Her Twins' Cowboy Dad. Patricia Johns
“Should I get Peg to show me where to start with cleaning things out, then?”
“Yeah, that would be the best,” he said. “If you want me to carry anything in for you—”
“I’ll be fine.” She waved off his offer. “Go on and get back to work.”
Colt headed toward the door, and Micha toddled after him, so Jane boosted up her toddler and kissed her plump cheek.
“You’re staying with me,” she said with a low laugh, but she watched as the door shut behind Colt, then looked around at the silent kitchen.
She had no idea what was waiting for her here in Creekside. She was among family, but they were the people her late husband hadn’t trusted.
She pulled her hair out of her face and heaved a sigh.
Father, guide me... She didn’t know what else to ask.
* * *
As Colt headed outside, the hot, grass-scented wind enveloped him and he felt the tension start to fade away.
Lord, keep me focused on my job, he prayed silently. I don’t know what Beau was thinking. If he was going to leave me the ranch, why complicate it on me? But she’s Josh’s wife, and I have no problem with sharing this with her... I just need Your help holding the ranch together. You know where the finances stand! The sooner this is resolved and Jane is on her way back to her life, the better. So smooth the road for that, Lord. And give me some grace in the meantime.
There was a lot of work to get done that day, and he’d already used up a good chunk of it there at the lawyer’s office. Beau hadn’t been doing a lot of the day-to-day managing of the ranch anymore before he died, so the ranch hands already looked to Colt as the one to answer to. But he wasn’t just the ranch manager now, he was owner. He’d have to hold a meeting when he told everyone together at the same time. If rumor didn’t reach them first.
The main house was on the crest of a hill, and the dirt road that led toward the ranch hands’ bunkhouse and canteen wound around the hill and toward the west where a patch of forest served as a backdrop for the low wooden buildings. The trees melted into some scrubby grassland beyond that served well in winter, giving the cattle the shelter of trees in the coldest weather, and some iron feeders and water troughs that were filled daily once the snow came. Now that it was summer, the cattle were enjoying the lush pasture farther east. Even in the summer months, Colt’s mind skipped ahead to the next season. The work never eased up; it just changed form. That was ranch life.
His truck bounced over a pothole, and his vehicle rattled. The canteen and the bunkhouse weren’t too far from the main house. When he arrived, he parked out front in his usual spot. A couple of work trucks were parked along the side, and he could hear the buzz of some male voice filtering out through the propped-open door. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his mom’s number in Wyoming. She’d moved out there five years ago, and it still felt strange to have her so far away. The Marshalls seemed to chase off anyone without a real good reason to stick around.
“Colt? That you, honey?” his mother said, picking up.
“Yeah. Hi, Mom.”
“How’s it going over there?” she asked. “Don’t you have the reading of the will today?”
“Yeah. I just got back from it.”
“And?” She sounded slightly breathless.
“And Beau came through. The ranch is mine.”
“Yes!” His mother heaved a deep sigh. “I’m so glad. I was praying for this. You deserve that land, son.”
Wasn’t that the way...everyone praying for their own stake in something that didn’t belong to them to begin with. It still felt wrong.
“There’s a bit of a wrinkle, though,” he said. “Josh’s widow is here. Beau left her kids the cattle.”
“He left them the—” his mother began. “What kids?”
“Josh had twins. He died before they were born. Two girls. And Beau left them the cattle.”
“Josh had kids?” His mother paused for a couple of beats. “That egotistical jerk!”
“Josh?” Colt asked wryly.
“No, your uncle. Obviously. Even from the grave, he wants to ruin other people’s happiness! He could have just left the ranch to you free and clear. Would that have been so hard? He didn’t bother making up with Josh, so he was going to try and make up for that after the fact?”
“It was the right thing to do,” he countered. “These are Josh’s daughters, Mom. They look just like him.”
“So give them something else. The cattle?” She was only getting started, he could tell.
“Mom, it’s done,” Colt said irritably. “And Beau’s dead. There’s no one left to be mad at.”
“So Josh’s widow is there?” his mother clarified.
“Yep. She’s here. Just for a week or two while we sort out the paperwork and I get a loan to buy my cattle back.”
“Your cattle. I like the sound of that. This was a long time coming, son, but I’m glad. I know you’re a bit guilty right now, but trust me on this—you have nothing to feel guilty about.”
He wished he felt as certain about that as his mother did.
“I just wanted to let you know what happened,” he said. “I’ve got some stuff to take care of here, so I’d better let you go.”
“All right. Back to work. I love you, son.”
“Love you, too, Mom. Bye.”
He hung up the phone and heaved a sigh. The family turmoil surrounding this inheritance wasn’t quite so easy for him to dismiss. His mother was Sandra’s sister, and she’d hated Beau. Beau had been the “idiot husband” who made her sister miserable. There hadn’t been a lot of love lost between the two of them. But work called, and Colt didn’t have the luxury of sitting around and beating himself up.
As Colt headed inside the canteen, his eyes took a moment to adjust after the bright sunlight.
“Hey, boss,” a couple of cowboys said as he passed by a table where they were eating some wrapped sandwiches.
“Morning,” he said, continuing on by.
Shawn, the ranch cook, was in the kitchen, wrapping up some hoagies in plastic wrap, and he turned when Colt came in, the door swinging shut behind him.
“You texted?” Colt said.
“Yeah.” Shawn finished wrapping the sandwich in his hand and put it on the pile. “I know the timing isn’t great, what with Mr. Marshall’s passing, but I’ve got to give my notice.”
“What?” Colt froze. “Don’t tell me someone is paying you more—”
“Nah, my brother was in a bad accident in the city, and he’s going to need my help running his drywalling business while he recovers. I said I’d come out, and I have no idea how long that’ll take. Weeks? Months? No clue.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Colt said, his mind spinning ahead to job postings and interviews. “So...how much time will you give me?”
“I’ve got to leave in the morning,” Shawn said.
“That soon!” Colt choked. “I don’t have anyone to fill in. Are you sure you can’t give me a few more days?”
“My brother has a big contract he has to complete, and his leg has been broken in two places. If I don’t come, he’ll have to break his contract and that will be costly. So I’ve got to get out there and lend a hand. I said that I would. I’m sorry, Colt. Ordinarily I’d give more