it over with Mr. Pearson.”
“Not...Not interested? Boy, you jumpin tracks on me too, like Clay?”
The jiggling keys took a good slam against the steering column. “No. I’m not gay. No disrespect intended, but I can find women all on my own now. There’s lotsa tails to chase right here in Colorado.”
“Oh yeah, lots of tails. Connivin, sneakin little tails whisperin in your ears about how much their property means to ’em, huh? Turnin young Cleve against his daddy in spite of all the hard work he’s done.”
“Pop.” He scrubbed his face with his palms in frustration. Maybe announcing Rocky’s offer would help Pop’s mood. “I’m workin on a deal with Kiersten, to access the public land across a corner of her place.”
“A deal? Horse shit! Her grandpappy’s ready to sell me the whole shebang, and you’re happy to make a deal with the woman? Son, Ah’ve got half a mind to come out there and show you how business is done.”
“Winston isn’t interested in sellin anymore. And I don’t want you out here, makin enemies of all the neighbors I’ll have to live around.”
“Neighbors. Hmph! Hell, if a man’s successful, he don’t have neighbors. That Day woman has caused me too much trouble already. You keep workin on your deal with her. Maybe she’ll be distracted enough to let the old man alone, and Ah can get him to deal with me.” Pop chuckled. “In the meantime, Miss Whitney stays. She can hitch home with Clay when he comes back next week.”
“Pop!” Such a stubborn old cuss. He threw his hands up in defeat, then started his truck. He’d better get to the filling station. Even the Suburban’s big tank would surely be full by now.
“Practice your politics, son. Only reason Ah let ya piddle around in the Rangers as long as Ah did was to learn some politics.”
A week of Whitney? No amount of time in the Rangers would prepare a man for that. She’d dazzled him before, but now... Far more trouble than she was worth. All that makeup and perfume. All the fooling around getting pretty in the morning.
“Lord.”
“Have a go at her a couple times before she leaves, son. She’s a pretty little thing, and you’ll feel a sight better. Time you find yourself a regular woman and settle down soon, anyhow.”
“It ain’t gonna be with a girl like Whitney.”
He knew exactly what kind of woman he planned to settle down with, and she wasn’t much like Whitney Pearson at all.
Once they’d arrived at the Flyin H, his ranch hands were underimpressed with their new lodgings. “Hell, I’ve seen bunkhouses fixed up nicer’n this,” Rowdy bellyached.
“Sorry your ten room mansion isn’t in order yet, Your Highness,” he said, bowing low. “Perhaps you’d rather take the young lady to the city and obtain more acceptable accommodations?” Too bad one of the guys wouldn’t take him up on the offer.
Cash laughed so hard he fell to the dusty driveway before he even got the inside tour. “Whoo! Ole Chaz really outdid himself this time, didn’t he?”
Whitney was speechless. For the first time since Cleve had known her, she was bereft of verbal complaint. But when she broke her silence, she’d do it in a big way.
Poor Dusty got the chore of lugging her massive luggage inside so she could “freshen up”.
When Dusty reappeared outside the door, Cleve peeked around the corner of the house, waving for him to follow. The men snuck away up the nearest hill.
“Might be kinda awkward around here for a few days,” he warned the guys after pointing out the property boundaries. “Miss Whitney’s gonna be stayin until Clay leaves.” His news met with groans all around. “The good news is, she’ll be stayin in my room.” He got a few questioning looks. “Bad news is, I won’t be there. Ms. Day next door’s had some personal threats, so I’ll be spendin my nights at her place.”
“Such a hero,” Dusty said, shaking his head in mock awe. “You get tired of pullin night patrol, I’ll pitch in a hand.”
“Another thing.” Cleve crossed his arms over his chest, but cast a tolerant smile on the kid. “Kiersten’s taken.”
Short and simple, his directive was fully understood.
Rowdy clucked his tongue. “Whitney know about this arrangement?”
“I reckon she’ll find out soon enough,” he answered. “Feel free to keep her any kind of company you want.” Although ranch hands were beneath the class of men Whitney would consider for relationships, he doubted she’d complain about any male attention. “Tomorrow we’ll get started repairin fences, hopefully be done by Monday. Then we’ll get the corrals built.”
Whitney didn’t let up all afternoon. Didn’t take her long to abandon pouting over Kiersten. His legs were asleep from her perching on his lap and interrupting his conversations with the men.
And the look she’d given him when he served reheated frozen burritos for supper...
He hadn’t quite told her she’d be sleeping alone when his cellphone rang.
“Cleve?” Kiersten, panicked, didn’t wait for a reply. “Can you please come over here, quick?”
Did he hear her cocking a gun?
“Be right there,” he vowed, and tossed a quick “Night, everybody,” on his way out.