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Authors: Stacey Coverstone

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BOOK: Takin' The Reins
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“No. If it’s important, they’ll call back. I don’t know who would be calling me anyway. No one I know has the house number. My friends call me on my cell.”

They walked to Cole’s truck in silence. He opened the passenger door and held it as she climbed in, which earned him a couple of points. While buckling up, she glanced around the cab. It was neat and more organized than she’d expected for a construction guy. Another large notebook was on the floor, and a jacket and some CD cases lay in the middle of the bench seat. A take-out coffee cup sat in the cup holder, and several packs of gum and some change cluttered another cup holder. Good looking and relatively neat; he was a man after her own heart.

As they passed by the Circle B, Jordan saw Tag sleeping on the front veranda. The horses grazed in the field. All was quiet on the home front, but neither Brannigan nor his truck was to be seen. It was probably a good thing he wasn’t outside. For some reason, she’d feel funny if he saw her with Cole.

At their first stop in town, Ace Hardware, Jordan purchased a water filter and collected paint samples for the walls. Cole pointed out the few businesses on the same street and then they took a driving tour, meandering around Tularosa. He passed by the schools, the new library, and drove her through the historic forty-nine blocks.

“These forty-nine blocks made up the original town site,” he explained. “The district is recorded in the National Register of Historic Places.” He seemed proud of his town and eager to share it with her.

“What does the name Tularosa mean?” she asked.

“In Spanish it translates to rose-colored reeds. Reeds grew along the banks of the Rio Tularosa when the original settlers used the river as a water source. Now it’s barely a stream most of the year.”

When he drove to the edge of town, he stopped the truck and pointed at the large blue mountain looming in the distance. “That’s Sierra Blanca. It’s a sacred mountain to the Mescalero Apache tribe.”

Jordan gasped, remembering the lawyer mentioning the name of the mountain. “I was told that’s where Addison Stillwell’s psychic Indian woman lives.”

“That’s what people say. The tribe owns and operates a resort hotel and ski slopes up there. It’s a popular vacation destination, especially for Texans. Do you ski?”

She shook her head. “I grew up in Denver, but it wouldn’t bother me if I never saw snow again.”

He chuckled. “Then you’ll love it down here in the desert. We rarely get snow, and when we do, it melts quickly.” He put the truck in gear again.

“Cole, do you know where my aunt is buried?”

“Yes, I do. She’s in the Fairview Cemetery in town. I’ll take you there if you’d like.”

“Thanks. I’d like to pay my respects. It’s the least I can do for what she’s done for me.”

 

~ * ~

 

It was easy to spot the fresh grave.

“It’s a beautiful spot.” Jordan was pleased to see the stand of trees that edged the property and cast refreshing shade over Lydia’s headstone. They stood at the foot of it. A wreath of mixed summer flowers was propped against the marble headstone. Jordan read aloud the epitaph inscribed on the monument.

“She never met a horse she didn’t like. Lydia R. Albright, born May 1, nineteen twenty-five, died May 5, two thousand nine. That seems appropriate, given what I know about her.”

“Nineteen twenty-five. She’d just turned eighty-four.” Cole repeated what Jordan had already learned about the woman. “She was a spry thing until the very end.”

The two of them offered up a moment of silence as Jordan again pondered why Lydia had left the Lucky Seven to her. “Who do you suppose placed this wreath here?” she wondered, sliding her finger over the slick rock stone. “Did she have friends?”

“Maybe it was some ladies from the church,” Cole offered.

“It was kind…whoever it was. I think I’ll make sure she always has fresh flowers on her grave. It’s the least I can do for the woman who has given me a new start.”

Cole nodded in approval. He didn’t seem curious about her comment about a new start.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Cole. I’m ready to go now.”

As they left the cemetery, he patted his stomach. “I’m getting hungry. How about going to the café for some lunch? There aren’t too many spots here in town. Or we could drive to Alamogordo if you prefer.” He seemed anxious to please her.

“The café’s fine,” she said. Her stomach quietly growled. The dry cereal earlier that morning hadn’t gone far.

The café was packed when they arrived, but Cole spied one empty booth. He placed his hand at the small of Jordan’s back and guided her toward it as he greeted people along the way. They sat across from each other and opened their menus.

“Popular place,” she noted. The same waitress, Nicki, approached and placed two glasses of water in front of them.

