How to Wrangle a Cowboy (46 page)

Lindsey laid a hand on his chest to feel his gentle heart beating against her palm and smiled up into his dark eyes. Those eyes, so forbidding when she’d first met him, fixed on hers with a softness that found an answer in her own.

“You’re foreman forever, as long as you want to be,” she said. “Boss.”

Chapter 58

Shane stepped aside, pulling Lindsey out of the way as the men swarmed the basement, filling their tattooed arms with dogs and puppies.

“Excuse me,” Ozzie hollered, clearly on his best behavior. “I need volunteers to get Mr. Brockman out of the shitter.” He flushed. “Sorry, Doc Ward.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “When Mr. Brockman’s in there, that’s a perfectly accurate term. What do you plan to do with him?”

“I figure we’ll take him downtown.”

Ozzie shoved his hands in his pockets while one of the men did a surprisingly accurate imitation of the
chung-chung
of jail doors slamming that marked every episode of
Law & Order.
Everyone laughed but Ozzie, who looked utterly serious.

Looking past Shane, he met Lindsey’s eyes. “You don’t want Animal Control or the police in here just yet. They might take the cowboy’s little dog away from him.”

Shane glanced up, expecting to see mockery in Ozzie’s eyes, but the man was dead serious.

Maybe Ozzie, too, understood the dark and the loneliness.

Why had he never thought about where these men might have come from? Maybe they hadn’t been as lucky as him. Who might they be if they’d had a Bill Decker to haul them out into the light? Someday, he’d have to join them at the Red Dawg and find out.

“I hope Ozzie turns up on Monday,” he said as he and Lindsey watched the big man climb the stairs. “We definitely ought to hire him.”

“We?” Lindsey asked.

A sudden crash resounded from upstairs, then a louder one that shook the house. Next came the thundering of heavy shoes on wood floorboards, and then Brockman’s voice, hollering about his rights and his Smith & Wesson.

Shane pulled Lindsey close, bracing for gunshots, but there was only a thud, and then the scraping sound of a body being dragged across the kitchen floor. The front door slammed, and gravel peppered the window at the front of the house.

“Guess that takes care of his rights
and
his Smith & Wesson,” Shane said. He was almost smiling—which was amazing, considering what he’d just been through. And Lindsey was smiling back, which was even more amazing. Wasn’t she mad at him? After all, this was all his fault. If he’d just gone along with her whole puppy rescue idea, she wouldn’t have been in the basement alone. She wouldn’t have been hit over the head.

When he thought about what might have happened…

No, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t think about it.

He glanced over at Cody, who was slumped in a corner with three puppies in his lap, all of them lost in the sleep of the innocent. Taking Lindsey’s hand, Shane eased down onto the steps and drew her down beside him. He clasped his other hand over hers and thought through what he was about to say. He’d never said the words to anyone, but it was time. And it was Lindsey. And it was
right.

“Look, I know there’s a lot to do here, but I need to talk to you,” he said. “I’ll make it quick.”

Seeming to sense the gravity of his mood, Lindsey looked into his eyes and nodded.

She continued to look into his eyes as he told her, in a low, sometimes unsteady tone, about the closet, the dark, and the loneliness. He told her how he’d come to believe that letting people see your feelings was like handing them a knife so they could stab you with it when you least expected.

He told her about the hopelessness and then the hope. About the foster families he’d tried so hard to please, and the ones who hadn’t understood why he could do everything but love them. He told her how they’d thrown him back into the foster system like an unworthy chub pulled out of a trout stream. Then he told her about Phoenix House, not as it was now but as it was in the dark times, before Sierra brought the light.

He told her about the basement, how much like the closet it was, and then he told her about Bill Decker and his wife, Irene—how they’d saved him, along with Brady and Ridge, when he was almost past saving.

When he finished, she had tears streaming down her cheeks. Wiping them gently with the back of one finger, he stroked her hair and gazed earnestly into her eyes.

“I know what it’s like, Lindsey. But until today, until I saw Templeton here, I didn’t realize—they feel it just like we do. Just like I did. Only worse.” He looked down at the little dog nestled in the crook of his arm. “He didn’t know it might end someday. He thought that was life. How it was, how it always would be.”

Lindsey put her arms around Shane and he held her as close as he could with Templeton between them.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Sorry you had to live like that, and sorry there are people who can treat a child that way.”

