His Favorite Cowgirl

“How’s Paul? Any change?”

She twisted the cap on a bottle of water she’d grabbed from the fridge. “He’s still the same. The hospital sent in a caseworker. Margie Johnson. Do you know her?” When Hank shook his head, she went on. “She suggested I talk to Pops’s lawyer, get myself appointed his legal guardian.”

Hank grabbed his shovel and disappeared into the stall. His voice floated over the partition. “You’ll be sticking around, then?”

Kelly brushed the back of one hand across her face. Though anyone else might have thought her high school sweetheart sounded indifferent, she caught the quiet awareness in his voice. More for herself than for him, she shook her head. “Only till I find someone to run things here. I’m not staying,” she said firmly.

A shovelful of manure landed in the bottom of the wheelbarrow. She shrugged. Hank’s interest had died as quickly as it’d flared, which only confirmed how little he’d changed over the years. She returned to the business at hand. “You say there’s no one in the bunkhouse?”

“From the looks of things, it’s been empty for some time.” He answered without a break in his rhythmic shoveling.

Kelly struggled to keep pace. “It looks like he’s been trying to run this place on his own. Has anyone at the Circle P said anything?”

“I’ll ask.” Hank’s damp T-shirt had molded to his muscular chest. He swapped his shovel for a rake.

“You don’t know?” Her grandfather might not have trucked with the Parkers, but neighbors usually kept tabs on one another.

“Haven’t been here that long myself.” Across the aisle, Hank piled soiled straw into the wheelbarrow before hefting the handles and heading for the back door. “I’m only filling in till Randy and Royce come back.”

“It’s hard to think of the twins being all grown up. They were still in elementary school the last time I saw them.” Her motions slowed. Though she’d fallen out of touch with her classmates, she occasionally checked the high school’s Facebook page, where, several months before, someone had posted Seth Judd’s obituary. “I was sorry to hear about your dad.” For the eight years she’d lived on the Bar X, Seth and Doris had shown her more kindness than her own relatives had. “He was too young.”

A strained “Yeah, it sucks” was the only answer she got, as Hank dumped the load on the refuse pile. He pushed his way back down the barn’s wide aisle. “Mom’s at Garrett’s. He and his wife teach school in Atlanta. Or they did till Arlene got pregnant. But things aren’t going well, and Mom’s there for the duration.”

Problems with the pregnancy? Kelly sipped air. Praying Hank wouldn’t notice the way her fingers had spread protectively over her belly, she turned away from him. “And Colt?” she asked over one shoulder, brushing aside the pain the same way she had every day for the past twelve years.

Metal scraped against wood as Hank moved into another stall. “He fell in love with the Circle P’s new cook and got married last month. That was some wedding.”

“I’m sure it was.” But thinking of weddings only brought up more old pain. She turned aside, working without saying anything more until the sweet smell of fresh bedding filled the air. She stepped into the aisle while Hank trundled the empty wheelbarrow the length of the barn. At some point, he’d removed his shirt. Sweat glistened on his toned and hardened muscles. She couldn’t help it when her eyes slid down his sculpted abs to the pair of jeans he wore low across his hips.

Despite a stern reminder that Hank had proven himself a fair-weather lover, her mouth went dry. Reaching for her bottle, she gulped the last of the water. The days when she had thought Hank Judd hung the moon and all the stars in the sky—those days were over. The life she’d built to fill the void he’d left waited for her in Houston. And the sooner she got her grandfather situated, the sooner she could return to it.

* * *

“WANT TO BRING the horses in?” A few hours earlier, the barn hadn’t been fit for man nor beast, but a proper mucking and fresh bedding had put things to right. Or at least, right enough that Paul’s big gray gelding and pretty little mare didn’t need to spend another night in the corral.

At Kelly’s nod, Hank stepped aside, letting her take the lead. As she wiped sweat and dirt from her slim arms, he shook his head. Who would have guessed the cool sophisticate who’d shown up at the hospital would match him scoop for scoop as they worked in the barn? At some point, Kelly had swapped ostrich skin, rhinestones and designer jeans for serviceable boots and a pair of Wranglers that managed to hug her slender frame in all the right places. Little by little, the superior attitude that had reminded him more of his ex-wife than of the first girl to win his heart had slipped away, as well.

Not that she was the same person he remembered. Though he caught glimpses of the freckle-faced teen who had lost her virginity with him on a blanket beside Lake Okeechobee homecoming night, she’d grown into a woman with ample curves. She’d smoothed and polished her soft Southern drawl since the days when they’d been a whole lot more interested in sneaking off to their spot behind the bleachers than sitting through Ms. Cunningham’s algebra class. He wondered if she’d remained single, but quashed the idea that she’d stayed true to him. After all, she was the one who’d chucked their relationship aside over one admittedly stupid mistake. Convinced she’d come to her senses and one day want him back, he’d concentrated on the rodeo while he waited her out. But she hadn’t forgiven him. Not then. Not ever. Instead, she’d split the day after graduation. She hadn’t been back since. He didn’t know a thing about the woman she’d become.

“Where do you hang your hat these days?” While Kelly clipped lead ropes onto halters, he hefted the gelding’s saddle from a fence rail.

