Part Time Cowboy

“It’s over. It’s signed. I’m not discussing it any further,” Connor said.

Eli leaned back against the counter and took a long drink of his beer.

Kate shrugged. “It might be nice to have a woman around again.”

“She’s not going to be around,” Eli said. “She’s running a bed-and-breakfast, apparently. There’s a difference between that and her being around. This is a big property.”

“I was just saying. And maybe I’ll go visit her,” Kate mused.

“Eli’s right, Katie,” Connor said. “Everything is going to be kept separate.”

“That’s fine.” Kate picked at the top of her pizza. “But I do think it would be nice to bring her something. A housewarming something. Foodstuffs. Small-town hospitality in action and all.”

“Feel free to deliver foodstuffs,” Connor told her. “I don’t give a sh—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Kate said. “You don’t. About anything. I get it. You’re a grumpy codger and you aren’t going to be sociable. Ever. Again. I won’t make you.”

“Good,” he said.

Kate turned to Eli, her brown eyes wide.

Eli put his hands up. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I’m not joining your small-town welcoming committee.”

“Fine. I’ll be the representative for this family. And try to prove we weren’t—” she took a bite of her pizza and spoke around a mouthful of cheese “—raised by fucking wolves.”

“Well, we’ll leave that up to you,” Eli said. “I have faith in you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’m going to head home,” Eli said. “I’ll leave the pizza.”

That earned him a thanks from Kate and a grunt—no surprise—from Connor.

“I’ve got the afternoon off tomorrow,” Eli added, “so that means I’ll be by to help out. Do you have anything big going?”

“Not a lot. We have to tag the calves this weekend, though. Are you free?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be around for that.”

He was in law enforcement by choice, but he was a rancher by blood. He, Connor and Kate all did some local rodeo events now and then, too, though Kate was by far the most successful and was looking to turn pro when she got the chance.

Of course, the fact that he was either working for the county or working on the ranch was a big part of why he had no social life. But he didn’t really miss it. Unless he was horny. Then he kind of missed it.

“Great,” Connor said. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“See ya.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen, through the entryway and onto the porch. He stood for a minute and looked out at the property, and at the light in the distance. The light that was coming from the Catalog House.

Sadie Miller was in there. On a five-year lease. Damn it all, it didn’t get much more disrupting to his sense of order than that. Of course, the past couple of years had been one big, giant disruption for their family.

They all felt the loss of Jessie. And they all felt the hole that her death had carved into Connor. He wasn’t the same. He never would be.

But then, that was the way this place was. Or at least, that seemed to be the way love was for their family. You got it, you lost it.

It had started with the first generation of Garretts on this land. His great-great-grandfather had ordered that house and had it built. His great-great-grandmother had lived in it for only two years before getting pneumonia and dying.

Then there were his great-grandparents. His great-grandmother had died in childbirth, leaving her husband a shell of a man, barely capable of keeping the land going, and not entirely managing to keep track of his children. His grandfather had run off with a woman from town, leaving his grandmother to raise her kids alone. And then there were his parents.

Their mother had gone when Kate was a toddler. Off to God knew where. Somewhere warmer and sunnier. Somewhere with men in suits instead of spurs.

A place without needy kids and the smell of cows.

But it had left her husband to sink into a mire of alcoholism and despair.

It had left Connor to grow up at fifteen. And for Eli to follow right along with him.

And all that pain had started in the house that now sheltered Sadie Miller. It seemed fitting in some ways. Since she was a pain in his butt.

He walked down the steps to the driveway, then headed down the path that took him the back way to his house.

Sadie Miller wouldn’t be a problem, because he wouldn’t let her become one.

He was the law around here, after all.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_f2dac781-fa57-581d-a268-d8768f9bdfb1)

SADIE WOULD VENTURE down into town today at some point. Grab some supplies. After she’d taken inventory, of course. She knew there were some tools in the shed, per the typed-up—and very brief—note Connor had left on the kitchen counter.

But until she had some clue about what sort of work she might need to do, the tools were fairly useless. She had some basic information on the minor flaws in the house, but there were other things she wanted to tackle.

Most of the place had the original wood paneling. Wainscoting that went halfway up the walls, which were painted a deep cream. The wooden detail was echoed on the ceiling, crossbeams forming a checkerboard over the plaster ceiling.

It looked like the crown molding in a few of the rooms had been replaced at some point, and it didn’t match. Which meant she was going to need to take it down, and then mount some new stuff.

That wasn’t a part of her original plan, but she had a little cushion for some surprises. And money set aside for some major projects, like the addition of a back deck. And since structural issues were Connor’s problem, she didn’t anticipate running into anything that would absolutely kill her budget.

Some people might call her a flake, but she was a well-educated flake with a basic understanding of money management.

She walked into the kitchen, and to the walk-in pantry that was larger than some bedrooms she’d had in her years of apartments. The solid wood shelves had a fine layer of dust over them. A mop and broom standing in the corner were the only residents, except for a few daddy longlegs hanging on the ceiling.

She made a mental note to take care of those guys later and walked back out into the kitchen, opening up cabinets that were mainly empty. There was one cabinet filled with mismatched teacups, and she counted that as a good find.

A quirky touch to add to the place. As inspiration went, it was a good place to start.

She wandered back through the dining room, which was nearly dominated by a large wooden table that was scarred from years of use. Refinishing that would go on her list of to-dos, but not for a while. She’d throw a tablecloth on it for now.

Out in the hall, the old wooden floor squeaked under her feet. Weirdly, she liked the sound. Liked the reminder of the age of the house.

The boards on the stairs were the same, her fingertips leaving a light trail on the banister as they cut through the thin film of dust. The house had obviously been cleaned when the previous tenant had left; it had just been a couple of years since anyone had been back inside.