Part Time Cowboy

She walked down the hall and pushed open the doors to each of the four bedrooms. They all had gorgeous four-poster beds. They would need all-new linens and drapes, but she’d been expecting that. The two bedrooms on the backside of the house faced the thick, undeveloped forest, and the other two provided views of a bright green field, dotted with cows.

All the rooms needed blinds to block the light so guests could sleep as late as they liked, and do whatever they wanted with no privacy concerns.

Two rooms had private bathrooms, while two others had to share one in the hall—not ideal, but given the age of the house, that it was as well-appointed as it was was sort of a miracle.

All it would take was a bit of scrubbing, polishing and the addition of matching molding. Also, some knickknacks, new furniture and a carload of linens.

The shopping would be the fun part. She would try to keep it local so that the finished product reflected Copper Ridge. She was really getting into this whole concept of community.

For now, she was going to go and hunt for those tools Connor said were in the shed. What she would do with them was up for debate, but she had a kind of driving need to do whatever she could.

Sadie tromped down the steps and into the yard, the bark-laden ground soft beneath her tennis shoes, dew from the weeds flinging up onto her pant legs and sending a chill through her.

It wasn’t warm yet this morning, but the wind was still, the trees around her seeming to close in tight, sheltering her and her new house from the outside world.

She whistled, the sound echoing off the canopy of trees, adding to the feeling of isolation. She liked it. And even more than that, her guests would like it.

Well, they’d better, anyway, since she was committed to five years here. Claustrophobia’s icy fingers wound their way around her neck when the thought hit. Five years. In one place. In Copper Ridge, no less, the keeper of her hang-ups and other issues.

You’re confronting your past. It’s what you’d tell a patient to do.

Her inner voice was right. But her inner voice could go to hell. She wasn’t in the mood to confront things. She was just...trying to feel a little less wrong. A little less restless.

A little less like she was a rolling tumbleweed. Or a running-at-full-tilt tumbleweed.

She’d given so much advice that she’d never once followed. Facing fears, facing the old things that held power over a person. Going back to a point of trauma and seeing that it held no magical properties.

Well, she was following it now.

She zipped up her hoodie, fortifying herself against the general dampness that clung to the air, and walked down the path that should lead her to the shed.

An engine roar disturbed her silence, and she turned to see a black truck barreling down the long, secluded drive that led to her house.

She stopped and watched, trying to catch a glimpse of the driver. She failed, but she figured it was too grand an entrance for someone who wanted to Freddy Krueger her, so she was probably good.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and headed back to where the truck had parked. “Hello?”

“Hi.”

The feminine voice that greeted her wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Neither was the petite brunette who dropped down from the driver’s side, wearing a flannel shirt and a pair of Carhartts. Her braid flipped down over her shoulder as her boots hit the ground, and she looked up and smiled.

Sadie vaguely remembered that there was a female Garrett, but she’d never known her. Unsurprising, really, since this girl looked wholesome and shiny, and all the things Sadie had never been.

“Kate,” she said, extending her hand. “Kate Garrett. The sister.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sadie said, shaking the other woman’s hand.

“I didn’t want to drop by last night because I thought it would be rude, but I thought I’d stop in today just to say hi. And to ask what all your plans are.”

There was something wide-eyed and sweet about Kate, something that stood in contrast to her firm handshake and confident manner. She was strength, and openness, and for a moment, Sadie envied that. The bravery it must take.

“Well, I have plans to turn the house into a B and B that will hopefully be ready for guests in about a month and a half.” She put her hands on her hips and let out a long breath. “Enough time to get things arranged, and to settle in, hopefully.”

“If you need any help, or anything, I’m happy to give it. I work at the Farm and Garden, and I know a lot about plants, animals, general repair stuff.”

It stunned her, yet again, how nice people had been to her—exception being Eli—since she’d shown up. She’d imagined...she didn’t know. She’d turned Copper Ridge into such a dark place in her mind that she’d been sure people would all but greet her with torches and pitchforks. And yet, no one had.

Facing your demons, and finding out there aren’t quite as many as you thought?

“That’s really nice, but I don’t want to take any of your time,” Sadie said.

“Really, I don’t have a whole lot happening right now. Just work. And it’s very male around here, so it’s nice to have a more feminine influence.”

It occurred to her then that it was time to stop resisting connections. Five years, remember?

“If I need something, I’ll take you up on that,” she said. “You’ll be better company than a random hired hand.”

Kate laughed. “I try. What are you after today?”

“Trim. Light fixtures. I might look at new hardware for the cabinets.”

Kate wrinkled her nose, then looked at the house, and at Sadie’s car. “If you have renovation stuff to buy, you aren’t fitting it in there. Ten pounds of potatoes, five-pound sack. But if you want, you can come in with me and use my truck to make deliveries back to the property. You just need to be able to pick me up at closing time.”

Sadie hadn’t had a firm plan for the day, but she couldn’t deny that the use of a truck had a very high chance of coming in handy.

Her immediate gut response was to say no. Because accepting help meant the possibility of needing to pay someone back. Sadie was fine giving help, and expecting nothing in return. But she’d always been afraid of leaving town owing a debt.

But you’re staying here. At least for a while.

“Thank you, Kate,” she said. “That’s so nice of you. I would really appreciate your help.”

* * *

“WELL, SHIT,” CONNOR SAID, looking around the field. “I think we missed a calf.”

Eli straightened and wiped the sweat off his forehead. It hadn’t seemed too hot earlier, but now the sun was high in the sky, beating down on them. The middle of the field provided no shade, and the work they’d been doing wasn’t easy.

“You think?” he asked, looking around the field and spotting a red angus, one of the few reds who had ever popped up in their herd, who he knew full well had been ready to birth a while back. “Oh, yeah. She calved already.”

“And I don’t see baby. Which means she’s got him hidden somewhere, or he’s dead.”

“Dammit.” Eli tugged his T-shirt up over his head and mopped the sweat off his chest before chucking the shirt on the ground and getting up onto his horse. “Let’s go find him.”

Eli spurred his horse on. “Got her number?” he asked, meaning the identification number on the mother cow’s ear.

“Yeah, I know it.”

“I’m going to guess he’s under the trees somewhere.” Eli gestured to the back of the field that led toward the houses. It was still heavily wooded, providing the herd with a place to escape the weather.