Her Stubborn Cowboy. Patricia Johns
an argument.
“So when are you going to apologize to Ida and go home?” Chet asked, changing the subject.
“I’m not.” Andy sighed. “It’s definitely over. She gave me back the ring, and I’m hiring movers.”
“I’m sorry,” Chet said gruffly. He felt a wave of sadness. He’d miss Ida. She’d been a great addition to the family.
Andy nodded somberly. “Hey, you remember that girl Mackenzie—the one I was head over heels for?”
“Yeah.”
“I should have married her while I had the chance,” Andy said, his voice low.
Those words sparked anger deep inside Chet. Andy hadn’t appreciated what he had when he had it. Mack had been sweet and gorgeous, smart and funny. She’d been the whole package, and Andy had started up with another girl behind Mack’s back. When Chet told Andy that he knew what was going on and that it wasn’t fair to either girl, Andy had agreed to choose between them. Chet had been sure that he’d land on the side of Mackenzie, but he hadn’t. He’d dumped Mack with little ceremony and carried on with some girl he’d met at the county fair. And now he was looking back thinking that he should have married Mackenzie? Mackenzie was lucky to have gotten away relatively unscathed!
“You’re an idiot,” Chet said. “You cheated on her.”
“I was an idiot,” Andy said. “I was also seventeen, and I’ve grown up since then. If I had a chance with Mack again, I wouldn’t squander it.”
What terrible timing. He didn’t have the stomach right now to tell Andy that Mack was back, mostly because he was pretty sure he’d clock his brother if he even mentioned going on over there to talk to her. But he couldn’t keep Mackenzie a secret for long. Still, some things could wait for another day. He had his brother back, and irritating though Andy was, Chet had been hoping for a reconciliation every single day for the past year. Family mattered. So did engagements, come to that.
“Ida’s worth some effort,” Chet said. “Four years. That’s a lot to throw away. Go grovel.”
“She said she’ll really miss you guys, too,” Andy said, turning away from the window. “Hey, but this is what lasts, isn’t it? We’re brothers. Women come and go, but we Granger boys stand together, am I right?”
“Yeah, until some development company comes along,” Chet said, bitterness edging his voice.
“You could make a fortune, too,” Andy said, sitting down as Chet put a plate of sausage and eggs in front of him. “Try something new, Chet. Take a chance. I want to do this together.”
He glanced out the window toward the house next door, the roof of which was just visible from where he stood. Mack was back and so was Andy, and they were already resuming the old roles they used to play. Andy was breaking hearts, Chet was holding together the ranch, and Mack was—
Mack was what, exactly? Mack, still as gorgeous as she’d once been, with that ornery streak and the defiant way of facing him down that made his mind go into dangerous territory. And there was still a very solid line between him and Mackenzie. Only this time it wasn’t about being too principled to make a move or about keeping the Granger family united. It was now about keeping his ranch. Because if he ticked off his brother this time, Andy had the trump card—he had a juicy offer to buy his land, and he didn’t need Chet for that.
The next morning, Chet got up earlier than ordinary and slipped out of the house to start his chores. He was eager to get outside again after an evening with his brother—at least, that was what he told himself. It would be ridiculous to get up an hour early to rush through his work so he could get to Mack’s place as soon as possible... Ridiculous, plain and simple.
That morning, he’d snuck around the kitchen like a ninja, not wanting to wake up his brother with the sound of cooking. Andy could get his own toast whenever he roused himself. The night before, they’d stayed up late, Chet listening as Andy made the case for selling their family’s land and starting fresh with some new venture. Andy had obviously put a lot of thought into this scheme, and his business degree hadn’t been wasted. There were statistics about profit and loss, land equity and... Chet couldn’t even remember all of it. All he knew was that he wasn’t selling, no matter how good the deal might be. This land wasn’t about cash; it was about roots, and Chet wasn’t about to be budged on that.
The chilly morning air mingled with the last dregs of his coffee. He drank it black and strong, the same way his dad used to take it. And when he pulled on his boots and dropped his hat on his head, he felt the same peace that flooded through him every morning. It was something to do with the smell of the barns and the sound of horses nickering before they could even see him. Or maybe it was the way the sun eased over the horizon as he lifted bales of hay into the back of the work truck—a twelve-year-old Chevy that was mottled with rust but still going strong. It was hard to pin down exactly what settled into his soul so perfectly, but this was the life for him.
He and Andy used to do chores together as kids, but there had been more than a few mornings when Andy was let off the hook—normally for a feigned stomachache—and Chet went out with his dad alone. He’d cherished that time. His father had been a quiet man who’d kept his own counsel, but when he and Chet would walk out to the barn together, his father would talk. Chet was the first to know about his mother’s cancer because his father had told him one morning in the field.
It wasn’t all heavy talk, though. His father would tell him stories about the Granger men who had come before him—working this very land under his feet. There was the grandfather who’d drunk himself into an early grave and a great-uncle who’d bought the most westerly section for ten dollars and a jar of preserves. One ancestor had been a ranch hand on this land and ended up marrying his boss’s daughter—Matilda Granger, if he recalled properly—and running the place for his father-in-law until the old man died. The ranch was then left to a Granger cousin instead. This land had been fraught with conflict and grit, and hearing the stories had made Chet feel as though he belonged with the rough group of men who had worked the land before him. As a kid listening to the family lore, he’d never imagined that he and his brother would be part of that Granger conflict, but remembering those stories now, he sensed the irony. Apparently, this land came with an ability to cause strife.
Chet’s chores went faster than usual, and after giving a few instructions to his ranch hands, Chet drove over to Mackenzie’s place. He didn’t know exactly what he was expecting today, but he was definitely looking forward to seeing her. This was different from before. She was a grown woman now, not a naive girl, and he found himself wanting to get to know her all over again. She was the same old Mack, and yet she was so much more now. Was it crazy of him to entertain these thoughts?
I’ll be her friend. I’ll help her out. That’s it.
That was what he kept telling himself, at least.
Mackenzie was waiting for him on the wooden steps. She cradled a mug of coffee between her hands, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail so that her face was fully exposed. She looked more vulnerable that way, her blue eyes lighting on his truck as he pulled up. She put down her mug and waved.
“Morning!” she called as he turned off the engine and hopped out. “You’re earlier than I thought.”
“I got an early start,” he admitted. “I was pretty eager to get out of there. My brother showed up last night.”
“Andy’s here?” She frowned, and he wondered what that meant to her. She’d been pretty smitten with his younger brother back in the day. “What’s he doing with himself now, anyway?”
“He lives out in Billings,” Chet said. “Manages a car dealership.”
“And why did he come here?” she inquired, squinting up at him from her perch on the