And Cowboy Makes Three. Deb Kastner
a deep breath, she returned her gaze to his.
“Obviously, I had no intention of seeing you today. But here we are.”
“Here we are,” he repeated. He narrowed his eyes on her. “So now what?”
* * *
Rowdy’s emotions were run ragged and frankly, he had had enough. It was all he could do not to bolt from the scene like a skittish lamb.
He lifted his bruised and battered heart to the Lord.
God, help me.
A short, concise prayer that said it all.
Ange had returned to Serendipity, no longer the pretty girl with a chip on her shoulder who he’d once known and loved, but a striking, mature woman—and a mother with a newborn baby who had seen her share of rough times.
She hadn’t said anything about Toby’s father, but Rowdy knew better than to make any assumptions.
Right now, he just hurt, a relentless ache that started in his heart and radiated through his limbs.
“The envelope,” Ange said, digging into her back pocket. “Maybe that will give us a clue.”
He raised his brows. “A clue to what?”
“What we’re supposed to be talking about. Jo slipped me an envelope when she handed me the—er—lariat. It’s from Granny and addressed to both of us. The first one only had my name on it.”
“There are more than one?”
Ange sniffed softly. “Believe me, I wouldn’t be wandering around in public if I’d had any choice in the matter.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, me neither, exactly. I only came to town to pay my respects and get the sale started on Granny’s ranch.”
“So, you are selling, then?”
Her gaze widened. “Of course. What on earth would I do with a sheep farm?”
“I’m an interested buyer, you know.”
She nodded. “I figured. But I also assumed I could take care of the estate and the paperwork without actually having to see you—” Her words skidded. “I mean, any potential buyers. Instead, I’m out and about at a packed town function. Which is exactly where I don’t want to be. Especially not making the kind of scene I ended up making. I absolutely didn’t have any intention of seeing you again.”
“So why are you here, then?”
“The letter in the first envelope had very specific instructions. It was addressed to me from Granny. Jo said that Granny would understand if I wanted to sell the ranch, but that she requested I follow the instructions in the envelope. Kind of like a last wish, I guess.”
“And that said...?”
“Picnic With Jo.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Wow. That’s about as vague as it gets. But Jo knew a lot more about what Granny was asking than you did. And she didn’t even hint about what you were walking into?”
“Not one word. She must have been busting up inside not being able to tell me anything.”
“So you didn’t know anything about the auction being today? Or, most especially, about buying me at auction before the event even got off the ground?”
“No, but Jo certainly did. And so, I think, did Granny. Before she passed on, she requested that I visit her on this particular weekend. I’m wondering if she wanted me to attend this auction all along, even if she’d still been here to come with me.”
“You think we’ve been set up?”
Ange frowned and nodded, looking none too pleased by the thought.
“But why?”
She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe Granny wanted to make sure the sale of the ranch went smoothly.”
“That doesn’t feel like enough of an explanation. We didn’t have to meet at the auction to work out the details of our real estate transaction. And why go to all the trouble of the cryptic letter? Why not just spell it all out?” he asked.
Ange held up the second envelope, which Rowdy could now clearly see had both of their names scrawled on it.
“I have no idea. Here’s hoping this one will tell us exactly where we’re supposed to go from here.”
Toby worked the bottle from his mouth with a gurgle and Angelica shifted him to her shoulder.
She pushed the envelope in Rowdy’s direction. “I guess we won’t know until we open it. Why don’t you do the honors, since I’ve got my hands full?”
Rowdy plucked the envelope from her grasp and gingerly opened it, unfolding the single tri-folded sheet of typing paper. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to be any part of this, but Granny Frances, as she’d insisted he call her back when he was a teenage boy dating her granddaughter, had been a huge influence in his life. He couldn’t let her down now.
She was a stubborn woman who’d continued to manage her ranch for as long as possible, saying it gave her great joy to be with her animals and her pain wasn’t going to keep her down.
But eventually, it had become too hard even for one as strong and stoic as Granny Frances.
In her final weeks, when she’d gotten too sick to care for herself, much less her flock, on her own, a palliative care nurse had come to look out for Granny Frances and Rowdy had stepped in and done the ranch work for her.
In reality, at this point he was already running Granny Frances’s ranch as if it was his own. As long as another buyer with deep pockets didn’t sweep in, which wasn’t likely in a town as small as Serendipity, it was just a matter of signing the papers to make the land his legally as well as practically.
His gaze quickly took in the words on Granny’s missive and he shook his head.
If they were expecting answers, this letter didn’t contain them.
These words were, in fact, the exact opposite.
“Feed My Sheep.”
Three words in Granny Frances’s handwriting.
Three lousy words.
“Great,” Ange groaned. “Another cryptic note. What do you suppose this one means?”
Rowdy ran a hand across the stubble on his jaw. “It sounds like something out of the Holy Scriptures. You know, when Jesus was speaking to Peter and kept telling him to feed his sheep? You think this is some kind of secret message?”
“I don’t know. I’m not even certain Granny was lucid when she wrote this stuff down. Maybe what she really meant to convey didn’t quite translate to paper.”
Rowdy hoped that was the case, but he sincerely doubted it. Life was never that simple, and he’d been there during Granny Frances’s final days. She had been coherent until her very last moments, when she had given her soul up to Jesus.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “Whatever this letter means, she knew what she was doing when she wrote it. I’m sorry you weren’t able to be there with her during her last moments, but I was, and I can tell you definitively that she was fully lucid all the way up to the end.”
His words weren’t quite the accusation they had been earlier. “The last word she breathed was Jesus. Her expression was so peaceful. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind her Savior was there waiting with open arms to welcome her into heaven.”
Tears sprang to Ange’s eyes and she dashed them back with her palm, while her face