Wrangling the Cowboy's Heart Page 3

  Jodie clutched the paper, stifling her annoyance. “This is so typical of Dad. Has he ever given us anything without a proviso attached? It seems as if every job or chore he wanted us to do was issued as a nonnegotiable decree.”

  “You might be reading more into this than meets the eye,” Lauren replied, ever the peacemaker. “You and Dad always had a volatile relationship.”

  Lauren knew only the half of it. When she and Erin turned eighteen, they’d stopped coming to the ranch. Both had gone to college and took on summer jobs, leaving Jodie to spend two more summers alone with their father. They’d fought at every turn, Jodie often on the receiving end of his anger.

  She tamped down the memories, as she always did when they threatened.

  And how are you going to keep them at bay for two months if you stay?

  “I always figured Dad and I never got along because I was the only one who got to see the big fight that changed everything,” Jodie said, fingering one edge of the letter.

  Jodie had been in the barn loft, playing with kittens, when she’d heard her parents’ raised voices below her. She’d come down to see her father yelling at their mother to leave the ranch and take her daughters with her. Jodie, shocked and defensive of her mom, had yelled at him not to talk to her that way. But he’d ignored her, walking away. Her mother and sisters had left the ranch the next day and Jodie had never forgiven him. She was only seven at the time.

  “It didn’t help that you always egged him on,” Lauren continued.

  “It also didn’t help that he never believed me when I told him I’d just been out with friends, and not partying like he always accused me of.”

  “Well, you were partying, toward the end.”

  “Only because I figured I may as well do what he always accused me of, and have fun.”

  “Was it fun?”

  Jodie caught the unspoken reprimand in her sister’s tone and looked down at the letter.

  It was an echo of the one she’d voiced whenever Jodie had tried to tell her sisters about what had really happened those summers alone on the ranch. They’d often questioned her, citing the steady antagonism between Jodie and her father as the reason. So she’d kept her mouth shut, endured her father’s alternating stony silences and spewing anger.

  And, increasingly, his physical punishment.

  “So what do we do about this?” Jodie said, resting her elbows on the scarred Formica table.

  “I’m too busy to take two months away from work,” Lauren said, clutching her coffee mug. “Things are too iffy with my job. Would it stand up in court if we don’t agree to the terms of the letter? Could we still sell the ranch and get the money?”

  “This document was verified by the lawyer...” Jodie let the sentence fade away as she skimmed the letter again. Her father’s distinct scrawl covered the page, and below that was a note from Drake Neubauer proving this was indeed Keith McCauley’s handwriting and that this was a legal and binding document. “I can see why Dad wanted us to read this after the funeral. I’m sure if I heard it before, I would have had a hard time concentrating on the service.”

  Not that Finn’s presence had made it easier.

  “What do you suppose the ranch is worth?” Lauren asked.

  “Enough to help us out in our own ventures, I would guess,” Jodie said. “Might be something you’d want to look into before you decide you can’t do this.”

  “And you?”

  Jodie shrugged. “Money’s never been that important to me.”

  Lauren looked as if she was about to say something more when their waitress brought a bowl of soup and a salad for Lauren, pizza and onion rings for Jodie.

  “That is the most unhealthy combination of foods I can imagine,” Lauren sniffed as the waitress left.

  “It feeds my soul as well as my stomach,” Jodie said, grabbing the bottle of ketchup to douse her onion rings. “Comfort food.”

  “I guess we could both use some of that.” Lauren gave her a rueful smile, then bowed her head.

  With a guilty start Jodie realized her sister was praying a silent blessing over her food. Belatedly she followed suit.

  Forgive me, Lord, she prayed. I haven’t talked a lot to You lately. I’m sorry. I haven’t felt as if I have the right. My life’s been a mess, so I guess I could use some help there. Regret and remorse rose up again as the memories surfaced. But she caught herself in time. The past was done, even though the pain and repercussions lingered.

  She finished her prayer with a thank-you for her food.

  “So tell me about this music gig you’ll be doing?” Lauren asked. “Any future in it?”

  Trust her to cut to the chase. Ever the older sister, Lauren had always been after Jodie to find something that gave her a career.

  “It’s not a huge job and there’s no guarantee,” Jodie said. “But if it goes well, there’s a good chance that the band will open for this new breakout group. We might be touring with them.”

  “Might be.”

  Jodie waved off Lauren’s comment. “Everything in this business is hearsay or odds. Besides, I’ll find work waitressing if I need to fill in any gaps.”

  “And what about your composing? Would you be able to keep doing that?”

  “I don’t know if I’d have the time,” Jodie said, feeling a vague pang. “If this gig doesn’t happen, I’ll work enough to save up for a trip to Thailand. Maybe write some music there.”

  “Running again?”

  Jodie felt a flare of indignation at the censure in her sister’s voice. “It’s called traveling. Expanding your horizons. You should try it sometime instead of tying yourself to your job.”