“Or a dog.”

“Or a dog.”

“I’m sorry too.” He stood, shoving his hands in his pockets, and paced. “Sorry I didn’t understand that you
know
, somehow, without ever having been there yourself. You feel what they feel—the dogs, Cody, even me. I know that’s not easy. I’m not sure anybody ever understood me before. Heck, I don’t understand myself most of the time.” He laughed, ill at ease, and she laughed with him, but it was awkward.

This whole confession was going off the rails somehow. He was just no good at this. Maybe it was too late to show how he felt. Too late to change.

He looked down at the dog, avoiding Lindsey’s eyes. He’d never spilled his heart like this before. Inside, the old Shane Lockhart was screaming at him,
Stop! Stop! You’re handing her the knife!

But he kept on going, forcing himself to meet her eyes.

“Your heart’s big enough to hold the whole world’s pain, but you shouldn’t have to hold it alone.”

“Stop.” She put one finger to his lips, just one, as if to shush him. “Don’t say another word.” She gave him a sad, sorrowful look, and he knew she was about to shatter his dreams.

But at least he’d tried. He’d never have to wonder if it could have been different between them.

“I have to ask you something,” she said.

He nodded, wondering what was coming. He could feel her holding back, mistrusting him. He hoped she was about to tell him why. Because once he knew what was wrong, he’d fix it, somehow. No matter what it was, he’d find a way.

“I heard Ed talking about a job he’d promised you.” She stepped away to pick up a wandering spaniel puppy. Stroking the puppy, she kept her eyes averted from him, but he suspected that if she looked up, he’d see tears forming. “I promised myself I’d never be with a man who lied to me, and you told me you didn’t really know Brockman. When I said I didn’t want to sell the land to him, you acted like you didn’t care one way or the other.” Her voice grew tight, as if the words were strangling her. “But you had a deal going. He’d offered you a job.”

Shane sincerely hoped, at that moment, that Ed Brockman was lying in a windowless cell. And he hoped Ozzie and his neighbors had worked him over before he got there.

“There was no job,” he said. “And no deal. He offered. I refused.”

She simply looked at him, her eyes examining every detail of his face as if she could read the truth in the set of his mouth, the sheen of his eyes.

He hoped she could. He was telling the truth, but how could he convince her?

She frowned, and he could see doubt in the shadows that haunted her eyes.

He knew where those shadows came from. She’d been betrayed by her husband—by the man who should have loved her and cherished her. How could he convince her he was different?

He couldn’t. That was the sad truth. Either she believed him, or she didn’t. And just then, at the moment that mattered most, it looked as if she didn’t.

A stirring from the corner made him remember where he was. He needed to get back to work. Gather up the puppies, find places for them. Feed them, water them. There’d be so much to do, and whether Lindsey could love him or not, he loved
her—
and he wouldn’t let her down. He’d work harder than ever at the ranch, creating a haven for the homeless.

Maybe, in time, she’d learn to love him. Maybe not. But there was one person he could depend on, and in all the excitement, he’d almost forgotten Cody was there.

There and crying. Shane passed Templeton to Lindsey and hurried to his son’s side.

“What’s the matter, Son?”

He cussed himself inwardly. It had all been too much for the boy. The danger, the excitement. The tragic condition of the kennels. The evil in Brockman’s eyes.

And now, hearing his father screw up his future. Cody had wanted Lindsey for a mother from the first time he’d met her. And it wasn’t just because she looked like Tara. It was because Cody understood who she was. One pure heart could sense another.

But Shane didn’t have any sense at all, and he’d blown it.

Shoving Shane aside with a furious flailing of limbs, Cody ran to Lindsey and grabbed her around the waist. The boy was wild-eyed and red in the face.

“He didn’t!” He shook Lindsey hard, and she set a comforting hand on the boy’s head. “He didn’t do the deal!”

“What do you mean?” Extricating herself from the boy’s grasp, Lindsey knelt. “What happened, Cody?”

The boy sniffed. “Mr. Brockman wanted Dad to tell you the grass was bad or the cattle were sick. That was the deal he wanted, but Dad wouldn’t do it. He just let Mr. Brockman
think
he would, so I could have a puppy.” Tears streamed down the boy’s face. “My dad would never do anything bad. Never! And I was there. I was
right there
!” Cody pointed toward the ceiling, indicating the spot upstairs where he’d played with the puppies while Shane and Brockman talked.

