Cattleman's Honor

“Sweetie, would you set the table?” she asked as she mashed the potatoes.

Silently he complied, while Emily mounded the fluffy spuds into a bowl and fished around for something to talk about.

“Who was that guy I saw leaving right before I got home?” he asked, sparing her the trouble. “The one in the big black truck.”

As if they had so many visitors that he needed to be specific. “That was our neighbor, Adam Winchester,” she replied as she dished up some peas. “He made me an offer for this place.” As soon as the words were out, she wished she could recall them.

David froze in the middle of setting out flatware. “What did you tell him?” His hopeful tone made Emily wince.

She sighed. “We’re not selling.”

“Why not?” David demanded, his voice rising. “If you got your money back, we could go home where we belong.”

“We just got here,” Emily told him. “Won’t you please give Colorado a chance? Neither one of us belongs in L.A. any longer.”

He glowered at her, his knuckles white as he gripped the back of the chair. “I hate it here. The kids are all hayseeds, and they stare at me like I came from Pluto.”

Emily ached to see him so miserable. “What about that girl you met?” she asked. “Have you talked to her again?” She still hoped a few of the other students would be friendly enough or curious enough to make the first move.

He jammed his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans, his shoulders hunching over. “She’s busy with her own friends.”

“What about the boys?” Emily persisted. “This is a small town, and it’s not every day someone comes here from another state. They must have noticed you.”

“Like I care,” he said with a defensive sneer. “I have plenty of friends.”

And a few enemies, too, Emily thought grimly, but she didn’t voice her thoughts. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold,” she suggested as she set the plate of chicken and the bowl of mashed potatoes on the table.

David poured milk for both of them. “Why can’t we just go home?” he whined, after they’d helped themselves and started eating.

Emily gave him a long look. “You know why.”

His cheeks turned red, and his mouth took on a sulky droop. “Aw, Mom. You just overreacted,” he said. “Nothing really happened.”

She set down her fork and lifted her chin. “We’ve been over this before. We’re here now, and we’re staying, so you might as well make the best of it.”

For a moment he glared back at her defiantly. Then he shifted his gaze, picking up a drumstick and biting into it without replying.

It was time for a change of subject. “I’ve been thinking about getting a dog,” Emily announced. “We’ve certainly got the room. Would you be interested in helping me pick one out?”

David had always wanted a pet, but Stuart hadn’t liked the idea of an animal shedding on the expensive furniture and carpets of the showplace in Brentwood. Now she watched the emotions play across her son’s face. Finally, after an obvious struggle, his brooding expression lightened, reminding Emily of his habitual sunny disposition until her divorce from his father. How much David had changed in a little more than a year.

“Can we look for a dog after supper?” He was actually smiling.

Emily had to grin at his enthusiasm. “I need to call on a couple of ads from the newspaper first,” she replied. “And don’t you have homework?”

David shoveled a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Yeah, but only a little,” he mumbled. “I did most of it at lunch.” He swallowed and immediately took another bite. “I’ll do the dishes while you call.”

Chores had been one more thing she and Stuart had never agreed on, but she’d been adamant that David learn responsibility. Now that she no longer had hired help in the kitchen, she was doubly glad she’d stuck to her guns despite Stuart’s sneering remarks about women’s work. Had her husband changed so much over the years, or had she failed in the beginning to see what he was really like?

She hoped the people with dogs for sale were home. “Just for tonight I’ll do the dishes while you finish your studying.” She gave David a warm smile. Whenever she caught a glimpse of the sweet little boy she remembered beneath the cool adolescent veneer, her determination to keep her son safe at all costs was strengthened. She would have moved to the ends of the earth to protect him. Compared to that, the wilds of Colorado seemed pretty tame.

“Daddy, don’t you like the enchilada casserole?” Kim Winchester asked. “Betty and I fixed it special for you because last time you said it was so good.”

