Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride: Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride. Wendy Warren
Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride: Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride
allotments.”
“Manage in what way?” Libby asked. She thought she was managing those herds.
“Reducing numbers to a more reasonable level.”
“Define reasonable.”
“The cattlemen pay for the range, so ‘reasonable’ would mean the number of horses that can be sustained without affecting the number of cattle that normally graze there.”
“What about the deer, elk and antelope?” Libby was fully in support of using the range for cattle, but when the range was in poor condition, everything had to be scaled back.
“Funny you should mention that. According to my research, the mustangs in the Jessup Valley are taking range from native species.”
“I’d sure like to see that research.”
“I’ll see that you get a copy,” Ellen said, tidying the stack of papers on her desk as she spoke. “But in the meantime we’ll focus on areas that affect the economy.”
“And that would be the areas with grazing allotments.”
“Exactly. When you finish writing your section of the land-usage report, I want you to address this issue.”
“I’ll be certain to do that.” Libby couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice, probably because she wasn’t trying very hard to do so.
Ellen set her pen on the desk. “Libby.” She folded her hands on the top of her desk and leaned forward. “Let me be blunt, since it’s a manner of speaking with which you are quite familiar. Our budget is in trouble. We need the grazing fees, and in addition to that we may have to adjust staff. At the conference we discussed the possibility of sharing personnel over several areas in a cooperative effort. One of the positions discussed was that of wild horse specialist. You have the least seniority.”
“I see.” Libby refused to let any emotion come into her voice. She had no idea if Ellen was telling her the truth or simply trying to manipulate her, so there was no sense going ballistic over what might well be nothing more than a stretching of the truth.
Ellen adjusted her glasses. “I, of course, fought to keep your position rather than have it absorbed. However, nothing is settled yet.” She paused. “I will continue to fight for you, as long as I feel you are a benefit to this office.” Another pause for effect. Two, three, four … “Are we clear on the situation?”
“Very clear.” Cooperate with Ellen or walk.
“I want you to look closely at the situation in the Jessup Valley. When you finalize your addition to the usage report, I expect to see suggestions that will take the current economic situation into account.”
Libby nodded. She might be hotheaded, but she wasn’t a fool. She’d continue with this game for a while and see how it played out, but damned if she would let this woman force her to include lies in her assessments.
“If that’s all?” she asked, holding the folder she’d brought with her in both hands.
“For now,” Ellen said. “I look forward to your report.”
Libby gave a slight smile and headed for the door.
“Well?” Stephen asked once she returned to their office.
“We have range issues,” Libby said shortly.
“Yeah.” Stephen leaned back in his chair, propping the sole of his boot on the edge of the desk. “Before Ellen went to the state meeting, she wanted to allow more grazing for the three big ranches in the area. I couldn’t recommend increasing time or number of animals on the allotments. Fred agreed with me. She didn’t like that much.”
“Well,” Libby said, thoughtfully twisting a curl around her finger. “She now believes that if she removes the horses from the range, there’ll be plenty of food for cattle.”
“She’s probably right.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“Yours. But her thought process makes sense.”
“Her thought process is what worries me. And she came back all out of sorts from that meeting, so I’m thinking she got bad news and now she’s trying to twist things to get what she wants.”
“What does she want, Libby?”
“She wants to make friends with some rich ranchers, near as I can tell.” Libby shook her head and touched her computer mouse, bringing the screen to life. She had a report to write.
And some thinking to do.
“DO YOU HAVE plans for the weekend?” Ellen asked later that afternoon as they left the office for the day.
Libby’s jaw set at the woman’s pretended interest in her staff. The ploy was probably outlined in one of her management books. Take an interest in your staff. Show them that you care, then carefully insert the knife between the fifth and sixth ribs and twist …
“Just a long ride in the mountains,” Libby said. She dug her keys out of her jacket pocket and started for her truck.
She’d spent as much time contemplating the pros and cons of Menace’s advice to suck it up where Kade was concerned as she’d spent debating the mustang situation. She did need to suck it up. It was stupid to think that she could avoid Kade in the tiny community. So why try? Why not just find a middle ground between lovers and enemies? It was the only sane course of action. And it would prove once and for all—to both of them—that there’d never, ever be anything between them again.
And that was why she was going to do more than point out Blue’s herd on the map. She would go with Kade to find his horse.
CHAPTER SIX
JOE BARTON WASN’T exactly the man Kade had first thought he was. He’d lived a privileged life and had only a passing familiarity with the word no, but he also worked hard. He didn’t leave everything for his underlings to take care of. Kade had a feeling that had their positions been reversed, Barton would not have been fleeced out of his fortune by a no-good accountant; he would have been well aware of everything that was happening with his money. Kade had been trusting and oblivious, learning the hard way that people who said they were your friends still had to be watched.
Kade was not only learning to like Joe, he was thankful he had the three colts to train, because the job offers weren’t exactly pouring in. He really hadn’t expected to get hired on at the Lone Eagle Mine, but he’d thought he might have had a shot at a couple of the jobs advertised in Wesley—driving a propane delivery truck or doing day labor at the aggregate plant. He hadn’t even been asked for an interview. Apparently bronc busting—even world-class bronc busting—wasn’t enough of a skill to make the short list for those kinds of positions.
Sheri hadn’t called, either, since that one excited phone exchange a couple of weeks ago, so obviously the Rough Out endorsement deal was down the tubes. Kade felt no surprise. He hadn’t been easy to deal with when he’d been drunk, and he’d been stupid and arrogant enough to think that he could do as he pleased and a major advertiser would still want him to work for them. After all, sales of Rough Out jeans had jumped when he’d been used in their print ads. Difficult was difficult, however, and he’d pulled one too many no-shows on them, due to rotten hangovers.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
But drunks weren’t known for making well-thought-out, informed decisions. He’d instinctively stayed away from Maddie during those months, not wanting his kid to see him in that state, and telling himself he’d get sober and make it up to her tomorrow.
Jillian had made no waves about him not seeing Maddie. She’d liked that Kade no longer upset their daughter’s controlled existence. But then he’d had a rude awakening when the IRS contacted him, wanting a whole lot of money because his accountant, the one Jillian had warned him about, hadn’t bothered