Last Chance Cowboy. Leigh Riker
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believe him,” she continued. “Wanted to believe you could be innocent and that we could be together again, get married and keep...our baby. I asked Doc if he though Derek and Calvin were lying about what happened, and he just told me to keep an open mind. And to talk to you—make a decision together.”
“Why didn’t you?” Grey pressed.
At first she didn’t answer. She’d gone to Doc as a last resort, but she trusted his advice. So why hadn’t she been able or willing to follow it? Shadow remembered hearing Ida, still on the phone in the outer room.
Doc’s wife was the nosiest woman Shadow knew and her mother called Ida the town’s best gossip. Suddenly, Shadow had been overcome with worry that she would walk in at any moment, that if Ida learned the truth, she’d broadcast it for sure, only adding to the scandal of Jared’s death. That was when the enormity of the situation had hit her.
“I don’t know,” she told Grey, finally. “I was so overwhelmed. Doc took me in for the night and said we could discuss the...options in the morning. And then once everything was decided—” He’d told Shadow he would handle Ida.
Before Shadow realized how Grey might interpret that, she watched another emotion cross his face. He snatched the black Stetson from his knee, clamped it on his head then stood abruptly. “What did you do, Shadow?” He didn’t wait for her answer.
“Grey—”
“No,” he said, his hand already on the doorknob. He looked confused, conflicted. Overwhelmed. He had every right to be. “I need to think about this.” He walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Shadow sank back in her chair, filled with regret. For ten years, only three other people had known about Ava—four, if she counted her deceased father. Her mother, her sister Jenna and Doc. Now Grey also knew her secret.
And she hadn’t just shocked him. She’d hurt him more deeply than she’d ever imagined.
* * *
BACK AT WILSON CATTLE, Grey shook his head. Cody had failed to properly mend the broken fence yesterday—call him Mr. Reliable—and Grey propped both hands on his hips to study the gap that was still there, the few strands of barbed wire hanging where Cody had hastily twisted them together as a temporary fix. Lazy, he thought, and it hadn’t worked. Grey had spent half the afternoon rounding up strays. Standing beside Logan Hunter, his friend and neighbor, he studied both sides of the property line.
“This fence was deliberately cut,” Grey said, but he was having a hard time keeping his mind on that fact or even that Cody had let him down. He kept hearing Shadow’s words. He’d had a kid, a child he’d never known about until now. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around that. Couldn’t believe she’d gone to Doc instead of him. Whatever decision she’d made, their baby was his business, not Doc’s.
Logan ran a hand over the nape of his neck. “Deliberate, all right. Same as mine was. Not the usual teardown by some cow determined to get free.”
“You missing any cattle? I mean, bison?”
Years ago Logan’s grandfather Sam had switched from raising beef, although Grey still wondered why. The bison could be mean critters, more aggressive than the Angus breeding bulls Grey ran, any day. If he needed proof, all he had to do was look at Logan’s grandfather, who’d been tossed weeks ago by one of his bison and badly broken his leg. His cast was off but he still had a limp.
“I’ll have to ask Willy or Tobias,” Logan said, referring to two of his cowboys. His already deep-blue eyes had darkened. “I’ve been too busy with the wedding plans to count bison cows or ride fence. Darned if I don’t miss that.”
Grey wanted to smile but couldn’t. The constant chore was nobody’s favorite, and to help his injured grandfather, Logan, who was by profession a test pilot, had become a temporary cowboy again—until he and Blossom fell in love and the ranch gained new appeal for him. Which only made Grey think of Shadow. “You don’t look unhappy. The break from flying jets must agree with you.”
“Yeah, but I’ll have to make some real decisions soon. I’ve got applications in with other aircraft manufacturers in Wichita, but there’s not a lot of demand right now.”
With his gloved hands, Grey retwisted some wires together, enough to keep his cows in until he could fix the fence himself.
“You’d quit?” he asked. “I thought you were just taking a short leave.”
“We’ll see. The ranch will always be home to Blossom and me, at least in part, depending on what I decide to do about flying for a living. Sam still needs help here.”
Grey glanced at him. He and Logan had grown up together, although Logan was two years older and Grey had always seen him as an older brother—the way he looked after Cody now. “It’d be great if you could stay, Logan.” He shook his head again. “I know I’ll never leave this place.” Not willingly, anyway. His stomach twisted at the thought of the loan Barney had denied him.
Logan frowned. “Why would you leave? Running Wilson Cattle is all you ever wanted to do, Grey. This ranch has been in your family even longer than the Circle H has been in mine.”
His gut tightened. Grey’s great-great-something-grandfather had bought this acreage right after the Civil War when land was cheap. As Logan knew, too, the old man was buried in the family plot just over the hill with the generations that had come after him. Grey had always wanted children who would inherit Wilson Cattle from him, but now... He had to steady his voice before he spoke.
“Yep. Wilson Cattle is in my blood, in my bones.”
Logan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Talk about old times. Remember when you and I—and my brother—scared ourselves crazy every Halloween in the graveyard? And rode all over both ranches, yelling like banshees, playing we were grown-up cowboys like your dad and Sam? Spooking the cattle? Pretending we were on some everlasting roundup?”
“Until we had to surrender our horses. Grounded,” Grey said. “We gave my dad and your grandfather more gray hairs...” Clearing his throat, he squinted into the far distance, listening for the reassuring sounds from the Black Angus herd that would tell him everything was fine. He knew each shuffle of hooves, each calf’s bleat or cow’s bellow, though unlike Sam Hunter he didn’t name the animals.
“Yeah,” Logan said, “but I regret that I spent more time off the Circle H than on for too many years. Now, because of Blossom, that’s finally changed. At least for now.”
Grey envied them. Shadow’s earlier words spun through his brain again like a McCormick reaper in a ripe hayfield. Years ago, he’d thought they were headed for the altar, like Logan and Blossom were now—until their last fight. Then Jared had died and Grey got blamed for it, at least in the court of public opinion. And sometimes within himself. All of which had prevented any reconciliation between him and Shadow. Logan had obviously picked up on his mood. Which of Doc’s options had she taken? He hadn’t let Shadow tell him what they were, or what she’d done.
“What’s wrong, Grey? Except for this barbed wire.”
“Plenty,” he admitted, “but I’ll get through it.”
Logan dragged a hand through his dark hair. “Whatever you say stops here.”
“I know, but...”
“If there’s anything I can do—”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
Logan punched his upper arm. “Someday that pride of yours is going to get you in real trouble.”
Grey rubbed his biceps, as if Logan had actually hurt him. “I imagine it will.” It already had, in town with Shadow today. He’d left her office shocked and mad at her for keeping their child from him all these years, afraid he’d say things he’d regret later.
He and Logan stood for a moment in silent companionship, two guys who were never comfortable