Adam blinked and glanced down at his plate, surprised to see that he’d only been picking at his food. “Uh, the casserole is great, honey. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” He gave his daughter a reassuring smile, relieved to see her worried frown melt away.

Since Kim’s mother had left when Kim was little, Adam’s daughter was the most important person in his life. Call him overprotective, but he remembered how fiercely she’d missed Christie in the beginning. He was determined to make sure no one ever hurt Kim that badly ever again.

To convince her now that he really liked the casserole, and because he’d just realized he was genuinely hungry, he dug into the mixture of meat, corn and tortillas. She watched while he rolled his eyes and chewed enthusiastically. “It’s wonderful,” he pronounced, mouth full.

Apparently satisfied, Kim turned her attention back to her own meager portion. She was built like her mother, small and slim, and she ate like a bird.

As Adam made an effort to clean his plate before the housekeeper could scold him, his thoughts went back to his earlier visit to his neighbor, Emily Major.

Even though she hadn’t bothered to introduce herself, he’d already gotten her name from county records. When he’d first recognized her, he’d felt a momentary twinge of disappointment. He’d been right—she was new to the area. Too bad she would probably be leaving again as soon as he’d bought her out. Under different circumstances he might have enjoyed getting to know her better.

His determination to acquire her twenty acres hadn’t changed since she’d turned down his offer, but the negotiations looked to be a whole lot more entertaining than he’d first figured. Now that he’d had time to think about it, he couldn’t say he was all that disappointed she hadn’t given in on his first try. At least he had an excuse to tangle with Ms. Major again.

“You look like you just beat Uncle Travis at poker,” Kim said. “What’s going on?”

Her perception startled him. If she was able to read him this easily at fifteen, the next few years could be a challenge.

“I was just thinking about a little land deal I’m working on,” he replied, sipping his water.

“Isn’t the Running W big enough for you yet?” she teased. “It’s already way bigger than any of my friends’ ranches.”

“You know how we always have to move the cattle out of the eastern pasture every summer,” he reminded her. “It’s water we need more than land.”

When it came to the actual working of the ranch, Kim hadn’t yet taken much of an interest. Someday the Running W, begun on a much smaller scale by her grandfather, would be passed on to the next generation of Winchesters. Kim was the only child Adam figured on having. Someday she’d own a third of it. Since Adam had taken over, he’d expanded the operation and put it on a solid financial footing. Too bad the old man hadn’t lived long enough to see what a good job his oldest son was doing.

“There’s a dance at school in a couple of weeks,” Kim said. “Sarah wanted to know if I was going.”

At least it wasn’t some boy doing the asking. Not yet, anyway. Dances at the high school were well chaperoned. Kim had been allowed to go to several already this year, even though Adam would have liked to keep her locked in her room until she was thirty.

“Is this the reason for the enchilada casserole?” He couldn’t resist teasing. “Soften the old man up first?”

Kim looked mildly indignant, but the flush on her cheeks gave her away. “Of course not. All of my friends will be there, and I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“Well, if Sarah’s parents can drive one way, I’m sure somebody here can manage to pick you up,” Adam conceded.

“Billie Campbell got his driver’s license.” Kim picked up her roll and began tearing it into pieces. “Sarah said he might be able to borrow his dad’s car.”

Before Kim had finished talking, Adam was already shaking his head. “Billie Campbell lives clear on the other side of town, and I don’t want you riding with someone who just got his license.”

“Da-ad!” she wailed, dropping the roll onto her plate. “That’s not fair. I’m too old for my father to drive me.”

“You’re fifteen. Life isn’t always fair,” he replied evenly, unwilling to argue with her, “but I’ll be happy to provide transportation. Let me know what you decide.” Billie Campbell was barely sixteen, a mass of hormones with all the sense of a bull calf. Adam might not be able to bar boys like him from the dance or keep them away from Kim, but he wasn’t about to let his daughter in a car with one of them behind the wheel.

For a moment she glared at him, lower lip poked out, but then she sighed dramatically. “Okay. Can I at least get something new to wear?”