Batting thick eyelashes at Cole, she said, “Hi, you two. I see you’ve become friends.”

Jordan noticed the thinly tweezed eyebrow arch as Nicki slid an inquiring glance between them. She ignored the comment. “It’s crowded today.”

“Sure is. Lonnie needs to hire more help. I’m getting run ragged. How was your first day in Tulie?” she asked.

“Fine, thanks.” Jordan wasn’t about to tell a stranger what had really taken place in the past twenty-four hours. Besides, Nicki didn’t seem all that interested anyway. Her gaze was fastened to Cole. But who would blame her? He was a pleasure to look at.

“Know what you want yet?”

“Could you give us a few minutes, Nicki?” Cole perused the menu, not paying much attention.

“Sure, honey. Be back in a jiffy.”

Jordan nudged his foot under the table and smiled. “That woman likes you.”

“She likes anyone in pants,” he replied casually as he studied the menu options.

“That’s a mean thing to say.”

Cole looked up. His blue eyes were wide. “I didn’t mean to be rude. That’s just the way it is. Everyone knows that about her. She’s not discriminating when it comes to dating.” He went back to skimming the menu.

Cole didn’t sound mean-spirited so Jordan let it go. “You’re not having the usual today?” She remembered him ordering the usual yesterday, whatever that was.

“I’m feeling dangerous. Think I’ll go for my second usual today.” He wiggled his forehead and flashed his toothy grin. Jordan had just closed the menu and unrolled her napkin of silverware when a person scooted in beside her and drawled,

“Afternoon.”

She jumped. Wyatt Brannigan’s shoulder pressed against hers as he snuggled in close.

“Gosh, you scared me.” Her hand splayed over her heart, and she teasingly smacked his arm.

“Sorry about that. I’ve never seen this place so full. Hope you two don’t mind me sitting with you. There’s not another seat to be had.” He grinned at Jordan. As an afterthought, he said,

“Howdy, Cole.”

“Hi, Wyatt. Looks like you’ve already made yourself at home.”

“Looks that way.” He opened the menu and closed it just as quickly. “I already know what I want. I come here a lot.” His green eyes raked over Jordan in that same intense way that caused her to squirm beneath her clothes. “You look like a ray of sunshine, Jordan.”

“Thank you, Brannigan.”

“What have the two of you been up to this morning?” he asked.

There was no hiding the truth. Anyway, she found herself interested in his reaction. “Cole has been giving me a tour of the town. It’s so different from where I come from. It’s a quirky and charming place. I think it’s going to grow on me.”

“So, you’re really going to stay and revive the Lucky Seven?” he wanted to know.

“Yeah, with a little help from my new friends.”

He slapped his hand on the table. “Hot dog! Tag will be so happy when I tell him the news. He really likes you.” He winked, and Jordan burst out laughing. Cole interjected, obviously wanting to switch the subject.

“What are you doing in town today, Wyatt?”

“Oh, you know. The usual. Just hanging around.”

Jordan’s head tilted. He made it sound like he was unemployed. She thought he was a rancher. What kind she didn’t know. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen any cattle on his spread. As she thought that over, she realized Wyatt’s attention was only directed at her—as if Cole weren’t sitting there.

“Say, Jordan. I called the house this morning, but you didn’t answer. I thought I’d run over and check to see how you were doing after all the ruckus last night.”

“That was you? Cole and I were just leaving the house when I heard the phone ring. I’m sorry I missed you.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled. “I’m here now. I much prefer seeing you in person anyway.”

Cole cleared his throat loudly. With a half-teasing grin of his own, he said, “Don’t you ever work, Wyatt?”

Brannigan shifted his body and stared. “What do you mean, buddy?”

“I always see you hanging around town and every time I come to the café, you seem to be here chatting with folks. How do you manage to pay your bills when it seems you spend more time socializing than you do working?”

Wyatt leaned back against the booth. “You don’t have to worry about me, champ. My ranch is paid off, as is my truck, and I don’t have any credit card debt. Can you say the same?”

Cole’s face deepened. “No.”

“Then if I were you, I wouldn’t worry about how much socializing I do.”

He smiled, but behind the smile, Jordan sensed a proud man who would be pushed only so far. Her gaze swept between the two men. The testosterone hovered thick in the air. Thank goodness, Nicki approached the table again and interrupted the banter.