  “My job gives me security. Something you don’t seem to have. Besides, I don’t know how you can afford all these trips.”

  “Simple. No obligations. Nothing pinning me down. Free as a bird.” Jodie waved her hand as if underlining her mantra. “Driving an old car and taking in tips help.”

  “You’ll never settle down, living the life you do. You’ll never find anyone.”

  “Don’t need anyone. Not after Lane.”

  “Lane was a mistake. I don’t think the two of you were suited to each other.”

  Though she knew Lauren was right, her sister’s comment struck at Jodie’s latent insecurities. It had taken her almost a year to get past the anger and pain she felt when her former fiancé had broken up with her.

  He had asked for his ring back after he saw a stranger flirting with Jodie while she worked her second job, playing piano at a bar.

  Lane had always wanted her to quit that job. He’d felt that, as the son of a US senator, he had a reputation to uphold.

  But Jodie knew she had no other marketable skills. She valued her independence and the money she made, so she’d stayed with it. Then one night one of her regular patrons had sat down beside her, put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek just as Lane had come in. Jodie had denied there was anything going on between them, but Lane had chosen not to believe her and had asked for his ring back.

  Two weeks later she’d found out he was dating the daughter of a minister. A much more suitable woman for someone like him.

  Jodie hadn’t been in a serious relationship since.

  “You deserve someone who accepts you for who you are,” Lauren continued.

  “Doesn’t matter.” She shrugged off her sister’s protests. “Since I haven’t found anyone who interests me enough to think of settling down, I prefer to be the one in charge. Be the one walking away.”

  As soon as the words left her lips, she realized how they might sound to her sister, whose fiancé had walked away from her the morning of their wedding.

  “Sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “Doesn’t matter,”
Lauren muttered, but Jodie could see from the tightness around her lips that it did. Jodie had been with her sister when she’d gotten the news. Lauren had been just about to put on her wedding dress. Instead, her normally composed sister had kicked it aside, tossed her bouquet down and stormed out of the room, leaving Erin and Jodie to take care of all the details.

  “Anyway, I don’t want to be tied down.”

  “Well, with the life you live, you don’t have time to give anyone else a chance,” Lauren said, lifting her head. “Maybe staying in one place for two months might be just what you need.”

  Much as Jodie trumpeted her freedom, the idea of being at the ranch held a reluctant allure. The past couple years she’d had a curious yearning, the strange feeling that she’d been missing something. The trips, the traveling, the work—nothing satisfied her as it used to. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

  “And maybe, if you stay in one place, you might have time to spend with Finn again,” Lauren continued.

  Jodie started. “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw how you watched him at the funeral service, and then the reception after,” Lauren said, giving her sister a vague smile.

  “I was thinking about how he stopped me for speeding.”

  “Oh, c’mon. He was just doing his job. And look how sweet he is, chatting up the locals over at the other table.”

  Finn was here? Jodie couldn’t resist a glance over her shoulder.

  Deputy Hicks stood by a table, talking with a group of older women. He seemed to dominate the space, his back ramrod straight, his white shirt and blue jeans softening his military stance. It shouldn’t surprise her that Finn had ended up in law enforcement. The man had made no secret of his admiration for her father.

  “A little too ‘serve and protect’ for my liking. Like Dad. No, thanks,” she said, with what she hoped was a dismissive tone.

  Then Finn turned around and looked her way. Their eyes met across the distance and his expression altered. In that moment Jodie felt a whisper of the old attraction.

  No. Not for you, she told herself. You and guys equal disaster. Especially someone like Finn.

  She dragged her eyes away, focusing on her onion rings. Then felt Lauren’s foot nudging her under the table. “He’s coming this way,” she hissed. “Fix your lipstick.”

  Jodie gave her sister the evil eye, hoping she got the message—Not Interested.

  “Afternoon, ladies,” Finn said, looking from Jodie to Lauren. “I thought I would come by to say hello again. Hope this day wasn’t too difficult for you. I know it didn’t start off the best.”

  He caught Jodie’s eye and she knew he referred to their interaction this morning. She blushed, thinking of her smart remarks, but brushed the memory aside.

  “We’ll get through it.” She gave him a polite smile.

  “I didn’t have time to tell you after the funeral, but I wanted to say how thankful I always was for your father’s support. He was a good man. He missed you girls a lot. He often spoke about you and how he wished you could visit more often.”

  Jodie took a moment to respond to that, then felt another nudge from her sister’s toe.

  “I’m sure he did,” she finally replied. “It’s been difficult to find time to come.”

  Her empty words sounded shallow, even to her. She’d managed to find time to go to Asia, India and Paris, but not a trip to Saddlebank? But she wasn’t about to apologize for her lack of filial duty.

  “I also thought I should let you know that Vic and I will be coming to your place tomorrow. Your dad let Vic pasture a bunch of his horses there, and we want to sort them out of your father’s herd. I wanted to give you a heads up in case you’re wondering what’s going on.”