“Houston. I’m a regional manager for Palmetto Boots.” She took off for the barn, the horses trailing her.

Working for the world’s best-known boot manufacturer explained the fancy footwear she’d sported at the hospital. “Been with them long?” he asked, dropping the saddle onto a sawhorse in the tack room.

“Ever since Pops kick—ever since I left.” She settled the gelding into one stall, the fawn-colored mare into another. “I started out stocking shelves. Took night classes. Earned a degree in business. Hard work and a little bit of luck put me on the fast track to the corporate level. I’m in the middle of negotiating a big contract with Ivey’s.”

Hank caught a hint of pride in her voice and figured she deserved it for nailing a contract with the largest chain in the South. “Good for you,” he called, grabbing curry combs and brushes from pegs near the door. He’d always known she was meant for bigger things, though there’d been a time when he’d thought they’d conquer the world together.

Kelly checked the gelding’s coat for burrs. “So how about you? Last I heard, you were rodeoing.”

Hank whistled. “Haven’t done that in...” Ten years and eight months. He straightened the frown that sprang to his lips. “Rodeo’s no life for a family man. I sort of—” he paused, searching for the right word “—fell into real estate. Mostly in North Florida. The Tallahassee area.”

“Sales, huh?” Kelly grabbed one of the curry combs he’d balanced on the top rail. “Never figured you for a suit and tie.”

“It took some getting used to.” He caught her arched eyebrow over the horse’s hindquarters. She knew him well. Too well.

“Business must be good if you can take this much time away from it.” She began brushing.

“I’ve done okay.” Although not lately. A nation-wide recession had all but sunk the housing market. Not that he’d admit those failures to the woman he’d once dreamed of building a future with, especially not when hers had turned out so well. “Let’s just say losing Dad made me re-examine some things. I realized family had to come first. Mine needed me here, so here I am.” He bit his tongue. From the shape of things on the Bar X, it looked as though her grandfather could use some help, too.

Kelly’s green eyes pinned him. “My future is in Texas,” she said, leaving no room for misinterpretation. She took a breath. “If you’re in real estate, though, you must know the market better than I do. What’s a place like this going for these days?”

“You don’t want to hang on to it?” The Bar X had been in the Tompkins family far longer than the Circle P had belonged to the Parkers. He watched carefully as Kelly’s gaze swept through the barn.

“I might not have that option. I found a couple of final notices from the tax office on the dining room table.”

A trip to the hardware store and some elbow grease would fix broken steps and door hinges, but a man who didn’t pay his tax bill could lose his birthright to the highest bidder at the county auction. He and Colt were going to the next one in...

Hank gulped. “You don’t have much time. The tax sale is in three weeks. October first.”

Kelly’s hands, which had been working a comb through the gelding’s long mane, stilled.

“Crap,” she whispered at last. “How’d he let things get this bad? I was hoping to sell the ranch to pay for Pops’s care, but...” A pair of expressive brows rose over rapidly widening eyes. “Those nursing homes the social worker mentioned—I spoke with a couple of them on my way out here. They’re mighty proud of what amounts to three squares and a room. I’ve stayed in five-star hotels that didn’t charge as much.”

“That’s down the road though, right? First, he’ll be in rehab till his leg heals?” Hank worked a pick through the little mare’s hooves. “The way I see it, your first priority has to be the taxes. You have the money?”

Kelly sighed. “I have enough in savings to pay the bill. It won’t leave much.”

He propped his elbows on the mare’s back. “You pay those taxes. It’ll buy you some time to figure out what to do next. Meanwhile, your grandfather’s Brahmans have already overgrazed that pasture. They need to be moved.” In a gesture that stirred a long-forgotten urge to be her hero, Kelly tucked her bottom lip beneath her teeth. He swallowed. “Look, the job’s too big for one person, which is probably why Paul didn’t get around to it. I can spare a couple of the boys for the day or so it’ll take to move those cows. Any longer than that, though, and you’ll have to clear it with Ty.”

Tugging on the end of her ponytail, Kelly stepped back. She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t expect you to solve my problems for me, Hank. Ty, either.”

“Hey, we’re just talking.” Uncertain where the conversation had veered off track, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “There was a time when we could talk about anything.”

“That was different.” Kelly’s arms remained in place, her posture stiff. “We were friends.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “We were a lot more than friends.”

The gelding pawed the wooden floorboards as Kelly stared at a spot somewhere over his left shoulder. “Those days are done,” she whispered. “I’m not interested in starting over.”

“Me, either.” Even if he was dumb enough to take up with a woman who’d walked away from him without so much as a second glance, with all he had going on this year, starting up with his old girlfriend again had bad idea written all over it.

“Just so you know,” Kelly said, thawing a bit.

“No problem. I’m just trying to be neighborly.” He grabbed a brush and gave the little mare another rub down. While he worked, he explained, “Besides, you know the Parkers. They’ll insist on helping with your grandfather’s cattle till he’s on his feet again.” For good measure, he added, “Any of us would.”

Kelly appeared to mull things over. With a sigh, she dropped her arms to her sides, the fight seeping out of her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”