Last Chance Cowboy. Leigh Riker
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Too bad he couldn’t take that to the bank.
Before seeing Shadow, he’d made a quick stop at the local tack store to order a new saddle and buy some lesser supplies, but he’d come out empty-handed. His credit had been declined. Grey had been having a hard time paying the bills lately, which only compounded his growing sense of failure. A best man. Was he, really? If only he could find some way to prove to her, to everyone else—maybe most of all, to himself—that he was innocent in the death of Jared Moran. But what if he discovered just the opposite?
Cody’s grin had stuck to his face. “Guess I can wait to go into town. Maybe on Saturday night I’ll find a nice little buckle bunny to dance with. To be honest, that’s what I miss most about the rodeo circuit.”
“Good luck finding one in Barren.” Grey noticed that halfway down the barn aisle, Cody had left a wheelbarrow full of steaming manure. The pungent aroma threatened to spread through the entire barn. Grey pointed. “Right now you’d better stop daydreaming and clean up that mess.”
Cody’s expression fell. “Thought you wanted me to mend fence today near the boundary with Logan’s property. By the way, he’s got a hole there, too.”
Grey frowned. Two sections of fence breached at the same time? He wondered if that could be a coincidence.
“Can’t be in both places at once,” Cody added.
“First things first. The manure won’t take long. Then get out there before those cows wander off the ranch.”
Cody grumbled to himself but Grey had other things on his mind. He left Cody to the wheelbarrow and went on up to the house.
He wouldn’t tell his dad about the loan just yet. A few years ago, after a long time spent as a single father, Everett Wilson had remarried, turned the operation over to Grey and moved to Dallas with his bride, as he still called Grey’s stepmom, Liza. Grey was fully responsible here. He had to protect their mutual heritage or they’d end up with nothing. Yet those new holes in the fence nagged at him.
Maybe the loan he’d been denied, his cash flow issue and Shadow’s blame weren’t his only problems. He hoped tomorrow would be better.
* * *
AS THE SUN began to set, Shadow pulled into her driveway. The house she’d recently purchased in Barren was her pride and joy. For the first time in her life, she had something all her own. At least, in thirty years it would be, considering her new mortgage. The house was another, necessary part of her plans for the future. But Shadow was still angry with herself for chickening out on telling Grey what she’d decided to tell him. And just when she needed to be alone, to rehearse what to say tomorrow, her mother was waiting for her on her front steps.
Shadow opened the garage door with her remote control, rolled inside then shut the door behind her. She went in through the kitchen and down the short hall to the entryway.
“Mama. What are you doing out there?”
Her mother blinked. “I came to see you. Didn’t know I needed an excuse.”
“I didn’t say you did.” What was wrong now? Through the screen door Shadow could see that her mother, in her late forties, looked somewhat worn today. Her dark hair hung in dull hanks around her face. What was wrong now?
Considering what had happened right after Jared died, she shouldn’t feel bad for her remaining parent. Yet she still loved her mother, who’d lost her husband—Shadow’s father—a year ago, who still looked lost herself, and showed up now and then to see Shadow as if she’d forgotten their rift. Shadow always had a hard time saying no to anything her mother needed and rarely did.
“Come inside,” Shadow insisted.
“I’m fine right here,” her mother said. “Actually, I came to tell you my water heater—yes, the one you bought me—leaked all over the floor last night.” She added, “I don’t know if it can be fixed, and I don’t get my government check for another ten days.”
Shadow forced herself to gentle her tone. They’d had this discussion before, but to Shadow’s sorrow, nothing had changed. “Mama. How many times have I told you to sell that place?”
“It’s my home.”
Shadow suppressed a twinge of regret. Grey felt that way about his enormous ranch, which Shadow disliked as much as her family’s small farm, the modest house with its now-sagging roof, the cramped rooms where her parents had fought late into the night over every dime.
She shook her head. “Five acres of dirt, a bunch of chickens and a house that’s been falling down around your ears since I was in diapers.” And someone in that house, she thought, had always been in diapers.
“I own my house, free and clear. How many people can say that?”
True enough. Shadow had her brand-new mortgage to pay, a strong motivation to succeed with Mother Comfort. She murmured, “At least Daddy left you something.” Other than six children. Well, five now. For a time it had seemed her mother was pregnant every year. As the second oldest girl after her sister Jenna, Shadow had often helped with the youngest ones, giving bottles to Tanya and Cherry, wiping her little brother Derek’s grimy hands and runny noses while her dad did...almost nothing to help.
“He was a good man,” her mother said. “I loved your father.”
Another casualty, Shadow thought, of a man who couldn’t be counted on.
She took a deep breath. She didn’t want to hurt her mother, but she needed to get through to her somehow. “Obviously, you can’t keep that house up much longer, Mama. It’s become harder and harder since Daddy died. The house is old. It needs too much work. How about I come out soon? We can get it ready to sell. That property’s not worth much, but enough to give you a fresh start. Away from all those memories.” She didn’t have to mention Jared.
“I’m staying.” Her mother looked away. “We always did the best we could.”
“I guess.” But Shadow had gone to school with holes in her sneakers—they all had. The same shoes that pinched because they were two sizes too small. Shadow had felt like one of those women centuries ago with their feet bound till they couldn’t walk. Now she had a serious obsession with shoes. They were her one indulgence. Everything else went into her plans for the future. Shadow looked down at her newest pair of flats. “You don’t have to live that way now,” she said. “Did you never consider what Daddy was doing to us then?” And that didn’t come close to Shadow’s last memory of him.
“He couldn’t get good work.”
“No, or if he did, it was because Everett Wilson hired him back again.” She added, “I know you were in a difficult position, Mama.” Shadow had been in one, herself. She’d had to make hard decisions, which reminded her now of Grey and their meeting tomorrow. “But when I actually needed Daddy—”
“He shouldn’t have done that, but honey, we’d just lost Jared! That was Grey Wilson’s doing. You can’t blame your father for feeling like he did. That boy killed our son and I’ll never forgive him.”
Shadow couldn’t disagree. But this wasn’t about Grey. It was Shadow her father had hurt then. “Yes, and after that, Daddy wasn’t there for me.” She almost hadn’t come home for his funeral, yet she’d done so for her mother’s sake. And stayed.
Her mother rose from the steps. “People make mistakes. Grey Wilson sure did, and you just ran off—”
“Because,” Shadow said, fighting the urge to push her mother away when she also wanted to take her in her arms and comfort them both, “I had to.” Because, like Daddy, you wouldn’t help me, either.
As if she’d actually heard the unspoken words, her mother drew herself up. She stood barely over five feet, even when she squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine. Shadow had inherited her father’s height, but she had to give her mother credit