  “Thanks for telling us,” Lauren said. “Jodie will be staying at the ranch, so if you need anything you can ask her.”

  Jodie pushed her sister’s foot this time, but Lauren smiled, ignoring her.

  “I think we’ll be okay. And I wish you girls the best,” he said, looking from one to the other. “Hope settling the estate won’t be too painful and you manage to find some happier memories.” Just before he left, his eyes met Jodie’s.

  And for a heartbeat their gazes locked and she wondered if he was referring to their shared past.

  Then he put his hat back on his head and left. The moment was gone.

  Jodie grabbed an onion ring and swiped it through the pile of ketchup on her plate, surprised at the emotions churning through her where Finn was concerned.

  Lauren leaned forward, her eyes glinting with amusement. “I think he still likes you. I saw how he stared at you now.”

  “You saw what you wanted to see. I saw a man who thinks we’re lousy daughters who didn’t visit a man he thought the sun rose and set on.”

  “He was just making conversation. He still seems interested in you.”

  “Maybe it was you he was interested in,” Jodie countered. “I was the one that stood him up, remember? Besides, he’s a deputy now. Not the kind of guy I’d be attracted to. Been there, done that.”

  “Not all men are like Dad, you know,” Lauren said. “And not all men are like Lane. Once upon a time you were attracted to Finn.”

  Jodie’s only answer was to take a bite of her pizza. Her sister was right, but she wasn’t about to let someone like Finn into her life again.

  He was too much a reminder of all that she had lost. All that her father had taken away. And she couldn’t let herself feel that vulnerable again.

  Chapter Three

  Jodie stepped into the house, déjà vu washing over her as the faintest scent of onions and bacon, her father’s favorite foods, wafted past her. Vague evidence that he had been here only a week ago.

  Pain clenched her heart. Pain and regret, coupled with a wish that Lauren could have come with her to the Rocking M.

  Her sister had had to leave early this morning to catch a plane, so last night they’d stayed in Saddlebank’s only motel, then gone their separate ways at dawn.

  Jodie toed off her boots and put them on the shelf under the coatrack. She set her suitcase on the old wooden bench, as she and her sisters always did the day they arrived at the ranch. For a fraction of a moment loneliness nudged her at the sight of her lone suitcase. There should be two more.

  She paused, listening, but the only sounds in the stillness were the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room and the hum of the refrigerator in the rear.

  Hugging herself, she walked through the house to the kitchen. A breakfast bar bisected the space, separating the cooking area from the rest of the room. She and her sisters had spent a lot of time there, laughing as they created unique meals using the minimal ingredients available to them. Their father had never been big on shopping.

  A large room took up the far end of the house, the ceiling soaring two stories high. The dining room table with its five mismatched chairs filled one side, while couches and a couple recliners huddled around the stone fireplace on the far wall, flanked by two large bay windows.

  A baby grand piano, covered with a flowered sheet, took up the far corner of the room. Jodie was surprised her dad still had it. It was an older one from her aunt Laura, who used to teach piano.

  Jodie’s smile faded as she looked toward the closed door of her father’s office.

  How many times had he pulled her into that room, ordered her to sit in the chair and listen? How many lectures had she endured, with him pounding his fist on the desk, telling her she was a disgrace to his good name? It didn’t take much to resurrect his angry voice berating her, the sting of his hand on her cheek.

  She spun away from the office, striding toward the living room as if outrunning the hurtful memories. She stopped at the window overlooking the yard. From there she saw the wooden fenc
es of the corrals edging the rolling green pastures. Beyond them stood the mountains, snow still clinging to the peaks even in summer.

  During the days of stifling heat in Knoxville, she’d definitely missed the mountains and the open spaces of this ranch. She fingered the curtain, leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the window, the usual daydreams assaulting her. Travel, moving, being in charge of where she went instead of working around other people’s plans for her life. She had spent most of her childhood going where others told her to go, being who others told her to be. Now she was stuck here for a couple months, once again, her situation being dictated by her father.

  She could leave. She knew that. Forfeit her right to a portion of the ranch. But she also knew the reality of her situation. Any money she got from selling the ranch would be a huge benefit. Touring wouldn’t be the financial hardship it usually was.

  And what would Dad think of that?

  She pushed aside the guilt and mixed feelings that had been her steady companions since her father died, then walked over to the piano and pulled the sheet off, sneezing at the dust cloud she created. Lifting the lid, she propped it open, raised the fallboard covering the keys and sat down at the bench.

  She ran a few scales, the notes echoing in the emptiness. Surprisingly, the piano was still reasonably in tune.

  Her fingers unerringly found the notes of “Für Elise,” one of the first pieces she had ever performed, and its haunting melody filled the silence as memories assailed her.

  Sitting at this same piano, her pudgy fingers plinking out notes of the scales as her sisters played outside. Often her time at the piano was punishment for one of her many misdeeds. Between the musical aptitude her grandmother tried to nurture and the many times Jodie got into trouble, she’d spent a lot of time at the keyboard.