The Cowboy's Return

The thought made her smile.

“What’s so funny, Mom?”

She rinsed a handful of silverware and passed them to Austin. “I just feel good.”

“It’s Mitch.” Austin nodded sagely. “Even Bo likes him, and Bo doesn’t usually let strangers near me. I hope he’s around for a while,” he added in almost a whisper, as if wishing it out loud would destroy the possibility.

“Can’t afford him for long, honey. Sounds like he doesn’t stay in one place for any amount of time, either.”

“I know. Why doesn’t he tell us his last name? Do you think he’s hiding from someone?”

“I don’t have an answer for that, Austin. He must have a good reason.”

Done with the dishes, she nudged him with her hip until he smiled.

“A day at a time,” she said, crooking her pinky finger at him.

He hooked hers with his, something they’d done every day since her ex left. “Day at a time.”

An hour later the evening chores were done. They sat on the porch, Annie and Austin on a glider, Mitch in a rocker. No one spoke for a few minutes.

“Your coop needs some repairs,” Mitch said.

Annie pulled up a knee and wrapped her arm around it, staring at the horizon. “Yep.”

“Got any chicken wire?”

“Nope. So far they haven’t figured out they can escape. It’ll have to wait until the new greenhouse is up. That’s my priority. That’s my income. The chickens just help keep us fed.”

“I’d be just as worried about something else getting in. Foxes, even wild dogs, valley coyote. Even a cat could cause damage.”

Annie’s heart sank. Of course he was right. She hadn’t even considered it.

“Chicken talk,” Austin said with a sigh. “Can I go play video games instead?”

“Sure.”

He disappeared inside almost before she said the word.

Mitch stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles, looking comfortable. “You mentioned something about expanding your flower beds into the acreage behind the orchard. Is that something you plan to do this year?”

“Probably not. I’ll leave it as is, in case I need to sell part of the property to stay afloat.”

“Can you sell just a portion?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t checked into it.” She sighed. “Two people tried to buy my entire property last year. I turned them down, obviously.”

“Who were they?”

“Cattle ranchers. Shep Morgan and … I forget the other guy’s first name, but his last is Ryder. You probably know them.”

He shoved himself out of the chair and moved to the railing, his body stiff. “Did they pressure you?”

“Nicely, but yes. I continued to say no. Nicely. They seem to be rivals who seem to be on the same page.”

“In what way?”

“They’re waiting for me to fail. One of Morgan’s sons pops in now and then, and asks if I need help with anything. Just being a good neighbor and all that. His name is Win. I see it for the ploy it is, since I discovered that the Morgans own the land surrounding mine.”

Curious at how quiet Mitch was, she joined him at the railing so that she could see his face. “My ex, Rick, would’ve sold to them, but I bargained for keeping it as my part of the divorce settlement.”

“Is this your only income?”

She didn’t know why she was giving him so much personal information, except that he was easy to talk to. “Rick’s faithful with child support. How about you? Do you have any kids?”

“No. I was married once when I was very young. It didn’t last long.” He eyed her. “Do you have a long-range business plan?”

She laughed softly. “Long, short and everything in between.” She spent every evening on the internet searching out grant money, any way of making income that could help her hang on longer, until she could succeed on her own labors. She would have gone back to waiting tables in the evening to generate extra income, but she couldn’t leave Austin on his own, and paying a sitter would cancel out her earnings. “I love this place. I’ll do anything to keep it.”

“There’s no sense driving yourself to an early grave over a piece of land, Annie.”

“Spoken like a vagabond. Well, I’ve been a vagabond. Roots are so much better.” She shoved away from the railing. “I have work to do.”

Annie went inside, her good mood having fizzled. What did he know about the need to own, to succeed? He didn’t have a child to support and raise right. Who was he to give such advice?

Mitch hadn’t come in by the time Austin went to bed and she’d showered and retreated to her own room. It wasn’t even dark yet. She pulled down her shades, blocking the dusky sky. Usually she dropped off almost the instant her head hit the pillow.

Tonight she listened for sounds of him, the stranger she was trusting to treat her and her son right. After a while, she heard him come in, then the click of the front door lock. A few minutes later the shower came on. She pictured him shampooing his hair, which curled down his neck a little, inviting fingers to twine it gently.

Some time passed after the water turned off. Was he shaving? Yes. She could hear the tap of his razor against the sink edge. If they were a couple, he would be coming to bed clean and smooth-shaven….

The bathroom door opened and closed, followed by his bedroom door. After that there was only the quiet of a country night, marked occasionally by an animal rustling beyond her open window. She’d finally stopped jumping at strange noises, had stopped getting up to look out her window, wondering what was there. She could identify most of the sounds now.

And tonight she would sleep even better, knowing a strong man was next door. She could give up her fears for a while, get a solid night’s sleep and face the new day not alone, not putting on a show of being okay and in control for Austin.

Now if she could just do something about her suddenly come-to-life libido, all would be right in her world.

Chapter Three

At five-thirty the next morning, Mitch climbed the porch stairs. He’d been up for a while, Bo joining him as he walked the property and made a list of what needed to be done, sorting through a personal dilemma at the same time.

His father wanted Annie’s land. So did Shep Morgan. Morgan’s interest was understandable, since he owned the land surrounding her property. But his father? His only reason would be if he wanted to use it as leverage for a deal later. Mitch’s dad and Shep were both smart businessmen.

Ever since the gold rush more than a century and a half ago, the Ryders and the Morgans had ranched these parts, were stewards of this majestic land. Over time, however, cycles of drought, pestilence and the Great Depression had forced both families to sell much of their land. In the past forty years they had been buying back property, reclaiming their heritage and rebuilding their dynasties.

Theirs wasn’t a Hatfield-and-McCoy-style feud, but a fierce, relentless competition for domination of land and cattle holdings.

And now they both wanted Annie’s land. If she knew Mitch was a Ryder, she would send him packing, maybe even decide he was part of a ploy to get her land for his family. He wasn’t ready to go home yet, but also she needed him—someone, anyway—to get her greenhouse operational, if she stood a chance at all to turn a profit.