“Have you guys made up your minds?” Her gaze swung to Wyatt. “Oh, hi, honey. I didn’t see you sneak in.” She twirled a piece of hair into a curl, like Jordan had seen her do before.

After placing their orders, Nicki squeezed Wyatt’s shoulder and winked before leaving. The gesture was intimate. For some odd reason, Jordan was irritated by it. Maybe it was because of what Cole had said about her; intimating she was easy. Jordan normally wasn’t one to pay credence to gossip, but it got her to wondering about the kind of relationship Brannigan had with the waitress. She affixed him with a questioning stare.

“What?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders. She shook her head and took a drink of water.

Cole snickered.

“It’s not cool to flirt with one woman when you’re sitting with another, my friend.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” Wyatt defended. “Nicki’s always touching people. You know how she is. She’s a touchy-feely kind of person.”

Cole laughed.

“Did you visit Lydia’s grave while you were out and about this morning?” Wyatt asked Jordan, obviously trying to change the topic.

She shot him a surprised look. “Are you a mind reader or a stalker?”

“Neither. Not last time I checked, anyway.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, we did go to the cemetery. The marble stone is very nice. Did she choose that ahead of time?”

“I’m not sure.” His answer seemed vague.

“Someone recently left a pretty flower wreath, too. Cole thinks it was the church ladies.”

“How nice of them.” Wyatt glanced around. “Nicki didn’t bring me a glass of water. I’m a might thirsty.” His vagueness caused Jordan suspicion.

“It was you,” she said, eyeballing him. “You left the wreath, didn’t you? And you probably purchased the headstone as well. I’m right, aren’t I?”

He smiled again, and she placed her hand over his.

“That was very kind. I suppose you were her closest friend.” He cast an ornery glance at Cole and then back to Jordan. His tone was soft with her.

“Despite what rumors you might hear about me, I do have a heart.” He touched his fingers to his shirt where his heart beat. “Lydia was my neighbor for many years. She was worthy of a beautiful stone, and she deserves flowers on her grave.”

Jordan felt her eyes mist. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Tell me, do you know if anyone was with her when she died?”

He nodded. “I was.”

“What happened? How did it happen?”

“I found her on the ground outside the barn with a bridle in her hand. I called 911, but she couldn’t hold on. The paramedics said it was a heart attack. I’d known she hadn’t felt good for some time. She’d been complaining of indigestion and heartburn. I was worried, but she was as stubborn as a mule and wouldn’t go to the doctor. One day she told me she’d be ready when her time came. She said she’d made things right and wasn’t afraid of going home.”

Jordan considered that a moment. What had Lydia meant that she’d made things right? The lawyer had told her Lydia had made her will a few weeks before she passed. Was ensuring Jordan received the ranch what Lydia had meant by the words she’d spoken to Wyatt?

“Was she able to speak at the end?”Jordan asked him. “Did she say anything to you?”

“No, but I believe she was at peace. I held her hand, and she opened her eyes once and looked off into the sun. She smiled right before she passed.”

The table fell silent. After another moment, Jordan said, “I’m glad she wasn’t alone at the end. I’m glad you were with her.” She suddenly felt melancholy. Perhaps all the changes were making her feel nostalgic and sad. She was sorry for never having met Lydia, and sad that, for some reason, Lydia had been kicked out of the family and forced to live life on her own. Jordan had worries about her own future as well. Could she learn how to run a ranch alone? Did she have what it would take? Would there be more trouble with Addison Stillwell? Could she forget her past and the pain Drew had caused? Would she ever be able to open her heart up again?

“Here we go.” Nicki swooped in and set three hot plates in front of them. “Club sandwich, hot turkey and gravy, and cheeseburger and fries. Is there anything else I can get you three?”

“Looks good. I believe we’re set,” Wyatt said, apparently forgetting how thirsty he’d been moments earlier. Nicki blew kisses to both men before dashing off to another table. Jordan rolled her eyes.

Conversation lagged as they ate. The café’s noise level continued to rise, making it difficult to talk. When they were finished and the checks were brought at the end of the meal, the men became like two bulls, with Jordan feeling like the heifer. Wyatt scooped both checks up into his big palm.

BOOK: Takin' The Reins
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