Shane hadn’t realized Cody was paying attention to anything but the dogs that night. But the kid had heard every word.

Mumbling a quick prayer of thanks, Shane looked over at Lindsey. Her brow had cleared, and her eyes glowed like a clear sky after a thunderstorm. She was smiling, and Shane wanted to go to her, to be comforted and loved as only Lindsey, with her soft heart, could.

But it was his son who ran into her embrace.

“You gotta understand,” Cody mumbled into Lindsey’s shoulder. “My dad is sooo polite. He couldn’t just say no. So he let Mr. Brockman
think
he’d said yes, and then he left. He’d never make a deal with Mr. Brockman, because Mr. Brockman isn’t like a worm at all. He’s like a slimy, squirmy, nasty, ugly
snake
!”

Lindsey held the boy close, her laughing eyes fixed on Shane’s. “And what’s your dad like, then?”

“My dad?” Cody bit his lower lip, looking so serious Shane almost smiled. But then he remembered how high the stakes were. Cody had saved his life a minute ago, and he was finishing the job now. “My dad’s not
like
anything. He
is
a cowboy, and that means he’s a straight shooter. A man of his word.”

The boy drew two imaginary six-shooters from an imaginary gun belt and mimed a one-sided shoot-out, mouthing a silent
bang, bang
as he squeezed the imaginary triggers.

Laughing, Lindsey squeezed the boy in an enormous hug.

“You know what?” She released him.

“What?” both Shane and Cody asked in unison.

“I think you’re right.”

Shane felt a new sun rising inside his heart, warming his soul with the healing light of love. From his memories of the dark closet to the gloomy basement, from the hidden corners of his mind to the longings buried in his heart, everything within him felt blessed by the glow of love returned.

Fixing her eyes on Shane’s face, Lindsey drew her own imaginary six-shooter and pantomimed a one-sided battle, aiming each silent shot straight at his heart.

She was joking. He knew that. Her tone, her smile, and the gleam in her eyes all told him this was a lighthearted lark to her, a little tease for Cody.

But each silent shot felt real to him. Her imaginary bullets cut through the hard shell that protected his heart and punctured the soft, gooey center.

Man, if anybody found out how mushy he was inside, he’d never be able to run a ranch. The chickens would dance with glee, and the cattle would laugh their fool heads off. Hell, even Templeton would run roughshod over him if he knew what a softhearted fool Shane had become.

But Lindsey? He could trust her. He was more than willing to hand over his scarred and damaged heart and hope for the best. He knew she wouldn’t use it against him. He only hoped she’d accept it.

Clearing his throat, he did his best to erase the ache those two sweet shots had left in his heart. “I’m not easy to understand, I know. But if you’ll just trust me, I promise I’ll never lie to you, honey.” His voice sounded hoarse, and he cleared his throat again. “I’ll never hurt you either, and I’ll always try to understand how you feel. I know I haven’t always done that.”

“You’ve done your best,” she said.

“Well, my best just got better. You’ve made me see a new side of the world, and you’ve given me a purpose. You could walk away from me, right now, and I could never repay you for that. But I hope you won’t. I hope you’ll hear me out.”

It was time. Everything inside him was screaming at him to do it, do it now.

And so he knelt.

The dirty concrete was littered with the corpses of insects and the leavings of small animals, but he’d kneel in anything for Lindsey. He’d kneel in the thick gumbo mud of a Wyoming spring. He’d roll in the cold, rushing waters of the Yellowstone River. He’d lie himself down in the middle of the prickliest patch of prickly pear cactus that had ever grown in the rocky outback of the Lazy Q and count himself lucky to have the opportunity. He’d kneel for Lindsey. He’d crawl for her. He’d die if he had to.

“Marry me, Lindsey.” He took off his hat and held it on his knee. “I love you over the fences and beyond the horizon. I love you into the sky and under the ground. I love you as much as I love this land we live on, as much as I love this life we lead. Whatever you do, wherever you go, I want to stand beside you and face every trial together.” The rasp had left his voice now, and the ache in his throat was gone. He felt strong and confident. He felt
right.
“I want to help you make Rescue Ranch a reality, and I want us to do it as husband and wife.”